Chapter 16: The Hound’s Curiosity

It was silence once again. Hyeonseo stole a glance at the profile of Jeonghyeok, who was leaning his head back against the seat with his eyes closed. She couldn’t tell if he was in pain or simply angry. The heavy atmosphere, so unlike his usual self, made her pulse quicken with anxiety.

“Say what’s on your mind. Stop glancing.”

It was as if he had eyes on the side of his head; his voice drifted toward her languidly the moment he sensed her gaze.

“Are you… angry, by any chance?”

She finally spoke, hesitating. In truth, it was partly because she felt guilty. While she didn’t think a small flare-up would topple such a massive project, she felt embarrassed for losing her cool after boasting about her ability to separate public and private matters and claiming she had long since buried any personal feelings regarding Jo Inho.

“Because I was rude to Assemblyman Ahn earlier…”

His eyelids slid open, and he turned his head to meet her eyes. The sheer pressure of his gaze made her voice trail off.

“Compared to how you treat me, I wouldn’t exactly call that rude.”

His eyes were pitch black and deep as he looked at her.

“Then why…?”

“I’m not angry. Just a bit tired.”

Now that he mentioned it, his face did look remarkably pale. His lean cheeks seemed even more hollow today.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

She wondered if he had been drinking while sick. To set the mood, he must have downed at least seven or eight glasses. It was a fairly high-proof rice wine. He didn’t seem like the type to get drunk off that much, but anything would be a strain if his body was already failing him. Her worried eyes scanned his face.

“Is it a habit?”

“…Pardon?”

“Staring at people like that.”

The lazy flow of his voice sounded like a low-pitched song. Whether it was her imagination or not, his gaze seemed fixed on her lips, making her cheeks flare with heat.

“When did I ever… stare…”

“Koreans seem to hate making eye contact with me. But you, Ms. Cha Hyeonseo, pretend otherwise while taking in every single detail.”

Again, he sounded half-mocking, half-probing. As if he isn’t the one who looks at people like he’s peeling them layer by layer, she thought.

“It’s not like looking will make you wear away,” she snapped back.

He let out a short laugh.

“Why are you laughing?”

She grew indignant again, feeling slighted for having felt even a shred of concern for him. Why was it that her emotional control always went haywire in front of this man?

“You must have had a hard time.”

She couldn’t tell if it was cynicism or sympathy.

“Seeing you today, it suddenly struck me as pitiful. How hard you must have worked to endure while wearing a mask that doesn’t even fit.”

His eyes, their sincerity unreadable, flashed in the darkness. A sudden fear gripped her—the fear that she might be lured in by that gaze again.

“Not really,” she said, putting deliberate strength into her voice.

“I haven’t worked nearly as hard or suffered as much as you think, Director. If you want a certain price, you have to be able to handle this much effort regardless of what you’re doing. ‘There is no such thing as a losing trade in this world.’ You like that saying too, don’t you?”

“Wow.”

At the way one corner of his mouth curled up, she realized her mistake instantly.

“When did you find the time to go back and read all my interviews?”

There is no such thing as a losing trade. Even a deal that seems like a loss or a gain in the moment is, in the end, just an exchange that happened at its exact value. Therefore, making a profit through a trade is merely a type of scam—a person who accurately perceives the value of goods and services playing a game against an obtuse person who fails to perceive it.

She had unintentionally blurted out words he had said in an interview with an economic magazine. Embarrassment heated her cheeks.

“Our Team Leader Cha is more interested in me than I thought.”

“This much is basic for a subordinate. You don’t exactly lack knowledge about me either, Director.”

She acted as composed as possible to hide her fluster, but she was actually incredibly tense under his sly gaze. Her fingers, resting on her handbag, curled tightly. Cold sweat dampened her palms.

“That’s good. Then, guess. What do you think I’m going to do with Jo Inho and Ahn Seong-tae moving forward?”

He tilted his head slightly as if testing her. Her mind raced. What was he up to now?

Goldstone’s plan was to push Eunsung Pharmaceuticals into final bankruptcy and then, as the largest creditor, appoint Jo Inho as the court-appointed receiver. After that, they would reveal the existence of the new drug, inflate the company’s size again, drive the stock price to its peak, and reap the profit from the price difference. She knew that was the final goal.

Of course, the detailed plans were flashy—stripping the company to its bones through subsidiary sales and large-scale restructuring. The reason for wanting Jo Inho as the receiver was to minimize backlash from existing executives and creditors and to facilitate the court’s bankruptcy division’s decision. Thus, Jo Inho and Ahn Seong-tae were obviously meant to be used as pawns in that plan.

But was he saying there was another idea beyond that?

“Want a hint?”

As she remained lost in thought, he lazily granted her mercy.

“I got a call from Chairman Jo Seong-ho’s secretary earlier.”

Then, surely…

“Are you going to cut ties with Jo Inho early?”

“You’ve already figured me out.”

He laughed, as if shouting “Bingo!”

Hyeonseo let out a sharp breath. She knew he was a man with no loyalty, ethics, or conscience when it came to money, but he was more of a villain than she had imagined. He intended to hold both people in his hands, weigh them against each other, and ruthlessly squeeze out more value.

Suddenly, Yang Jaesuk’s words calling him a “money ghost” came to mind. Looking back, her expression was accurate. A money ghost, obsessed with profit.

“That’s a very contemptuous look you’re giving me right now.”

“…It is not.”

She denied it, but she wondered if there was a single ounce of sincerity in this man. She couldn’t even tell if he was capable of feeling emotion at all. She didn’t look away from his gaze, which seemed to pierce her soul. She didn’t want to lose to this money ghost.

His dark, bottomless eyes glimmered as his lips moved slowly.

“What is your relationship with Kim Junhan?”

“…Pardon?”

The topic jumped abruptly.

“Not some trivial answer like school senior and junior.”

She blinked, wondering what he meant. How was the factual relationship of being school colleagues “trivial”?

“What do you mean?”

Hyeonseo’s brow furrowed, still failing to grasp his intent.

“The way he stares is the same, but the eyes are entirely different. I suddenly got curious… whether Cha Hyeonseo’s temperature changes that drastically depending on the person.”

She couldn’t understand why he was suddenly curious about that. Since when did he care about things that didn’t make money? She doubted he’d even understand if she explained. A man like Seo Jeonghyeok, who was equally cold to everyone, wouldn’t easily grasp such a field.

“I’ve known Sunbae for a very long time, and we’re comfortable and close. Of course it’s different from how I treat my boss, isn’t it?”

“So you’re saying I’m ‘uncomfortable’.”

Hyeonseo wanted to ask him if he was just realizing that now.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. That’s it. What more should there be?”

“A man and a woman who have known each other a long time, are comfortable, and are close… and it’s just a ‘senior and junior’ relationship?”

“……”

“Koreans are cooler than I thought.”

His smooth, mocking face was insufferable.

“It’s a human-to-human relationship before it’s a man-to-woman one. There’s no law saying you can’t be colleagues or friends just because you’re of the opposite s*x. You lived in the States since you were young, but you’re more old-fashioned than I thought, Director.”

“Fine. Let’s say it’s like that for you, Ms. Cha Hyeonseo. But do you think Kim Junhan would agree with your opinion?”

What on earth…

Instead of an answer, Hyeonseo let out a hollow laugh. She wondered why she was even having this private conversation with Seo Jeonghyeok.

“This doesn’t seem like work-related talk, so I’ll stop here. [Leo, please pull over at the large intersection after the next light.]”

She spoke to Leo, who was at the wheel. Jeonghyeok didn’t respond. He simply observed her lazily as she was the first to look away.

The car glided to a stop. Hyeonseo gave a slight bow and stepped out of the car without hesitation. To her, she was being sharp and prickly, but to Jeonghyeok, she looked like a kitten making cute, tiny growls.

“The more I know, the more I see. Just how you’ve been living.”

He murmured to himself as he watched the back of the woman walking toward the bus stop.

[ Can I ask you something? ]

Leo, checking Jeonghyeok’s expression in the rearview mirror, suddenly spoke. He wasn’t sure if his voice was even being heard; Jeonghyeok’s gaze was fixed out the window, motionless.

[ Is this simple information gathering on Cha Seon-yeop’s daughter, or is it just personal curiosity about Cha Hyeonseo? ]

Jeonghyeok finally met his eyes in the mirror as if asking what he was talking about.

[ If it’s the former, it feels a bit excessive. If it’s the latter… ]

Leo let his words trail off. To him, the scene reflected in the mirror had been very unfamiliar. As far as he knew, there was only one case where ‘Ryan Seo’s’ eyes flashed: when the target was clear. When he had accurately identified the object to be consumed and was excited by the cruel anticipation of the hunt.

But the look in Seo Jeonghyeok’s eyes just now had been somewhat ambiguous. It was different—very different—from the man he had known…

[ Which one do you think it is? ]

A counter-question came back instead of an answer. While Leo hesitated, unable to say exactly what he felt, Jeonghyeok turned his head back to the window and muttered lowly.

“Because she…”

He spoke in Korean, a language Leo couldn’t understand.

“Keeps making me go to excess, that woman.”

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