Chapter 103

< The Right Person (3) >

***

Ssirum Club training ground.

Jin-hyeok, who had climbed the rope, slowly descended. He wasn’t just slowly coming down because it was hard—he was carefully shifting his weight, squeezing every ounce of strength from his arm muscles. His back and arm muscles, split and defined, glistened like jewels under the rising sun, sweat dripping down.

For Jin-hyeok, this was just another day, but for those watching, it was anything but ordinary.

‘Wow, the human weapon is something else.’

Moon Seok-il, who had been quietly observing, exhaled deeply, his cheeks puffing out. Jin-hyeok was already taller than him, and at that age, how did he manage to build such a body? At that age, I was probably sleeping in and getting scolded by my mom, he thought.

Students who had arrived early were giving the sunglasses-wearing man strange looks, but Moon Seok-il didn’t care. If he worried about what others thought, he wouldn’t be a pro.

Jin-hyeok, who had just descended from the rope, glanced at Moon Seok-il. Seok-il, caught off guard by the piercing gaze, instinctively stood at attention.

“Everyone okay?”

“Yeah, just some casts, hospital stays, you know. They’re all fine now.”

It was hard to answer while standing at attention.

Moon Seok-il, who had a cast on his right hand, was in the best condition. Jeong Sang-tae and Kim In-rang couldn’t chew food for a while, and Kang Heon-chang, who had six broken ribs, underwent surgery to drain the blood pooled inside his body. The doctor said it was a miracle his ribs hadn’t punctured his lungs, given the amount of blood inside.

“Did you find out anything?”

Last night, Jin-hyeok had received a call from Moon Seok-il, treating it like a call from a friend. Seok-il, not one to miss cues, had come to the school’s wrestling training ground at 7 a.m. as Jin-hyeok had instructed.

“I found out who ordered it.”

“And?”

Moon Seok-il had seen it before, but Jin-hyeok’s deep gaze was different from an ordinary person’s. It was as if a real, living tiger had transformed into a human. Maybe the grim reaper he’d seen before wasn’t an illusion but this guy himself. Maybe he was staying in the human world just to enjoy some games.

Jin-hyeok’s gaze was terrifying because he didn’t trust Moon Seok-il and his crew. Jin-hyeok wasn’t naive enough to easily forgive or trust those who had threatened his family.

Moon Seok-il was well aware of their precarious position.

They were no different from death row inmates granted a temporary reprieve.

“I let them know the job was done.”

Just as Jin-hyeok had instructed.

But.

“What if they come to check?”

Then you’ll be in danger too.

Understanding Jin-hyeok’s message, Moon Seok-il responded.

“Well, they might, or they might not.”

Though it was embarrassing to have been taken down by Jin-hyeok alone, Moon Seok-il and his crew were no pushovers. They were expensive, and they never failed a job.

“If they find out it’s a lie, you’ll be in trouble.”

“They probably already know. We just need to lay low.”

They wouldn’t take hostages like some people. Moon Seok-il swallowed the rest of his words.

Anyway, hiding was something Moon Seok-il was good at. If the person who hired them tried to make a move, they’d just disappear. And even if they succeeded, it was obvious they’d send another hitman. It’s like reusing dirty tissues—you just throw them away. That’s why they’d probably been tailed too.

“Once you do something like this, you have to lay low for a long time.”

That’s why they charge so much.

Jin-hyeok, stretching his arms to loosen his tense back muscles, nodded casually.

“My dad’s looking for people.”

He had been debating whether to say it or not.

Jin-hyeok needed people. Someone at Moon Seok-il’s level would be useful. After all, their families were already tied up as invisible hostages, so they wouldn’t try anything funny. And it’s easier to keep an eye on dangerous enemies when they’re right in front of you. Of course, he’d have to discuss it with his dad first.

“I’m making an offer.”

But Moon Seok-il read Jin-hyeok’s gaze differently.

This wasn’t an offer—it was an order.

“I’ll think about it.”

Summoning courage from his core, Moon Seok-il clung to his last shred of pride.

Jin-hyeok nodded.

It was still a positive response. He hadn’t expected much, but the fact that Moon Seok-il didn’t outright refuse was enough. There was plenty of room to improve their relationship.

‘I’ve instilled enough fear. Now it’s time to offer trust and mercy.’

Jin-hyeok pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over.

Moon Seok-il unfolded it to find the addresses and contact details of their families, written as if their lives depended on it.

“I didn’t write it down or memorize it.”

Moon Seok-il bit his lip. Physically beaten was one thing, but ever since their encounter at the hospital, he felt like he was mentally losing to this kid. Still biting his lip, he gave a slight nod, as if bowing, and turned to leave.

But Jin-hyeok’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“You still haven’t told me who ordered it.”

Is this guy trying to leave without paying the price?

Jin-hyeok already knew the answer, but he wanted to see if Moon Seok-il knew it too.

“Ah…”

Moon Seok-il awkwardly laughed and scratched the back of his head.

***

Autumn was deepening, and winter was approaching. The harsh sunlight of autumn had faded, and the wind was growing colder. Han Yu-young took Yu-jin out for a stroll in the neighborhood, pushing her in a stroller. A luxury car with Seoul license plates was parked in Jin-hyeok’s yard.

How lucky it is to have a dog in such a bleak situation.

Jang Gun-i, the dog, circled the four kneeling men as if teasing them.

Occasionally sniffing their behinds.

Son Kwang-yeon bit his lip at Jang Gun-i’s antics.

“Get up. Let’s talk standing up.”

“We can’t get up until you forgive us.”

Moon Seok-il had brought Kim In-rang, Jeong Sang-tae, and Kang Heon-chang, who had just been discharged, to see Son Kwang-yeon. They had knelt before him without warning while he was playing catch with Jin-hyeok in the yard.

Jin-hyeok, watching from a distance, frowned.

‘Why are they kneeling?’

Are they just old-fashioned people following old ways?

He had asked for a formal meeting with his dad for the future, but he never told them to kneel and beg for forgiveness.

This is so childish. Jin-hyeok turned his head away.

“Forgive you? I need to know what happened first.”

“We were hired by Daejeong Electronics CEO Park Woo-jung.”

Son Kwang-yeon’s face turned cold. Even though he already knew, hearing the names Daejeong and Park Woo-jung was still unsettling.

Moon Seok-il, with his head bowed, began to explain the details.

“…After tracing it back, we found Park Woo-jung, the eldest son of Park Woon-chul…”

He left out the part about how they had been “educated” by Jin-hyeok and come to their senses, but he confessed everything he knew. Unfortunately, the information Moon Seok-il could gather without harming anyone was limited.

For Jin-hyeok, it was a decent result. He could now be sure about both Park Woo-jung and Moon Seok-il.

Son Kwang-yeon, with his hands behind his back, gazed at the sunset for a moment.

‘Why did they treat me like someone who shouldn’t exist?’

He had heard that Park Woon-chul’s daughter, Park Yoon-young, born from his relationship with an actress over twenty years his junior, had jumped from an apartment in New York.

Even that had been quietly buried, not widely known in Korea, so despite suspicions of foul play, it had faded from public attention. Daejeong Group must have silenced the media, making the cover-up nearly perfect. There were rumors that Park Woon-chul’s health had deteriorated after Park Yoon-young’s death, but only he would know for sure. Timing-wise, it did align.

“So… are you saying you couldn’t go through with it because it was too dirty?”

“Well…”

Moon Seok-il felt a disconnect from the world in Son Kwang-yeon’s voice.

It was a shocking matter. Anyone who received an order to kill someone would naturally be gripped by fear. But Son Kwang-yeon, facing Moon Seok-il, remained composed. Was it because this wasn’t the first time? Fear doesn’t just fade like that, does it?

Not knowing Son Kwang-yeon’s personality, it was a natural reaction.

As if asking when he had turned cold or stiff, Son Kwang-yeon’s face returned to its usual calm.

‘Nothing new here.’

Having someone come forward to confess like this was certainly a new experience.

But he had lived under surveillance since childhood. After his mother passed away, he lived in near seclusion until adulthood. He entered college on a scholarship and stayed in the dormitory, so his only friends were Yoo Se-ra, whom he had known since childhood, and Hong Ki-jun, a college friend.

With his hands behind his back, Son Kwang-yeon urged them to continue while looking at the sunset.

“There must be another reason. If you’ve changed your mind, why come to me?”

“We still wanted to apologize and warn you of the danger.”

Moon Seok-il, though inwardly flustered by Son Kwang-yeon’s calm demeanor, kept his composure. Perhaps it was because he was the father of that extraordinary kid, he thought.

“I see. Get up. It’s not my place to forgive or not. But who am I to you, and why did they hire you? Did you find out?”

Son Kwang-yeon glanced at his son, who was standing expressionlessly in the distance. Jin-hyeok was pretending not to hear the adults’ conversation, tossing a baseball into the air and catching it with his glove repeatedly. The ball was flying unusually high, but that wasn’t surprising.

Moon Seok-il stood up and answered Son Kwang-yeon’s question.

“We haven’t found out yet.”

They had tracked Shin Sang-yeol and threatened him, but there was no useful information. Someone of that caliber was just the tip of the iceberg, a reminder that getting close to a big shot wasn’t easy.

“I see. You’ve come a long way. Stay for dinner.”

“Ah, we couldn’t—”

They tried to politely decline, but Son Kwang-yeon’s heavy voice pressed down on their shoulders.

“Stay.”

“Yes.”

Moon Seok-il and the men bowed deeply.

The tone was gentle, but there was an undeniable force behind it.

Moon Seok-il quietly speculated about Son Kwang-yeon’s identity.

‘This guy smells different too.’

He even wondered if he was related to Daejeong.

But.

‘No, there’s no resemblance.’

This is a big deal.

Hey, this… Are we going to choke on our food? Jeong Sang-tae muttered.

***

Moon Seok-il and his crew strolled by the stream with light hearts.

As they admired the blazing sunset, soaking in the rural atmosphere.

Son Kwang-yeon and his son washed away the emotional dust.

They had only vaguely mentioned various incidents before.

Jin-hyeok’s ears perked up. He had guessed the cause of the incident and why his dad lived in the countryside, but he had never had the chance to hear how his dad grew up.

“Sorry I haven’t told you until now. Are you upset?”

“No. There’s nothing to be upset about.”

“Our Jin-hyeok is so mature and deep, that’s why I didn’t say anything.”

If he were an ordinary kid, he would’ve asked every holiday why they didn’t visit his grandfather’s house. Son Kwang-yeon knew he was being considerate of his son.

Jin-hyeok didn’t pry because he thought there must be a reason his parents didn’t talk about it. It wasn’t their fault, and it hadn’t harmed him in the end. Jin-hyeok was happy just having his parents, and he did his best to protect that happiness.

“Jin-hyeok.”

“Yes.”

Son Kwang-yeon firmly grasped Jin-hyeok’s shoulder as he fiddled with his glove. Jin-hyeok’s deep eyes followed his father, who was younger than he had been in his previous life.

“I only saw my grandfather’s face in photos. My grandmother passed away early too. That’s why I wanted to be a father to you and give you a mother.”

Son Kwang-yeon smiled warmly.

This is my second life as Son Jin-hyeok.

I’ve lived longer than my dad now, and I’ve been back for five more years. Strangely, my dad seems more mature than me. Jin-hyeok was too moved to speak.

“Thank you, son…”

What are you thanking me for?

I’m the one who’s grateful. Jin-hyeok, who had already grown as tall and broad-shouldered as his dad, buried his forehead in his father’s chest like a child.

***

During dinner, Yu-jin lightened the mood.

She talked to everyone, but she was especially interested in Kim In-rang, the most handsome and fair-skinned of the four.

“How old are you, mister?”

“Th-thirty-three…”

Yu-jin counted on her fingers.

Then she held up two fists to her mom.

“Wow! Mom, look at this! He’s eaten a lot, right? My fingers are gone!”

After the meal, Jin-hyeok handed Moon Seok-il a note.

“I’ll contact you. Go check it out. It’ll help.”

“Alright.”

Watching Moon Seok-il’s car leave, Jin-hyeok furrowed his brow.

Dealing with people is never easy. Especially when you’re stuck in the middle, trying to connect different groups. It’s like forcing a relationship while trying to make it look natural, like packaging a ridiculous business plan into a convincing report. It’s exhausting.

‘If it weren’t for Jang Gun-i and Yu-jin, it would’ve been really awkward and tense.’

He didn’t know why his dad had suggested having dinner, but he was grateful for his sister’s presence.

“Son. Those people, are they the ones you sent to me?”

Son Kwang-yeon asked, sitting across the Go board.

“Yes.”

Seeing his son answer without hesitation, Son Kwang-yeon’s eyes lit up.

“Do you really want to use them? They’re dangerous people.”

How should he explain?

That they were helpers who could bring some normalcy to Jin-hyeok’s life.