PEN Vol 5 Ch. 5

“Well, fortunately, that didn’t happen. You all seem to understand where the power comes from. Some even came to me, hoping to become like Director Han.”

Shin Gyoyeon let out a hearty laugh, as if genuinely amused, adding, “Without knowing their place.”

He stood up and reached out. He grabbed Han Jonghyun’s hair roughly, yanking his head around to face the executives.

The air thickened with tension. In the suffocating silence, only Han Jonghyun’s whimpers could be heard.

“Please… please spare me…”

“He was the one who got ahead of himself…”

Shin Gyoyeon’s voice turned icy cold. He pressed down on Han Jonghyun’s head, forcing him to his knees.

Thud. 

Han Jonghyun’s legs buckled, and he clutched at Shin Gyoyeon’s pants. Oblivious to the pain of his scalp being pulled, he pleaded in a hoarse voice, his head bowed,

“President… President… please… sob… s-spare me…”

But no one heeded his pleas. Shin Kyoyeon roughly shoved Han Jonghyun aside, straightened his clothes, and turned around. His indifferent gaze fell on Cheon Sejoo. Understanding the silent command, Cheon Sejoo swallowed hard and stepped forward.

Positioning himself behind Han Jonghyun, he grabbed his hair, just as Shin Gyoyeon had done, and forced him to look up. Bloodshot, tear-filled eyes stared up at him. Han Jonghyun’s lips moved when he saw Cheon Sejoo. 

Save me. 

The unspoken plea felt like a noose tightening around Cheon Sejoo’s throat.

“Where do you think the money you eat, drink, and wear comes from?”

Shin Gyoyeon asked, feigning curiosity. He smiled, a crease forming between his brows, and sat back down, continuing in a leisurely tone,

“Of course, the organization exists because of you. But before that, you are able to maintain your positions because of the organization. We give you power, rights, a livelihood… That’s what the organization does, isn’t it?”

Please spare me. It wasn’t me. I never betrayed you. 

Han Jonghyun whimpered and mumbled incessantly, but his pleas were drowned out by Shin Gyoyeon’s voice. Even when he strained his voice, it was too weak. Judging by the marks on him, it seemed Baek Sunghwan had already dealt with him.

Ignoring Shin Gyoyeon, Cheon Sejoo stared down at Han Jonghyun with cold eyes.

This was what they meant when they warned him not to get close to Han Jonghyun. Chae Beomjun, Shin Gyoyeon… they already knew this would happen to Han Jonghyun. But since when?

Why had Han Jonghyun betrayed Shin Gyoyeon? After he had been so desperate, so eager for his family’s recognition…

Or perhaps, precisely because of that.

If Han Jonghyun had sided with Kang Junmyeon, who promised to utilize him, because he no longer wanted to waste time… Cheon Sejoo’s face paled. He remembered encountering Han Jonghyun at the beginning of winter, last November.

It hadn’t been a coincidence. He hadn’t been wandering around looking for drugs, but to meet with Kang Junmyeon…

“The reason I called you all here is simply to give you a warning. Know your place… don’t you agree?”

Shin Gyoyeon’s sharp voice snapped Cheon Sejoo back to reality. He looked to his side. Shin Gyoyeon was staring up at him. His penetrating gaze seemed to be asking him the same question. 

What are you thinking, forgetting your place?

Cheon Sejoo’s expression hardened and drew the sashimi knife from inside his jacket. The familiar weight of the handle in his hand was comforting.

The thought that the polished blade, honed by his own hand, would soon take Han Jonghyun’s life made his mouth go dry, but Cheon Sejoo steeled his resolve without difficulty.

Yes, he had done this countless times. He had to do as Shin Gyoyeon commanded. He had promised to dedicate the rest of his life to him in exchange for Hye-in’s revenge.

This was all…

“It’s… not true…”

But Han Jonghyun’s tearful denial plunged Cheon Sejoo into confusion.

Who was he doing this all for?

He couldn’t say it was for Hye-in. She would have never wanted this.

Hye-in had wanted him to become a good doctor, caring for the less fortunate. She would never have wanted him to become a monster who harmed others.

“If you want to challenge the organization, come to me.”

“Please, spare me…”

Then who was this for? Himself? 

But Cheon Sejoo didn’t want to do this either. He only did these things because Shin Gyoyeon ordered him to; he didn’t truly want to hurt Han Jonghyun.

The day he met Han Jonghyun at Ehwagak, listening to his story, Cheon Sejoo had empathized with and pitied him after hearing his story. But their connection had been fleeting, nothing more than a moment of shared understanding.

That’s why that brief, passing connection was now causing him this turmoil.

“That would at least yield a better outcome than this….”

“President… Ma… Manager Cheon! Cheon Sejoo!”

And when Han Jonghyun, finally cornered, uttered his name, Cheon Sejoo snapped back to reality.

Han Jonghyun’s terrified eyes met his. Just as a wave of revulsion, sharp enough to make his heart ache, washed over him, Han Jonghyun, clinging to Cheon Sejoo’s hand gripping his hair, spoke,

“Back then, I…”

“…….”

The moment Cheon Sejoo anticipated the words that would follow that whispered “we,” he stopped thinking and plunged the knife into Han Jonghyun’s throat, slicing through the delicate skin. The world turned red. His fingertips were soaked in warm liquid. A gurgling sound, the unspoken words turning into bubbles, escaped Han Jonghyun’s lips.

Shin Gyoyeon raised an eyebrow, looking at Cheon Sejoo. Meeting his gaze, Cheon Sejoo silently bowed his head. 

Clang. 

The sashimi knife he’d thrown clattered onto the floor, landing in a pool of blood. The gleaming blade quickly disappeared beneath the spreading crimson, its light extinguished, like a fading life.

Cheon Sejoo withdrew his bloody hand and released Han Jonghyun’s hair.

Thud. 

The body fell with a heavy sound, twitching and convulsing. Cheon Sejoo returned to his place behind Shin Gyoyeon and stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his face expressionless, gaze fixed forward. But despite his outward composure, his fingertips trembled faintly.

He knew what Han Jonghyun was about to say. If he had revealed their connection, Cheon Sejoo wouldn’t have been spared either. This killing hadn’t been ordered by Shin Gyoyeon. Cheon Sejoo had acted on his own volition, for his own safety. This was a first.

His first murders had been driven by revenge. When he was released from prison and given the opportunity, he had brutally killed his sister’s perpetrators, believing that even a life like his was better than death. They deserved to die.

But now…

He had acted solely on the assumption that something would happen to Sejin if he was found out, even though there was no guarantee. He had taken a life to protect another, as if it were the most natural thing in the world…

The fact that Han Jonghyun was already marked for death didn’t matter. Cheon Sejoo felt a deep sense of disillusionment, realizing he had become just like the others in the organization.

“Do I need to say more?”

While Cheon Sejoo struggled to regain his composure, clenching his trembling hands, Shin Gyoyeon wrapped things up. At his command, Baek Sunghwan and his men began searching the remaining executives. Those who had brought their phones without permission were called aside.

Shin Gyoyeon watched them, then suddenly turned to Cheon Sejoo. His sharp gaze pierced Cheon Sejoo, who stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his face a mask of indifference. He felt a cold sweat trickling down his spine under Shin Gyoyeon’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Manager Cheon.”

Perhaps because there were still others present, Shin Gyoyeon still wore his affable mask. Though its effectiveness was questionable at this point.

“Yes, President.”

Cheon Sejoo answered respectfully and met his gaze. Shin Gyoyeon looked strangely pleased. It was a disturbing expression to wear with a dead body at his feet, sending shivers down Cheon Sejoo’s spine. He suppressed his unease and lowered his head, and Shin Gyoyeon spoke again.

“I’ve felt this since the first time I saw you.”

“Yes.”

“You’re… a remarkably cold person.”

“…….”

Shin Gyoyeon’s expression remained unchanged, making it impossible to tell whether it was a compliment or mockery. Cheon Sejoo swallowed hard, and Shin Gyoyeon continued, a hint of amusement in his voice,

“You have no qualms about killing someone you’ve met multiple times. Director Chae could never do that…”

Multiple times. 

Did that include their encounter in the alley that day? Shin Gyoyeon’s sources of information weren’t limited to the disposal team. It wouldn’t be surprising if he already knew about that meeting.

Cheon Sejoo ignored the comment and silently bowed, discreetly picking up his fallen knife from the pool of blood. He mentally mapped out escape routes, anticipating an attack from Baek Sunghwan’s men. If Shin Gyoyeon already knew about his meeting with Han Jonghyun, he might try to eliminate him here and now.

“It seems your resolve hasn’t wavered.”

But as Cheon Sejoo wiped the blood from the blade with a handkerchief, his face impassive, Shin Gyoyeon continued.

At the mention of “resolve,” Cheon Sejoo silently gritted his teeth. A buried memory resurfaced. After committing his fifth murder for the organization, Cheon Sejoo had asked Shin Gyoyeon why he had brought him here. Shin Gyoyeon had countered,

‘I was curious to see how far a man who threw away his own life for his dead sister would go for revenge… Since the opportunity has presented itself, let me ask you. Cheon Sejoo, how far do you think you can go?’

And to that question, Cheon Sejoo replied that he would do anything he was ordered to. Because if he didn’t, everything would lose its meaning.

It seemed Shin Gyoyeon had taken that as a vow. Cheon Sejoo swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat and looked up at Shin Gyoyeon, meeting his indifferent gaze, and replied.

“That’s correct.”

At his curt reply, Shin Gyoyeon’s eyes crinkled in amusement. He laughed, a genuinely amused sound, and glanced down at the cooling body on the floor. A faint smile played on his lips as he muttered,

“There are a lot… of interesting things happening these days. In many ways…”

He turned to Cheon Sejoo, his gaze locking with his, and asked, his tone genuinely curious, just like the day he’d asked how far Cheon Sejoo could go,

“Which weighs heavier on your conscience, Manager Cheon?”

Shin Gyoyeon’s words often grated on Cheon Sejoo’s nerves. Usually, he would ignore them, but he couldn’t afford to now.

Moreover, his question mirrored the very thoughts that had been plaguing Cheon Sejoo. Answering it felt like tightening a noose around his own neck, so he feigned ignorance, shaking his head slightly.

“…I don’t understand what you mean.”

Shin Gyoyeon smirked and gestured towards Han Jonghyun. He asked again,

“Aren’t your hands shaking right now? Does your guilt stem from the fact that you killed a man? Or from the fact that you failed to become the doctor your beloved sister wished for, instead becoming a butcher who slaughters people? I’m sure you understand the difference without me explaining it.”

His leisurely tone made the words all the more impactful.

Shin Gyoyeon’s question was so insightful it felt as if he was peering into Cheon Sejoo’s soul. 

Who would think this man was a psychopath?

Seeing Cheon Sejoo’s hesitation, unable to answer immediately, reeling from the impact of his words, Shin Gyoyeon smiled knowingly. He stood up and spoke, answering his own question,

“I think it’s the latter, but I’m curious to hear your thoughts.”

“…….”

It wasn’t a question that required an answer. Shin Gyoyeon simply dropped that bombshell and walked away. Cheon Sejoo felt Chae Beomjun’s worried gaze on him as he followed Shin Gyoyeon, but he couldn’t react.

He looked down and saw Han Jonghyun’s lifeless body sprawled amidst the pool of blood. The corpse, eyes wide open, seemed to glare back at him, filled with resentment. The ripples in Cheon Sejoo’s mind, stirred by that gaze, grew into waves, crashing against his carefully constructed walls with increasing ferocity.