SU | Chapter 2.7

At this late hour, the auntie tidying up the shop became busier with the appearance of the Director from the next building.

“You’re late for dinner today! How about I prepare something to drink?”

“Just bring it as you see fit.”

Yoohan, rubbing his chest, raised his hand.

“Auntie, I’ll have the bulgogi jeongol…”

The auntie, who was about to take the order and leave, glanced back at Yoohan. Bulgogi jeongol was one of the most expensive dishes on the menu.

“Are you sure about bulgogi? It takes a bit longer, is that okay?”

Ji Youngwon narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Just make it as much as I eat, so figure it out.”

The phrase “figure it out” was a subtle threat. A person with plenty of money could be so stingy… After a brief moment of thought, Yoohan proposed an alternative.

“I can take the leftovers home, right? That way, I can have two meals, or if I save it, I can stretch it to three meals, so it’s not that expensive.”

The auntie, who had been observing the ambiguous conversation, headed to the kitchen. Ji Youngwon leaned back in his chair, looking exasperated.

“I’ve never seen someone more pathetic than you in my life.”

“I may be pathetic, but you have plenty of money.”

“Just because I have a high title doesn’t mean I have a lot of money.”

“If you’re a building owner, you must have money, right?”

“Who said that? Did Gu Kangsan run his mouth again?”

“No… Why do you keep bringing up Manager Kangsan?”

This time, Yoohan genuinely felt wronged and snapped back. As he tightened his grip on the cup, water spilled over.

“You have a knack for guessing. Your intuition is quite sharp.”

Ji Youngwon chuckled and pulled a cigarette from his pocket.

Startled, Yoohan quickly scanned his surroundings. What kind of restaurant allows smoking…? But it seemed he was the only one surprised—no one stopped Ji Youngwon. His presence, effortlessly commanding no matter where he was, felt natural, almost expected.

As he lit the cigarette, a staff member promptly brought over an ashtray. Although the restaurant was empty of customers, Yoohan felt restless, clearing his throat unnecessarily.

Ji Youngwon took a few slow drags, his cheeks hollowing out with each inhale, before finally continuing to speak.

“Is it frustrating that a building owner with a director title can’t even eat bulgogi jeongol freely?”

He chuckled at his own joke, shaking his shoulders. Yoohan looked at Ji Youngwon, who was laughing, with a puzzled expression.

“Honestly, I do feel like it’s a bit petty, but it doesn’t seem that bad to try to save even a penny. I’m a frugal person too…”

Ji Youngwon shook his head, still smiling.

“You have no problem saying that in front of your employer who’s treating you to dinner.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yoohan’s apology lacked sincerity. Ji Youngwon, unfazed, took another drag from his cigarette. He scrutinized Yoohan’s face without hesitation. Under the glaring white lights, his nose and cheeks looked almost painted white. Below that, his soft lips twitched, as if trying to start a conversation.

What else are you going to say to turn my insides upside down? Ji Youngwon turned his face to the side and exhaled a puff of smoke.

“But Director, if you think about it, I’m also your employer, right? Since you took on my request.”

“Yeah, yeah. You win. I really want to kill you.”

As expected, his way of speaking was astonishing. Perhaps the humor had worn off, as Ji Youngwon carelessly extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray.

Yoohan tore off a piece of tissue and set a spoon and chopsticks in front of Ji Youngwon.

Ji Youngwon accepted the gesture as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But suddenly, curiosity struck him.

How had this kid ended up here, serving at his table? It was rare to find someone seeking values beyond money, and that piqued his interest.

“You said you’re looking for a 14k item. Why are you so eager to find something that isn’t worth much?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. What other money kid would come to a detective agency asking for a 14k item?”

Yoohan pouted.

“Because it’s something meaningful… It’s my mom’s heirloom ring.”

Ji Youngwon’s face twisted coldly.

“Do you think that will bring your dead mother back?”

That was a brutally irreverent remark. Yoohan’s hand, which had been rummaging through the spoon container, froze. He seemed so shocked that he could only open and close his mouth for a while without any further response.

Ji Youngwon reached out to the auntie who was bringing out the soju. He received the green bottle and effortlessly twisted off the cap. Yoohan quickly extended his hand.

“Oh, I’ll pour it for you.”

Ji Youngwon raised an eyebrow. Despite having just insulted him to his face, Yoohan seemed surprisingly unfazed. For someone who had been raising his voice about not wanting to take on the request, his reaction was oddly lackluster.

“Looks like you have no pride, our bellboy.”

Ji Youngwon watched Yoohan, who always defied expectations, with curiosity.

“I really like bulgogi jeongol.”

This time, an unexpected response popped out. Ji Youngwon realized that Yoohan was consciously avoiding the topic of his deceased mother.

“Please raise your soju glass. I’ll pour it for you.”

Yoohan was well-versed in the etiquette of drinking. One of the more useful skills he had picked up from the hard-knock life on construction sites was knowing how to handle drinks. It was all about moving quickly—filling the glasses of the higher-ups before they ran dry.

There was a time when, after a long day of grueling work, he would tag along with the older guys to a soju place, enjoying a hot pot or grilling meat. That was the one small joy in his weary life.

Ji Youngwon watched Yoohan as he politely poured drinks, his gaze lingering on the slight flare of Yoohan’s nostrils. Since the mention of his mother, Yoohan’s expression had noticeably hardened. The melancholy he couldn’t quite hide seeped through the cracks of his tough facade.

Life was truly exhausting. Just looking at him—sitting here without a care in the world—made that clear.

In a fleeting moment, he felt an absurd sense of kinship with someone who bore no resemblance to him—neither in looks nor in personality. Shaking his head at the sudden sentiment, Ji Youngwon couldn’t help but feel a bit self-deprecating.

Once Yoohan confirmed that his glass was full, he leaned back again. Just then, an auntie approached the table and set down a pot of bulgogi hot pot on the gas burner. At the sight of the delicious dish piled high with enoki mushrooms, Yoohan’s eyes curved into crescent moons.

“How old are you again?”

Ji Youngwon set down the soju he had received without taking a sip. Yoohan’s eyes twitched at the unexpected question.

“Twenty-one.”

At twenty-one, he was eleven years younger than Ji Youngwon. Ji Youngwon stared at Yoohan’s poreless skin, still untouched by the harshness of life. He had been the same age when he first sent someone to prison. Those were days filled with nothing but bitterness.

Feeling the weight of Ji Youngwon’s gaze, Yoohan awkwardly scratched his thigh. He might get a concerned reprimand from Manager Gu Kangsan—something along the lines of, “How did a kid like you end up here?” But for some reason, he didn’t want to hear that from Ji Youngwon.

Ever since their first encounter in the bathroom, a strange sense of pride had taken root in him—one that made him want to hide his story from Ji Youngwon, even though he could share it without hesitation in front of Manager Gu. Those pitch-black eyes seemed to strip him bare, making shame rise within him.

Except for his childhood, Yoohan had never felt ashamed of his poverty. When a person is truly destitute, even the awareness of their situation can feel like a luxury. The life Yoohan had lived was one where self-pity was a waste of time.

So it was strange. Whether Ji Youngwon called him a beggar or not, the real him shouldn’t have been affected.

Avoiding Ji Youngwon’s piercing gaze, Yoohan instinctively looked away. Just then, Ji Youngwon’s indifferent voice landed above him.

“Yeah. That’s how you live.”

Yoohan’s hand, which had been fiddling with his chopsticks, froze. It took him a few seconds to grasp what Director Ji Youngwon was saying.

“Whether it’s a feast or a famine, that’s how you live. Kids like us, who have nothing, can’t afford to be picky about how we survive.”

Yoohan held his breath for a moment, locking eyes with Ji Youngwon. The hot pot bubbled away, filling the air with a delicious aroma. As the sound of the broth boiling grew louder, so did the commotion in Yoohan’s heart.

“You did well today. For someone who was thrown in unexpectedly, your improvisation wasn’t bad.”

“Ah….”

“I can’t let you go off on your own anymore, though.”

Feeling a bit strange, whether it was from hunger or Ji Youngwon’s cryptic words, a fluttering sensation stirred in his stomach, like butterflies dancing around.

Ji Youngwon picked up an extra soju glass next to the spoon holder and poured a generous amount of soju into it. The glass was filled to the brim and placed in front of Yoohan.

“Drink.”

Before Yoohan could even respond, Ji Youngwon emptied his own glass first. Still in a daze, Yoohan rubbed his chest and lifted his soju glass. The sweet alcohol touched his tongue, but as it slid down his throat, a strong bitterness surged up.

Shuddering, Yoohan slammed the glass back onto the table. The alcohol, hitting his empty stomach, burned a fiery path from his esophagus down to his gut.

The strange sensation faded away with the bitterness of the alcohol. The sweet and savory aroma of the hot pot, which he hadn’t noticed before, now tickled his nostrils. Yoohan licked his lips and rummaged through the pot.

Meanwhile, Ji Youngwon pulled out his phone from his pocket and checked a message from Executive Director Gu.

“You handled President Sung well. I’ll look into the route you mentioned soon. Get some rest, Director.”

Ji Youngwon rubbed his forehead, looking tired. Yoohan gazed at him, drawn in by the effortless ease he exuded. It didn’t take long for the alcohol to kick in, and soon, his face began to heat up.

This was another strange feeling. Usually, when he drank, his complexion would turn pale, as if dusted with powder. So it couldn’t be just the alcohol making him feel this way.

The tingling sensation he thought had faded came back to life. Why was his heart racing so fast?

“Yeah. That’s how you live.”

Instead of offering pity or advice, Ji Youngwon chose to give a compliment that felt more like encouragement. For the first time, the man who had tossed him an ion drink at the convenience store and the current Ji Youngwon overlapped in his mind.

“Turn down the gas.”

Ji Youngwon frowned at the overflowing hot pot. Snapping out of his thoughts, Yoohan hurriedly adjusted the gas. After ladling some into a bowl, he picked up his spoon. With his head down and without a word, he began to eat, and silence settled over the table.

Ji Youngwon emptied his soju glass without even touching the food. Yoohan, momentarily forgetting his obligation to refill the Director’s empty glass, buried his nose in his bowl.

Once his swirling emotions settled a bit, he finally lifted his head. Ji Youngwon was gazing out through the glass door, arms crossed.

“Director.”

“What?”

His gaze was still fixed outside.

“You didn’t answer me earlier. What happened to that person…?”

“Ha….”

Damn it, why are you so curious about that? A torrent of harsh curses rose to the tip of his tongue, but Ji Youngwon simply let out a sigh instead.

Yoohan felt like he had spoken for no reason and pressed his lips together in frustration. After a moment of contemplation with his eyes closed, Ji Youngwon suddenly kicked Yoohan’s shin.

“To cut to the chase, that guy is fine.”