Chapter 38 The Man Who Disappeared
1313 Words
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Jin Woo stood beside the open box, one hand still near the knife hidden at his side. His eyes stayed on the man in front of him.
Han Seojun looked older than before.
Not by much, but enough for life to show on his face.
There was tiredness in his eyes. A quiet caution in the way he stood. He looked like a man who had spent too many years looking over his shoulder.
Still, Jin Woo recognized him immediately.
Some people did not change, even after disappearing.
Seojun closed the door behind him.
The room became quiet again.
Dust floated in the thin light between them.
Finally, Jin Woo spoke.
“So you are alive.”
Seojun gave a small smile, but there was no warmth in it.
“Clearly.”
“You disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“Without a word.”
Seojun looked at the wooden floor for a moment.
“Because words would have gotten me killed.”
Jin Woo said nothing.
He waited.
Seojun had always been like this. He only spoke when he decided the truth was worth the risk.
Today, it seemed he had decided.
He stepped closer and looked at the open box.
“You found it faster than I expected.”
Jin Woo’s voice was calm.
“I had help.”
Seojun nodded once.
“Minister Choi.”
It was not a question.
Jin Woo did not answer, but that was answer enough.
Seojun let out a quiet breath.
“Then he finally chose a side.”
Jin Woo’s eyes sharpened.
“There were always sides.”
“Yes,” Seojun said. “But most people spend their lives pretending there are not.”
Silence followed.
Jin Woo took the folded letter from the box and held it up slightly.
“This is connected to her.”
It was not a question either.
Seojun looked at the paper.
His expression changed.
Only for a moment.
But it was enough.
“Yes,” he said quietly.
The word was simple.
But it made the room feel colder.
Jin Woo’s hand tightened around the letter.
“Tell me.”
Seojun looked at him for a long moment.
Then he asked, “Do you really want the full truth?”
Jin Woo’s answer came without hesitation.
“Yes.”
Seojun nodded slowly.
“Then listen carefully. Because once you hear it, there is no turning back.”
Jin Woo almost laughed at that.
Turning back had stopped being possible the day Ara died.
Seojun walked to the window and stood there, looking outside.
His voice was low when he began.
“The princess noticed you much earlier than you think. Long before the marriage proposal. Long before the court whispers.”
Jin Woo stayed silent.
“She watched your rise carefully. At first, it was simple interest. You were different from the others. You could not be bought. You did not flatter. You made people uncomfortable.”
A faint pause.
“She liked that.”
Jin Woo’s expression did not change.
“But liking became obsession. And obsession became something worse.”
Seojun turned back.
“When you chose Ara publicly, it was not just rejection. It was humiliation.”
The words were sharp because they were true.
In the palace, pride was often more dangerous than anger.
Seojun continued.
“She could not accept it. Not because she loved you, but because she could not bear losing.”
Jin Woo’s jaw tightened slightly.
“I know that.”
“No,” Seojun said quietly. “You know part of it.”
That made Jin Woo still.
Seojun stepped closer.
“Ara was never just your wife to her. Ara became proof that she had failed. As long as Ara lived, the princess believed she was losing.”
The silence after those words felt endless.
Jin Woo looked down for a moment.
He remembered Ara smiling in the kitchen.
Braiding their daughter’s hair.
Waiting by the door when he returned home.
Simple things.
Small things.
Things that should have been protected.
His voice was colder when he spoke again.
“Did she order it herself?”
Seojun did not answer immediately.
That hesitation was worse than words.
Finally, he said, “Not directly.”
Jin Woo looked up.
“What does that mean?”
“It means people like her do not need to stain their own hands. A suggestion becomes an order. A complaint becomes permission. A silence becomes approval.”
His voice was bitter now.
“I saw enough to understand what was happening. I tried to stop it.”
Jin Woo’s eyes narrowed.
“And failed.”
“Yes.”
There was no defense in Seojun’s voice.
Only truth.
“I was too late. By the time I understood how far it had gone, the people involved were already moving. If I spoke openly, I would disappear.”
“You disappeared anyway.”
A small, tired smile touched Seojun’s face.
“Yes. Because I was seen asking questions.”
He looked around the old storage room.
“This place became my safety. Forgotten things are useful when you need to survive.”
Jin Woo stepped closer.
“And now?”
Seojun met his gaze.
“Now you are back. And the people who buried the truth are nervous.”
Jin Woo’s voice was steady.
“They should be.”
For the first time, Seojun gave a real smile.
Small, but real.
“That sounds more like the man I remember.”
Jin Woo looked at the box again.
“There is more here.”
“Yes.”
“Enough to destroy them?”
Seojun’s smile faded.
“Enough to start. Not enough to finish.”
Jin Woo nodded once.
That was expected.
People like the princess did not fall from one piece of evidence.
They fell slowly.
Painfully.
The way Ara had been taken from him.
Seojun’s voice softened.
“There is one more thing you need to know.”
Jin Woo looked at him.
Seojun hesitated.
Rare for him.
That alone made the words heavier.
“The day Ara died… she was trying to meet someone.”
Jin Woo felt something inside him go still.
“Who?”
Seojun’s answer came quietly.
“You.”
Jin Woo frowned.
“That makes no sense. I was already away.”
“I know. But she received a message. Someone told her you needed to see her urgently.”
The room seemed to lose air.
Jin Woo stared at him.
No sound came at first.
Then finally—
“She was lured there.”
Seojun nodded.
“Yes.”
Jin Woo closed his eyes.
Just for a second.
Not weakness.
Control.
Because anger, if allowed too early, ruined everything.
When he opened them again, they were colder than before.
“Who sent the message?”
Seojun shook his head.
“I never found that part. But I know this—Ara did not die by chance. She died because she trusted that message.”
Jin Woo stood in silence.
The truth was sharper than he expected.
She had gone because she thought he needed her.
Even at the end…
she had chosen him.
His chest felt heavy, but his face remained calm.
That was the cruelest part of grief.
Sometimes it screamed.
Sometimes it simply sat quietly inside you.
Jin Woo folded the letter and placed it inside his robe.
Then he looked at Han Seojun.
“Help me finish this.”
Seojun held his gaze.
For a moment, neither man spoke.
Then Seojun nodded.
“Yes.”
Outside, the wind moved through the trees.
The world remained quiet.
But inside that old forgotten building, something had changed.
Jin Woo was no longer chasing shadows.
Now he had truth.
And truth could be far more dangerous than revenge.
- Writer
