PEN Vol 4 Ch. 21

When Sejin woke up, it was just past 6 a.m. Opening his eyes in the dark room, he checked his phone next to his head and sat up abruptly.

He couldn’t believe he had slept for four hours. Sejin went into the bathroom attached to the room, washed his face, and tidied himself up. Then, he opened the door and peeked out towards the funeral hall.

He saw Cheon Sejoo sitting upright in the head mourner’s seat. He should be tired too, so he could be excused for looking disheveled, but Cheon Sejoo looked perfectly composed, as if he had just arrived at the funeral home.

Sejin stared at Cheon Sejoo, who was sitting with his eyes closed, then stepped outside. Sensing his presence, Cheon Sejoo slowly opened his eyes.

His cool gaze held unconcealed fatigue. Sejin approached Cheon Sejoo and quickly helped him up.

“Go inside and sleep. I’m okay now.”

“Eat first.”

“I can eat later.”

“Eat now.”

Cheon Sejoo was firm. In the end, Sejin nodded, thinking it was better to listen to him than to argue, and quickly went to the dining area. Kim Sunhee and the funeral assistants were having breakfast.

“Sejin, you’re up. Come on, let’s eat together.”

Kim Sunhee, spotting him, got up and headed to the kitchen. Sejin sat among them and quickly finished his breakfast. He immediately ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth and then returned to the funeral hall.

“I’m done eating. Go in.”

“Okay.”

Cheon Sejoo gave a small smile and stood up. Before going into the room, he helped Sejin up, straightened his tie and clothes, and then turned around.

Left alone in the empty funeral hall, Sejin leaned against the wall, hugging his knees. He buried his face in his knees, then, after a long while, lifted his head.

His dazed gaze landed on the floral arrangements. For the first time since arriving at the funeral home, Sejin looked at his mother’s portrait.

He still couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that the person who seemed like she would smile and call him “my son” at any moment had now crossed a river from which she could never return.

Sejin bit his lip hard to hold back the tears welling up. Pressing his temples with his hands, he stared at Kim Hyunkyung’s picture nestled among the flowers.

Regret kept washing over him.

I should have paid more attention to Mom when she was at Ehwagak. I should have asked her if she was feeling unwell. I shouldn’t have snapped at her when she was in the hospital. I shouldn’t have fought with her when she refused treatment. 

Almost every moment he’d let slip by now filled him with regret.

And with it, resentment kept surfacing. Sejin kept replaying and digging into the past, wondering what had driven his innocent mother to her death. The person Sejin resented the most was the man who was his father and Kim Hyunkyung’s husband, Kwon Yongbeom.

Sejin couldn’t contain his anger at the thought that if it weren’t for that man, his mother wouldn’t have died like this. The memory of his mother suffering in pain brought tears to his eyes, but the thought of Kwon Yongbeom ignited a murderous rage. He hated the man so much that he vowed to strangle him to death if he were ever in front of him.

The next people he resented were the bastards who had burdened his mother with enormous debt. The despicable human scums of Shinsa Capital.

It was clear that Kwon Yongbeom had made Kim Hyunkyung a guarantor without her consent. But Shinsa Capital had turned a blind eye and, as soon as the due date arrived, they dragged her to Ehwagak as if they had been waiting for it.

Sejin could still vividly remember the day he parted ways with his mother. Kim Hyunkyung, arguing with the men who had come first, shouting that she had never signed any guarantees, was then confronted by another group of thugs who arrived at their doorstep.

They seemed to engage in a brief standoff before a small fight broke out. In the process, their semi-basement room was wrecked and Kim Hyunkyung burst into tears. But that wasn’t the end. The thugs, having seemingly come to a conclusion amongst themselves, grabbed Kim Hyunkyung and tried to drag her away.

Sejin had thrown himself at the thugs, screaming for them to let his mother go, but a mother and son were no match for them.

Sejin, Sejin, Mom’s okay, so stay home. 

Recalling Kim Hyunkyung’s voice, comforting him until the very end as she got into the van, he understood the true meaning of trembling with rage. Just thinking about that day made his whole body shudder. It was a memory that was both miserable and horrifying.

If there was one good thing about Kim Hyunkyung’s passing, it was that she no longer had to endure such things ever again. There’s a saying, “It’s better to roll in a dunghill than be in the afterlife,” so he wasn’t sure if she would agree, but Sejin certainly believed so.

Staring at the portrait, Sejin tried to remember Kim Hyunkyung when she was healthy. Because the days of her suffering had overwritten many of his happier memories, recalling her healthy image was harder than he thought.

He stared intently at the portrait and tried to remember the day it was taken. It must have been… the day they went for a walk in Olympic Park after watching an early morning movie on a weekend. 

What movie did we see? 

Just as Sejin was searching his memory…

“Hey, hey, show some respect. Show some respect.”

A rough voice came from outside. 

A mourner? 

Sejin, who had been sitting in a daze, straightened his posture and turned his head.

Several men were standing in front of the funeral hall, where the condolence money was being received. They were all large and dressed in suits. 

Does Mom know these people? 

Sejin stared at them silently.

Meanwhile, the men placed their envelopes in the box and signed the guestbook. Then, as if following someone’s instructions, they went inside the funeral hall in a single line.

Sejin watched the scene blankly. And when he finally remembered where he had seen the bald man at the front, Sejin grimaced and stood up.

It was the man he had seen at Shinsa Capital. The men behind him were also the thugs he had seen there, and some of them were the ones who had dragged Kim Hyunkyung to Ehwagak. A wave of intense disgust washed over him, and his blood boiled.

“What are… you doing here?”

His cold voice echoed through the funeral hall. Kim Donggil, noticing Sejin, nodded his head and approached him. Putting on a pretense of solemn air, he patted Sejin’s shoulder.

“It’s a shame, such a young person losing their mother. But she passed peacefully, so don’t grieve too much.”

At those words, Sejin felt his eyes roll back. 

Passed peacefully? 

Kim Hyunkyung’s passing was anything but peaceful. She died in agony, writhing in pain, intoxicated with painkillers, tears streaming down her face, unable to even properly utter the words “I love you.”

The man’s ignorant words sent a surge of heat to the top of Sejin’s head. Blinded with rage, he raised his fists. 

Thwack, thwack. 

Shoving Kim Donggil’s shoulders, Sejin pushed him back. His voice, filled with anger, erupted like a scream.

“Get out of here…! Get lost…!”

“Hey, hey, kid. Do you think we did this to your mother out of spite? We were just doing our jobs to make a living. Getting angry here won’t help. The more people who pay their respects, the more peacefully your mother will rest. We’ll be quick, so just bear with us a little longer.”

Despite Sejin’s outburst, Kim Donggil didn’t get angry. With a bitter smile, he explained their position and spoke in a tone that sought to soothe Sejin. This sight only fueled Sejin’s anger even more. It was because Kim Donggil seemed to genuinely wish for his mother’s soul. 

He didn’t deserve to. They didn’t have the right, not them…. 

His heart pounded as if it would burst. Disgust and hatred filled every inch of his being.

“You work to make a living? Who do you think will understand that? My mother, even if she didn’t have a penny to her name, my mother wouldn’t live like you!!”

The anger that had reached its peak flowed down as resentment. He tried to hold back the tears by biting his tongue, but it was no use. Tears streamed down Sejin’s cheeks.

“Do you think everyone who’s poor earns their living in a disgusting way like you? Most people, even without a single penny, wouldn’t even consider ripping others off! You say you ‘work to make a living’? You’re boasting about that?”

As his sharp accusations flew towards them, Sejin’s insides twisted in knots. It pained him to even utter these words. He didn’t want to understand their circumstances, to explain the obvious. Clenching his fists, Sejin shoved Kim Donggil’s shoulders again, driving him out of the funeral hall.

“Get out! Get lost! My mother died because of you! How dare you come here!! We don’t need your condolences!”

Sejin screamed, the pent-up resentment that had been festering inside him erupted, directed towards the nearest target. He wanted to kill them all. The sight of these people, who preyed on others, acting like normal people inside the funeral hall, was repulsive and horrifying.

“Get out of my sight, please!!”

At his desperate cry, Kim Donggil scratched his cheek with an embarrassed expression. 

At that moment, the door to the family room opened, and Cheon Sejoo appeared. His face, etched with deep fatigue, was cold. His dark, sunken eyes scanned the room. His expression hardened at the sight of the men awkwardly standing there.

“What are you doing here?”

His frigid voice carried a sense of pressure. Sejin, who had been gasping for breath, turned his head in shock by the familiar voice. His lips trembled and his breathing slowed as if time had stopped. His confused eyes fixed on Cheon Sejoo.

Ah, I forgot. Cheon Sejoo was one of them.

The realization hit him like a blow to the chest, tearing his heart apart.