TIOAWN Chapter 19

Thud. A man in his mid-30s stepped out of the taxi, rubbing his tired face with his hand and adjusting his crooked tie.  

 

“Running me ragged like this. What a joke—public authority is a goner these days.”  

 

The dazzling neon lights swirling around him only increased his fatigue. He rubbed the back of his neck.  

 

Taking out a cigarette from his pocket, he was about to light it when a man in his mid-40s, dressed in a suit, approached him.  

 

“Are you Prosecutor Park Seung-ho?”  

 

When he nodded, the man added, “They’re waiting for you. Please, come inside.”  

 

He hadn’t even lit the cigarette yet. Damn. Pushy as hell.  

 

Spitting on the ground, Seung-ho tossed the cigarette roughly and stepped inside. The loud music seemed like it would tear his ears apart, but thankfully, the hallway the man led him down was quiet.  

 

So quiet, in fact, that it felt as if the noisy world he’d just passed through had been nothing but a dream.  

 

Knock, knock.  

 

“Vice President, Prosecutor Park is here.”  

 

The voice carried an over-the-top level of formality, as though they were announcing the arrival of some kind of corporate chairman. Annoyed, Seung-ho stepped inside, leaving the man who had escorted him waiting by the door.  

 

The person waiting inside had a soft, heart-shaped fringe, an expensive wristwatch that was nearly impossible to get domestically, and a tailored suit that fit perfectly, undoubtedly custom-made from a tailor’s shop.  

 

Though such attire seemed excessive for a man barely in his mid-20s, Song Woo-jin wore it with ease, as if accustomed to it.  

 

His posture was arrogant—legs crossed, shoulders leaned back against the sofa—and when he greeted the prosecutor of the Republic of Korea with nothing more than a nod, it seemed downright insulting.  

 

“I heard you’re from Chuncheon District Prosecutors’ Office.”  

 

Even before Seung-ho could sit, Woo-jin spoke first.  

 

Judging from his complete lack of patience, he was clearly young. That was all Park Seung-ho needed to assess him.  

 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Park Seung-ho.”  

 

“Oh, you’re pretty stiff, huh?”  

 

Woo-jin let out a faint chuckle, then poured a drink without asking, offering it to Seung-ho. “Right one? Left one? Or are you into the expensive stuff?”  

 

“How do you like your new posting at the Central District Prosecutors’ Office?”  

 

Having downed two consecutive drinks, Woo-jin casually swirled his glass with one hand. Lifting the corners of his mouth in a lazy smile, he leaned forward, resting his chin on the table.  

 

“Isn’t it odd? Your record’s not exactly stellar, yet here you are at Central. Doesn’t add up, does it?”  

 

Seung-ho frowned as unease crept in.  

 

“Are you starting to see who’s in charge now, Prosecutor Park Seung-ho?”  

 

Woo-jin laughed brightly. His smile was more radiant and dazzling than any neon sign.  

 

“I have a job for you in Wonju. Do you want to handle it after returning to Chuncheon, or would you prefer to do it while staying all polished at Central?”  

 

“A job in Wonju?”  

 

Seung-ho frowned, showing clear displeasure, but he didn’t look away from Woo-jin’s gaze.  

 

“There was an accident—not a huge deal, but still. Since the safety regulations for dismantling scaffolding were violated and there are serious injuries involved, someone’s going to have to take major responsibility, right?”  

 

In short, he had a target he wanted to take down. Seung-ho wondered who this arrogant young man had in mind.  

 

After a brief hesitation, Seung-ho calmly accepted the glass Woo-jin handed him.  

 

The whiskey, thick with ambition, tasted especially bitter and intense.  

 

***

 

She had been sitting in silence for a while when she recalled Moo-geon’s words, telling her to eat the cherries. Cautiously, she brought a cherry to her lips. One, two, three. She forgot her situation and was just about to take the fifth cherry when—  

 

“They found your father, Seo Myung-sik.”  

 

Moo-geon’s voice suddenly cut through the air.  

 

Thud. Roll.  

 

The cherry that had been on its way to Ha-yoon’s lips lost its path and fell to the floor. Ha-yoon’s heart seemed to twist alongside it.  

 

“Ah, ah.”  

 

Sliding off her seat at the dining table, she bent over to pick it up, but Moo-geon said nothing. His black eyes, devoid of any emotion, brushed over her coldly.  

 

The cherry, which looked out of place on the marble floor, felt like it would leave a blemish. Hastily, Ha-yoon grabbed it with her hand.  

 

“Put it on.”  

 

Moo-geon’s voice was so cold and devoid of warmth it made Ha-yoon’s hair stand on end, like the chill of a desert night.  

 

“You have to go confirm it.”  

 

Those words sounded more like a command not to run away and to go find her father.  

 

From the beginning, Ha-yoon had no choice in the matter.  

 

In the end, she put her arms through Moo-geon’s coat sleeves and followed him.  

 

Even though she wore slippers at the entrance, the chill seeped into her soles.  

 

From stepping out the front door, to taking the elevator down, to finally getting into the car, everything happened in a seamless flow.  

 

Even when she spotted familiar faces greeting them at the entrance, she didn’t spare them a proper glance.  

 

All she did was clutch the cherry tightly in her hand and fidget with her fingers as she sat in the passenger seat beside Moo-geon.  

 

“We’ll depart now.”  

 

“The destination is—”  

 

Ha-yoon, tense and nervous, couldn’t hear Kang-heon’s voice reporting in or Moo-geon’s voice confirming their location.

 

You found my dad?

 

Her clear pupils briefly shone as if tinged with color, then immediately dimmed and sank into darkness.

 

When she subtly turned her head, Moo-geon’s jawline came into view. The sharp angle of his jaw was visibly tense. Realizing that he was suppressing his anger, Ha-yoon quickly lowered her gaze.

 

Her eyes fell on the red cherry still in her hand, and she was reminded of how it had stirred her mouth earlier, making her cheeks flush once again. The heat that had unsettled her vanished, replaced by a cold chill that seemed to weigh down the entire space.

 

Her long lashes fluttered lightly.

 

So, what’s going to happen to Dad now?

 

Are they going to kill him?

 

No, they said they wouldn’t kill him.

 

Ha-yoon squeezed her eyes shut.

 

“Yangyang.”

 

She finally processed the voice that had suddenly come from the front seat.

 

“Yangyang…”

 

At her faint murmur, Moo-geon reacted.

 

“You knew where he was?”

 

Realizing the question was directed at her, Ha-yoon quickly met his gaze but immediately regretted it. In his pitch-black pupils, her existence wasn’t even a flicker.

 

His eyes, filled solely with distrust and anger, bore into her, questioning her.

 

“I didn’t know. Truly.”

 

She didn’t even know where Yangyang was. She had spent her entire life at home—how could she know where that place was?

 

Despite her denial, Moo-geon’s expression didn’t relax. If anything, it seemed to worsen.

 

Ha-yoon bit her lips nervously.

  

 

— Seo Ha-yoon, your paintings. How many have you drawn? Huh?

 

Startled, Ha-yoon trembled at the sudden voice that stabbed into her memory.

 

Her father would definitely grab her shoulders and yell at her. After that, she might end up locked in her room again.

 

Could this man stop that from happening?

 

Absurdly, Ha-yoon found herself thinking such thoughts for a moment.

 

Amidst the fierce intensity of the man who was so determined to capture her father, she wondered if she could somehow find a small space to breathe.

 

Moo-geon quietly observed Ha-yoon. He was briefly considering how to use Seo Ha-yoon to bring Seo Myung-sik to his knees.

 

“CEO Kang rented a greenhouse near the beach and apparently Seo Myung-sik has been bringing people there from various places.”

 

“So?”

 

“Previously, there were occasional rumors about him traveling between Yangyang and Seoul, but recently someone reported seeing him at CEO Kang’s greenhouse.”

 

As the conversation unfolded, Ha-yoon gulped nervously. The air inside the car felt too heavy and stifling for her to breathe.

 

Still, she had to endure it. She knew well enough that this wasn’t a situation where she could speak up.

 

Her heart continued to sting, and breathing became increasingly difficult. Ha-yoon clutched the cherry tightly.

 

Her body, rigid with tension, gradually relaxed under the warmth around her. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, her eyelids grew heavy and began to lose their strength. Ha-yoon fought desperately to stay awake.

 

Outside the car window, tall buildings passed by in an unending stream. Distracted by the unfamiliar scenery, Ha-yoon turned her gaze to the window and took in the view. Moo-geon didn’t miss that small movement.

 

“Someone said they saw him?”

 

The question was directed at Kang-heon, but Moo-geon’s gaze remained fixed solely on Ha-yoon.

 

“Unfortunately, we don’t have anyone planted on CEO Kang’s side, so it wasn’t directly witnessed. My apologies.”

 

“And?”

 

“We obtained this information just yesterday, so it’s highly credible.”

 

At Moo-geon’s lowered voice, Kang-heon cleared his throat and spoke more firmly.

 

Tap, tap.

 

Moo-geon drummed his finger on the leather seat as he continued to stare at the back of Ha-yoon’s head. Her head, which had been pressed against the window without moving, began to tilt slightly before finally drooping down.

 

Her head, half-raised, kept bobbing up and down as if someone were pulling it. Thud, thud. Occasionally, it even lightly hit the car window.

 

“Ha.”

 

Moo-geon let out a shallow, exasperated sigh.

 

She’s dozing off? In a situation like this?

 

Kang-heon’s ongoing report barely registered in his ears.

 

Seo Myung-sik this, Seo Myung-sik that. Countless times he had thought about strangling the man’s life out, yet all his attention remained on Ha-yoon, seated beside him.

 

As the buildings outside grew shorter and the scenery became starkly monotonous, Kiseok abruptly turned the steering wheel. The car jolted, and Ha-yoon, unable to maintain her balance, leaned over and collapsed onto Moo-geon’s thigh.

 

Still rubbing her eyes in her sleep, she burrowed into his embrace.

 

Her breathing, deep and even, was undeniably Seo Ha-yoon’s.

 

“My apologies.”

 

Despite Kiseok’s apology, Moo-geon didn’t so much as blink. The hand he had raised, as if ready to strike, ultimately hovered just above Ha-yoon’s face without touching her.

 

Contrary to his tumultuous emotions, the car sped smoothly along, reaching Yangyang in no time.