Chapter 3
“Let’s not drag this out, Master Oh. Neither the Chairman nor I want to rummage through every detail. This villa—it holds precious memories with your wife, doesn’t it? You should keep it.”
“You… don’t tell me…”
“The debt you secured with this villa is exactly one billion won. I’ll pay you exactly that for the painting.”
Kang Ryun stood up, watching Oh Yeontaek, who was at a loss for words.
“As soon as you hand over the painting, your debt with Hwanggeum Capital will vanish. The process will be swift, so you needn’t worry.”
“Wait, wait! President Cha, please—just a moment!”
Yeontaek reached out to grab Kang Ryun’s arm as he headed for the door.
In an instant, Yoon stepped between them, blocking Yeontaek firmly.
“Please calm down, Master Oh.”
“President Cha, please—!”
While Yoon held Yeontaek back, Kang Ryun stepped out of the study. Through the closing door, he saw Yeontaek struggling with his secretary. The hand stretched toward him looked almost pathetically desperate.
The study, now empty of Kang Ryun, filled with only a cold silence. Yeontaek sank back into the sofa, limp. The red glow of sunset poured in through the window.
Whooosh—.
The wind rustling through the forest outside sounded bleak. Yeontaek squeezed his eyes shut. He could hear the echoes of everything shattering in his mind.
‘Oh Yeontaek, come out!!’
He had gone to every financial institution that would see him, but with no job, no one would lend to him. The only place that lent a jobless man like Yeontaek a billion won was an illegal loan shark. It had been a desperate choice, but by far the worst choice he had ever made.
That day was the day the loan sharks came calling. Hwanggeum Capital—Jang Kangseong’s voice had boomed through the lower floor. Hiding under his bed, Yeontaek had covered his ears with both hands, his whole body shaking.
Creaaak—.
The rusty hinges of his bedroom door groaned open. The unlit room turned bright with the light from the hallway spilling in. The dust under the bed was clear as day.
“You bastard. Where’d that rat scurry off to this time?”
The old bed creaked and sank under the weight. Right in front of Yeontaek’s eyes were the gleaming heels of polished black men’s shoes. The man tapped the floor with the tip of his shoe, keeping time like a drumbeat.
Above him, curses rained down. Yeontaek pressed both hands over his mouth, choking down a scream. His whole body shook violently. The bruises on his abdomen, still dark from the last beating, throbbed with pain.
Maybe it was the fear, but suddenly the curses stopped, cut off like someone had pressed mute.
Instinct screamed that something was wrong. His trembling body went cold, frozen stiff. He could barely breathe when—suddenly—a face appeared upside down, staring at him.
“Found you.”
“Aaaagh!!”
Jang Kangseong’s yellowed teeth flashed in a wicked grin as he stared straight at Yeontaek. His hand seized Yeontaek’s hair without hesitation and yanked him out from under the bed.
“Aagh! Please! Please, someone help!!”
“Shut up, you bastard. Who do you think’ll come save you this deep in the mountains?”
Kangseong dragged him by the hair, half hauling, half dragging him down the stairs. Yeontaek’s body banged and bounced off each step, but Kangseong didn’t slow down.
Downstairs, ten large men stood in mismatched Hawaiian shirts under black jackets. Each held a weapon—baseball bats, knives, steel pipes—like wolves waiting for a signal.
“Hey boys, here’s tonight’s meat.”
Kangseong tossed Yeontaek in front of them, snickering. Yeontaek trembled under the cold, murderous stares aimed down at him. His pants were soaked. A foul stench spread out from him, and Kangseong waved his hand dismissively, covering his nose.
Just one wave.
That was all it took.
At that small signal, the men pounced, weapons raining down.
“Ugh—!”
The floor was slick with blood and sweat. At some point, his vision turned red. In that fading light, Yeontaek had felt the raw terror of death—a fear so total, he never wanted to feel it again.
Jang Kangseong squatted down in front of Yeontaek’s swollen, unrecognizable face, clicking his tongue as he slapped Yeontaek’s cheeks twice.
“Hey, Oh Yeontaek. I’m giving you exactly one month. If you don’t have the money by then? You and your precious daughter—say goodbye to your organs.”
“Heugh—!”
Back in the present, sweat poured from Yeontaek’s forehead like rain. His shirt clung to his skin, soaked through. Half-dazed, he stared at the calendar on the table. November 28th. A red circle marked the date, with “Aunt visits” scribbled beside it.
A small heart was drawn next to the words. Seoyeon had drawn it with a bright smile, excited to see her aunt after so long.
Yeontaek raised a trembling hand to wipe his face. His palm came away wet.
‘You’d better repay that debt this month. You don’t have time to waste, do you?’
Kang Ryun’s words had been true. There was no time left to waste. By next week, Jang Kangseong would come to carve out his organs himself.
November 28th
That was the day he’d planned to flee abroad to escape Kangseong.
Seoul was far from the villa.
“The success rate for LJ Bio’s stem cell cancer treatment project is barely 53%. Aside from that, there’s no other project worth investing in, so this merger might be too hasty. Instead, if we focus on Hwabaek’s house construction side—”
And this nonsense was what he had to listen to.
In the back seat, Kang Ryun was holding a video conference on his tablet. He stared blankly at Cha Jin Taek, who was repeating points they’d already decided on, spitting so much that the mic picked up every splash.
Pointless.
“President Cha, do we really have to go through with this merger? Why not Samjin Bio instead? We’ve worked with them for years—it’d be easier to build on that trust—”
“Director Cha.”
“Yes, President Cha.”
“You do know what this meeting is for, don’t you?”
“Of course I do, what do you take me for?”
“That’s funny. You’re acting like you don’t.”
The other participants’ expressions on screen twisted awkwardly at once. Cha Jin Taek’s face flushed bright red.
Kang Ryun watched the pathetic scene with bored eyes.
“We’re buying LJ Bio because that 53% success rate is good enough.”
“…”
“And we’re not buying the company for its stock price—we’re buying it for their patents. Next time, Director Cha, come to the meeting knowing at least that much.”
A tense silence swept through the call. Cha Jin Taek fell silent. Kang Ryun pressed his temple with his fingers, exhaling a sigh of exhaustion.
A subordinate who needed everything spoon-fed, from start to finish.
“That 53% is plenty.”
“…”
“And again, it’s the patents we want, not the company itself. This meeting is over—no point wasting more time.”
“Yes, President.”
With the team’s subdued replies, Kang Ryun ended the call without hesitation and tossed the tablet aside on the seat.
“Ha…”
He closed his dry eyes for a moment. The darkening twilight cast shadows on his sharp features.
The woman with those clear, sparkling eyes—Seoyeon—truly didn’t know anything. Oh Yeontaek, Lee Yooran, Cha Junseong, and even his own mother, Yoo Chaei—how deeply the four of them were tangled together. She had no idea. If she did, she’d never look at him the way she did.
It was a blurry memory from a distant childhood. He still remembered Lee Yooran handing him a green grape candy. She’d smiled brightly, saying her daughter was about his age. She’d looked like sunlight itself.
Even at that age, he’d known instinctively—this was the woman his father had been searching for.
He hadn’t even thought to unwrap the candy. He’d thrown it as hard as he could onto the asphalt right in front of her. He could still see her expression, a flash of sadness as she looked down at the shattered candy.
‘Then, have a nice time here before you go.’
Damn it.
Disgustingly enough, Oh Seoyeon’s entire being was screaming that she was Lee Yooran’s blood.
