Chapter 6: The Predator’s Debt

It was just the moment when the man’s rambling was starting to get tedious.

Jeonghyeok leaned his elbow on the armrest and stared blankly at the empty wine glass, fiddling with his dark eyebrows. It was the same glass Cha Hyeonseo had been sitting across from him, sipping from with her red lips just a while ago.

“Director?”

Was he even listening to the report? Feeling suddenly awkward, the branch manager stopped speaking and called Jeonghyeok’s name again.

“Yes. I’m listening.”

Only then did his motionless eyes blink slowly and shift.

“Continue.”

“Ah… yes. So, for now, we have a verbal agreement to extend the bond maturity date until the final clinical trials are completed.”

“On whose authority?”

The voice that returned was suddenly ice-cold. As he slowly raised his head and blinked his chilling eyes, there wasn’t a trace of emotion on his face. It meant he was extremely displeased.

Branch Manager Kim reflexively swallowed hard. Having worked with him in Singapore a few years ago, he knew enough to understand what kind of person Seo Jeonghyeok was.

“They say it’s in the final Phase 3 reporting stage. They gave their word that they could proceed with the market launch as quickly as possible once it’s finished.”

“Ah. So you showed great benevolence of your own accord.”

“Once the launch begins, their repayment ability seems sufficient. They haven’t missed any interest payments so far either.”

Jeonghyeok let out a hollow breath and arched an eyebrow, looking flabbergasted by the blind pleading that didn’t stand a chance.

“Branch Manager.”

“…Yes.”

“You know why I came to Korea, don’t you?”

There was no way he didn’t. It was the head office’s decision that they could no longer ignore the Korean market, which was growing in scale year after year. Of course, it was also the opinion of the Director, Seo Jeonghyeok.

“Yes. I… know very well.”

“If you know, you shouldn’t be doing this. Six months’ worth of interest?”

He snorted, mocking the man in front of him. In the frigid atmosphere, the older man—who was at least old enough to be his uncle—could only wipe cold sweat and watch his temper.

“What are you going to do with that pocket change? Buy snacks for kids?”

“Director.”

“And after the launch? Did you get a promise that they’ll hand over every single penny of their profit to Goldstone? They’ll clear their debt with the profit, then kick us to the curb. They’ll chase us out, saying they’ve got what they wanted so we can get lost. You didn’t mistake our goal for simple debt collection, did you, Branch Manager Kim Youngjin?”

As he snapped back fiercely, the branch manager’s face turned white and frozen.

“It’s not like that, Director.”

Nevertheless, he stubbornly continued. He wasn’t just slow—he was completely out of touch. Leo, watching the situation from a distance, simply shook his head slightly.

“You might not understand because you aren’t familiar with the situation in Korea, but the Michael Foundation, which Michael operates, is a place widely known as a charitable and volunteer NGO. It has a long history and high prestige in Korean society. If the parent company goes bankrupt, the foundation will inevitably take a hit, and if that happens, the ongoing welfare projects will come to an immediate halt.”

“Yes. I suppose so.”

At the high-and-low-less, indifferent answer, the branch manager’s dry lips twitched.

“Director. This is a much bigger problem than you think.”

“And? What do you want me to do about it?”

“The government and other civic groups are also watching this situation. Naturally, as there are currently many children from broken homes sponsored by Michael…”

“Ah. You’re more serious than I expected.”

Gesturing with his hand as if he couldn’t listen anymore, he stood up. Then, approaching the tense branch manager, he shoved one hand carelessly deep into his pocket.

“Branch Manager, exactly since when have you been running a charity business behind my back?”

“I didn’t mean it in that way…”

“It sounds exactly like that to me.”

Ultimately at a loss for words, the branch manager shut his mouth.

“Fine. Even if I concede a hundred times, the reality is you haven’t even properly earned the price of those snacks over the last two years. The Korean branch alone had a single-digit average return on investment. You know that, right?”

Since it was a situation he had anticipated himself, he couldn’t respond further and closed his eyes tight. The inevitable had finally arrived.

“Still, you are a man with a definite sense of responsibility, Branch Manager. You’ve worked hard. You held out for a long time.”

It was a voice that held absolutely no sincerity. Jeonghyeok gestured with his chin toward the far exit, as if telling him to get out.

The branch manager disappeared with a despairing expression. At least he seemed to know well enough that Seo Jeonghyeok was not a human who would listen to his pleas, which was a relief.

[Are you really planning to hold the branch manager position concurrently?]

Leo, who had approached unnoticed, asked with a worried expression.

[Why? Worried your workload will increase?]

[That’s my honest feeling.]

[Who else but me would employ a secretary who lives like there’s no tomorrow?]

Spitting out a joke that sounded like the truth, he grabbed his coat.

Turning toward the window where the night scenery was vivid, he looked at the sky. Fragments of light with long tails were streaking across and splitting the night sky.

His straight, dark eyebrows twitched slightly.

[Do you see it? I’m spending this once-in-five-thousand-years moment right now just working. In that sense, I hope you’ll lend some strength during next month’s salary negotiations.]

[What strength do I have?]

After staring at the falling comet for a moment, Jeonghyeok shrugged and turned his head slyly.

[A person with no strength wouldn’t suddenly offer 5 billion to a lawyer with a fresh career.]

At the mention of Cha Hyeonseo, a subtle crack appeared on that smooth face. However, pretending otherwise, he wiped his expression, finished the remaining wine on the table, and walked away.

[When have I ever failed to recover an investment?]

[True. If she had known that, Ms. Cha Hyeonseo wouldn’t have signed so easily.]

Leo said, holding up the envelope containing Hyeonseo’s contract.

[Even if it’s annoying, set it up however she wants. It’s only fun to take things away when they have a lot to lose.]

[Yes, yes. I know very well—you want to be as cruel as possible.]

Listening to his secretary’s sarcasm, he pulled a cigarette from his case and lit it.

The pale smoke scattered dryly into the chilly air. Above his head, the long tail left by the comet was still stubbornly shining.

[Still, that woman doesn’t seem to have lived a very smooth life either.]

[I suppose. She’s still alive, shamelessly so.]

The face of the man asking as he exhaled a long puff of smoke was quite self-deprecating.

The poverty of having to survive for three days on a single slice of pizza, the misery of having to endure discrimination and contempt as if breathing—these were things that should no longer exist in his life, yet he was still inside a terrible nightmare. One he would likely find hard to wake from forever.

So your life must be an endless nightmare too. He wanted to tell her that you can’t be happy alone after throwing a person’s life—no, an entire family’s life—into the gutter.

To Cha Hyeonseo, that woman.

[I’ll say it again, I will absolutely never do anything to earn the Director’s resentment.]

When Jeonghyeok’s waiting car stopped at the lobby, Leo turned and disappeared with a shudder.

The bellboy approached with the car keys. Jeonghyeok crushed out his cigarette, trying to erase the afterimage of the woman that had been flickering before his eyes.

“Hey, you…!”

Junhan, who burst into the office door urgently, let out an exasperated breath at the scene before him. He had just run there after hearing an absurd story from someone. But seeing that it wasn’t all nonsense, his face looked even more devastated.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“You’re here?”

Hyeonseo only glanced to confirm Junhan was walking in and continued packing her belongings into boxes.

“I’m asking what this is! This right now…!”

“You heard everything before coming here, so why ask?”

“Are you serious? Goldstone?”

She nodded calmly as if it were no big deal. Her fine, medium-length hair swayed gently over her shoulders.

“The conditions were too good to refuse.”

“Then you should have at least given me a hint. You’re leaving just like this, so suddenly?”

“Why? Are you upset? Because I’m ditching you?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

When she asked with a smirk, Junhan frowned with a wronged expression.

“Even if you go under those guys, you’ll just be used for dirty work.”

“It’s not like I only did clean work here. Nothing will change.”

“It is different. At least here, they let you work with a self-protection system. How can you compare this to those thugs who might ditch you the moment you lose your value after using you up?”

“Money.”

“What?”

“They said they’d give me a lot of money. More than you could even compare. Why are you acting like this now? You know very well I’ll do anything if the money is right.”

“Hyeonseo.”

“I know. What everyone is whispering. But since none of it is wrong, I couldn’t even argue.”

It was more heartbreaking that she spoke so calmly about everything, as if it were nothing. Because he knew it wasn’t true. Because he knew she wasn’t actually fine. He knew her—how she would put up thorns instead, fearing her soft emotions might be discovered.

“Don’t worry. I’ll go there and try to endure like a weed somehow.”

“You could just live comfortably. You can earn enough money here that you wouldn’t feel neglected.”

“Don’t be greedy… is that what you want to say too, Senior?”

“Cha Hyeonseo.”

She knew what Junhan wanted to say and what he was worried about. However, he didn’t know. That Cha Hyeonseo’s situation was far more desperate than he imagined.

Well, she couldn’t expect understanding from a pampered, youngest son of a high-class legal family who had only grown up in luxury.

“Does Mr. Jo Inho know? Does he not say anything?”

“It’s my business, what does it matter to him? And…”

She hesitated for a moment at those eyes full of worry. She felt as though she was always just being a burden by his side.

“I broke up with Inho.”

“What?”

His voice rose another notch. His earlobes, which always turned bright red when he got excited, were no exception.

“Why? Why did you break up? With the wedding only two months away, why so suddenly? That guy, surely…!”

“Surely, what?”

Whether he had expected something, he stopped mid-sentence and let out a long sigh. Holding his forehead, he let out a shout as if it were absurd.

“If something like that happened, you should have told me right away. Why suffer alone? What on earth do you think of me…”

“What about it?”

She asked back with a conversely calm, settled expression. His gaze, having lost its way, wandered.

“What. Are you my guardian or something, Senior? You’re acting way too close, it’s embarrassing.”

She indifferently lifted the box filled with her belongings.

“I was the one who dumped Jo Inho. So don’t overreact.”

She didn’t want to cause unnecessary worry to the soft-hearted Kim Junhan. Especially since she already felt like she was always indebted to him.

She left the office with a heavy heart. The CEO, whose feelings were thoroughly hurt, refused to even accept a final goodbye, and her colleagues, busy with work, only offered a few formal words. After five years of grinding her soul to work there, the end was nothing but pathetic.