Chapter 4
1630 Words
After dinner with Hae-In, Kang Ji-Hwan did not go home.
His steps carried him to a roadside pojangmacha—a small street stall covered with canvas, dimly lit by weak hanging bulbs that swayed in the night wind. He sat alone, staring at the bottle in front of him, drinking glass after glass in silence.
After several rounds, his face flushed red. His breathing grew heavy, his thoughts blurred. He loosened his tie, unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt, and slumped lazily against the cold plastic chair.
“Where did you disappear to, Yoon Ara…” he whispered, his voice drowned by the noise of the night.
“Why did you run from me… you should have died by my hands.”
He drank again, his eyes dark with a fire of anger that never faded.
“Don’t let me find you… ssibal.”
Not long after, a large-built man walked into the stall. His steps were heavy, his breathing slightly labored.
“Hey… why did you start drinking without me?”
That voice belonged to Choi Sung-Hoon—Ji-Hwan’s only true friend, the one person who had always stood by his side.
Ji-Hwan lifted his head. A lazy smile curved his lips.
“Why are you so late, fatty?”
“Aissh… you know what time it is now?” Sung-Hoon replied as he pulled a chair and sat across from him.
“Why did you suddenly ask me to drink?”
Half drunk, Ji-Hwan smirked and rubbed his face.
“I had dinner with an old classmate.”
He laughed softly—bitter.
“Yeah, Sung-Hoon… I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do to find Yoon Ara. Every private investigator I hired failed. Not a single one of them found her. I’ve already spent a fortune.”
“Maybe you should just forget her, Ji-Hwan,” Sung-Hoon said casually.
Ji-Hwan’s expression changed instantly. His eyes sharpened, his voice rose.
“Ya! Ssibal! As long as I haven’t found her, my life will never be at peace. Don’t you dare tell me to forget her.”
Sung-Hoon only shook his head quietly. He poured another drink into Ji-Hwan’s glass without saying a word.
He respected Ji-Hwan not because of his family name or wealth, but because Ji-Hwan had been the only person who stood beside him since university—when everyone else looked down on him.
Even the managerial position he held at Kang Horizon Group today existed because of Ji-Hwan’s help—back when he struggled to find a job, crushed by rejection and ridicule simply because of his body.
Under the dim stall lights, the two friends sat facing each other—
one trapped in obsession and vengeance,
the other staying beside him, even knowing that this wound would not heal in a single night.
“What if you just work at your father’s company?” Sung-Hoon suggested.
Ji-Hwan flinched.
“Mwo-ra-go?”
Sung-Hoon sighed softly. “I said, work for your father.”
“Are you insane?” Ji-Hwan laughed coldly, his voice full of arrogance.
“You want me to bow to people beneath me? Ya! This is Kang Ji-Hwan. Kang Ji-Hwan.”
“I know, I know,” Sung-Hoon replied calmly.
“That’s why I said—ask for a high position. Not starting from the bottom.”
“That old man will never give it to me.”
“Ji-Hwan,” Sung-Hoon continued quietly, his gaze fixed on him,
“your father’s company has an internal investigation department. They’re experts. Even employees who embezzle company funds get caught in no time. If you want to find a missing person, they’re far more capable than the private investigators you hired.”
Ji-Hwan’s half-lidded eyes stared at Sung-Hoon.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Aissh… Every time I try to tell you, you get angry. Always the same line—about not bowing to anyone.”
Ji-Hwan scratched his head.
“I don’t want to start from the bottom, ssibal.”
“I’m not telling you to start from the bottom,” Sung-Hoon replied.
“I’m telling you to meet your father first. Ask properly. You won’t know until you try.”
The night grew deeper.
Ji-Hwan could no longer lift his head. His body collapsed onto the table, unconscious in drunken sleep.
Sung-Hoon stared at him for a long moment.
Without a word, he stood, pulled Ji-Hwan’s arm over his shoulder, and lifted his friend’s body with effort.
____________
Meanwhile…
Inside a small room in the cleaning company’s dormitory, Han Soo-Min was still awake.
She sat on a thin mattress, leaning against the cold wall. Her face was tired, but her eyes remained open. Nearly four hours had passed since she spoke with her mother—telling endless stories about life in Seorin, about the big city filled with lights, about days that were supposedly going well.
In six months of work, she had not returned to her village even once.
No days off.
No rest.
Every day followed the same routine.
Weekends were the most precious days—because overtime meant extra pay.
Every won she earned went to her mother and younger sister in the village.
But Soo-Min never told the truth.
Her mother didn’t know her daughter worked as a cleaner.
Didn’t know about slippery floors and trash bins.
Didn’t know about the smell of chemicals.
Didn’t know about hands roughened by detergent.
Didn’t know about the exhaustion she carried every day.
Soo-Min chose to lie.
She said she worked in a company—as a clerk.
Lived in a comfortable place.
Shared a rental with other staff.
Wore nice clothes.
Lived a calm, stable life.
Not for herself.
But because she didn’t want her mother to worry.
Didn’t want her mother to cry in silence.
Didn’t want her mother to blame herself for letting her daughter go to a cold, unfamiliar city.
In the quiet room, Soo-Min hugged her knees.
Not from fear.
Not from weakness.
But from longing—
and love too deep to be expressed with words.
__________
Two days passed.
Kang Dae-Sung walked out of the meeting room with a tense expression, followed closely by Kang Ji-Tae, Kang Seo-Yeon, Kang Ji-Seok, and several senior executives. His steps were fast, heavy with pressure. It was clear the meeting had not gone well.
“Father, regarding the ship project—there was a delay due to supply shortages. I didn’t intentionally withhold the report,” Ji-Tae explained, trying to defend himself.
“Why are you only saying this now?” Kang Dae-Sung asked coldly, without slowing down.
“The report only came in yesterday, Father.”
Kang Dae-Sung stopped. He turned and stared sharply at his eldest son.
“Yesterday, this morning, or just now—it doesn’t matter. Matters like this should be reported immediately. You know how much we lose every single day a delay happens, even if it’s just one day.”
Ji-Tae lowered his head slightly.
“Yes, Father. I’ve already instructed staff to look for alternative suppliers.”
“From where?” Kang Dae-Sung asked.
Ji-Tae fell silent.
“China? Japan? Answer.”
But Ji-Tae couldn’t speak. This was the first time such a situation had occurred under his management.
Kang Dae-Sung turned to his secretary.
“Give him Zhang Junhao’s number,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
He looked back at Ji-Tae.
“Contact him. Negotiate properly. Make sure the price does not exceed what we paid the previous supplier.”
“Yes, Father. I’ll contact him immediately.”
“Chairman,” the secretary spoke up.
“What is it?”
“Mr. Kang Ji-Hwan contacted me. He said he’s coming to see you. And he said…”
“What did he say?”
“He said… ‘Tell the old man not to go anywhere. Just sit in his office.’”
“Disrespectful brat,” Kang Dae-Sung muttered.
“He’s really bold, Father,” Seo-Yeon added.
“Silence,” Kang Dae-Sung snapped.
Seo-Yeon immediately lowered her head.
“What time is he coming?”
“Ten a.m., sir.”
Kang Dae-Sung nodded slowly and stepped into the elevator with the others.
___________
At 9:45 a.m., a taxi stopped in front of the Kang Horizon Group building lobby.
Kang Ji-Hwan stepped out wearing only a t-shirt and jeans—simple, casual, completely out of place in the elite corporate atmosphere.
He walked calmly toward the security barrier.
“Stop.”
A security officer raised his hand, blocking him.
Ji-Hwan stopped instantly.
“What is it?” he asked coldly.
“Where are you going, sir?”
“To see my father.”
“Who is your father?”
“The owner of this building.”
The guard turned to look at his colleague, clearly confused.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Are you serious?” Ji-Hwan scoffed. “Why would I need an appointment?”
“You can’t enter freely. This building has rules,” the guard explained, trying to stay professional.
“Are you deaf?” Ji-Hwan’s voice rose.
“I already told you this building belongs to my father. Do I still need an appointment?”
People nearby began to notice.
A senior security officer quickly stepped forward.
“Sir, please calm down. Don’t cause a disturbance. Let’s go to the counter and check if you have an appointment.”
Ji-Hwan let out a humorless laugh.
“Aissh… ssibal.”
He stared at them with burning eyes.
“Fine,” he said quietly, full of threat.
“Let’s check who I really am. And when you all find out who I am…”
his voice dropped, sharp and cold,
“I’ll personally make sure every single one of you gets fired.”
- Writer
