Chapter 4: Black T-Shirt, Black Fate.

As if he understood Si-hyeon’s inner turmoil, Cha Hae-jun merely took a few steps forward and picked up the phone Si-hyeon had thrown away. It was a simple movement, yet somehow precise, almost elegant in its restraint.

“Bae Si-hyeon-ssi.”

“What! What now?!”

“At least now I know one thing, your name.”

For a moment, Si-hyeon was at a loss for words. He wondered, quite reasonably, whether he was speaking some alien language instead of Korean.

Unfortunately, both what he heard and what he spoke were perfectly Korean. The odd, stilted rhythm of their conversation had to be entirely Cha Hae-jun’s fault.

“No, listen…”

“I couldn’t even file a proper report,” Hae-jun continued calmly. “I didn’t know your name. All I had was a description of your appearance, which wasn’t sufficient. And filing a report blindly would be… inhumane. Besides, I wasn’t even certain you were actually Korean. It would’ve been difficult to contact the embassy based solely on your ethnicity. I prefer to handle things quietly.”

He shrugged and casually tossed the broken phone into a nearby trash bin. When Si-hyeon had thrown it, only the edge had cracked.

Now it looked completely crushed, as though someone had deliberately crumpled it. Si-hyeon leaned forward in confusion, then straightened awkwardly when their eyes met.

“If that’s the case, you could’ve said so earlier… Grabbing someone’s jaw like that, what was that about?”

His words trailed off as he rubbed his chin.

Come to think of it, even if Hae-jun had acted like a lunatic, he had been the one to bring Si-hyeon to the hospital after he collapsed. If the man had simply walked away, Si-hyeon, bag stolen, identity unclear, would’ve likely been treated far worse.

“You’re the first person to thank me after I threatened to report them,” Hae-jun replied coolly. “And I have no intention of letting you go. On what basis would I release a thief back into the streets?”

The sharp tone made Si-hyeon’s gaze harden.

“I didn’t steal anything.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“I really didn’t!”

A faint, pleasant scent drifted through the air. Si-hyeon scrunched his nose unconsciously before snapping back, irritated.

“Why are you framing an innocent person?”

He might have spent years rotting in a factory and lacked higher education, but he knew how the world worked. You couldn’t just pin crimes on innocent people. With that conviction, he squared his shoulders.

“I didn’t steal anything. I was chasing the guy who stole my wallet.”

“…”

“I’m serious! That wallet… it’s really important. All my money was in there…”

As Si-hyeon mumbled, Hae-jun extended a tablet toward him. A video was displayed on the screen.

“This is CCTV footage. Take a look. Decide for yourself whether you’re a thief.”

“Please. Of course I’m not. What thief-”

He fell silent mid-sentence.

The footage showed a man from behind. Black T-shirt. Jeans.

Si-hyeon instinctively recalled what he had been wearing while wandering around the hotel days ago.

It was exactly the same.

“Uh…”

This wasn’t right. He had wandered around the hotel, yes, but he hadn’t stolen anything. The image quality wasn’t perfect, but based on the clothes alone, it looked like him. He replayed the short clip several times. The facts didn’t change.

The person in the video rifled through decorative items in the hallways and even tried the handles of other guests’ rooms.

“I-I mean, that’s not me! It’s not!”

“The clothes match perfectly with what you were wearing that day. The hotel staff’s testimony matches as well. They said you were searching through the corridors. Are they mistaken?”

Si-hyeon felt utterly wronged. His heart pounded with growing panic. Everything was twisting in a direction he couldn’t control. Fidgeting with his fingernails, he stammered:

“Black T-shirts and jeans… everyone wears that…”

“I wonder how many guests in the same hotel were dressed identically, while also rummaging through decorations suspiciously. It’s rather difficult to explain within the bounds of common sense.”

“I mean… that’s…”

“You’d better think carefully before answering.”

Biting his lip, one foot curling nervously against the floor, Si-hyeon asked cautiously:

“I really didn’t steal anything. What did the thief even take?”

“Something important.”

“What is it?”

Hae-jun didn’t answer, merely watching him with a tilted gaze. Under that stare, Si-hyeon hesitantly sat at the edge of the bed.

“Whatever it is, I hope you find it. It really wasn’t me. Look! I’ve been robbed clean, I have nothing! If I’m really innocent, what are you going to do? You can’t just threaten some random civilian like this!”

“I believe I said you should answer carefully.”

“If it’s not me, what am I supposed to say? I’m innocent. Just… once I find my wallet, I’ll pay for the painting. Please stop calling me a thief…”

He kept denying it, but he had no proof. If Hae-jun was telling the truth, he had already gathered testimonies against him.

Still, it felt unbearably unfair. If he had actually stolen something, maybe he wouldn’t feel this angry.

Fidgeting with his fingers, head bowed, a sudden thought crossed his mind. His gaze drifted to his casted arm and bandaged leg.

Right on cue, a thin file was placed in front of him.

“This is the surgical cost breakdown.”

Unbelievable.

With trembling hands, he opened it, and nearly lost his mind at the numbers filled with zeros.

“How many zeros are there…?”

Even if prices were inflated, this was ridiculous. The bill itemized everything in meticulous detail.

“Wait… I’m totally fine! I don’t even hurt! And what is this pricing? Two hundred fifty thousand won for a cast? That’s insane! Two casts for five hundred thousand? And that Carnelli or whatever artist isn’t even that famous, right? Ten casts and I could buy his painting myself…!”

Even if he wasn’t perfectly fine, this was excessive treatment. He’d read news articles about hospitals overcharging clueless patients. Was that what was happening?

“Excuse me-!”

“In the United States, that’s standard for this level of treatment,” Hae-jun replied coolly. “Hospital fees plus the painting, buying a house would cost less. Just tell the truth. My lawyer mentioned conditional repayment. Answer me. Where did you hide my item?”

He had nothing to answer. He hadn’t stolen anything.

Biting his lip, Si-hyeon tried to look at the bill again, but Hae-jun plucked it from his hands and scanned it briefly.

Surgery and supplies. Intensive care. ICU admission. Medication. Blood tests. Lab work.

The total billed amount: 370,000 dollars.

“The breakdown appears accurate.”

“Why do you keep calling me a thief? I didn’t take anything. In my twenty-something years of life, I’ve never lied like this. I’ve never been so desperate I had to steal. Call the police! I’ll talk to them! I didn’t do it! And since you’ve already paid for the painting and hospital, I’ll repay you. Isn’t that enough? I’ll pay!”

He nearly jumped out of his seat in indignation—then stared at the total again, lips twitching.

This was absurd. He was the accident victim. Why should he pay hospital fees?

His foreman’s voice from the factory echoed in his head:

“Crossing the ocean, huh? Don’t be stupid! You’ll get smacked from behind, organs harvested. Pale bastards will strip you clean—money and everything else.”

Pale bastards.

Cha Hae-jun was very pale.

“You’ll remain here until you decide to tell the truth,” Hae-jun said evenly. “As for the hospital fees, handle them yourself. You did say you’d sell your organs if necessary. I’ll assume you have the ability to pay. When you’re ready to speak honestly, we’ll meet again.”

“Fine! I’ll give you 370,000 won first. Give me your account number. I can transfer that much right now!”

Si-hyeon hurriedly pulled out his phone and nodded firmly.

Three hundred seventy thousand won.

Maybe this guy thought he was completely broke, that he couldn’t even afford that.

Hae-jun’s expression shifted subtly at Si-hyeon’s brazen confidence.