Esquisse Chapter 1

The goldfish rolled over the shattered fishbowl. The 18,000-won easel she bought after much deliberation met the same fate.

 

At least her father wasn’t rolling on the floor—should she consider that fortunate? Her empty gaze swept across the uninvited guests trampling through the living room and landed on Song Mansik, crumpled in a corner.

 

“Oh, ooh, my Seorin is here!”

 

Kneeling down and pretending to act familiar, Mansik looked a complete mess. His cheeks, still marked by tear stains, and the blood stuck to the philtrum seemed more ridiculous than pitiful.

 

“This girl is Song Seorin, sirs! I, Song Mansik, this is my daughter, Song Seorin!”

 

Mansik forced a smile toward the intruders pressing down on his shoulders from both sides. It was the desperate flattery of someone who had submitted to violence.

 

Despite the pitiful sight, Seorin scanned the living room. Even after moving from a semi-basement studio with no sunlight to a showy apartment, being harassed by loan sharks remained unchanged.

 

“It’s past nine o’clock.”

 

A soft, clear voice came from her plump lips. Every time her dust-stained sneakers stepped on the floor, shards of glass crunched beneath.

 

“Coming for debt collection at this hour is illegal.”

 

Seorin spoke mechanically as she set her bag down on the dining table. Her body, worn out from working sixteen hours nonstop, felt like it might collapse from exhaustion.

 

Even so, instead of taking off her coat, she opened the refrigerator. Aside from the coffee she drank to stay awake, this would be her first meal of the day. She pulled out a couple of side dishes Mansik had left half-eaten and shut the fridge.

 

“If this is about debt, come back after eight in the morning.”

 

The cheap coat fluttered in the cold air seeping through the broken window. The situation was so familiar, she felt like dying rather than crying on the floor again.

 

“In ordinary cases, that would be true.”

 

A calm baritone voice was as cold as the container of side dishes she gripped tightly. As Seorin set the side dishes on the table, she slowly turned her head.

 

“Unfortunately, this isn’t about debt collection. We’re here to deliver a content-certified document. We met President Song around eight o’clock this evening in front of the house.”

 

The suited men parted like the Red Sea. A middle-aged man stepped confidently on the shards of glass. His crane-like upright posture seemed far removed from that of a mere loan company executive.

 

“Therefore, this visit is not illegal, Ms. Song Seorin.”

 

Wearing half-rimmed glasses, he adjusted his clothes. Not a single button on his sharply tailored suit was undone, and his upright posture stood out. Grey hairs in his thick hair and fine wrinkles around his eyes added to his composed aura.

 

“Apologies for the late introduction. Let me formally greet you.”

 

The man who had likely ordered others to throw and smash everything in sight bowed his head slowly. A strong scent of aftershave emanated from the hand offering his business card.

 

“I’m Kang In-sik, Chief Secretary of the Strategic Planning Division at Changgon Construction.”

 

The logo embossed on the stiff paper card rattled her light brown pupils.

 

A loan company that acquired failing businesses at rock-bottom prices to expand. A capital symbol that lent money not only to large corporations but also to banks. A rising chaebol that changed the tide of the Korean economy.

 

Changgon Group was the central force of industrial power—so powerful that even the president watched his step around them. It was also the company her father had proudly bragged about three years ago when he leased a seemingly impressive factory.

 

“Why would someone from Changgon come here…?”

 

“Three months ago, President Song received a loan from Changgon Bank, citing financial difficulties at Sehwa Industries.”

 

His cultured tone was courteous, yet veiled with blades. Cut down in pride, Seorin let out a dry sigh instead of a groan.

 

The man she couldn’t even bring herself to call “father” had caused trouble more than once or twice. As if he had a disease that would kill him if he couldn’t run a business, even when their house was marked with foreclosure stickers, he refused to give up the title of “President.”

 

Claiming he needed to save face with clients, he spent Seorin’s money like water—only to fall into debt again. He should have noticed her cold gaze by now, yet Mansik sniffled and didn’t even look at her.

 

“However, it seems he had no intention of repayment, as he attempted to flee during the night.”

 

“T-that’s not it, sir. Changgon hasn’t paid the supply—Aaargh!”

 

Just as he tried to excuse himself, shifting his hips, Mansik let out a scream. The men gripping his collarbone pinned his head to the floor.

 

“All parts supplied by Sehwa were found to be defective and couldn’t be used at the site, President. And yet you speak of payment?”

 

Amid his groans mixed with spit and the rustling of movement, Seorin stared at the suitcase lying on the floor. Her bankbook and seal welcomed her among the clothes inside. It felt like the old knock-off bag was digging into her shoulder.

 

“Our division director is greatly distressed by this incident.”

 

“P-please spare me, Chief. J-just one more chance—”

 

“Didn’t we already give you more than enough chances?”

 

Unlike Mansik, flailing like an overturned insect, Chief Kang remained calm. His slit-like eyes behind the glasses glinted oddly under the fluorescent light.

 

“If there’s anyone we’d give another chance to, it would be Ms. Song Seorin.”

 

His precise, clipped pronunciation tightened around Seorin’s throat. The stiff-edged business card stabbed the soft flesh of her palm.

 

“Why me…?”

 

“President Song used your credit as collateral for the loan.”

 

The polite answer struck Seorin’s throat like a frozen icicle. A sound close to dry laughter burst from between her reddish lips, like a cough. A familiar foreboding she had experienced countless times patted her back.

 

“…Is this a joint guarantee?”

 

“Strictly speaking, it’s a layered debt assumption, but you can think of it simply as a joint guarantee.”

 

So it’s possible to say “think of it simply” and “joint guarantee” in the same breath. Seorin let out a bitter laugh and bit down on her lower lip.

 

She had finally managed to crawl out of the gutter and see a sliver of sunlight. Thanks to working while cutting down on sleep, she had nearly paid off all the money Mansik had borrowed from the loan sharks. She could probably return to university next year.

 

But the joint guarantee dragged Seorin right back into the mire. She had only just found out that her father had taken out a loan from Changgon Bank—and was planning to flee in the night.

 

Her dry eyes began to burn as if scorched by fire, and soon moisture welled up. Turning her head, Seorin swallowed her sobs. She couldn’t even hear the alarm clock; in a situation where she slept curled up like a grub, dreams were a luxury.

 

“This matter is something the Director also deeply regrets. That’s why he’s considering discussing debt repayment methods with you, Ms. Song Seorin.”

 

Secretary Kang, who had been quietly listening to her increasingly rough breathing, continued generously.

 

“Director Sa Taejeong is waiting. Go have a cup of tea with him and talk things through.”

 

The one who had destroyed her home now casually extended a helping hand. But this wasn’t a suggestion. If the Director was waiting, there was no way Song Seorin had any choice.

 

“If I don’t go… what happens…?”

 

“The Director is waiting for you, Ms. Song Seorin.”

 

At the low and resolute tone, Harim tightly shut her eyes. She had grown used to violence, thanks to her father, and wasn’t scared of that anymore—but she had no immunity to pressure dressed in a suit.