TTS Vol 1 Ch 2.2

Until the server arrived, Taeri engaged in light conversation with Park Chigyeong.

He asked the typical question about how her studies were going, and she gave a predictable answer. Park Chigyeong, entirely different from their first meeting, listened to her stories with a smile, nodding along as if truly interested.

After what felt like a brief moment that lasted fifteen minutes, the server knocked on the door.

Once Park Chigyeong gave permission, the server entered, quickly setting a beautifully plated meal on the table.

The hitsumabushi, served in a round donburi bowl, was a dish Taeri had never tried before. The server kindly explained the various ways to eat it before leaving the room.

As Taeri hesitated after hearing the explanation, Park Chigyeong, who had been watching her, set down his spoon and picked up a wooden spatula that had been provided. He then began dividing her eel rice bowl into four portions, continuing the explanation of how to eat it.

For the first portion, he recommended savoring the original flavor. The second, he suggested mixing it with the perilla leaves, green onions, and wasabi that came with it. For the third, he said to pour the broth over it and eat it as a soup, and for the final portion, to choose whichever of the three methods she had enjoyed the most.

“And that concludes our meal.”

When Taeri nodded, showing she understood, Park Chigyeong moved the wooden spatula to his own bowl, speaking in a calm voice.

“I’d also like us to finish our discussion before the meal ends.”

He casually brought up the main topic while dividing his own rice bowl into four portions.

“How much do you want?”

With that single, indifferent question, Taeri realized something. None of their conversation so far had been genuine.

He had merely closed the distance between them, laughed at her stories, and acted as if he were listening to her like a clown—all just to get her to answer this question.

Those smiles as he looked at her were fake. The gentle voice he directed at her was also fake. Every kindness he’d shown her was just pretense. It was all a facade.

As she thought about it that way, a sense of unfairness welled up inside her. It had been so long since she’d enjoyed a conversation with someone this much.

“I already told you, I don’t need money.”

Perhaps because of that, her mood suddenly plummeted, and that caused her voice to come out colder than usual, something she hadn’t intended.

Park Chigyeong, observing her, rummaged through the briefcase next to him and pulled out a notepad and a fountain pen.

“I understand you feel wronged, student. I know Sihyun has a lot of shortcomings. It’s my fault for not being able to properly educate my younger brother. Here I am, a prosecutor, and my brother is creating obscene photos of his classmate. How pathetic must that seem to you?”

Park Chigyeong lowered his gaze to the notepad, occasionally clicking his tongue, and began to write something leisurely.

“I also know you’d want to see our Sihyun get what he deserves. I know how deeply you were hurt. But like I said, my brother isn’t going to prison for something like this. That’s just how the law works in this country.”

The man before her was completely different from the one she’d first met. He kept his polite mask firmly in place, expertly sweet-talking and coaxing her.

Why is he doing all of this?

Why is he so eager to give me money?

Why?

Just why?

She remembered him mentioning someone in his family worked for the government. Who was it?

“That boy Sihyun is reflecting deeply on his actions.”

Park Chigyeong slowly raised his gaze from the notepad, meeting Taeri’s eyes, and slid the notepad over to her with two fingers.

Taeri lowered her gaze to the notepad that had been passed to her and read the number written there.

100,000,000. One hundred million won. That was the number written on the note.

100 million won: approximately 76,000 USD

“I’ll make sure to educate my younger brother more strictly from now on, and I’ll have him apologize to you properly. So, I’d appreciate it if you could let this go, just this once.”

“……”

“I understand the fiery spirit of youth that wants you to fight against injustice, but sometimes it’s better not to waste energy on certain battles.”

Just then, Park Chigyeong’s phone began to vibrate. He glanced down to check the screen of his phone.

“I believe we’ve shown enough sincerity on our end. If I cover this up, it’ll be over. Let’s end it here.”

Pressing the answer button, he pushed the pen towards her with a tone that was less of a suggestion and more of a command.

“Write your bank account information below. And eat. We’ll finish our satisfying meal and part ways with smiles in front of the restaurant.”

He recited predictable lines like he was reading a script in front of a camera, clearly eager to smooth things over quickly.

At that moment, Taeri felt anger. She wasn’t sure what she was angry about.

Was it the injustice she felt as a victim? Or was it the man’s indifferent and dismissive attitude towards her, so unlike her own sincere engagement in their conversation?

Meanwhile, the man answered the call, addressing the person on the other end as “assistant.” Given the quiet atmosphere inside the room, she could faintly hear the other person using political titles like “assemblyman” during the call. That instant, a memory flashed in her mind.

She recalled one of her classmates in the same department once mentioning something in secret. Park Sihyun’s father was a politician.

Who was it again?

Ah, right. Assemblyman Park Sangheon.

So, this was it. The reason he kept trying so hard to appease her with such kind words.

While Park Chigyeong continued his call, Taeri took out her phone and looked up information about Assemblyman Park Sangheon. As soon as he ended the call, she cut straight to the point.

“You’re doing all this because of Assemblyman Park Sangheon, right? Park Sihyun’s father. Your father. He’s about to be elected for his fourth term.”

“……”

“That’s why you’re offering a hundred million won to me keep quiet, isn’t it? If even one article got published about Assemblyman Park Sangheon’s son creating obscene images of a classmate, that fourth term would be in jeopardy. It’s a sensitive social issue, after all.”

Park Chigyeong’s gaze, which had been fixed on his phone screen, slowly rose to meet hers directly. His eyes had changed completely, it felt as sharp as a blade, as if it could cut through her skin. Yet, a part of her was strangely satisfied because she seemed to have caught the man’s attention. It was a childish, immature feeling.

As his threatening gaze accompanied by silence continued, her toes curled up involuntarily. She wanted to avoid his eyes, but at the same time, she didn’t. An inexplicable sensation stirred within her.
As she held his gaze for longer, Park Chigyeong’s expression began to distort noticeably.

She liked the way his face contorted in irritation. That was probably why she kept testing the man’s patience.

Perhaps taken aback by the unexpected turn of events, Park Chigyeong laughed. It was closer to a scoff, yet, for the first time, Taeri felt she saw a flicker of genuine emotion in his expression.

“Smart. I imagine you do well in school.”

“Better than Park Sihyun, at least.”

“Right. You’re definitely different from my younger brother. I’m truly glad, I think our conversation will flow much more easily now.”

Although his posture was already impeccable, he sat up even straighter, as if adding a touch of formality. It was exaggerated politeness, and she recognized the mockery in that gesture.

“You see, student, I’m someone who can create charges that don’t exist and put people in prison.”

“Are you saying you’ll send me to prison?”

“I’m saying you take the money. Let’s end this amicably.”

“I’m actually recording this. Our whole conversation, including all mentions of Assemblyman Park Sangheon.”

It was a lie, of course. But she pretended otherwise, deliberately placing her index finger over her phone, as if she were recording.

Taeri’s reason for going this far wasn’t all that grand. She simply wanted a reason to keep seeing the man a little more. If she accepted the money, she knew it would end here—she’d have no excuse to see him again. And a man like him would never waste time on someone as young as her.

“It’s just a matter of time before this hits social media if I press a button. I could even send it to a news outlet. These days, they take all their tips from social media.”

A sigh escaped him, and for a moment, it seemed as if the cool air itself carried his scent.

“I apologize, student. I thought you were a f*cking pushover.”

A crude curse, so unlike him, slipped effortlessly out his mouth.

Murmuring to himself, “Being blackmailed by a college kid, huh,” he chuckled softly and lowered his gaze. He closed his long, narrow eyes, his fingers moving to rub his temples as if he had a headache, but the motion seemed laced with irritation. Then, slowly raising his eyes, he smiled gently at her, his expression contrasted sharply with his previous gesture, and asked.

“May I ask why you’re going to such lengths? Even someone from a well-off family would usually be tempted by a hundred million won. Especially at your age. I just can’t understand it.”

“I already told you. I don’t need money.”

Ah, the man let out a deliberate sigh, sounding more like a mocking scoff.

“Yeah. You did say that. You didn’t need money. I didn’t realize you were from such a wealthy family that 100 million is a laughing matter. Then what is it that you want, student?”

His face had grown noticeably tenser, but he still maintained his composure. Park Chigyeong was a man of immense self-control, far more than she’d expected. The raw emotion she’d seen on their first encounter now felt like an act.

“If you offer me something else, I might consider a settlement.”

Something else. A different offer.

Park Chigyeong hummed thoughtfully, scratching his forehead with a finger as if in contemplation, but she knew it was just another sneer.

“What can I possibly offer? Besides money, all I’ve got is this healthy body of mine.”

“Then give me that.”

“What would you like me to give you?”

“Your body, sir.”

He rubbed his temples slowly, as if his head was pounding, and took a deep breath, visibly suppressing his emotions.

“Student.”

In a low, dangerous voice, Park Chigyeong smiled, his eyes gleaming with a cold glint. It was a chilling smile—one that might have been better had he not smiled at all.

“Do I really seem that amusing to you? Do kids these days entertain themselves by toying with people?”

“I’m not playing with you, sir.”

“You recorded our conversation and tried to blackmail me. Then you demanded my body instead of money. On our first meeting, you asked me whether a prosecutor could act this way toward a victim, and you even claimed you were the one being wronged. Let me ask you in return. How are you any different?”

“I believe I am different.”

“How so? To me, you seem exactly the same.”

“Because I want compensation for the humiliation I endured from Park Sihyun, the shame he should have paid for… if all of that has to be swept under the rug, then I’ll rather take what I can get instead of money. You should consider it as a bargain, sir.”

“Do you really understand what it means to ask for my body?”

“Yes, I know exactly what it means.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

A suffocating silence filled the room. After a moment, Park Chigyeong checked his watch, casually lifting his teacup. He tilted the cup to his lips, drinking the bitter tea slowly, letting it slide down his throat. After placing the teacup back on the table, he lowered the sleeves of his shirt he had rolled up earlier and fastened his cufflinks. His expression was deep in thought.

All of his movements were calm yet precise as if he were wielding a knife, and Taeri found herself wanting to emulate his unique presence.

Thus, observing him had become an oddly enjoyable pastime for her. In just two encounters, Park Chigyeong had already become that kind of person to Taeri.

“There’s a Walkerhill Hotel right next door.”

Walkerhill Hotel: This is a well-known luxury hotel in Seoul that is often associated with high-profile guests.