Yoo Sinju was the son of Dowon Group — one of the two titans of South Korea’s entertainment industry, standing shoulder to shoulder with Baekil Group. Though he was an illegitimate child with no ties to succession whatsoever, that alone was more than enough to carry significant weight in this industry. On top of that, he had hit his career peak and swept multiple Best Actor awards at film festival after film festival, making him the actor with the highest perceived popularity among the public.
He was the face of roughly fifteen or so advertisements, and on top of that, he held an ambassadorship for the most coveted luxury brand. Recently, a drama that aired on a globally renowned OTT platform had been a massive success — topping the charts in every country — and on top of the enormous domestic buzz, offers were pouring in from overseas as well.
He had been riding high like that, and yet, people in the industry always said the same thing about him. That he was someone who would crash and burn one day.
It wasn’t because of his repeatedly controversial personality. The filthy way he played around wasn’t really the problem either. People who put on a face were nothing new — two-faced behavior was hardly surprising anymore. The problem was his attitude. His attitude toward acting. He had extraordinary talent that had carried him this far, and when he was a rookie, his sense of purpose had been unwavering — he’d approached everything with seriousness. But now, a screw had come loose somewhere. No drive. No interest. He hated filming, found it a nuisance, and was utterly listless about everything. Those who knew him were anxious, worried he might announce his retirement any day now.
Even so, Yoo Sinju was at the top. He wasn’t even thirty yet, but reaching the industry’s peak was no easy feat. Sweeping film festival awards at a young age was, of course, supposed to be impossible. Yet Yoo Sinju had done it — and even with dirty rumors swirling around him, Yoo Sinju was still someone people respected. And to think there was a person dragging that very Yoo Sinju around like a dog — limbs scraping and slamming against the floor, getting banged up and bruised as he was hauled along. If anyone from Yoo Sinju’s company found out, they’d be horrified. Did they have any idea what that man was worth?
“H-, hey! What do you think you’re doing!”
The man shouted in a panic, but Moon Heesung kept completely silent and headed toward the place he’d spotted with his eyes. Moon Heesung threw open every door he saw with a bang. There were people rolling around naked inside those rooms too, but it didn’t matter.
“You son of a—……”
Yoo Sinju, thrashing around with his collar grabbed, cursed through gritted teeth as his body, having been slammed against things here and there, ached. His airway choked by the forceful grip on his collar, he grabbed Moon Heesung’s arm and twisted his face in fury.
“Which piece of shit——”
But the drugs in his system left him unable to shake the hand off or even finish his sentence, and Moon Heesung’s jaw twitched at the sight. A sudden flash of memory — the sharp, clear-eyed boy he had been as a child — overlaid itself on the image before him, and without a moment’s hesitation, Moon Heesung grabbed the back of Yoo Sinju’s head and shoved his face into the sink.
“Ugh—!”
Then he turned the cold water on full blast and let it pour straight onto his face.
“Pfgh—! Ah—!”
Cold water came gushing down, rushing straight into Yoo Sinju’s eyes and nose. The sheer physical shock of it cut off his breath, and Yoo Sinju began to thrash. At nearly 190 centimeters, he was the largest person in the room — but he couldn’t move an inch within Moon Heesung’s grip.
Everyone watching stood frozen in place. Yoo Sinju was being waterboarded. They were witnessing it with their own eyes, right in front of them, and yet it didn’t feel real at all.
Moon Heesung filled the sink to the brim, then shoved Yoo Sinju’s face straight into the water. Yoo Sinju writhed for his life, raking his nails against the arm that held him — but Moon Heesung didn’t budge. It was only when Yoo Sinju was on the verge of losing consciousness that Moon Heesung finally pulled his face back out.
“Puhah—! Kgh……, ugh——!”
Yoo Sinju, who had been hanging limp like a corpse, began to twitch and blink his eyes open — and the moment he did, Moon Heesung shoved his face back into the sink again.
“Shi—, you fu—! Kgh—!”
“S-, stop it! Are you insane?! Do you even know who that person——”
“Yoo Sinju.”
Moon Heesung cut Seo Jaeha off with a brief, flat answer. Then he added, turning toward Seo Jaeha who had been trying to stop him.
“Yoo Sinju, strung out on drugs like an idiot.”
“…….”
“Am I wrong?”
The blunt, undeniable question left Seo Jaeha speechless again. And then he met the man’s gaze across the space between them. That ink-black gaze — close to an abyss — made the man flinch and step back. And in that instant, he understood instinctively.
That the man standing before him did not operate by common sense.
**
In the end, Director Cha had given him one chance. In name it was a test, but it was as good as an opportunity. And to someone with a prior record, no less. He’d been biting his nails with anxiety after entrusting the task, but it had been he himself who had called that ex-convict in. It had been instinct.
[Cheongdam-dong, Le El, Unit 1001.]
The mission Director Cha had given was a single one. To take Yoo Sinju, who was there, and bring him back to his home. Three bodyguards had been assigned as backup. In return, Moon Heesung had attached one condition.
It doesn’t matter how many people you assign.
He had added, matter-of-factly.
Just watch. Whatever method I use.
…….
Otherwise, I have no intention of doing this either.
Director Cha dragged his tongue slowly across his dry lips and deliberated for a moment — but soon nodded. He knew it was a gamble, and he knew everyone involved would oppose it, but for some reason, Director Cha wanted to turn a blind eye and let it play out. He even felt curious. About that man’s confidence.
He told the bodyguards to simply observe, then Director Cha checked the time. The agreed-upon window, excluding travel time, was one hour. Director Cha headed straight to Yoo Sinju’s home. And twenty minutes before the agreed time.
“Ha……”
Director Cha let out a dumbfounded breath at the sight before him.
Moon Heesung had arrived far ahead of schedule — with an unconscious Yoo Sinju slung over his shoulder. For whatever reason, Yoo Sinju was completely soaked, and the bodyguards who had followed behind, veteran as they were, looked somehow unsettled, unable to stand still.
“What happened to him?”
Director Cha asked, bewildered, and Moon Heesung replied in his characteristically flat tone.
“He passed out.”
“Well, I can see that… but why is he this wet? And why did he pass out to begin with. Did you use physical force?”
Director Cha pressed, eyes cutting over toward the bodyguards — who looked away with awkward expressions.
“I didn’t throw any punches.”
“……Which means you did do something else.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“He couldn’t get his head straight, so I helped him get his head straight.”
“And how exactly did you——”
“Shoved his face in water.”
“……Excuse me?”
“I told you.”
“…….”
“I want to make this bastard into a proper person.”
“…….”
“I can’t stand seeing him strung out on drugs like a fool.”
Director Cha couldn’t find words for a long moment. That much, Director Cha shared. Personality controversies, mental health controversies — none of that bothered him — but this drug problem was the one thing that had been giving Director Cha a headache. Once drugs got involved, there was no answer. Once someone fell into drugs, there was still no answer. When Yoo Sinju was high, Director Cha couldn’t handle him at all. Those wild gatherings that were supposedly discreet but could blow up at any moment — Director Cha was thoroughly sick of them. It seemed he and Moon Heesung were well-matched on that front, too.
“Let me take him, I’ll carry him——”
“No.”
“…….”
“I’ll do it.”
“…….”
“If I pass this test, he’ll be my responsibility anyway.”
“…….”
“I’ll bathe him, change his clothes, and put him to bed properly.”
He was precise. Attending to his every need from start to finish, above all else prioritizing Yoo Sinju’s safety. And knowing what mattered most to Yoo Sinju, knowing what was most dangerous right now.
Director Cha realized, in more ways than one, that he and Moon Heesung were well-matched. It wasn’t a hundred percent trust just yet — but of this much he was certain. That man didn’t want money or Yoo Sinju’s downfall, nor was he hiding some agenda Director Cha didn’t know about. His purpose seemed frighteningly clear. He didn’t know the reason behind it — but regardless, this was the first time anyone had ever brought Yoo Sinju back within the time limit. And on top of that, when those gatherings happened, even Director Cha had never been able to intervene.
“Three months.”
Director Cha opened his mouth after deliberating.
“I’ll give you three months for now.”
“…….”
“Please understand that we can’t unconditionally trust Moon Heesung just yet.”
“I understand.”
“Three months. We’ll observe for three months first, and formal hiring will be discussed after that.”
“……That’s more than enough.”
“We will pay you.”
“…….”
“I know you said it wasn’t necessary, but this is only right. Compensation for labor is a given. There are risks involved for Moon Heesung, of course — I’ll think about how to handle penalties for those risks in due time. But needless to say, if there’s even the slightest threat to Sinju’s safety, or if anything suspicious comes up, the probationary period ends on the spot — I trust you already know that.”
“Yes. Understood.”
Moon Heesung replied with a respectful yet unbothered tone, and immediately followed it up.
“Then I can start right away?”
That unhesitating confidence. Director Cha let out another helpless laugh and nodded. His feelings in that moment came down to one thing.
To hell with it.
The Representative would probably dock his pay for a year if he found out. But the results of this test had been far too satisfying. Who else would dare sling Yoo Sinju over their shoulder and carry him in like that? Director Cha felt it once again — his eye for people was never wrong.
