* * *
This was something I never saw coming.
Clunk.
“Ugh!”
I was shoved hard into the bathroom stall without warning, my shin slamming against the toilet.
It throbbed in pain, but before I could even reach down to rub it, I was grabbed by the collar and slammed back-first into the wall.
In that brief moment, it felt like there wasn’t a single part of my body that didn’t hurt.
But the man standing in front of me—Do Soohyuk—just stared at my face with that same blank expression.
As the distance between us shrank ever so slightly, a deep, low voice slipped out from between his cracked lips.
“‘Kill Do Soohyuk’—you said that was your plan.”
“……”
“So why the sudden change in attitude?”
Damn it.
That snake of an association president.
Looks like he’s decided to dump all the blame on me after all.
Guess he doesn’t care about our contract anymore either.
As I stood there, lips moving but unable to say a word, Soohyuk, as if expecting this, threw me onto the toilet seat.
Then he wedged his knee between my thighs to stop me from escaping and grabbed my face in a rough grip.
My heart pounded with dread, but I didn’t even dare think of running.
“If you don’t want to talk, I’ll just have to make you want to.”
With those words, he pulled something out of his pocket.
It was a small potion, palm-sized and shimmering with a golden hue—something about it felt familiar.
Wait… that’s…
If I remembered correctly, that was a confession potion—one that forced the drinker to speak only the truth.
Even if you tried to keep your mouth shut, it would override your will and make you talk.
The moment I realized Soohyuk’s intent, I gasped and jerked my body.
But in that instant, his long fingers suddenly forced their way between my lips.
“Ugh!”
His thumb pressed down firmly on my tongue, forcing my jaw open.
I grabbed his wrist with both hands and tried to resist, but it was useless.
Damn it!
In the end, the potion was poured through my forcibly parted lips.
“Guhk!”
“Swallow. Don’t bother resisting.”
Let me say it again:
I never saw this coming.
Late August.
After the summer heat started to let up with the end of the seasonal term Cheoseo, people were finally starting to relax.
But if you’d worn a helmet all day like I had, you’d think differently.
At least until September, this delivery job meant pouring sweat every day.
It was just past the peak of the lunch rush, and I was taking a short break on a bench, hoping to cool down.
I swept back my sweat-soaked hair with one hand, leaned into the shade of a tree, and closed my eyes.
The breeze was surprisingly cool.
“Seriously though, you’re amazing. You’ve had that much money all this time and never even tried it once?”
“Yeah.”
Like clockwork, whenever I took a break, Changbeom—the guy who worked the same delivery gig—somehow always managed to find me.
His bleached, messy hair and sharp, lizard-like face tilted in disbelief.
“Aren’t you even a little curious? Even trying it once with like, 100,000 won? Or 50,000?”
I opened my eyes and gave him a tired look, which made him pout and mutter under his breath.
“Come on, don’t look at me like that… If you’ve got over 200 million won in your account, you can afford to try crypto or something.”
“I don’t trust stuff like that.”
I don’t even use credit cards because they feel unreliable.
I only use debit.
As far as I’m concerned, money should be tangible and honestly earned.
Since my second year of high school—when I was 18—I’d been saving up purely through part-time jobs. I was 28 now.
Ten years of grinding had earned me 250 million won.
Some people might scoff and say, “Only that much in ten years?” but to me, it was priceless—a treasure I’d scraped together over a lifetime.
That’s why I was so stingy.
I’d never bought a lottery ticket, let alone invested in crypto.
To me, they were both just illusions.
“I’m thinking of buying a house.”
“Ugh, that again. At least raise your limit before you talk like that. It’s not like you’re actually going to buy one.”
“I already did.”
A week ago, in fact.
I smirked at Changbeom’s over-the-top reaction and stood up.
The heat made me crave some naengmyeon.
As I thought about it, I pulled out my phone to search for nearby cold noodle spots, when a pop-up suddenly dropped down from the top of the screen.
A call.
Unknown number.
I hesitated for a second.
It wasn’t a 070 number, so I tapped the green button.
Maybe it was a restaurant owner calling back.
“Hello, this is Min Jeha.”
“……”
“Hello?”
I tried a few more times, but no response.
What the hell—wrong number?
I was just about to take the phone away from my ear when I finally heard a voice on the other end.
The voice was both familiar and unfamiliar, and my indifferent gaze began to sharpen.
They seemed to finish speaking after a short while, but I was so stunned that this time I was the one left speechless.
Still, I quickly hit the mute button when I noticed Changbeom giving me a weird look.
“…You’re eating alone today.”
“Huh? Why?”
“I’ve got someone to meet.”
Not that I knew if I should meet them.
I’d imagined this exact moment a thousand, maybe ten thousand times since I was a kid—but now that it was actually happening, I didn’t know how to react.
Why now? How did they even get this number?
A flood of questions clogged my throat, refusing to come out.
In the end, the only words I managed to spit out weren’t curses or any of the questions I’d been dying to ask.
“I’ll give you five minutes.”
It was a pathetic shred of pride I didn’t even usually bother to show.
A nearby park.
Even though it was late summer, water jets were spraying cool streams from the ground, and children ran laughing through them.
Had I ever laughed that innocently as a child?
Probably not.
From the day I was born, my family’s life was a disaster.
I’d never even been allowed to set foot outside.
My parents just let me be—neglected and ignored.
I was watching the children with dry eyes when—
“Jeha…”
That husky voice I’d heard over the phone 30 minutes ago came from not far away.
I turned to see a disheveled middle-aged man standing awkwardly.
No—disheveled was an understatement.
He looked no different from the homeless men I’d seen around Seoul Station.
As I struggled to keep a straight face, the man—who had once been called my father—nervously brushed back his graying hair.
Trying to look just a little more presentable, maybe.
“You’ve really… grown up well.”
What bullshit.
I didn’t want to hear such revolting words now of all times.
I was eight when they left me alone in that filthy house for ten whole days.
It was a miracle I didn’t die.
I drank tap water when I was thirsty, and when I couldn’t bear the hunger anymore, I dug through garbage bags filled with maggots.
Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I opened the front door for the first time in my life.
The overwhelming terror I felt in that moment…
I could never forget it. Not even now.
The one small blessing in my string of misfortunes was that I ran into the landlady just as she was coming by to collect overdue rent.
I must’ve looked utterly wretched—because her face went completely pale, and she screamed, stumbling backward in shock.
Well, I hadn’t properly washed in days.
Skin problems were a given.
Malnutrition, food poisoning…
I probably looked like a walking corpse.
And yet, she had the nerve to make light of it.
You think I survived twenty years of hell just to be brushed off with a “You’ve grown up well”?
I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw trembled before forcing myself to relax.
“Why did you want to see me?”
Right. Five minutes. I’d give him five minutes.
I’d listen—just to see what kind of pathetic excuse he came up with.
But those five minutes were cut short.
The next thing he said left me speechless.
I genuinely doubted my ears.
“Wait. That’s the first thing you say after twenty years?”
“Well, Jeha, I…”
“Money?”
He asked for money.
Not “I’m sorry,” not “I didn’t mean to abandon you.”
He came to ask if he could borrow money.
I didn’t even have the energy to get angry.
My lips twisted into a hollow smile.
A short, bitter laugh escaped my lips.
For some reason, my eyes started to sting.
Maybe my reaction scared him, because he suddenly looked flustered and leaned toward me, his posture all hunched over and pathetic.
It was impossible to look away from his miserable display.
‘This man is supposed to be my father?’
I couldn’t believe it.
“I-I’m really sick!”
“…”
“I have a serious illness… and I can’t afford the hospital…”
“A serious illness?”
“I didn’t want to come to you like this…But they said I might die without treatment. I got scared, and…”
He bowed his head, tears welling in his eyes.
His grimy face, blackened with dirt and grime, was the picture of despair.
He wiped his tears with a bony arm.
Even the dark circles under his eyes looked serious.
Was he really sick?
I didn’t feel a shred of sympathy.
Just… curiosity. Was he telling the truth?
So I told him to go—lead the way.
Let’s not wait. Let’s go to the hospital now and find out.
He looked startled, but then, strangely, seemed moved.
Kept mumbling “Thank you” like he’d misunderstood something and started walking ahead, eyes shining with gratitude.
* * *
