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    <Haebeom 3>

    My aunt was a gourmand. People said she had a tongue twice as sensitive as anyone else’s. She also possessed the qualities of a businesswoman, inherited from my grandfather. This played a crucial role in her expanding a small Korean restaurant downtown into a three-story establishment.

    As the restaurant grew, my cousin and I quit our part-time jobs and started working for our aunt. I washed dishes, and Yena was a server. Back then, neither of us had much interest in cooking. My aunt’s refined palate was a result of growing up with fine dining, an environment Yena and I lacked.

    Nevertheless, my aunt entrusted me to the head chef. He was skeptical but taught me appetizer recipes. Unexpectedly, the results were a success. My colleagues in the kitchen appreciated my quick hands and precise measurements. My aunt and Yena told me the customers loved my food.

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    I was overjoyed. It was a feeling of accomplishment I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

    I was fourteen then. An age where I didn’t know the limitations imposed by one’s background, an age where even a small sense of accomplishment allowed me to dream.

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    I became an apprentice to the pastry chef, learning to bake cakes and cookies. I participated in various competitions, winning awards both big and small. The accumulating certificates and trophies became our family’s pride.

    To attend vocational school, I couldn’t neglect my studies. My aunt stretched our living expenses to enroll me in a culinary academy prep course. My homeroom teacher, despite the risk to his own career, wrote me a letter of recommendation.

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    My dream was a house of cards built on the sacrifices of many. Reaching my goal was the only possible, the only available path for me. The school rewarded me with a rejection letter, stating that I had failed the final stage of the entrance exam: the background check.

    ✶⋆.˚

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    Shin Youngsan of Seo Pharmaceuticals, Ha Jinju of Yuseong Foods, Jin Hwayoung of Daeil Electronics.

    Gi Woohee displayed the three profiles side-by-side on the monitor.

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    The three, known as the “Three Dragons” of the Republican Party, had one thing in common besides being business-turned-politicians. They all came from working-class or lower-middle-class families and were self-made.

    The Republican Party, rallied around the Three Dragons, focused on dismantling the Kwon family’s dictatorship. It was the twilight of the dynasty. Amidst the sharp conflicts between conservatives and progressives, dictatorship and equality, the 49th president, Kwon Ilhyuk, demonstrated with his own life, and the lives of others, just how unstable the newly emerged power was, and what a grave mistake it had been to fail to win over the older generation who remembered the glory days.

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    Kwon Ilhyuk aimed for the powerful absolute monarchy he had witnessed his grandmother wield in his childhood. He mobilized the military as a means to reunite the three branches of government that the Republican Party had separated.

    Maintaining an army costs money. To cover military expenses, Kwon Ilhyuk abolished the nation’s welfare system and raised taxes. He manipulated laws and regulations to his liking, squeezing the citizens dry. Thus, the middle class crumbled. As the wealth gap widened dramatically, the lives of most citizens were driven to the brink. The era of the Great Famine had begun.

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    Various cults flourished amidst the impoverished lives of the common people. Among them, the “Swan Cult” quickly emerged as a revolutionary group, attracting thousands of followers.

    Kwon Ilhyuk didn’t stand idly by. It was an opportunity to demonstrate the revival of absolute monarchy. The target was set, the gun loaded. Kwon Ilhyuk and his army focused on suppressing the Swan Cult.

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    Every action has its light and shadow. Kwon Ilhyuk’s military junta split into two factions: the “radicals,” who argued that violence was inevitable for national stability, and the “moderates,” who believed that the indiscriminate suppression of men, women, and children would only exacerbate public anxiety. As Kwon Ilhyuk had openly discriminated against politicians, dividing them into “main family” and “branch family,” the internal division accelerated.

    Gi Woohee opened another profile.

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    Former Chief of Staff, Kwak Jaeheon.

    He emerged as the leader of the moderates after Kwon Ilhyuk’s junta split. As a politician from a social enterprise background, he was also the head of the “branch family.” Kwak Jaeheon grew up in a single-parent household, his father an ordinary worker, not a politician or anything of the sort.

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    Gi Woohee moved Kwak Jaeheon’s profile next to Jin Hwayoung’s. Although the timing and reasons were different, they shared the fate of having their heads chopped off by the president’s blade.

    “I fucking pity Ryu Yeonbi,” Jin Chiwoo mumbled, cigarette dangling from his lips.

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    “Getting involved with a dude over twenty years older than her, and getting branded a national adulteress, fuck. It’s so fucking sad, it brings tears to my eyes.”

    “Did you like her?”

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    “Who in our age doesn’t know Ryu Yeonbi? She had a lot of female fans too. You weren’t interested, I guess?”

    “Celebrities and such… not really, even now I’m not interested.”

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    “Even you know her name, so imagine how famous she was.”

    Ryu Yeonbi’s charge was disciplinary misconduct, and the punishment was public execution.

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    Ryu Yeonbi and Kwak Jaeheon were public figures loved by the public for different reasons. This also meant that their power weakened when public interest and affection waned. The one who grasped this fact was Kwon Joohyuk, Kwon Ilhyuk’s younger brother and closest confidant. The one currently occupying Kwak Jaeheon’s position.

    Kwon Joohyuk didn’t take over as Kwak Jaeheon’s successor. He abolished the position itself and created a new one. The former Chief of Staff was now the Presidential Aide. Therefore, Kwon Joohyuk was not Kwak Jaeheon’s successor, but the first Presidential Aide. That fact was important.

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    Gi Woohee remembered Kwon Joohyuk’s expressionless face as he offered her a cigarette. She also remembered the words he spoke.

    “Giving you freedom…”

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    Gi Woohee was aware that she was a tool for laundering President Kwon Ilhyuk’s image. Whenever that thought crossed her mind, she wanted to drain every drop of her biological father’s blood from her veins.

    Jin Chiwoo, looking at Gi Woohee, said, “There’s no freedom. We probably won’t see it in our generation.”

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    “Probably.”

    “But if we fucking bust our asses, maybe our kids will get to enjoy it, right?”

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    “Must you use that language?”

    “So, am I wrong?”

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    Gi Woohee sighed softly. She knew why Jin Chiwoo was saying this.

    Jung Ryujin was Ryu Yeonbi’s sibling. Ryu Yeonbi was a victim of the Kwon Ilhyuk regime. So, if they had met under different circumstances, at least not as a member of <White Lion>, which opposed the Disciplinary Training Center… Jung Ryujin might be sitting in front of this monitor instead of in that interrogation room right now. Munching on a slice of cold but tasty pizza.

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    “Get some sleep. It’s going to be a while.”

    “No, this is my job too.”

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    Jin Chiwoo’s voice was firm.

    “I can’t just leave it to Haebeom and go slack off. I have a conscience. And that bitch Jung Ryujin, if I don’t take care of her, our Valkyrie will be sobbing in the junkyard.”

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    Shin Haebeom stripped Ryujin naked and threw her to the floor. He splashed cold water on her battered body.

    “Ah!”

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    The cold pierced her to the bone. Her teeth chattered. Shin Haebeom, holding the showerhead, grinned.

    “Now, let’s talk.”

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    “Fuck off.”

    A booted foot flew. Ryujin curled up, protecting her head. She resolved not to give him what he wanted, no matter what tricks this devil pulled.

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    “Aagh!”

    Her hair was yanked. Ryujin glared at Shin Haebeom, who was shaking the showerhead in her face.

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    “Want your nose broken?”

    “Fuck off! You pervert!”

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    “I really don’t get your character. Begging me to stop, then bouncing back up to curse… Are you a roly-poly toy? The embodiment of the hungry spirit that never gives up?”

    Shin Haebeom burst out laughing. Still laughing, he struck Ryujin’s temple with the showerhead. The same spot he had burned with a cigarette.

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    “Aaack!”

    “Give up on stalling.”

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    There would be no negotiations with <White Lion>. That had been made clear from the start. Wasn’t it obvious? His one and only friend nearly met the King of Hell. The thought still made his fingertips tremble slightly.

    Shin Haebeom wrapped the hose around his fist. It was a refreshing feeling he hadn’t experienced in a while. All thanks to Jung Ryujin’s tight little hole.

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    Shin Haebeom stepped on Ryujin’s ankle as she crawled forward.

    “Ow…!”

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    “Who put you up to this?”

    “There’s no one.”

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    “I’m asking again. Who’s the mastermind?”

    “There isn’t one! You fucking bastard! If you’re so curious, go die and ask the Grim Reaper!”

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    Shin Haebeom shrugged.

    “Well, I usually ask three times. The mastermind’s name?”

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    “…”

    “Is the open-ended question too hard? Then I’ll give you multiple choices. 1. Ha Sungrok. 2. Ha Shinsung. See? Easy, right?”

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    “Bullshit.”

    Shin Haebeom sighed deeply.

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    “Are you stupid?”

    “What are you talking about, you crazy bastard!”

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    How could she be so short-sighted? Jung Ryujin was a fool. This was a chance Shin Haebeom was kindly offering her. A subtle offer to trade: give up one of the two troublemakers of the Disciplinary Training Center, and he might show her leniency.

    “Don’t you want to live?”

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    Shin Haebeom was curious.

    “Or have you given up? Are you planning to take the fall all by yourself?”

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    “…”

    “Ryu Yeonwoo. Answer me.”

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    “Did you get shot in the head? Who the hell are you calling?”

    “Don’t even try to deny it, I’ve already looked into your background. You’re Ryu Yeonbi’s younger sibling, aren’t you?”

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    “…”

    “Silence means guilt. I see right through you.”

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    “Don’t act so smug, you asshole!”

    Shin Haebeom chuckled. No matter how tough a life Jung Ryujin had lived, he was still young. He could tell by the way he was so clueless and whiny, unable to grasp reality.

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    “I can guess why you changed your name. But it doesn’t matter when you look exactly the same.”

    “Shut your mouth.”

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    “You shut up. Before I rip you to shreds.”

    Shin Haebeom put a cigarette in his mouth. Ryujin flinched at the sound of the Dupont lighter.

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    “Why? Afraid I’ll burn you again?”

    “You fucking bastard! Son of a bitch!”

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    “So pick someone quickly. I’m patient, but the guy waiting outside isn’t. Want to start the physical examination all over again with Chiwoo?”

    “There really isn’t anyone! There isn’t! What am I supposed to say when there’s no one!”

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    “Ah… right.”

    Shin Haebeom crouched down. He transferred the cigarette from his mouth to his fingers. His gaze landed on Ryujin’s ankle. His protruding ankle bone was quite delicate.

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    A convulsive scream tore through Shin Haebeom’s eardrums.

    “There really isn’t anyone! I planned it all by myself!”

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    “Okay. I got it.”

    “Really! Believe me! You said it yourself, that bomb was fucking crude…! Fuck, get that away!”

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    “Number 1, or number 2?”

    Ryujin’s eyes wavered. His hands, tied behind his back, trembled.

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    “Did you forget because you’re stupid? Then let me put it more simply. This is really your last chance, Jung Ryujin. Think carefully.”

    “…”

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    “Big lion, or little lion. Which one?”

    “…”

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    Shin Haebeom sighed.

    The smell of burning flesh stung his nose.

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    Ryujin sobbed, his forehead pressed against the floor. Blood from his lip trickled down his chin. Shin Haebeom tightened his grip. His cries intensified.

    The moment their eyes met, Shin Haebeom grinned.

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    “Next time, it goes in your eye. Who’s the mastermind?”

    Now, whether it was true or not didn’t matter. The important thing for Ryujin was that this was the last chance Shin Haebeom was giving him.

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    9:00 AM.

    The steel door opened. Shin Haebeom, reeking of cigarettes and blood, appeared. Gi Woohee jumped up and saluted.

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    “Good work, sir.”

    “Hmm.”

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    The sergeant pulled a towel from a drawer and offered it. Shin Haebeom dried his wet hair and sat on the edge of the sofa where Jin Chiwoo was curled up asleep.

    “He’s holding out longer than I thought. We’ll start again in the afternoon.”

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    Looking at Shin Haebeom’s wet hair, clothes, and boots, Gi Woohee guessed that Jung Ryujin had been waterboarded. Yet, there were no results. He looked frail, tall and skinny, but unexpectedly resilient.

    Gi Woohee displayed the CCTV footage on the monitor. The sergeant, glancing at the screen, gasped. The interrogation room was awash not in water, but blood. The overturned chair with broken legs and the shattered toilet were a gruesome sight. Jung Ryujin lay unconscious, covered in debris. His arms were tied behind his back, and, naturally, he was naked.

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    Gi Woohee, masking his reaction, swiftly kicked the sergeant’s shin, making him turn to face the wall. He then asked Shin Haebeom, “Shouldn’t we send him to the infirmary?”

    “I already asked for a stretcher.”

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    “There’s been no contact from White Lion.”

    Shin Haebeom drained a bottle of water in one gulp.

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    “That’s a big pawn to sacrifice.”

    “What about the possibility of Jung Ryujin acting alone?”

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    “There’s always a possibility.”

    “Then wouldn’t interrogation be pointless? We’ve already apprehended the mastermind.”

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    “Opportunities are there to be taken, Major.”

    Shin Haebeom smiled faintly.

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    “Jung Ryujin is weak. He might be putting up a fight now, but… you know, those types don’t last long.”

    Shin Haebeom always said it was crucial to break their spirit from the beginning.

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    “Once their mouths open, they’ll blabber whatever we tell them to, whether they did it or not.”

    “Of course, I trust you, sir. But…”

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    “But what?”

    “If it comes out that Jung Ryujin made a false confession under duress, it could give Yu Mihyun, who has the upper hand with the Gwak Hyeonwoo case, another opportunity.”

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    Shin Haebeom tossed the empty bottle into the trash can.

    “We almost lost a unit commander. If anyone tries to muddy the waters now, even Yu Mihyun will be labeled a rebel. I don’t think she’s that reckless.”

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    As if sensing a presence, Jin Chiwoo stirred awake. Shin Haebeom snapped his fingers in front of his friend’s dazed face.

    “Sleep well?”

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    “…”

    “Did you reunite with your beloved car in your dreams? You seem lost in another world.”

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    Jin Chiwoo slowly lit a cigarette. His voice was raspy.

    “Can I go in now?”

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    “Not yet. I half-killed him.”

    Surgeon Oh Jaehyun entered with a medic. Jin Chiwoo scratched his eyebrows.

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    “What’s all the fuss about? Some important patient arrived?”

    Gi Woohee, looking at the monitor, inwardly sighed. Jung Ryujin’s condition was clearly not good. The wound on his temple was particularly severe. Shin Haebeom’s cigarette, aimed at Jung Ryujin’s eye, had changed trajectory at the last moment and landed on his temple, a spot he had already burned. Shin Haebeom, straddling the struggling Jung Ryujin, looked like a devil.

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    The unconscious Jung Ryujin was carried out on a stretcher. Oh Jaehyun’s expression was a sight to behold. But he would soon get used to it. No one started out like this.

    As the stretcher passed by, Gi Woohee felt a tightening in his chest. The swollen face was a horrific sight. The wound on the temple looked like a bullet hole. His chest rose and fell with difficulty, and a rattling sound came from his throat. The stench of blood and pus was overpowering.

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    Gi Woohee silently turned his head. Jin Chiwoo blurted out, “Send him to plastic surgery first. His pretty face is all messed up.”

    It wasn’t even a funny joke. Shin Haebeom shook his head.

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    ✶⋆.˚

    The club was empty. The lighting and sound equipment had been removed, and even the few pieces of furniture were gone, leaving nothing behind. Ha Shinsung didn’t know who had taken over the place or what it would be used for. It didn’t matter anymore. Ha Shinsung’s attention was solely focused on Cha Moeun.

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    Leaning his elbows on the second-floor railing, he lit a cigarette.

    “Neither I nor Sayul sunbae treated her badly.”

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    Smoke dispersed into the air.

    “I think we treated her well, actually.”

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    “And you expect me to believe that?”

    “Believe it or not, I don’t care, but at least we didn’t give her false hope. We didn’t deceive her. I clearly told her that she could die, no, that she had to be prepared to die. Unlike someone.”

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    “Then why did she do it?”

    Cha Moeun, looking down at the desolate hall, said, “She intended to self-destruct from the beginning.”

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    “What?”

    “Would she want to live after what happened to Hyeonwoo?”

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    Ash scattered into the air.

    “Think about what you did to her.”

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    “I was on Ryujin’s side.”

    “Hypocrite.”

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    Cha Moeun scoffed.

    “You were only thinking about fucking Jung Ryujin from the start. You hovered around her, trying to find any weakness you could exploit.”

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    “What?”

    “You were truly disgusting, Ha Shinsung. I know you saw Hyeonwoo as a thorn in your side. Because he protected Jung Ryujin. He prevented you from laying a hand on her.”

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    “Don’t talk out of turn, Cha Moeun.”

    “You might have been able to fool that idiot Jung Ryujin, but not me.”

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    The corner of Ha Shinsung’s mouth twisted.

    “Are you writing a novel? Sorry, but the scenario is too much of a mess.”

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    “You’re the protagonist of that messy scenario.”

    Cha Moeun’s voice turned cold.

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    “Sayul sunbae clearly said, if you want to live, do as I say. If you’re even a minute late or early, everything goes down the drain. It was Jung Ryujin who ignored the instructions and acted on her own. And it was you who drove her to it. Why did you make a promise you couldn’t keep? Why didn’t you just tell her Hyeonwoo was dead!”

    “…I didn’t kill Gwak Hyeonwoo.”

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    “Jin Chiwoo killed Hyeonwoo, but you killed Jung Ryujin.”

    “Enough, Cha Moeun.”

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    “No, I have to say it. You killed Jung Ryujin, Ha Shinsung. You broke her spirit. She died while being subjected to you. Under you, she was just… a living corpse.”

    Ha Shinsung’s hand, gripping the railing, trembled. Cha Moeun’s voice continued.

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    “Why do you think she did it? Why couldn’t she wait? Why didn’t she listen to us? Because she couldn’t stand it for even a minute, even a second.”

    “It’s your responsibility for leaving her alone!”

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    “We tried to catch her!”

    Cha Moeun shouted.

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    “We dispatched all our members to chase after her! Because we knew what that stupid bitch would do! Let me be clear, I tried to stop her!”

    “Then why couldn’t you stop her!”

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    “It was too late.”

    He described what he had seen.

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    “I could tell from a distance. Jin Chiwoo’s car is famous, you know. That red Chrysler was spinning in the air, it looked like some kind of show, crazy.”

    “…”

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    “Don’t look at me like that. You, me, Sayul sunbae, even the boss, we were all fooled by her.”

    The cigarette smoke Cha Moeun exhaled obscured Ha Shinsung’s vision.

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    “How much do you know about Jung Ryujin?”

    “What?”

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    “Really, what was your relationship with her? Hyeonwoo didn’t tell me. Do you think I don’t know that he kept his mouth shut out of consideration for your pride?”

    “Are we comparing who’s more at fault now? That’s funny.”

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    Ha Shinsung sneered.

    “We both failed in our romantic endeavors.”

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    “Shut up. Before I put a tracer round in your head.”

    Ha Shinsung gritted his teeth.

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    The moment he first saw Gwak Hyeonwoo, the moment he introduced himself and offered a handshake, Ha Shinsung wanted to turn back time and slam his past self, the one who suggested to Jung Ryujin that she recommend someone, into the ground.

    Gwak Hyeonwoo was different from Ha Shinsung in every way. Pale face, glasses covering half his face, tall but skinny. He was the type who seemed destined for a desk job. And that was Kwak Jaeheon’s son? Jung Ryujin’s friend?

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    Ha Shinsung remembered the look on Jung Ryujin’s face when he looked at Gwak Hyeonwoo. He hadn’t known the guy could smile like that. Despite all the favors and care he’d shown him, Ryujin never uttered a word of thanks, leading Shinsung to believe he was an unfeeling block of wood. He was wrong. Jung Ryujin was…

    ‘Hyeonwoo-hyung is family.’

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    Then what am I?

    Gwak Hyeonwoo could do things Ha Shinsung couldn’t. Touch Jung Ryujin’s cheek, stroke his hair, hold his hand, even sleep tangled together in the same bed. To accusations of their suspicious atmosphere, they’d explain they were like brothers.

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    Bullshit. What kind of brother looks at his sibling like that?

    “Deceptive bastard.”

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    Ha Shinsung wondered what it was about Gwak Hyeonwoo that drew people in. What did that frail guy have that made Jung Ryujin, Cha Moeun, and everyone else act like teenagers high on ecstasy?

    “Deceptive bastard? That’s rich. Are you blaming Hyeonwoo now?”

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    “I was Gwak Hyeonwoo’s team leader. I know him better than you do.”

    “Oh really?”

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    Cha Moeun’s lips twisted.

    “Then you must know this too, right? That Jung Ryujin was sleeping with the boss?”

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    “What?”

    “Idiot. Look at your face.”

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    “What nonsense are you spouting!”

    “You moron. And you call yourself a team leader.”

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    “Hey! Cha Moeun! Even if you hate Jung Ryujin!”

    Ha Shinsung stomped his foot. But Cha Moeun’s momentum didn’t falter.

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    “If you don’t believe me, ask Sayul-sunbae. No, you’d better ask the boss directly.”

    “Stop with the bullshit. There’s a limit to my patience.”

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    “It’s not you who’s being patient, it’s me. You know, I think the boss took my side in this whole thing because he and Jung Ryujin were a thing.”

    Ha Shinsung gaped. He couldn’t understand what Cha Moeun was saying. No, his mind understood, but his heart couldn’t accept it.

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    “The boss wanted to get rid of Jung Ryujin. Before a lovers’ quarrel erupted between father and son.”

    “That’s impossible.”

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    “Yeah, now’s the denial stage.”

    Ha Shinsung wanted to argue. His father hadn’t protected Ryujin because of him. If it came out that a team leader used his power to sexually exploit a team member, no one would respect that leader.

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    Cha Moeun tilted his head.

    “What is it about Jung Ryujin that has both father and son so obsessed?”

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    Cha Moeun’s voice was like poison spreading through his veins. Ha Shinsung barely managed to hold onto the railing.

    His father’s enraged face flashed before his eyes.

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    ‘Are you going to deny it? Are you going to say he came onto you first? Stop it! Do you want to stoop that low?!’

    He had thought it was love.

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    A father’s protective love, concerned for his son’s reputation and future.

    It wasn’t. It wasn’t love. What consumed Ha Sungrok at that moment was rage. Hostility toward a rival.

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    Cha Moeun’s sarcasm was biting.

    “You’re a lot like the boss. But I never thought you’d have the same taste in lovers.”

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    Ha Shinsung couldn’t retort. His father’s face appeared and disappeared before his eyes. Then, Ryujin’s red hair, slender neck, and back covered by an oversized jacket filled his vision.

    ✶⋆.˚

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    They’d made a lunch date. It wasn’t unusual, so he hadn’t thought much of it. However, the moment they sat across from each other, Lee Rohan realized something was seriously wrong with Ha Shinsung.

    His eyes, visible under the low-pulled baseball cap, were hollow. Sunken cheeks and chapped lips. Ha Shinsung looked like he’d aged ten years overnight. Lee Rohan knew where his friend’s drastic change stemmed from.

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    “Are you okay?”

    “What?”

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    The look from under the cap was hostile.

    “What do you mean ‘what’? You look… never mind. You’ve got enough on your mind, let’s not think about it while we eat.”

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    “Did you know?”

    “…Know what?”

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    “About my father and Ryujin. Did you know?”

    Lee Rohan’s fingers, tracing the menu, stopped.

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    “Lee Rohan, answer me.”

    He drained a glass of water. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand as Ha Shinsung asked again.

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    “Did you know my father and Jung Ryujin were sleeping together?”

    The restaurant was bustling with the lunchtime crowd. The noise of conversations, clattering dishes, the chime of food being ready, and servers taking orders filled the air. But it wasn’t so loud that he couldn’t hear what Ha Shinsung was saying.

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    Lee Rohan nodded.

    “Yes.”

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    Ha Shinsung’s eyes widened. Lee Rohan quickly added, “Sayul-sunbae told us to keep quiet. It wasn’t intentional concealment.”

    “He should have at least told me!”

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    “…”

    “Is it fun making a fool out of me? Can you believe I found out about my father and Jung Ryujin from Cha Moeun?”

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    “I just…! I thought you were… playing around for a bit. Were you serious?”

    Ha Shinsung’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Lee Rohan’s face paled.

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    “Hey, you…”

    He was dumbfounded. This was a critical time for the organization, a matter of survival. He couldn’t believe Shinsung was consumed by a love triangle.

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    Lee Rohan wasn’t against office romances. He’d even encourage them. It would be a tragedy if the young and vibrant members in their twenties and thirties grew old without experiencing love. Cha Moeun and Gwak Hyeonwoo, though an unexpected pairing, weren’t entirely incomprehensible. People are drawn to those who complement their shortcomings.

    The human heart is unpredictable.

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    Lee Rohan didn’t expect everyone in the organization to have a heart of steel. Even countless absolute rulers throughout history had lovers. He simply offered cautionary advice. Avoid getting involved with civilians. If you’re lonely, if you need someone to lean on, find someone within the organization who understands your position.

    But this was different. This was truly wrong.

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    The boss of the organization and his successor as rivals in love. A power struggle over a low-ranking member. And they were father and son. This was some ridiculous drama.

    Lee Rohan muttered, “Tell me it’s not true. Tell me it was just a fling, just for fun, Sung-ah. Don’t try to compete with the boss.”

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    Ha Shinsung didn’t answer.

    “Sung-ah. Think about our position too.”

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    “…”

    Lee Rohan wanted to shake Ha Shinsung by the throat. He thought of the powerful figures in history who, despite commanding the world, were brought down by love. An absolute ruler shouldn’t love. Not parents, not lovers, not even their own children.

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    They shouldn’t even be truly attached to pets. They shouldn’t create anything precious that could become a weakness. Absolute rule was impossible unless you were a cold-blooded person who spat on all human emotions, threw them in the trash, and slammed the lid shut without a second thought.

    In that sense, Ha Sungrok had fulfilled Lee Rohan’s expectations. He had awakened after losing his wife. He had survived in a foreign land with the sole determination to fight against immense power. He didn’t entirely believe the tearful survival story about baking cookies with mud and boiling tree bark for soup, but Ha Sungrok was a man worthy of respect.

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    He had lost everything, but he hadn’t given up. He even raised his only son as a tool for revenge. <White Lion> was the only revolutionary army giving the people a breath of fresh air in this dog-eat-dog world.

    And now this.

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    Lee Rohan swallowed. A different kind of rage than what Ha Shinsung was feeling simmered beneath his burning tongue.

    “I found out by chance too.”

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    Lee Rohan recalled the memory.

    There had been a brawl at <White Swan> that day. Fights between thugs were common, but that day’s was particularly large, disrupting business. The property damage was significant enough to warrant a report. The managers present at the club that day were Baek Sayul, Lee Rohan, and Cha Moeun.

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    “Sayul-sunbae didn’t report it.”

    Lee Rohan asked why, but Baek Sayul dodged the question.

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    “I figured he had his reasons, but you know Cha Moeun’s temper. Who can stop that runaway train?”

    Lee Rohan licked his dry lips. He said he and Cha Moeun went up to the second floor and peeked into the boss’s room from the hallway. Without Baek Sayul knowing.

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    “But Sayul-sunbae is sharp.”

    Lee Rohan didn’t explicitly reveal what he saw that day. But it was easy enough to guess. Ha Sungrok had led Jung Ryujin out of his room. No one could enter that room until Ryujin emerged.

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    Ha Shinsung stared intently at Lee Rohan’s face.

    “Are you sure?”

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    “I’m sure. I saw it clearly.”

    “You didn’t see wrong?”

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    Lee Rohan vehemently denied it.

    “Even though business was over, the stage lights were still on. And you can tell just by his back, that red hair. And the leather jacket you gave him.”

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    “…”

    “What was I supposed to say in that situation?”

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    “You could have told me.”

    “That was Sayul-sunbae’s…”

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    “Stop harping on about Baek Sayul!”

    Ha Shinsung slammed his fist on the table. Glances darted their way from nearby tables. Lee Rohan quickly raised the menu to shield his face.

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    “I didn’t tell anyone. Neither did Sayul-sunbae. But honestly, I don’t know about Cha Moeun. He’s pretty pissed right now…”

    “Are rumors important right now?”

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    Lee Rohan blinked.

    “They’re not?”

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    “Ugh!”

    “Don’t get so angry. I was really… taken aback too.”

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    Ha Shinsung let out a hollow laugh.

    “Yeah, the rumor mill will be buzzing now. I relied on my image even while dealing drugs, what am I going to do? Everyone will think I should quit being a team leader and become a beggar.”

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    “Hey, don’t talk like that.”

    Lee Rohan said defensively, “Seunghwan and the guys below don’t know yet. They’ll never know. I’ll tell Sayul-sunbae to silence Cha Moeun again. Hey, he’s just hot-headed right now, you know how tight-lipped he usually is.”

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    When Ha Shinsung remained silent, his voice rose. “Hey, is that what’s important right now? When we’re about to wrap everything up and run? Hey, hey, what about your place?”

    “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

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    Lee Rohan sighed. “Sung-ah. Are you really angry?”

    “…”

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    “I’ll sound like a real asshole saying this, but… it’s best to forget about Ryujin. The boss had his reasons for making that decision.”

    “…”

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    “He’s the guy who smashed a soju bottle over a teammate’s head. Who knows what kind of trouble he’ll cause later?”

    Ha Shinsung clenched his jaw. He applauded Lee Rohan’s swift change of allegiance. Disgust welled up inside him at the thought that everyone was surviving this way. In the end, it was all organizational politics.

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    Jung Ryujin was incredibly unlucky. He had a truly shitty fate. He’d gone through hell and back, finally found a place to belong, and now he’d been pushed over the edge. I pushed him there.

    Ha Shinsung scrubbed his face with his hands.

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    ✶⋆.˚

    He put on a crisply ironed shirt. The boots under his desk were spotless, the toes gleaming like new.

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    He donned his uniform jacket, heavy with medals. He sprayed a subtle cologne on his collar. He applied clear lip balm to his chapped lips and concealer under his eyes to hide his fatigue. Jin Chiwoo, shoveling sushi into his mouth two pieces at a time, frowned.

    “Aren’t you tired?”

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    “I am.”

    “That’s why I said let’s just order in, but you insisted on going to the cafeteria… Dude, do you know how good delivery services are these days? The food is even tastier. Look at this. The broth is still hot.”

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    “I like our cafeteria.”

    Shin Haebeom said, looking at the mirror on the wall.

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    “The ladies’ cooking is superb.”

    “Superb cooking my ass. Are you a grandpa?”

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    “It’s a matter of personal preference. Just like you enjoy eating quickly and efficiently, Chiwoo, I enjoy a nutritious meal that’s familiar and made with care.”

    “Bullshit. Is delivery food made by robots or something?”

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    “Even the most advanced robot can’t replicate a human touch. Especially when it comes to cooking.”

    “Oh, yeah, you’re so great. Your palate is Michelin three-star.”

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    Shin Haebeom smiled at his friend. Jin Chiwoo grimaced. Shin Haebeom shrugged nonchalantly and looked down at his palms, hands that once wielded various cooking utensils.

    The cafeteria was crowded. The staff cafeteria was the first facility Shin Haebeom had overhauled after taking over as commander.

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    He’d implemented anonymous voting for food suppliers and open recruitment for nutritionists and cooks. He even attended the final interviews. Shin Haebeom’s actions were an unprecedented “event,” overturning a system determined by connections and bribes. Broadcast inquiries and interview requests flooded in. Shin Haebeom’s response was short: We don’t play games with food.

    Following common-sense rules caused a stir. That’s how difficult the world had become. Corruption was rampant. Bottom-up reform would be impossible unless the older generation, who remembered the welfare state of the past, turned their backs on Kwon Ilhyuk. But within the system?

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    There were two menu options today: Western and Chinese.

    Shin Haebeom joined the end of the long line at the Western food counter. The soldiers in line bowed deeply, greeting him loudly. Shin Haebeom waved them off, smiling brightly and thinking to himself, You foolish friend, obsessed with convenience, this is why I eat at the cafeteria.

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    “Major! Major!”

    “What?”

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    “The Brigadier General is coming.”

    Gi Woohee scrambled to his feet. Shin Haebeom, holding a tray, was smiling brightly. Oh, go somewhere else…

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    “Eat comfortably. Don’t mind me.”

    He’d known from the commotion at the entrance. Some officers who frequented the cafeteria avoided peak hours out of consideration for their subordinates, but Shin Haebeom seemed oblivious to this. He arrived precisely at the busiest time. Gi Woohee could easily guess one of Shin Haebeom’s future nicknames: Three-Meals-a-Day.

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    “I said, eat. Stop staring at me.”

    Laughter erupted, echoing through the cafeteria. He didn’t understand what was so funny.

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    The dumplings he’d swallowed whole without chewing were lodged in his throat. Gi Woohee gulped down water, failing to notice that other soldiers were making excuses and leaving.

    “Major Gi.”

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    “Yes, sir?”

    “Is lunch break too short? Everyone seems to be leaving quickly.”

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    “Ah… well…”

    These traitors!

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    Gi Woohee forced a smile and looked at Shin Haebeom. “I’m not sure, sir. I’m fine.”

    A wry smile spread across Shin Haebeom’s face.

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    “It’s hard to fit in, isn’t it?”

    “…”

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    “I like our cafeteria. The food is delicious, the interior is excellent. Even these spoons, the kitchen keeps them so clean I’ve never seen a speck of dust. Most importantly, our soldiers are here. Regardless of rank, everyone lines up equally and eats the same food depending on the day’s menu. This is a place open to everyone. That’s why I really like our cafeteria.”

    Gi Woohee sat back down, his half-raised backside returning to the chair. His lips twitched slightly.

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    “What do you think, Major Gi?”

    “I completely agree, sir. Ah, I was just about to get some water. Would you mind waiting a moment?”

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    “Oh dear. I didn’t intend to make you run errands.”

    “Run errands? I do it gladly, sir.”

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    Gi Woohee inwardly groaned. He’d rather be back in the confined interrogation room with Jin Chiwoo munching on pizza.

    Shin Haebeom ate silently. It was as if he were cutting his steak with a laser.

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    Table manners were deeply ingrained in him. He didn’t rest his elbows on the table, only spoke after swallowing his food, and handled his knife and fork as if they were expensive ink pens. The way he spread cream cheese on his bagel looked like a restaurant commercial.

    Gi Woohee wondered if he should take a picture of this, create a manual, and distribute it. To encourage upper-class enlistment. The <Disciplinary Training Center> couldn’t function solely as a gateway to upward mobility forever.

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    “What are you thinking so hard about?”

    “I was thinking about our soldiers, sir. Should we implement table manners training?”

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    “Why all of a sudden?”

    “Appearances are important, after all.”

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    “If that were as easy as you think, I wouldn’t have gone through all that trouble. Getting smacked on the back of the hand with a spoon at thirty, it’s fucking awful.”

    Gi Woohee nodded. Learning something wasn’t that difficult. But turning it into a habit was. Shin Haebeom’s movements were so natural because he must have received some upper-class education as a child.

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    “Delicious.”

    “Sir?”

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    “The food tastes particularly good today.”

    “Ah, yes, sir.”

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    “I wonder if Yu has eaten lunch.”

    Yu Mihyun, the number three of the Shinryonggwan, the Chief Strategist. He shared many similarities with Shin Haebeom. The imposing aura they exuded just by standing still, and the fact that it was all a carefully crafted image.

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    Gi Woohee pictured Yu Mihyun’s triumphant face, perfectly polished. How would Yu Mihyun, who had attacked the Disciplinary Training Center over Gwak Hyeonwoo’s death, feel now, knowing that Jin Chiwoo had nearly died?

    “He’s probably wearing red lipstick,” Gi Woohee said casually.

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    “Because he’ll be feeling absolutely terrible.”

    Public opinion was buzzing with sympathy for Jin Chiwoo. How could a public servant be threatened while simply performing his duties? If a high-ranking official like the deputy commander of the Disciplinary Training Center could be targeted by terrorists, how lax was national security? That was the general sentiment.

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