94.
The attendant, knowing Choi Jae-won’s vicious temperament well, hurriedly shook his head. He shouldn’t scatter unintended hardship and adversity into someone’s life due to a possible misunderstanding.
“There’s no one. Not only is there no one he’s dating, but it’s also difficult to find anyone with whom he maintains proper interactions.”
“Oh, how sad. He must have been very lonely all by himself.”
For someone expressing sympathy, his expression seemed excessively pleased, but the attendant maintained a professional attitude without any change in his facial expression. Is there anyone who doesn’t know how easily Choi Jae-won can leap over common sense when it comes to matters involving Ryu Ho-yeon? At least not among the management team members who serve the Choi family most closely.
Even the Vice Chairman—no, now Chairman—Choi Jae-won’s father had long given up trying to dissuade him, so what more could be said?
Until around the time Choi Jae-won entered university, his family had complacently thought that he was finally managing to live somewhat like a normal person, and that by graduation at the latest, he would be able to bury the departed in his heart and live well. But now, none of them offered ineffective dissuasion or harsh words. One might say they were just grateful that he was somehow still alive.
“Anyway, that’s good. Let me read the rest directly. You may leave now.”
Choi Jae-won, looking quite pleased, hummed a tune while flipping through the report. Such a gentle dismissal, neither with an expression like he’d bitten into something sour, nor in a savage voice as if he wanted to tear someone apart—how many years had it been since such pleasantness?
But something strange was happening. The attendant, who would usually move immediately without disobeying even the smallest of Choi Jae-won’s instructions, was sluggish today. Despite being told to leave, he lingered, looking at Choi Jae-won without turning around. He wouldn’t presumptuously interfere at this point, so he must have something else to say.
“What is it?”
Choi Jae-won asked directly without even shifting his gaze from the report he was still scanning. His voice, with its edge laid flat, was proof that his mood was soaring.
The attendant, under his seemingly calm expression, felt greatly relieved and gently opened his mouth.
“…I’ll be honest. It’s difficult to determine how far to set the reporting line.”
Only then did Choi Jae-won raise his head to look directly at the attendant with his impassive expression. Though he used him comfortably like his own hands and feet, he hadn’t expected much since, strictly speaking, the man was more his grandfather’s or father’s person rather than his own, but he had quite good intuition.
“Hmm…”
As Choi Jae-won put down the report he was holding and let out an ambiguous exclamation that could be interpreted as either satisfaction or lamentation, tension finally began to spread across the attendant’s face.
It wouldn’t matter if he heard it since he wouldn’t understand what it meant anyway, but Choi Jae-won was concerned that it might wake the soundly sleeping Ryu Ho-yeon. So, only after glancing sideways at Ryu Ho-yeon did he start with, “Mr. Bae Sang-min.”
“…!!”
As if he hadn’t expected Choi Jae-won to remember his name, the former martial artist’s broad shoulders jumped significantly. Regardless, Choi Jae-won continued speaking without caring at all about the startled man’s feelings.
“You may speak frankly to my father. You’ll need his help a lot in the future. But that’s as far as it goes. Make this point clear when reporting to my father.”
“Then what about the Senior Chairman…?”
“Grandfather is off-limits too. Ever since he got older, his heart has grown softer. Once Grandfather knows, it’s only a matter of time before it reaches my aunt’s ears.”
The honorary chairman, his retired grandfather, had been desperately fond of his only daughter and her son in recent years.
It seems he finally realized that while raising his son with preferential treatment due to his old-fashioned thinking, he hadn’t really respected his daughter as a person, despite loving her.
That realization naturally expanded its scope—all the way to Lee Han-seo, the precious only son of that cherished daughter.
With the determination not to enlist the eldest grandson who should inherit the family business, his grandfather had practically sold the young Lee Han-seo to the government. He felt somewhat sorry even then, but not excessively guilty.
After all, he’d have to join at twenty anyway, so what was the big deal about going in a few years early?
But isn’t the weight of five years for an old man already well past sixty vastly different from five years for a child in school uniform who hadn’t even grown to his full height?
His grandfather had finally realized the impact his coercion had on his young grandson and daughter.
Digressing a bit, but the conclusion was that if the news that Ryu Ho-yeon was alive and that he had safely met him again reached the Honorary Chairman, the secret would be exposed in an instant.
After desperately yearning for this dream since childhood, he couldn’t have ashes sprinkled on it now.
In truth, Choi Jae-won had wanted to capture and confine Ryu Ho-yeon from the beginning. So that no one else in the world could see Ryu Ho-yeon, and no one other than himself could make contact with him.
But Ryu Ho-yeon was already a bird trapped in another cage, and the national system cage in which he was confined was too strong for Choi Jae-won to break.
So Choi Jae-won chose to walk into the cage where he was confined with his own feet.
With the intention of at least being confined together if he couldn’t completely steal him away.
Even while writhing in pain after pulling out his own claws and fangs with his own hands, he was overwhelmingly happy when confined with Ryu Ho-yeon. He was blinded by incomparable relief when the plausible chains, decorated with the name “pair,” bound their limbs together.
“Yes. I understand. I’ll do as you say.”
“Ah, one more thing. Don’t forget to thoroughly silence the people here. Especially this person.”
Choi Jae-won said, tapping a particularly irritating part of the report with his finger. It was the section detailing the actions of a C-class Esper who, claiming to be the boss of a lawless zone, had troubled Ryu Ho-yeon in various ways.
“I understand perfectly. I’ll wrap it up cleanly so you won’t have to worry about it further.”
As it happened, “thoroughly silencing” people in various ways was a field in which the former martial artist attendant was quite confident. Even for a C-class Esper, who was now little more than a living mummy after having their guiding drained by Choi Jae-won, he could handle it sufficiently at his level.
After the attendant disappeared with a respectful bow, Choi Jae-won re-read the report thoroughly and then lay down comfortably next to Ryu Ho-yeon. Despite the late hour, well past three in the morning, he wasn’t tired at all. His mind was just wide awake.
While relishing in satisfaction watching Ryu Ho-yeon’s sleeping face, his mobile phone buzzed with ill-timed timing. Choi Jae-won quickly switched the phone to silent mode, fearing it might wake Ryu Ho-yeon. The caller was the Laboratory Director.
Choi Jae-won didn’t answer, but the other party was equally persistent and self-centered. His temperament was evident in how he called casually after finishing work, even though it was the dead of night on the opposite side of the earth.
The calls continued at least five or six more times even after being switched to silent. Not giving up even then, a barrage of messages began immediately.
[Director Ryu> I heard you went all the way to South America. Why didn’t you tell me?]
So he just found out now. It seems the once-influential Laboratory Director, nearing retirement age, is gradually losing his clout. His speed at extracting information is markedly different from before. The Center’s position and status itself has also rapidly declined compared to before, which is likely contributing.
[Director Ryu> Did you find any traces?]
[Director Ryu> Jae-won.]
[Director Ryu> Please contact me as soon as you check these messages. It’s a favor.]
Choi Jae-won, checking the desperate content of the messages appearing in the preview, somehow found it amusing and burst into giggles.
“…Why were you so cold to me?”
[Director Ryu> Did you find any of our Ho-yeon’s belongings? Did you find any evidence that he’s alive?]
“If you had listened to my request to wait a little while I tried to improve the matching rate somehow, I might have thought differently too.”
The melody of his humming tune was the theme song from a boy’s manga that Ryu Ho-yeon used to enjoy watching a few years ago. The mood of the melody was utterly cheerful and energetic, as if representing Choi Jae-won’s excited heart on the verge of achieving his dream.
Only then did Choi Jae-won open the message window and slowly begin moving his fingers.
[Director Ryu> Did you find his body at least?]
[Director Ryu< I'm sorry.]
[Director Ryu< I couldn't find anything this time either.]
Ryu Ho-yeon, whom everyone believed to be dead. Choi Jae-won couldn't help but laugh.
"Don't worry. We'll be happy just having each other."
There was no response from the deeply sleeping other party to his affectionate whisper.
"I already am."
I love you, hyung. As always, his final confession was made in a hushed voice. The noose seemed perfect.
'If Jae-won's aunt is Han-seo's mother…? Why shouldn't Han-seo's mother know? And who was cold to Jae-won? It must be my mother…'
Indeed, everything would have been perfect if not for the fact that Ryu Ho-yeon, who had actually been awake and listening attentively for the past few minutes, had his memory intact.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
