Knock knock knock — the doorbell and the pounding on the door alternated in rapid succession. Heesin, sprawled on the sofa nursing a hangover, barely managed to drag himself up and check the intercom. An unfamiliar man’s face appeared on the screen. When he asked who it was, the man pushed his face closer to the camera.
— Good morning. I’m from the real estate agency. I’m here to show the unit. Didn’t the landlord contact you?
One moment. He hastily checked his phone to find missed calls and unread messages. He’d known the place was being listed, but he never imagined anyone would be coming at this hour. He pulled himself together as best he could and went to the front door to let them in. The real estate agent poked his round, pale face through the gap with a smile.
“Oh my, I’m so sorry to come by so early. We’ll just have a quick look and be on our way~”
The agent, who had been cheerfully chatting away, came to a brief halt. Perhaps it was the beer cans rolling around on the table, or perhaps the stack of instant noodle cups piled on the dining table. Heesin was hastily gathering them up and tossing them in the bin when a young couple followed in behind.
Excuse us.
They gave a polite greeting, then began inspecting every corner of the apartment.
It’s smaller than I expected. It’s not like we’re going to live here ourselves. It’s an investment property. That’s true.
“Even though it’s just one man living here, the tenant has kept it in very good condition. Can you see? Not a trace of mold. There are rumors about redevelopment in the area, so good units are scarce these days. Grab the opportunity while it’s here.”
The agent launched into the redevelopment talk again — something that may or may not ever actually happen. He’d been the same way from the very first time Heesin had seen the place. Going on about how redevelopment was just around the corner, and suggesting he consider buying outright. As if that’s even remotely possible when I barely scraped together a deposit loan.
Heesin stood awkwardly to one side until they finished their look around.
“How much are you thinking of borrowing?”
“Our parents are going to help us out.”
“Oh, lucky you. Born with a silver spoon. Silver spoon, through and through.”
“Not quite a silver spoon. They just have the means to help.”
“That’s exactly what a silver spoon is. You wouldn’t believe how many difficult parents are out there these days. Parents who leech off their own children — there’s no shortage of those.”
“Oh come on. Are those really that common?”
“Why not. You’d be surprised.”
Listening to it, something twisted unpleasantly in his gut. As someone with a parent who had drained him dry, he wanted to say something. More common than you’d think. In fact, you’ve got one standing right in front of you. So be grateful you have good parents and spend your whole life thankful for it. Otherwise you’d have ended up pouring water into a bottomless jar, like me.
The three of them spent a while looking around, then left with a promise to be in touch. Once the uninvited guests were gone, he dragged himself back to the sofa and lay down. Then, while he had his wits about him, he started going through the messages on his phone one by one.
— Hey, you. What do you think you’re doing! Pick up the phone right now.
— Oppa, are you asleep?
— Kang. Are you seriously going to pull this? Come straight to my office when you get in.
— Prosecutor, where are you? Did you get home safely? The district prosecutors’ office has been calling nonstop since earlier and it’s chaos here. What on earth is going on? I’m scared.
— Oppa, are you seriously doing this? Are you mad at me about something?
— Prosecutor Kang. I get that you have a grievance with me, but you can’t handle work like this. You knew, didn’t you? You knew and you handed it over anyway.
He was reading through each message with a blank expression when a call came in from Yun Sena. The moment he picked up, a somewhat agitated voice came pouring through.
— Oppa! Why have you been so unreachable?
“Sorry. Things have been hectic.”
— What could possibly be so hectic that you couldn’t answer my calls?
Unlike her usual self, Yun Sena’s voice had a sharp edge to it. He felt a flash of resentment. I put up with everything from you without complaint, and you’re getting angry over a few missed phone calls.
“Didn’t the people you hired tell you. That my hyung died.”
Silence from the other end of the line.
— Oppa….
“I’m listening. Go ahead.”
Yun Sena’s voice softened considerably.
— I was just worried about you…. I didn’t have bad intentions.
“I know.”
— I swear, I dropped them already! The bastards stopped answering and just disappeared.
They didn’t disappear — Im Gyeong got to them and they went into hiding.
— How long have you known…?
He didn’t bring up the fact that Im Gyeong had helped. Even if they were half-siblings, he didn’t want to stir up unnecessary trouble. He was genuinely displeased. But he couldn’t lay all his feelings bare. On the surface it might have looked no different from any other couple, but between Yun Sena and him there was an invisible hierarchy of sorts.
— You’re not angry, are you…?
“No.”
— …Really not?
“No. But don’t do it again. It wasn’t pleasant.”
Alright…. A deflated voice came through. Whenever Yun Sena, who always carried herself with such confidence, had moments like this, it used to give him a small, smug satisfaction — as if he were somehow more. But not today. Why isn’t she asking? Whether the funeral went alright. Whether he’s doing okay. Even if his hyung was barely family, she could at least ask. But then again, would it change anything if she did.
— …I have something.
Lost in his thoughts, he’d missed what she said.
“Sorry?”
— I called because I have good news.
“What news?”
— Dad invited you to the 50th anniversary founding ceremony.
He was momentarily speechless. Suddenly? Hadn’t Chairman Yun been the one to keep his distance so stubbornly all this time?
— You’ll definitely come, right?
Yun Sena’s voice was starting to lift with excitement.
“…When is it?”
— Next Saturday.
“……”
— You’re coming, right?
“…Yeah, of course. I’ll be there.”
Yun Sena’s voice brightened noticeably. They talked a little more after that, and then the call ended. He sat there, dumbfounded. He had no idea what Chairman Yun could be thinking, inviting him like this.
He sat mulling it over for a long while, then finally got up and went to his room to retrieve the envelope containing the hundred-million-won check.
Having made up his mind to return the money today, no matter what.
“Please, spare me! Please!” A man with his hands bound behind his back lay flat on the floor, screaming and begging for his life. A moment later, Tatsuki emerged from the kitchen, carrying a lacquered black tray with both hands. On the tray, a warmed white porcelain teapot and teacups were set out neatly. Without a word, he pulled all the blinds on the windows closed, and shortly after, Im Gyeong walked out from inside wearing a robe.
As Im Gyeong reached up to push his disheveled hair back, the man crawled on his knees toward him and pleaded desperately.
“Please spare me! If you let me live, I’ll do anything!”
Im Gyeong walked past the man and went to sit at the table.
“I was wrong! I’ll never do it again! Never! Just let me live!”
The man alternated between Japanese and Korean.
As he tried to grab hold of Im Gyeong’s legs, a nearby bodyguard stepped on his shoulder to stop him.
Im Gyeong looked at the man and smiled — a smile that was dangerously beautiful.
“If you were going to use my maternal grandfather’s name, you should have at least done it properly.”
“I was wrong! I’m sorry! Please let me live! I have an elderly mother!”
“I have a mother too. Not quite as old as yours, though.”
Im Gyeong checked his watch, then continued.
“I have tea at exactly this time every day.”
The man’s eyes went wide. What?
Im Gyeong tilted the teapot and poured the steeped tea into the cup.
His manner may have been casual and unrestrained, but when it came to tea, he was precise and dignified.
He lifted the cup, and a faint grassy fragrance mingled with a sweet undertone rose from it. As he brought it to his lips, a smooth, lingering umami settled on his tongue. In that moment, a certain man came to mind. Someone who reminded him of bamboo after rain. Someone who seemed like he would pair well with this tea…. If the chance ever came, he would make sure to serve it to him.
But there was something else to attend to first, so he set the cup down and rose to his feet.
“This is a tradition of our family.”
“……”
“Which is why no one interrupts this time. No one.”
“Wh-what do you mean by that….”
He gestured, and a bodyguard behind him brought forward a janggeom — a long sword. Shing — the blue-white blade slid free from its scabbard, and the bodyguard grabbed the man by the hair and wrenched his head back. The man let out a choked gasp, his face draining white with terror. Im Gyeong’s eyes as he inspected the blade also gleamed with killing intent.
“Please, please let me live! If you spare me, I’ll do anythi—”
In an instant, the long sword cut through the air and grazed the man’s throat, leaving a thin red line across it horizontally. Then the skin split open and crimson blood sprayed out in a gush. The man made not another sound, clutching at his throat as he pitched forward.
He convulsed, then gradually went still, and the floor was soon soaked dark red. Im Gyeong handed the bloodied sword to one of the bodyguards. Then, with perfect composure, he walked back over, wiped the blood from his hand, and picked up the teacup again. Just as he appeared to be resuming his tea, his phone rang.
He turned to look at Tatsuki, who was attending at his side.
“Looks like there’s another one who wants to die.”
But when he checked the caller, his face was brighter than usual.
“What’s the matter, this early in the morning?”
His voice as he answered the call was noticeably warm. Before him, the staff were in the process of removing the body of the man who had just died. Im Gyeong tracked their movements with his eyes, and gave a composed nod.
“Sure. Let’s meet. We can grab a meal while we’re at it.”
