* * *

Thinking of the thick envelope in my bag, I looked bitterly at the sign for “Dream Finance” before stepping into the run-down building.

The first time I tried to withdraw such a large sum, I had to listen to a long, drawn-out explanation about the risks of “phone scams.”

But that wasn’t the case anymore.

There was a bank nearby that offered flexible hours, so I’d regularly visit.

Eventually, the teller who handled my transactions even began to look at me with pity.

I didn’t want anyone’s sympathy, but it was easier to just let it be.

The evidence of their pity was the watermelon-flavored candy in my mouth.

Rolling the sweet around on my tongue, I walked down the grimy hallway and stopped in front of “Dream Finance.”

I lightly knocked and opened the heavy metal door, which creaked sharply, as if it had never been oiled.

“Ah…”

Inside, everything was just as I remembered.

A brown leather sofa, a worn green cloth-covered glass table, the letters on the window spelling out “Dr Finan” with some missing, and grimy gray partitions.

Exactly the same.

Except for the man holding a paper cup right in front of me—someone I knew very well.

“Director Jang.”

This was someone who, as far as I knew, would have no association, not even a speck, with a seedy loan office like this.

Jang Minjun, the previous secretary to Jeong Gayun of QK Capital, he is now a director.

When he saw me, he dropped his paper cup.

The steaming coffee spilled onto the floor.

“Oh, oh…”

“…”

“…Hello?”

Only then did pieces of what I’d heard from both Jeong Gayun, who had told me months ago that I owed her a thank-you, and Doha’s mother, Ahn Yoongi, click into place.

‘Seonbi, you should be bowing to me in gratitude, got it?’

‘Take a look at your daily life. If something that was supposed to happen didn’t, it’s worth checking into.’

The only unusual thing in my daily life was the absence of pressure from the loan shark.

I kept that in mind as I gave Director Jang a bright smile.

“Who knew today would be the day I’d finally thank Gayun?”

“Uh, um?”

‘I’ve never run around like this before, from Hong Kong to Luxembourg, and then Singapore banks, to Belgium, the Virgin Islands, and the Cayman Islands. Wouldn’t you say this money has traveled faster than I have?’

“Hong Kong, Luxembourg, Singapore, Belgium, the Virgin Islands, Cayman Islands… Quite the journey for the money.”

I referred to myself as a lowly cog, bending deeply.

Doing so made me feel as if the crushing weight of my debt was lighter, more bearable, as if blaming someone else might prevent me from losing every last ounce of my pride and resolve.

If it all was just an empty struggle… I felt as though even the tiniest fragments of my convictions and pride might be shattered.

“…Hah.”

“Um… uh… Seonbi…”

I could see the tremor in Director Jang’s eyes.

With too few clues to piece it all together, there was only one option left: meet the one who held the full truth and ask.

I tossed his discarded paper cup into a nearby trash can and pulled my lips into a grin.

“Shall we go see Gayun together?”

I bit down on the candy, crushing it.

The satisfaction of knowing he’d be reprimanded soon wasn’t enough to calm my unease.

Pardon me, Director Jang.

We both live off borrowed money, so please forgive the bitter pleasure I take in this moment.

A glass of orange juice I’d once offered to Gayun a few months back sat before me.

I watched her, crossing my legs, without even bothering to open it.

She was wearing a suit buttoned to her neck, yet there was an undeniable allure about her.

“Back so soon? You got dragged away for cheating, and here you are again?”

“Paid my dues last time. Thank you for your concern, Gayun. Quite a lot of money in circulation, I see.”

“Money’s always circulating.”

“If I’d known you were moving that much for me, I’d have brought fresh oranges and squeezed the juice for you instead of a store-bought one.”

“If you were squeezing in front of me, you’d be squeezing other things, too. I like milk, you know.”

I frowned, unsure what she meant, and she chuckled, brushing her hands off.

“Really kept busy, didn’t you?”

“…”

“Well, fine. Yes, I moved your money. So what? I’ve done that my whole life. It’s not even a big deal.”

“But why? I was making my payments, and at this rate, I could have repaid it within ten years, or at least before retiring.”

Since childhood, I’ve been buried under a mountain of debt, leaving my credit rating still rock-bottom.

No matter how much I paid, the amount of debt attached to my name never seemed to change.

Those loan sharks were annoyingly clever, working within legal boundaries, moving shrewdly, just out of reach.

Despite my efforts to find legal loopholes or seek advice, the only answer I got was that the inheritance debt couldn’t be waived.

I even considered declaring personal bankruptcy, but ironically, you can’t afford to go bankrupt in South Korea without money.

I thought about fleeing overseas, but that, too, requires funds.

Everything was about money.

So I kept struggling, bowing before it time and time again, just to survive.

But accepting pity, receiving charity—that was something else.

I was managing well enough on my own, so Jeong Gayun’s interference felt humiliating.

“I was doing just fine. I can pay it back.”

“I thought I’d hidden it well… but my assistant happens to visit that place once a week. And today is that day. Still, that last line is funny—entertaining, even, Seonyul.”

Gayun laughed as though she’d heard the most amusing story.

She wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, then leaned back on the sofa, crossing her legs.

“Do you even know how much you actually owe?”

“Two billion won principal, with interest…”

“No, no.”

“…?”

“Do you know the exact amount of the principal?”

Two billion won, with a 38% interest rate—a bloodsucking, high-interest loan.

If she knew the specifics, there’d be no need for this conversation.

Gayun placed her hands on her knee, smiling charmingly.

“You wouldn’t be able to pay it back in a lifetime.”

“It’s not forever. I’ve managed to pay enough to finally start chipping away at the principal.”

“Chipping away at the principal? Seonyul, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all year. Do you think I’d be running money worldwide just over two billion won? In my account, that’s barely worth a flicker of attention.”

“But…!”

“Then take a look yourself.”

Gayun threw a prepared envelope onto the table in front of me.

Reluctantly, I took out the stack of papers inside.

It was a contract.

One my father had signed long ago.

As I looked over the yellowed, fraying edges and scanned the details, I scoffed.

“You bastards…”

It wasn’t two billion.

A sneaky figure hid behind an unnoticed gap: twenty billion.

Those loan sharks never intended to let my father or me off the hook.

Bitter laughter escaped me.

Judging by the dates, it looked like it started when I was about ten.

The accumulated interest over twenty years was something I could never hope to pay off.

Even at a basic calculation, the total owed was in the hundreds of billions.

Gayun tapped her finger on the table, chuckling as she watched my stunned expression.

“That’s why contracts should be written in words, not numbers. It’s not even funny how often this happens. But you’re in too deep. To them, you’re a golden goose. And you think you’ve been paying down the principal? You’d spend your whole life just on the interest. Seonyul, you have too rosy a view of the world.”

Gayun laughed, tilting her head slightly.

“After paying and paying the interest, the day would come when you couldn’t pay anymore. Then they’d sell off your body. As an Omega, you’d end up in a brothel, and if things got really dire, they might even strip you of whatever organs you had left. With luck, you’d be dismantled right there and sold all over the world. Selling yourself might be easier than that. Though these days, it’s technically illegal, so they might stick to just the brothel. Even we loan sharks follow some laws. Human organs are a little more challenging to deal with.”

The mention of “Omega” drained the color from my face.

What did she mean?

My hands shook as I tried to rise, but a crushing force pinned me, forcing me to kneel by the sofa.

It felt like I was suffocating.

When I managed to glance up, her proud, piercing gaze silenced me.

“How…?”

The smell of strong liquor, like whiskey with a sweetness laced in—nothing like Doha’s gentle rosewood scent.

This one was as sharp as a blade, seeming to tear me apart.

“Since you walked in, you’ve been reeking of pheromones. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? When did you manifest as an Omega?”

“Ugh… stop… please…”

“Disperse your pheromones. Don’t you even know how to do that?”

* * *