“I didn’t plan on doing this, but you went ahead and did it anyway, didn’t you?”
Seon-woo replied in an intentionally calm voice. Though his tone sounded composed, there was a trace of disbelief laced within.
“Director, I—”
Eun-jae seemed like he wanted to protest. But the men surrounding Seon-woo cut him off before he could finish.
“What kind of secret conversations are you trying to have in a place like this?”
Only then did Eun-jae seem to realize just how many people were around them. He immediately shut his mouth. Soon after, he began pacing nervously in place, clearly waiting for something—or someone.
Now that he thought about it, the intimidating men circling around them were all staring fixedly in the same direction. Likely toward the entrance. Seon-woo followed their gaze, sensing movement from somewhere nearby. And just as his eyes landed on the door, it creaked open with a drawn-out screech. The sound echoed through the wide, worn-out room, and a sliver of light cut through the darkness.
Murmurs and the sound of steady footsteps filled the air. The noise grew louder and closer. Narrowing his eyes, Seon-woo stared intently at the face of the approaching figure. What had once been a dim and indistinct silhouette soon came into sharp focus as the distance between them shrank. It didn’t take long to recognize who it was.
“You’re…”
He realized his voice had slipped out in a dazed mutter. The man standing before him was dabbing his face with a handkerchief clutched in one hand. Though he appeared tense, Seon-woo knew better—it wasn’t that he was particularly on edge now. It was just one of his usual habits.
It was Gwak Su-won, Gwanggong’s cousin.
For a moment, Seon-woo nearly blurted out, Why…? with the same stunned expression he’d worn a second ago. He barely managed to rein himself in, avoiding that pathetic display—but his confusion remained.
Eun-jae, who had been standing a short distance in front of Seon-woo, gave a slight nod in greeting toward the newcomer. And in that instant, Seon-woo recalled something Gwak Sang-hwa had once said: that ever since Su-won’s father had passed away, he’d harbored deep suspicions about Gwak Sang-gyeong—Seon-woo’s own father.
Could that be why he’d gone as far as to orchestrate Seon-woo’s kidnapping?
Su-won stopped the moment he came within clear view. He made no move to get any closer. Instead, he kept a deliberate distance and opened his mouth.
“Damn… you actually brought him.”
Even at a glance, the words sounded absurd. Anyone could see that Su-won himself was the one behind this whole setup. Eun-jae apparently thought so too, because he fired back with a sharp voice.
“You’re the one who told us to bring him.”
But Su-won didn’t seem remotely fazed by Eun-jae’s pointed tone. It wasn’t so much that he was naturally indifferent—rather, it felt like his mind was too occupied with something else to care about Eun-jae’s attitude.
“Yeah… I did. But I can’t believe it actually worked.”
He stared at the bound Seon-woo with a look of genuine fascination, then called out to him in an oddly unfamiliar tone.
“Gwak Seon-woo.”
“Seon-woo.”
As expected, you really couldn’t judge people by appearances. The cousin who always seemed timid, who couldn’t hide his discomfort, who struggled to manage his nerves—was now the one who had kidnapped and locked him up. Seon-woo asked, irritated.
“Hyungnim, what the hell is going on here?”
Gwak Su-won glanced around with an expression caught somewhere between awkwardness and mild embarrassment, then shrugged. A dismissive gesture, as if to say, Isn’t it obvious? Seon-woo narrowed his eyes and carefully spoke.
“If the Chairman finds out about this…”
But he trailed off before finishing. He had suddenly remembered that the Chairman was currently unconscious. Su-won let out a hollow laugh, as if the whole thing was absurd.
“And who do you think put the Chairman in that state? Seon-woo, you shouldn’t be saying that.”
His tone was like that of a parent gently scolding a childish younger sibling. Seon-woo frowned instinctively. He’d been worried something like this might happen ever since Gwak Sang-hwa started suspecting him. But he hadn’t expected anyone else to hold the same suspicions—and certainly not for his prediction to hit the mark this precisely.
“You’ve got that look like you don’t understand. Why?”
Su-won asked, and Seon-woo responded with a sigh.
“Because I really don’t understand any of this.”
How had things escalated to this point? The Chairman had been perfectly fine when Seon-woo and Seung-hyeon left the hospital room. There hadn’t been any opportunity for him to ingest something or be harmed during their visit. There was no conceivable way. The injustice of it all welled up inside him—but Su-won didn’t give a straight answer. Instead, he deflected.
“Honestly, I didn’t plan on involving you either. You and your father don’t even get along that well…”
He trailed off and let out a limp chuckle. As if he’d said something hilarious, even though it was anything but. Seeing Seon-woo’s expression twist with displeasure, Su-won kept going.
“You two weren’t exactly close. Hell, your dad treated you worse than a dog.”
So it wasn’t just emotional distance. It was that bad? Seon-woo tilted his head and frowned, purely out of curiosity and a strange kind of fascination. But Su-won seemed to misread his reaction, thinking he’d hurt Seon-woo’s feelings with that comment.
“But this is unexpected, Seon-woo. I thought you valued Uncle Sang-woo more than the father who treated you like dirt. So… why did you do it?”
Another accusation that he’d had something to do with his uncle’s death? Seon-woo had no reason to feel guilty, so he squared his shoulders and replied firmly.
“What exactly are you accusing me of?”
“If you hadn’t helped your father pull his little stunt, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“I never helped my father with anything.”
He answered with absolute conviction, but Su-won clearly had no intention of believing him—no matter what he said.
“Sure, maybe you weren’t involved in the past. But this time? You framed Uncle Sang-cheol and brought down the Chairman.”
Both accusations felt completely unjust to Seon-woo. The matter with the Chairman went without saying, but the allegations about Gwak Sang-cheol were equally baseless. Seon-woo hadn’t pinned anything on him—in fact, the man had been arrested for charges far lighter than what he actually deserved.
“If there hadn’t been clear evidence showing that he orchestrated Uncle Sang-woo’s murder, I wouldn’t have gone that far. Would you like to see it?”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. Though thanks to you having me dragged here, I can’t exactly show you right now.”
“Ah… I didn’t know that. Hm…”
Su-won began muttering to himself under his breath, occasionally dabbing the sweat from his face with the handkerchief in his hand. Still, he didn’t seem particularly suspicious of Sang-cheol’s role in the murder.
“I mean… yeah, he didn’t seem like the type to do that kind of thing alone. But if he was following someone’s orders… sure, I guess that tracks.”
…The problem was, that didn’t mean his attitude toward Seon-woo had changed in the slightest.
“So it wasn’t about framing him. You were trying to cut him loose. Sever ties with Uncle Sang-cheol and make a clean getaway for yourselves.”
Seon-woo didn’t even bother denying it—he knew the man wouldn’t believe him anyway. He just sighed and gave a slight shrug. Even from where he sat, he could clearly see Su-won’s eyelids twitch in agitation. Then the man cleared his throat and went on.
“Whether you meant to help your father or not, it turned out that way, didn’t it? Think about it. That move you made to secure your own position… it ended up protecting and covering for your father.”
If what he was saying was true, then this faceless “father” of Gwanggong owed Seon-woo quite a lot. Once he got out of here, maybe he should contact the man and collect a proper thank-you.
“You’ve just become too much of a nuisance. But if you stay quiet, you’ll get to watch your father crash and burn. So let’s just stay quiet until that happens, alright?”
Seon-woo let out another sigh and asked,
“Why are you so convinced my father’s behind all this?”
“Who else could it be?”
Su-won responded as if the question were completely obvious. And Seon-woo didn’t have a rebuttal. He didn’t know who else it could be—that was the most frustrating part.
“I’m asking if you have solid proof.”
He had no desire to protect a man who hardly qualified as a father. More than anything, he was genuinely curious whether Su-won had uncovered something he himself had missed.
“You really think a guy like him—as calculating, cautious, and downright malicious as he is—would leave behind any incriminating evidence?”
Su-won’s voice grew more urgent as he continued, practically radiating frustration.
“Seon-woo. Don’t tell me you’re still clinging to some childish desire to believe in your father. That bastard didn’t even show his face the day your mother collapsed.”
Seon-woo’s eyebrows lifted slightly, half from surprise. So it was true—Gwanggong’s father really had no affection or concern for his family. But even so… a lack of affection didn’t necessarily mean he was capable of killing them. Seon-woo couldn’t be sure the two ideas were interchangeable.
Gwak Su-won, who had seemed like he was trying to convince Seon-woo up to this point, suddenly shook his head in resignation. It looked like he was ready to change the subject.
“You really take after your father—so guarded, so hard to fool or kill… I was worried about how we’d even manage to get you here. But it turns out Mr. Eun-jae here was a lot more helpful than I expected.”
At that, both Su-won and Seon-woo turned their eyes toward Seo Eun-jae. Su-won muttered as if making a passing remark.
“It was the right move to follow Uncle-in-law’s advice and make contact.”
“What? What did you just say…?”
Seon-woo asked reflexively. But before he could get a response, Eun-jae spoke up. Even with all eyes suddenly on him, his voice remained steady and composed. He was speaking to Su-won.
“You promised you’d give me time—remember?”
