“Is that debt collector really the one trying to buy up the land?”
“Huh? Oh… yeah. A guy with glasses came with him once… I think…”
“Who was he? Someone from a construction company?”
Da Haram’s wide eyes blinked rapidly as he focused on Tae-yi, struggling to keep up with the rapid-fire questions.
“I’m not sure… He never said anything about a construction company… The debt collector just said it was a secret, something he was only telling me.”
Haram had been so focused on driving them away every time that he hadn’t even bothered to open the thick envelope they’d handed him. He’d just shoved it back at them without reading. He had no intention of selling his land in the first place.
“Why would a debt collector even have that kind of information?”
It’s not like the guy openly admitted to being a speculator, so why tell Haram about some potential resort? This wasn’t something a small-time loan shark would just know. He must’ve had someone backing him.
“I really don’t know…”
Haram’s vague answer only deepened Tae-yi’s suspicion.
This wasn’t just about some local fried chicken joint opening up—it was a resort. And a debt collector was out here trying to buy up land?
“What about the other villagers? It’s not just your land they’re after, right?”
Tae-yi’s barrage of questions continued, and Haram, still wide-eyed and focused, answered diligently.
“None of the elders have said anything. I haven’t been to the community center in a while either… I don’t know if I should believe what that guy says…”
Now that he’d said it out loud, it felt off. Normally, even the tiniest incident would have the whole village—only a few households—gathering to talk. Usually, the landowner grandma or the village head would take the lead.
“Ah… maybe that’s why the landowner grandma came by earlier.”
Realizing it late, Haram nodded to himself.
“That lady from earlier? She’s the landowner?”
“Yeah. Before you reach the village entrance, there’s a stretch of fields along the roadside—that’s all hers. She owns land inside the village too.”
She couldn’t manage it all herself, so she rented out parcels to villagers for farming. Haram’s land was big, but it wasn’t even a quarter of what she had. And if someone like him was being pressured to sell, then she definitely was too.
Which means… maybe the talk about the resort is real.
“I should visit her soon.”
As Haram muttered quietly, slipping on his work gloves, Tae-yi stood still, his eyes now on the vast stretch of peanut fields.
Changi Construction.
A company that had grown from deep gangster roots, now a reputable name in the industry. Tae-yi had served as a director there for years. A resort? Out in a place like this? No way it was just about this village. It had to be a large-scale regional development. And if it were a legit project of that scale, someone like Director Kang Tae-yi would have known about it.
Something was seriously off.
This was the kind of thing that would make headlines under the banner of “regional revitalization.” Yet the villagers had heard nothing, and instead, some sketchy thug was snooping around, trying to buy land in secret.
It reeked of the old-school thug tactics he’d seen way too often.
“Tae-yi…?”
Tae-yi’s expression had shifted—serious and icy. Haram wasn’t used to seeing him like this. He always smiled, so without it, he looked like a completely different person. Noticing the change, Haram cautiously called out again.
Tae-yi finally met his eyes.
“That thug—or debt collector, whatever—when’s he coming back?”
“Probably within a week? He’s been showing up once or twice a week regularly.”
Haram wanted to ask why Tae-yi was asking, but before he could, Tae-yi simply nodded, slipped on his gloves, and stepped into the field. Then he asked another question.
“Hey, Squirrel. You got a phone?”
“Of course I do!”
He didn’t use it much since he had no one to really talk to, but still—it was a smartphone. Haram nodded emphatically, and Tae-yi chuckled at the reaction.
“Let me borrow it later.”
Haram’s tail and ears drooped instantly. Hesitant, he asked in a quiet voice,
“…Are you leaving?”
Tae-yi didn’t answer right away, silently watching Haram’s trembling eyes. Even seeing that hint of disappointment, he couldn’t bring himself to answer immediately.
It had been the first time in his life he’d truly rested—really done nothing—for a whole week. But it was time to go back. He needed to prepare to screw over Kang Tae-jin, and the pile of work waiting for him was enormous.
And now, this whole resort business had piqued his interest.
Still looking hesitant, Tae-yi finally gave Haram the answer he’d been waiting for, his voice calm but resolute.
“Yeah. Time for me to go.”
At that short reply, Haram slowly nodded, then looked up at him and asked,
“So you’ve made up your mind? Are you… okay with it?”
Made up his mind? Oh—right. That was the excuse he’d used. He’d told Haram he needed time to think. Honestly, he’d lied so much he couldn’t even remember half of what he’d said. Why was it that only in front of Da Haram did he feel the need to hide the truth?
“Yeah. I’ve decided.”
“Ah… okay. I’ll give you my phone when we get home.”
As soon as Haram finished speaking, he turned and walked toward the far corner of the field. His slumped shoulders made him look exactly like a sulky squirrel.
Something about that little back view… it felt like it would stick with him.
Even so, Tae-yi couldn’t bring himself to make the decision to take Haram with him.
Da Haram had fascinated him from the start. And still did. But now wasn’t the time to explore whether that interest had become something more.
He’d barely made it back alive. If he took Haram with him now, it would be the same as presenting a weakness to Kang Tae-jin on a silver platter. Keeping Da Haram by his side was a risk.
“Tae-yi! Should we eat the watermelon tomorrow? I don’t think it’s ripe yet!”
Waving a gloved hand from afar, Haram called out in a cheerful voice, his sulky tone from earlier nowhere to be found.
Yeah… Da Haram belongs here, not beside me.
***
Beyond the massive windows stretched a forest of towering skyscrapers. Though the view was completely walled off by concrete and glass, it didn’t feel the least bit suffocating. In fact, he didn’t want to leave this space at all.
“What about Kang Tae-yi?”
“We’ve expanded the search radius to the nearby mountain ranges. We should find him soon.”
Assistant Manager Kim, who had been repeating that same line for a week straight, winced under Kang Tae-jin’s glare. None of them—none—could do their damn jobs. The field manager who failed to kill Kang Tae-yi cleanly, this pathetic excuse of a secretary in front of him now…
Every executive meeting, he had to keep making excuses for why Kang Tae-yi hadn’t shown up—on vacation, he’d say. That excuse had worn thin. Whether it was a corpse or whatever was left of him, he had to be found.
“What about that village? Still nothing?”
Kim hesitated under Tae-jin’s sharp gaze, then cautiously replied,
“There are two landowners who own large portions in that village. If they agree to sell, the rest should follow—”
CRACK!
Tae-jin hurled his tablet at the marble floor. It clattered loudly as it hit.
“Don’t raise the land prices. Buy them cheap. Quietly. No rumors.”
Eyes tightly shut, Kim slowly nodded.
“I’ll go down there tomorrow.”
Tae-jin’s chest rose and fell in heavy bursts. Even with all his failures, even as the family’s “incompetent eldest son,” Kang Tae-jin’s title as the Alpha heir of a prestigious family still carried weight.
He raked a hand through his hair and growled,
“We’re out of time. The old man’s practically on his deathbed.”
He’d already run multiple businesses into the ground. Some had collapsed halfway through. This time, the goal was maximum profit from minimal investment. That meant no dragging things out, no negotiating with holdouts, no time for public backlash.
That backwoods village? The land was decent, sure. But more importantly, aside from one person, everyone there was elderly—and there weren’t many of them to begin with. A resort could go up without any concerns about jobs or welfare. It was the perfect place to steamroll over the locals.
He’d send a few trusted thugs to quietly scoop up the land for cheap. Whatever money they saved from haggling could be funneled discreetly into greasing the palms of those screaming about “regional revitalization” or “community impact.”
If his bedridden father died before the project was complete, that was fine. As long as Tae-jin could show smooth progress and investor interest, the old man would name him as the next chairman.
Sure, killing Kang Tae-yi would’ve secured his spot as the sole heir—but Tae-yi wasn’t that easy. That bastard could be hiding anywhere right now, crafting some sadistic revenge plan like a cornered animal.
Tae-jin exhaled a long sigh, then muttered under his breath,
“Where the hell is that son of a bitch hiding…”
***
“Squeak? Chirr?”
Did you see that?
A soft squeak came from the high branches above. Tae-yi looked up and raised a hand in greeting toward a tiny Sky Squirrel waving both front paws in the air. He wanted to wave with both hands, too, but one was occupied holding the training suit Haram had taken off.
To cheer up Haram, who’d been moping around ever since the field, Tae-yi had started spouting random nonsense—like asking if Sky Squirrels could really fly.
Haram, determined to prove it, had dragged him behind the hanok and up the small mountain.
Since then, Da Haram had been soaring through the air nonstop.
