Should I take a taxi? It was called a gift, and that made him worry unnecessarily. He was afraid he might accidentally scratch it while carrying it.
―Yeah. It’s something super rare, brought over from abroad. Just one bag. If you hide it in the wardrobe, the housekeeper won’t know either.
His mom had said she’d be back next week, and given Grandma’s health, there was a good chance it would run even later than that. He had no idea how big it was, but storing a single bag was nothing.
That said — just what kind of gift was it that he’d go this far to hide it from his own family. Only someone who thought that was possible while living under the same roof.
“I get off at 4. Tell him not to be late. Give him my number.”
And only someone like me, caving for a million won.
Dohui left his friend’s delighted voice behind, hung up, and closed his eyes again.
The brief call had already chased his sleep away and it didn’t come back. He’d tossed and turned a few times when his phone screen lit up — and a bank app notification showed a deposit of one million won.
“Whoa…… it’s real.”
***
Work went smoothly the next day as well. Dohui had always been confident with anything done by hand, and that showed in his fruit-cutting too.
“Dohui, you’re gonna keep going after break ends, right? I’ll put in a good word with the manager.”
When the head chef made his pitch, the sous-chef beside him scoffed.
“Come on. This kid’s a university student. Why would he pull all-nighters for this? Don’t go luring in someone who doesn’t need to be here. You’ll ruin his life.”
“Ruin his life? And you buried yourself here to ruin yours, did you?”
The loud smacks of the head chef hitting the sous-chef on the back rang out painfully. Dohui watched the scene and laughed silently to himself. On his first day, he’d genuinely thought those two were fighting when they bickered like that — but after a few days, he could tell it was just how close they were.
“During break I’ll do longer shifts, and during the semester I’ll come in for shorter ones.”
“Oh. Yeah, yeah. Dohui’s got fast hands — it’s nothing but good for me. What’s gotten into the manager? He’d never listen when I asked him to find someone, and now look.”
“Right? I thought he was going to quit. He’s not the type, though. Acts like the owner’s money is his own money.”
“My goodness. Watch your mouth.”
“Who’s going to hear us? Oh — anyway, you think there won’t be another blackout today?”
“There you go again, talking nonsense. Sous-chef, you keep loving freebies like that and you’ll go bald before you hit forty.”
“Honestly, head chef, you loved it too. Don’t pretend otherwise. That was the first time we ever wrapped up before midnight, wasn’t it? What a blessing.”
A few days back, an intense gust of wind had blown in. It felt like a typhoon in the middle of winter. The force of it brought down a high-voltage line, and the entire building lost power.
The club descended into complete chaos. Furious guests and flustered staff all tangled together. Order was restored fairly quickly, but the power company said it would take quite a while to come out and sort things out — and so that night, everyone clocked out early.
“The power company already came out and checked everything. It won’t happen again.”
“Aww…… Tsk, who works this hard. They say repairs take like a whole week sometimes.”
“Are you insane? You think everyone works like you do?”
“What do you mean, like me.”
They went back and forth for a while longer, and then suddenly there was a sharp crack! — Dohui’s shoulders jerked in surprise, though nothing had actually broken. The shock was just enough, however, to make the paring knife in his hand slip and nick his thumb.
A slow seep of blood made its way onto the fruit. Dohui startled and quickly pulled his hand back, but the bloodstain had already spread across the melon.
“Oh no, you okay?”
The head chef moved toward him with concern. He tore off some tissue and wrapped it thickly around the wound. It was a shallow cut, but the blood flowed longer than expected.
“Why are you just standing there. Go get a bandage, quick. A thick one.”
The sous-chef dashed out and came back with a bandage. It was lucky there was a basic first-aid kit on hand for exactly these situations. When the tissue was peeled away, small beads of blood welled up along the thin, hairline cut.
“Keep pressure on it. It’s not deep — it’ll clot soon.”
“I’m fine. If I wrap a bandage on, it’ll stop.”
“You sure you’re alright?”
“Yes, please don’t worry.”
“That guy’s voice is just way too loud.”
The head chef shot the sous-chef a sharp look. It wasn’t until Dohui had said he was fine about five more times that the whole situation finally settled down.
With the bandage wound tightly around his finger, his hand slowed.
“Come here. I’ll do it.”
The sous-chef stepped forward readily and nudged Dohui aside. I’m fine though…… he mumbled, but only the paring knife was taken from his hand.
“Didn’t you get hurt because of me? I’m doing this for my own sake, so you go do something easier. Easy stuff.”
Dohui ended up handing the work over without quite meaning to and moved on to odds and ends like sorting through the trash. The sous-chef’s hands were incredibly fast — probably because of his rank — and Dohui found himself standing beside him, watching slack-jawed.
The sous-chef leaned in toward him slightly and spoke as though sharing a secret.
“I saw the owner on my way in today. Like, a lot.”
It was such an unremarkable piece of news that the caution behind it only made it more puzzling.
“You work here and this is the first time you’ve seen the owner?”
The head chef had already drifted over to listen as well. If the manager catches us slacking again, we’re going to get an earful…… Dohui glanced toward the kitchen door out of habit.
“No, not that — it’s the first time I’ve ever seen the owner come running out in a fluster like that.”
“The owner?”
“That’s what I’m saying. That…… who was it. That person. The VIP.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about. Stop talking in circles and just say it. I’m about to lose my mind.”
“Ugh, seriously. Dohui saw him too. Right, Dohui?”
The sous-chef shot him a desperate, pleading look.
Dohui nodded. Sure, he’d only caught a glimpse in passing — but the man had truly been something else. The phrase living in a different world had never felt so tangible to him.
“So who is it?”
The sous-chef jutted his chin out as if to say look at my face. The head chef recoiled with a grimace.
“You know, that intimidating one. Comes by once in a while……”
“Director Gong?”
“Yes, yes, that’s him. Gong Haejin, was it?”
“That sounds right.”
“Gong Haejin……”
While Dohui turned the name over on his tongue, the two of them carried on — more astonished at having spotted the VIP guest than at seeing the owner — saying his presence was overwhelming, that they nearly wet themselves, and listening to them, it sounded less like they were describing a person and more like some kind of monster.
“He’s seriously handsome though. God, I’d want to live one day in that face.”
“Dream on. You couldn’t get a face like that even in your dreams — give it up.”
The sous-chef wailed that’s too cruel! and got smacked again. Those two really were perfectly matched.
Working like that, losing track of time, before he knew it the small hand of the clock was creeping toward the number four.
“I think that’s the last of it — let’s start wrapping up.”
With all the final tasks done, Dohui made his way to the meeting spot.
A bus stop where not even the first bus had come yet. He kneaded the hand warmer in his pocket and shuffled his feet. It was brutal weather to be standing outside at four in the morning. Every minute felt like an hour — and just then, a pitch-black sedan came rolling toward him.
Is that the one? The other person must have spotted him too, because the car slowed and gradually came to a stop in front of Dohui. The already bleak, lightless atmosphere — and now a car pulling up right in front of him — sent a chill crawling up from his toes, even knowing it was Jinho’s uncle.
It wasn’t just from the cold. The rear window slid down without a sound, and the man inside tilted his head slightly.
His nose kept wanting to run. As Dohui sniffled and approached, the man flicked his hand. Lower your mask? Dohui pulled it down just enough to show his lips and greeted him. In the biting wind, his lips trembled visibly.
“Hello. You’re Jinho’s uncle, right?”
“Yeah. The bag.”
The uncle reached to the seat beside him and handed over a single pitch-black Boston bag. Just one bag, he’d said — but it was heavier than expected. It was a bit tight to pass through the car window, yet Jinho’s uncle showed no intention of getting out.
The bag scraped along the window frame as it made its way over to Dohui. Wow, this thing is seriously heavy. One of Dohui’s shoulders tilted with the weight.
“Careful with that.”
“Sorry? Yes.”
At Dohui’s reply, the uncle gave the driver a brief command to go, and without so much as a goodbye, the car pulled away quickly.
“Take ca——”
The polite farewell was swallowed by the winter wind. Dohui stared blankly at the spot the car had disappeared from, cold forgotten for a moment. What was that. Must be incredibly busy with an early morning flight. Dohui readjusted the bag that was slipping off his shoulder and pulled his mask back up.
The exhaustion of an all-nighter compounded with the weight of the bag. Just think about the money. Just the money…… It felt mercenary, but there was nothing he could do about it.
Not long ago, the small restaurant his mom had been running closed down due to financial difficulties. There were too many places like that these days. Restaurants that sprang up overnight and vanished just as fast.
In the end, his mom had to find work as an employee somewhere. But lately, with businesses cutting labor costs by hiring mostly foreign workers, her re-employment wasn’t going as hoped — despite not even raising her standards.
It’s so cold. Should I take a taxi?
