The chairman didn’t respond. He probably needed some time alone, too. While the chairman was now burdened with a serious dilemma, Seon-woo felt a sense of relief, having overcome a major obstacle himself.
After briefly studying the chairman’s expression, Seon-woo turned away calmly. He shot a glance at Seung-hyeon, silently telling him to follow. That’s when a small scratch on Seung-hyeon’s face caught his eye—it looked like it had happened when the chairman threw something earlier.
Seon-woo’s face twisted in a grimace, unsure whether it was out of embarrassment or frustration. His anger wasn’t at Seung-hyeon, but at the chairman for causing that wound. However, Seung-hyeon didn’t seem to take it that way. His expression read, “Why is he mad again?” Trying not to react, Seon-woo turned his head and started walking first. He could feel Seung-hyeon hastily trailing behind him.
Just like when he entered, he flung the door open with force. A startled voice rang out from just outside.
“Oh my!”
It was an unexpected presence. A typical Gwanggong might have sensed someone nearby and opened the door more cautiously, but Seon-woo had been too preoccupied to notice. As he paused, the person standing at the door quickly stepped aside. Only then did Seon-woo get a clear look at their face behind the open door.
Though only one of them spoke, there were actually two people standing there—a middle-aged man and woman. Seon-woo furrowed his brow, trying to recall where he’d seen those faces before. It was at a family dinner, he was certain…
“Uncle?”
The voice came from behind—Seung-hyeon. Thanks to him, Seon-woo was able to remember who they were. They’d only appeared briefly during introductions, and he hadn’t seen them since, so they’d nearly slipped from his memory completely. It was Gwak Sang-hwa, the chairman’s daughter, and her husband.
“Aunt, you’re here too.”
Seung-hyeon continued, spotting Gwak Sang-hwa behind the door. She slightly raised her head and looked in their direction. Her sharp features resembled the chairman’s in a way—perhaps that signature Gwanggong edge.
“Am I not allowed to come here?”
Although she was replying to Seung-hyeon, her gaze somehow stayed fixed on Seon-woo. He looked right back at her in silence. He hadn’t meant to ignore her; he’d simply missed the right moment to greet her.
Had it been Gwak Sang-cheol instead, he would’ve exploded, accusing Seon-woo of being disrespectful. But Gwak Sang-hwa merely stood tall, staring at him without saying another word. Her posture was refined, strikingly elegant in contrast to the pointed remark she’d just made.
Her husband—whose name Seon-woo couldn’t quite remember—stepped in to smooth over the awkward mood. Come to think of it, he was the one who had calmed things down the last time tensions rose. Seon-woo vaguely recalled the phrase “good at handling people” being included in his character introduction. Judging by the calm, composed smile on his face, that reputation seemed well-earned.
“Come now, don’t be like that, honey.”
Do they usually use formal speech with each other? Seon-woo observed them with feigned disinterest. Gwak Sang-hwa, perhaps never intending to start a fight in the first place, said nothing more and turned her head away. Her husband let out a soft chuckle and turned to face Seon-woo.
“The chairman was really angry, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Gwak Seon-woo replied in a voice that was far from enthusiastic. Anyone could have picked up on his reluctance, but Gwak Sang-hwa’s husband showed no change in expression. He continued speaking as if nothing was amiss.
“Are we the first ones to arrive? I heard Su-won will be here soon, too.”
It seemed he was referring to Seon-woo’s older cousin. As expected, it looked like the chairman’s hospital room would soon be filled with extended family. Seon-woo nodded, maintaining a polite exterior while trying to recall the cousin’s name in his head.
“By the way, has there been any word from your father?”
The sudden question made Seon-woo blink blankly. He didn’t understand what was being asked at first. It took a brief silence before he realized the man was referring to his father—more precisely, the Gwanggong’s father.
He hadn’t received any calls, not even a passing mention. His father was so absent that it was hard to even believe the man existed. He’d never really given it much thought. Seon-woo slowly shook his head.
“He hasn’t said anything.”
Come to think of it, he’d heard that his father went abroad often and rarely came back, that he never showed up to family gatherings. He even remembered the chairman once calling him a cold-hearted man. Upon hearing Seon-woo’s answer, his uncle stroked his chin and muttered:
“Didn’t come last time either… Seems like he really has no intention of showing up…”
His voice was heavy with concern. Something about the way he said it made Seon-woo feel as if he were finally grasping at a thread. A strong urge bubbled up in him—to ask about what kind of person his father really was. But before he could speak, Gwak Sang-hwa, standing beside them, beat him to it.
“Enough with the pointless talk. Let’s go in.”
Her sharp tone seemed to sting her husband, who let out an awkward chuckle. His smile seemed like a silent apology, but Seon-woo couldn’t bring himself to respond in kind. Given the Gwanggong’s notoriously foul temper, it probably didn’t seem suspicious to them anyway. Still…
Gwak Seon-woo remained frozen in place, even as the couple entered the hospital room. It was the sudden surge of doubt that had him stuck there.
***
His gaze shifted to the scratch on Seung-hyeon’s face, watching it carefully. In his hand, he held a bottle of red antiseptic. Sitting quietly and letting Seon-woo tend to his face, Seung-hyeon finally spoke after a long silence.
“Director…?”
His voice was cautious, hesitant. Seon-woo responded curtly.
“Why?”
“How… much longer are you going to hold on to me like this?”
Seung-hyeon’s tone was gentle, but laced with a subtle discomfort. Seon-woo was about to snap back—Can’t even tolerate this much?—but then realized just how long he’d been holding his face. He’d been too caught up in his thoughts to move efficiently.
First, he was pissed off about the wound on Gwak Seung-hyeon’s face.
Second, his mind was a mess from thinking about his father.
Without a word, Seon-woo opened the cap of the antiseptic. He reached out and roughly dabbed the solution over Gwak Seung-hyeon’s wound. It wasn’t a deep cut, but anyone could tell that scrubbing it like this would sting. Sure enough, Seung-hyeon exaggerated his reaction with an over-the-top, “Ow, ow, ow!”
Seon-woo finally stopped venting his frustration and spoke up.
“What the hell were you trying to prove, charging in there like that? If you’d just gone in with me from the start, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”
It wasn’t something he could say with absolute certainty, but he had to say it anyway. At those words, Seung-hyeon gave a familiar smile, as he often did, though it quickly turned into another grimace as the pain flared up again. “Ow,” he hissed, his expression straightening—but his eyes still held that smile.
“Sorry.”
He could’ve said all kinds of things—like how he would’ve gotten hurt either way, or how Seon-woo might’ve ended up the one injured instead. But that was all he said. And somehow, it felt like there was no point in staying mad any longer. Letting out a sigh, Seon-woo sat down across from him.
“What’s bothering you so much?”
Seung-hyeon asked the question casually. Given Seon-woo’s strange behavior, it was a natural thing to ask—but it still meant Seon-woo’s inner turmoil had shown more than he realized. He hesitated for a moment, lightly tapping the desk with his fingers. Seung-hyeon didn’t rush him, waiting with patient silence.
“By any chance.”
“Yes.”
The moment Seon-woo opened his mouth, the response came instantly. Despite the dread twisting in his gut, he asked the question.
“What kind of person is my father?”
Seung-hyeon narrowed his eyes slightly, staring at Seon-woo. The playful glint in his face quickly vanished, replaced by a rare, serious expression.
“I think I know what you’re thinking.”
He probably wasn’t the only one who had wondered. If Seon-woo’s father—who was also Gwak Sang-cheol’s older brother—was involved, it would explain how Sang-cheol had been able to operate so carelessly. And the constant mentions of his absence, the lack of affection, the fact that no one had seen his face—it all made him even more suspicious. Seung-hyeon chose his words carefully.
“Honestly, I can’t say for sure. I’ve barely met him. Maybe once or twice… if that.”
The uncertainty made it even worse. Seon-woo trusted Seung-hyeon’s judgment, which only heightened his anxiety. He pressed further, asking if he’d at least gotten an impression.
“He’s scary.”
The answer was simple, but it didn’t feel like a joke. Seon-woo asked hesitantly, unsure what he wanted to hear.
“Is he anything like me?”
“There’s a resemblance… but he’s even more impenetrable. No warmth, no attachments.”
Worse than a Gwanggong? Seon-woo must’ve made a face without realizing, because Seung-hyeon added something else—like he didn’t want to leave it at that, as if still uncertain himself.
“That may be true, but I still can’t say for sure if he’d do something like that. Like I said, I’ve barely seen the guy.”
Seon-woo fell into a deep silence, lost in thought. Even though Seung-hyeon answered as if it didn’t matter much, his expression had grown noticeably somber.
A long, heavy silence settled between them.
