Chapter 10: A Long Battle
Cha Seonyoo examined the wound on Yeon’s neck with a detached air, as if it were nothing more than a smudge on a windowpane.
“Did Dohyuk do this?”
Yeon didn’t answer, but her tone suggested she already knew. She leaned back slightly, her gaze flickering over the wound with clinical indifference.
“It doesn’t look too deep.”
She didn’t ask if it hurt, didn’t offer sympathy. Whether she was simply used to such incidents or didn’t care because the injured party was Yeon—and not her son—was unclear. She sat down on the sofa, her posture relaxed, as if discussing the weather.
“Sit down. Don’t just stand there.”
Yeon hesitated, acutely aware of his disheveled state, but she didn’t seem to care. He excused himself and retreated to the room at the end of the hall to change into fresh clothes.
When he returned, Cha Seonyoo’s sharp eyes took in his appearance.
“Same clothes?”
Her voice carried a note of curiosity, as if she were observing a peculiar artifact.
“Like a uniform?”
Yeon didn’t bother explaining. The white hanbok wasn’t a uniform in the traditional sense, but it was the color mandated by Mu-yeong, the leader of Muryeong. The style and embroidery varied, but the color remained the same—white, to evoke an otherworldly impression. Yeon saw no point in justifying it to her.
Cha Seonyoo’s expression shifted, her voice dropping to a more serious tone.
“How’s the work going? My Dohyuk is safe, right?”
This was her real concern. She had gone so far as to hire a shaman for her son—of course, his safety was her priority.
“He’ll be safe for a while.”
Yeon had already severed one or two of the most immediate evil connections threatening Dohyuk. Many still lingered, but not all who harbored malice acted on it. If the resentment or hatred deepened, it would become dangerous, but for now, the issues could be managed gradually.
“However, a few deep-rooted evil connections won’t be resolved in a day or two.”
Yeon answered honestly. As he had mentioned before, three of the connections were particularly dangerous. They weren’t emotions formed overnight but had taken root over years. Calming them would take time.
“I’m sure it’s Kang Sunhyuk.”
Cha Seonyoo muttered, almost to herself, her voice laced with quiet certainty.
“Resolve it as quickly as possible. Before anything happens to Dohyuk.”
Her voice was calm, elegant, but beneath it lay a mother’s worry—and something sharper, something more urgent.
“It’s impossible.”
Yeon’s blunt reply made her eyes sharpen, her gaze turning icy.
“You should know how much I paid Muryeong. ‘Impossible’ is a big word for that amount of money. Make it possible. That’s your job.”
Yeon wanted to resolve it, too. But without Dohyuk giving him time while he slept, it was impossible.
Human connections weren’t one-sided. Evil connections existed because both parties harbored malice. The stronger the connection, the more both sides needed to soften their emotions before it could be severed. That was why Yeon needed Dohyuk to sleep—only then would the malice Dohyuk felt toward the other party fade, even if just for a moment.
Cha Seonyoo wouldn’t understand this, no matter how he explained it. She would only pressure Yeon, ignoring her son’s attitude. Most clients were the same. They paid money and demanded results, blaming Yeon if things went wrong, even if they didn’t cooperate.
Explaining would only lead to pointless arguments, and they wouldn’t understand anyway. So Yeon didn’t bother. Telling Dohyuk that he needed to sleep for Yeon to sever the evil connections would only earn him a scoff.
“If you dare face me, I won’t refuse.”
Dohyuk’s words had been devoid of sincerity, but for a moment, Yeon’s mind had raced. He had remained calm only because he knew Dohyuk’s words held no real intent. The hands pressing down on him, the gaze fixed on him—none of it held desire. If anything, it was closer to malice.
“Nothing else matters. Just keep Dohyuk safe.”
Her voice was gentle, but the pressure was undeniable.
“If you need anything, just say the word. I’ll prepare it all.”
She pretended to care for Yeon, but she didn’t even ask if his wound needed treatment.
After finishing her conversation with Yeon, Cha Seonyoo left the villa and stood at the entrance, lost in thought. She turned to the bodyguards Dohyuk had stationed there.
“Make sure the man inside never leaves. No matter what.”
The guards nodded, understanding that her orders aligned with Dohyuk’s. If Yeon suddenly changed his mind and tried to return the fee, it would be troublesome. The wound on his neck was clearly Dohyuk’s doing. She didn’t know what had irritated Dohyuk, but it was fortunate that he hadn’t killed Yeon despite drawing a knife.
They couldn’t afford to make enemies of Muryeong. Their clients were the highest echelons of society, meaning their backers were equally powerful. If they clashed with Muryeong, they risked alienating those clients as well.
She would have to remind Dohyuk again—under no circumstances could he kill anyone from Muryeong. That was one line that must never be crossed.
***
After Cha Seonyoo left, a burly man entered, carrying a plastic bag.
“Director Choi sent this.”
He placed it on the living room table and waited, as if he intended to stay until Yeon checked the contents. Yeon reluctantly approached and looked inside.
The bag contained a bowl of porridge, ointment, and bandages. When Yeon looked up at the man, he gestured toward Yeon’s neck.
“That. If you leave it, it’ll scar. Don’t ignore it just because it’s a minor wound.”
He seemed genuinely concerned. Dohyuk wouldn’t have sent this, so it must have been Director Choi—the man who always followed Dohyuk around.
“Thank you. Please pass on my gratitude.”
“Make sure you eat.”
The man emphasized it again. He was probably one of the people watching Yeon from outside. Yeon hadn’t felt hungry, but now that he thought about it, he hadn’t eaten anything in two days. No wonder he had blacked out without realizing Dohyuk had left.
He wanted to resolve everything quickly and leave, but it seemed this would be a long battle.
“I have a favor to ask…”
The man blinked at Yeon’s words.
***
At 6 p.m., Dohyuk left the office earlier than usual and arrived at the Sky Lounge Restaurant near the Kangsan Construction headquarters. When he gave his reservation name to the hostess, a staff member quickly escorted him to his table.
Even though he had arrived about five minutes early, Baek Hyeri was already seated. Her long, wavy hair was neatly tied up, and she wore a white blouse with beige dress pants. It was a modest outfit, but considering she was the sole heir to Kangsan Construction, it seemed almost plain.
“You’re here.”
Baek Hyeri stood to greet him.
“I thought I’d be the first to arrive.”
“I don’t like keeping people waiting.”
Dohyuk had already sensed this during their previous meetings for the Kangsan Construction deal, but she was different from other chaebol heirs. She didn’t flaunt her family’s prestige or look down on others. She listened attentively even to junior employees much younger than herself and showed consideration. It was clear she had been raised with proper manners, the kind Dohyuk’s mother would approve of.
It was almost laughable that a family like Kangsan Construction, known for its integrity, would consider a marriage alliance with Dragon Holdings, a company with roots in organized crime. But money ruled all. Even the upright Kangsan Construction was willing to join forces with Dragon Holdings to push through the Yeouido project.
“Do you know why people dislike being kept waiting?”
Baek Hyeri asked lightly as she took her seat. When their eyes met, she gave him a mysterious smile.
“They don’t want to be caught off guard.”
The reason was simple, and Dohyuk could relate. Even the smallest oversight could be used against you, especially in business. There was no room for even minor mistakes.
“Unfortunately, it seems Dragon Holdings—and you, Kang Dohyuk—are already at a disadvantage from the start.”
Her seemingly pleasant smile carried a hint of bitterness.
The Yeouido project had long been a goal for Kangsan Construction, but the construction industry had taken a hit two years ago when several firms went bankrupt. Kangsan Construction had also been affected, and their recent financial situation wasn’t great. That was why they had partnered with Dragon Holdings to push the Yeouido project forward. The fact that marriage talks had arisen from this deal must have been humiliating for Baek Hyeri.
“We’re just business partners.”
Dohyuk’s blunt reply made her smile fade as she studied him. After a long moment of silence, the corners of her eyes softened into a gentle curve.
“I’m actually relieved to hear you say that. I like you, Kang Dohyuk—as a business partner.”
This meeting wasn’t supposed to be a business discussion. The chairmen of both companies had arranged it as a marriage proposal, yet both of them were calmly talking about business partnerships.
Even in strategic marriages, some couples developed real affection. But Dohyuk had never felt such emotions—not even toward his mother. She was his only recognized family, and he felt a sense of responsibility toward her, but no attachment.
“I thought you were a cold, unfeeling person, but now I see that as an advantage.”
Fortunately, Baek Hyeri didn’t expect a romantic relationship with Dohyuk either. That suited him just fine. She seemed like a reasonable partner—someone who would go through with the wedding and then live her own life while maintaining their business relationship.
“Well, well! Director Kang Dohyuk! What a coincidence!”
Dohyuk turned at the familiar voice, his face hardening.
