Chapter 86: Just Fate
It contained all the money Yeon had earned from his clients. On the evening when Chairman Kang Mansik had come to visit, asking him to betray Kang Dohyuk and follow him instead, Muyeong had distributed similar bank accounts to all the other shamans of Muryeong and sent them away.
“I never expected this kind of gesture, so it feels strange.”
The woman who received the bank account frowned. Muyeong smiled feebly. They had known each other for quite a long time, but they were never on good terms. Rather, whenever she met Muyeong, she would express disgust at how he exploited shamans.
She also had abilities similar to Yeon’s. Unlike the shamans affiliated with Muryeong, her family background was unique. She freely accepted or declined requests, and she had criticized the Muryeong system that exclusively catered to the top 1% of the political and business world. She had been sharp-tongued toward Muyeong, claiming that he was merely controlling those called shamans under the pretext of protection.
But in this situation, she was the only one Muyeong could rely on. At least he could trust that she wouldn’t lead the boy down a wrong path.
“Still, you managed to act knowing an accident would happen.”
“There were people with various abilities in Muryeong.”
Sana, who had grown up like a blood sibling to Yeon, rarely had prophetic dreams foreseeing someone’s accident. Since she couldn’t control when she had these dreams, and the frequency of her precognition was inconsistent, she couldn’t be sent out for client requests. But Sana’s prophetic dreams always came true with perfect accuracy.
“Yeon might die!”
Ten days ago at dawn, before sunrise, Sana had come to Muyeong, pale with fear. She had wept bitterly, saying that Yeon’s car would crash through a guardrail, fall, and explode. After calming the distraught Sana, they had searched for the location of the accident. Finding the exact spot based only on the road signs and surrounding scenery Sana had seen in her dream wasn’t easy. It took three full days, but by bringing Sana along directly, they had managed to find the precise location.
Fortunately, Sana also knew the date and time of the accident. She said she had seen the date and time displayed on the car’s dashboard.
There was no way to stop a car racing down the road. Moreover, according to Sana, it seemed the car was already being chased by others. They couldn’t prevent the car from hitting the guardrail. They waited at the spot where the car would plunge over the guardrail, and as soon as it fell, they pulled Yeon out. Before they could take even three steps with the unconscious Yeon, the car exploded with a thunderous sound. Thanks to immediately shielding Yeon, he was unharmed, but Muyeong suffered burns on his arms and back from the explosion.
“Are you really just going to leave like this?”
She asked again.
“He’s like your own child.”
He couldn’t lie to her. Like Yeon, she too could see the threads connecting people. While she couldn’t cut or blur those threads like Yeon could, she clearly knew what color of thread represented his emotions.
“Children eventually leave their parents.”
At his calm response, she could only shrug her shoulders.
“Where will you go?”
To her question about where he would go now that Muryeong, their base, had burned down and disappeared, Muyeong simply smiled. Now that he was no longer the head of Muryeong, he planned to go wherever his feet would take him.
“He’ll be upset when he wakes up and finds out.”
Muyeong didn’t agree with her words either. Yeon understood the connections between people better than anyone else. He might have already anticipated that Muyeong would leave like this. The day Yeon left Muryeong to follow Kang Sunhyuk, Muyeong hadn’t stopped him, and that alone would have let Yeon know this day would come.
He bowed deeply to her as a sign of entrusting Yeon to her care, then turned around. Perhaps someday, by chance, they would meet again. But by then, it would be with a different connection, a different appearance, and a different heart.
Fate couldn’t be forcibly grasped, nor could one forcibly escape from it. Like flowing water, it simply moved quietly and steadily toward a predetermined destination. So Muyeong decided to surrender to the flow of fate. Whether they met again or never did—it was just fate…
***
Dohyuk’s eyes grew increasingly fierce as he flipped through the documents.
“Is this the best organization you can manage?”
He slammed the file shut with a bang and glared at the department head standing in front of him. The department head stiffened, picked up the file from Dohyuk’s desk, and said he would redo it by today.
“Will redoing it make it any better? If you lack the skill, step down. There are plenty of people who can replace you.”
The department head’s face turned ashen at the cold rebuke.
“What are you waiting for? Get out.”
With a tone that didn’t hide his irritation at all, the department head hesitantly bowed his head and left the managing director’s office.
Haah. Dohyuk sighed deeply and leaned back against his chair. Something seemed to be constantly simmering inside his chest. It would rise up to his throat and then he would barely suppress it, over and over again.
“Take it easy. You’ll lose the chairman position at this rate.”
Kang Sunhyuk, who entered without knocking, clicked his tongue after seeing Dohyuk’s state.
“Look at you. A man who used to be so impeccably dressed without a single wrinkle in his suit.”
At Sunhyuk’s comment, Dohyuk looked down at his own shirt. Wrinkles were all over it, making him look a mess. Although he had been staying at the company for several days, that wasn’t an excuse. Even during overnight work, he used to have Director Choi bring him fresh suits every day.
“The chairman election is the day after tomorrow. Pull yourself together.”
Kang Sunhyuk sat on the sofa and looked at Dohyuk. Dohyuk chuckled when he detected concern and worry in his gaze. To think the day would come when Kang Sunhyuk would worry about him—indeed, one lives and sees all sorts of things.
“As I said, I’m not interested in the chairman position. I’ve had enough headaches already. So you need to keep your wits about you. Don’t suddenly lose the chairmanship to some unexpected person.”
“I must look that messed up to you.”
Dohyuk replied in disbelief, but Sunhyuk nodded seriously.
“You’re the worst I’ve ever seen you. Unlike yourself these days.”
Unable to deny it, Dohyuk swallowed a groan in his throat. He was on edge enough that even Director Choi was concerned. He couldn’t remember the last time he had properly lain down to sleep.
“Is it because of that shaman?”
Sunhyuk asked cautiously. Dohyuk’s lips tightened instead of answering.
Almost a month had passed, but he still couldn’t find Yeon. Even hiring professionals had been useless.
“Give up now. If he hasn’t appeared after all that searching, he must be dead…”
BANG! The sound of Dohyuk’s fist hitting the desk made Sunhyuk swallow his words.
“Mind your own business. I’ll handle it myself.”
At this cold warning, Sunhyuk, who had been staring directly at Dohyuk’s face, sighed and rose from his seat.
“Don’t forget your dinner appointment with Director Baek Hyeri this evening. Kangsan Construction is still quiet for now, but if they find out you’re in this state, they might look down on you and try to position themselves above Dragon Holdings.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
“I’m sure you won’t.”
Shrugging his shoulders as if telling Dohyuk to handle it as he saw fit, Sunhyuk left the office.
Dohyuk ran a hand over his face. It seemed he did have a heart that pumped hot blood after all. Recently, his heart would throb painfully from time to time. On days when the pain was severe, even painkillers wouldn’t help, and he would groan all night.
He had once scoffed at the expression that someone was breaking his heart. But now he was experiencing it himself. Because of Yeon, his heart seemed to be malfunctioning.
Ha, why because of that guy…
He had tried to deny it, but it didn’t work. The more he tried, the more clearly he saw Yeon’s face looking at him with a clear expression, dressed in white clothes.
It felt like madness. Without being crazy, how could his mind be filled with thoughts of Yeon when mountains of company work awaited him, and above all, the executive board meeting for the chairman election was right around the corner?
He had thought of himself as someone who could maintain rationality at any moment. Whether it was an accursed connection or not, he didn’t show any emotional fluctuation or hesitation even when telling his own father, Kang Mansik, to take his own life. But that wasn’t true. When it came to matters concerning Yeon, all sorts of emotions mixed and surged, making him tired. If he could, he wanted to carve out his heart with a knife and throw it out the window.
***
The seasons had changed. The white cherry blossoms had all fallen, and people’s clothes gradually became thinner. It was now the middle of summer, when opening a window would bring a rush of hot air that made it difficult to breathe.
Dohyuk stood by the window, looking outside. From the top floor of the high-rise building, he could see all the way to the Han River. The nameplate on his desk clearly read ‘Chairman Kang Dohyuk.’ On the day of his appointment as chairman, his mother was the happiest. She said her lifelong wish had come true, hugging Dohyuk and even shedding tears.
Dohyuk himself couldn’t feel anything. When his chest pain worsened and he went to the hospital, they said it was a psychological issue. The neuropsychiatry department prescribed him sedatives. He managed to endure by taking sedatives when he felt like he might go crazy, but that didn’t mean the knife-sharp sensation subsided. He was just getting used to it. He was now becoming accustomed to the daily pain that felt like it was gnawing at his heart, and to the frequent visions of Yeon that appeared before him.
Knock, knock. After knocking, Director Choi entered.
“What is it?”
Recently, he had been avoiding calling on Director Choi unless absolutely necessary. Dealing with people itself was exhausting. He didn’t want to get entangled with anyone unless it was for business purposes.
“I have something to report.”
If it was a business report, he had already heard everything that morning. He had set specific times for business reports twice a day, morning and evening. At other times, even Director Choi wasn’t allowed to disturb Dohyuk’s solitude.
Wondering what more there could be to hear, deep wrinkles formed between Dohyuk’s eyebrows. He was ready to throw him out immediately if it was something trivial.
“I found this article by chance on the internet.”
Director Choi placed a sheet of paper in front of Dohyuk. Frowning heavily as he looked down at the paper, Dohyuk’s expression gradually hardened.
“Matching the connections between people?”
“Yes. It seems to be a fortune-telling cafe, and there’s someone named Yeon among those who read fortunes there. Someone who can see the threads of fate connecting people.”
CLANK! As Dohyuk stood up hastily, his chair was pushed back with a loud noise.
