Chapter 17: Phantom Pains and Fever Dreams

It was a nightmare he had lived a thousand times. The same time, the same place, the same sequence. In his dreams, Jeonghyeok was always thrust back into the center of that horrific scene from twenty-four years ago.

The image of his young sister gasping for air on the cold cement floor of a basement rose up vividly, choking him. That face looking up at him, breathing in shallow, raspy wheezes. Those eyes, filled with sorrow and plea. The helplessness of watching a child die and being unable to do anything. The nightmare of that day consisted entirely of his own sobbing, begging for her to be saved.

With a face smeared with tears, he had looked around. A thin sliver of light filtered through a small, grimy glass window high above. To eleven-year-old Jeonghyeok, it looked like salvation.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

With his fists, his body, and the scattered chunks of rebar—he had pounded on that glass with everything he had.

Crash—!

Finally, the window shattered. His small, delicate fists were stained crimson, the torn skin gaping deep, but he had no time to feel the pain. The child’s breathing was growing shorter. Jeonghyeok gritted his teeth and scrambled up through the window. His only thought was to escape and bring back her inhaler.

He ran with all his might. His breath hitched in his throat and his body was drenched in sweat, but he couldn’t stop. His sister’s life hung on his hands.

In the middle of summer, under the scorching sun, Jeonghyeok ran and ran. Until his lungs felt like they would burst. Until his mind grew hazy. Until the world finally spun out of focus and he collapsed.

“Ugh, gah…! Haa!”

He snapped his eyes open, the sensation of suffocation still vivid.

Jeonghyeok groaned as he crawled across the bed, clutching his right hand. A pain surged through him as if his entire hand were being severed. The agony arrived without warning, merciless and viciously persistent. His vision began to whiten.

“Ha! Argh…!”

With a face pale as death, he crawled with his last ounce of strength. Gasping for air, he reached out with a trembling left hand. He grabbed the pill bottle on the side table. Like a drug addict, he upended the bottle. Feeling the impending doom of suffocation, he swallowed the pills dry. The cluster of tablets scraped harshly down his parched esophagus.

He collapsed back onto the sheets. His limbs curled inward from a pain so intense he couldn’t even scream. Then and now, there was nothing he could do. He could only wait in silence for the agony to pass. No matter how much he struggled, he ended up in the same place. Helpless.

In the end, that day, his sister had closed her eyes alone on that cold cement floor. He couldn’t blame anyone. Not Cha Seon-yeop, who had kidnapped and imprisoned them, nor his parents, who refused to compromise with the world.

It was simply all his fault. His sister died because he couldn’t keep running—because he had collapsed like a fool in the middle of the road and lost consciousness.

For twenty-four years, the intensity of the pain had not diminished in the slightest.

The medication kicked in quickly. As if the pain had never existed, the agony in his hand vanished and his breathing stabilized. He lifted his face from the sheets and rolled onto his back. The bed was damp with sweat.

“Haa.”

He exhaled a heavy breath, staring up at the ceiling light. No matter how many times it repeated, he never got used to it. He couldn’t guarantee how much longer he could endure this. It wouldn’t be strange at all if he were found dead on this bed tomorrow morning.

He lifted his right hand—the one that had been screaming as if it were being cut off—and stared at it. Fortunately, it was still perfectly attached. Only the ugly scar on the back of his hand remained vivid.

His doctor had diagnosed this as phantom pain caused by severe trauma. Pain that was a mere illusion—pain that wasn’t real.

What a hilarious load of crap. It meant that a pain born of an illusion, something not even real, was devouring his entire life.

“f*ck…”

Cursing under his breath, he buried his face in both hands. Once the merciless phantom pain ended, a wave of regret and self-reproach, even more cruel, always came crashing in like a tide. Without fail.

Buzz. Buzz.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there before his phone on the headboard vibrated. He reached out and checked the name on the screen.

Cha Hyeonseo. His eyes fixed on those three syllables like a nail. An unfamiliar emotion bloomed strangely within him. His brow furrowed deeply. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“Yes.”

His voice came out low and submerged.

— “It’s Cha Hyeonseo. I’m sorry for calling so early, but I just received an urgent call from CEO Kim Kyeong-uk’s secretary. He insists on having lunch with you today. It seems he has made up his mind.”

Listening to her calm, steady voice, he imagined her pink lips moving as she spoke. He visualized her obsidian eyes, her clear forehead, and her cheeks that likely flushed when she was focused. He remembered that face that had stared at him—the face that almost made him forget exactly who she was.

As the image of the woman became vivid, bitter saliva pooled in his parched mouth. The strange emotion blooming in his chest felt like a knot of indigestion.

Jeonghyeok unconsciously gritted his teeth.

— “Are you listening?”

The woman’s voice sounded innocent yet bold.

“You decide on a suitable time and place and notify them. We’ll discuss the details when I get to the office.”

He tossed the phone aside, placed the back of his hand over his forehead, and squeezed his eyes shut.

Leo was right. It was excessive. His observation, his interest, his emotions regarding Cha Hyeonseo—all of it. It was far too much to dismiss as mere curiosity born of hatred and resentment. She was merely the blood of the devil who had destroyed his and his family’s lives. There was no reason to grant her any more meaning than that.

“Whew…”

Something was going wrong.

Standing before the mirror, Hyeonseo carefully peeled off the small bandage under her lip. The wound had healed significantly, leaving only a faint trace behind.

Suddenly, the sensation of the man’s finger touching her lip came back vividly. The intense gaze he had held while gripping her chin, looking as though he could see right through her, remained clear in her mind. It was impossible to forget.

“Is this how you’ve always eased your guilt, justified your actions, and comforted yourself?”

“Why do you keep acting tough? When you can’t even handle it.”

“You must have had a hard time. How hard you must have worked to endure while wearing a mask that doesn’t even fit.”

Was it a distortion of memory? The words she had initially taken as mockery and sarcasm felt ambiguous the more she replayed them. They almost sounded like comfort—telling her that the world is a shitty place, so she should only endure what she can. It was a sense of relief, a déjà vu, like that night the meteor fell.

Her cheeks flushed as she recalled the touch on her lips and face. The memory made her breath hitch. She told herself it was simply because his body temperature was much higher than average.

Brushing her hair behind her ear, she stared blankly at her reddened cheeks in the reflection. Her eyes held lingering thoughts she couldn’t shake. She pressed her lips together.

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

Sol had entered without her noticing and reached for the faucet. The loud splash of water broke the silence.

“What could you possibly be thinking about to make your face turn that red? Did something exciting happen again?”

As Sol prodded, Hyeonseo quickly lowered her head and turned on the water.

“Did you… look into Ahn Seong-tae’s alias accounts?”

She hurried to change the subject. Her heart was racing for no reason.

Fortunately, Sol nodded and answered readily. “Yes. Turns out the darkest place is under the lamp. I dug into his brother-in-law, Kang Joon-gi, the Vice President of JD Electronics, and found a suspicious account.”

“What kind?”

“Billions of won have been flowing in and out of an account under the name of Kang Joon-gi’s mistress’s mother over the last two years. The sender is an overseas corporation, which turns out to be a paper company. They’ve brokered trade between Eunsung Pharmaceuticals and foreign drug companies a few times. Smells fishy, doesn’t it?”

Surprised by Sol’s unexpected efficiency, Hyeonseo turned to stare at her.

“How did you find that? It couldn’t have been easy.”

“It’s all thanks to you, Lawyer, since you always pick the most difficult tasks to give me.”

Sol shrugged, acting as if it were no big deal. Proud and grateful, Hyeonseo’s lips curled into a smile.

They had worked together for four years. Sol, a highly capable investigator at the Prosecutor’s Office, had suddenly resigned to join Hyeonseo to repay a debt—one that money couldn’t cover. If not for Hyeonseo, Sol would likely be in hell right now, framed for her father’s murder. To her, Hyeonseo was more than just a benefactor; she was a savior who had reached into the mire to pull her out.

“Oh, by the way. A call came in from the Director’s office earlier. They said you don’t need to accompany him to the lunch today. The Director is going alone.”

The white hand drying itself with a paper towel flinched and stopped.

“Oh? Is that so?”

Hyeonseo nodded and walked out of the room.