ACJY C4

His real work was just beginning. Though his title was Head of Strategic Planning, Seonjae’s job was playing with money. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say Ilkwang Financial’s success was largely due to Seonjae’s sharp financial acumen. To put it modestly, he was good with numbers, but when it came to money, he was confident he could outmaneuver anyone in the world. That was Lee Seonjae.

Thanks to the system Seonjae had painstakingly built over the years, the loan sharking business ran itself. Money rolled in effortlessly, and if it didn’t, the enforcers took care of it. More troublesome than delinquent clients were embezzling employees. They were adept at numbers and deception, though not to Seonjae’s extent, requiring him to reconcile the books monthly to catch any discrepancies. It was one of Seonjae’s least favorite tasks.

What he did enjoy, and meticulously so, was managing the finances of VIP clients. This involved actively assisting with tax evasion and tax avoidance – in short, helping them cheat the system. Creating slush funds. Facilitating bribes. And so on. High-ranking politicians, business leaders, and their families were his main clientele. Recently, with the company’s foray into construction, CEOs and executives of construction companies had been added to the list.

He’d been poring over documents until dawn. Opportunities for uninterrupted, focused work had been rare lately, so he made the most of it. He made copies of all necessary documents, ensuring he kept the originals.

Seonjae had been keeping double books for a long time. The “originals” kept at the company were actually copies written in his own hand, so they had never aroused suspicion. It wasn’t intentional, more of a compulsion. This had made him a valuable asset. Whether it was personally beneficial was debatable, but at this point, there was no turning back. He had to stick to the plan.

After carefully packing even the floppy disks, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and turned off the lights in his office. Dawn was breaking.

Two cleaning ladies were sweeping and mopping the office floor, emptying trash cans. Seonjae, his eyes scanning the CCTVs installed throughout the office, exited through the back door instead of the main entrance and hailed a cab. It seemed no one had been waiting for him overnight.

He’d been tailed since last week. By his own people. The company’s reckless expansion into construction had strained its finances, leading his uncle, the chairman, to implement a “restore company discipline” policy as a desperate measure. Instead of seminars and training, this involved hunting for a mole leaking information to competitors. Surveillance and wiretapping had been ordered on all executives, including Seonjae.

It wasn’t like his uncle, who always found a way out of tough situations. People whispered he’d gone senile, acting like a third-rate mob boss obsessed with finding a traitor. Come to think of it, this was around the time Lee Hyeonjun pulled off the Pangyo scam.

Regardless, the executives, including Seonjae, now had to be careful of their actions and avoid raising unnecessary suspicion. Fortunately, Seonjae preferred public transport over his private car, so taking taxis, subways, or buses didn’t raise any eyebrows.

Public transport presented too many variables, and they often lost him. When that happened, they usually waited in front of his apartment. Of course, even when he wasn’t being followed, Seonjae remained vigilant.

He got out of the cab and went underground. The subway was relatively crowded with early morning commuters. He blended in with them briefly before transferring lines. He pulled a white baseball cap from his backpack and put it on. Back above ground, he hailed another taxi.

After this roundabout journey, he finally arrived at his destination at 7 a.m. The courier had been changed again. Seonjae handed his backpack to a man matching the pre-arranged description and received an identical one in return. This was the sixth and final exchange.

Business concluded, Seonjae returned to his apartment. Built in ’78, the 750-square-foot public housing unit was steadily deteriorating while awaiting redevelopment.

The wallpaper and flooring, installed when he moved in seven years ago, were faded, and the cheap table and sofa were worn and scarred. He hadn’t turned on the secondhand TV recently, and his only entertainment was occasionally listening to music on his record player.

The kitchen was the only part of the apartment that looked relatively new. He rarely cooked, so there was no grease or water stains. He mostly drank bottled water, or tap water if he ran out. The apartment was merely a place to sleep and catch up on work. It wasn’t a sweet home, just a place to stay.

After showering, he got ready for work. The man in the mirror was pale, as if he’d never seen sunlight. Aside from his complexion, he looked surprisingly healthy for someone who’d had a sleepless night. The whites of his eyes were clear, with no sign of bloodshot veins.

“Too normal.” He chuckled to himself, thinking it was ridiculous that even insomnia seemed to discriminate. It was a good thing, but he was childishly annoyed that he didn’t look sick. He frowned, remembering his mother letting his brother stay home from school when he feigned illness, while Seonjae, genuinely sick, was forced to go.

Family. What a fucking word.

He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought.

D-1

As Seonjae entered the conference room, everyone turned to look at him as if on cue.

“Sorry I’m late.”

He bowed in apology and moved towards his seat, but their gazes remained fixed on his forehead. He raised a hand to touch it, feeling a sting. His fingers came away bloody.

Shit. When did that happen?

Seonjae didn’t even remember getting injured.

He’d definitely left his apartment on time. But then he’d found himself somewhere unfamiliar. He’d hurriedly caught a taxi, only to be stuck in rush hour traffic. When he finally reached the company, he’d inexplicably gotten out of the taxi. Why had he tried to cross the road? If he knew that, he wouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the street.

He snapped back to reality at the sound of blaring horns and stepped forward just as he heard a screech of tires. Instinctively, he dodged the car and fell. Fortunately, no one else was hurt, and the car was undamaged. The driver rolled down the window and yelled at him.

Did he hit his head when he fell? How did he even fall like that?

Disjointed thoughts raced through his mind.

His uncle frowned, deepening the already heavy atmosphere.

“So, as I was saying…”

Executive Director Jeon carefully broke the silence, resuming the discussion from before Seonjae’s arrival.

As the meeting dragged on, voices rose, and fingers were pointed. His uncle remained silent, observing the scene. The atmosphere was tense, but Seonjae felt numb. Normally, he would be acutely aware of every word spoken, analyzing facial expressions and body language to decipher the executives’ true intentions. He did it instinctively.

But now, he heard nothing. It was happening again. He was so detached that he only realized the meeting was over much later. These episodes were becoming more frequent. He finally gathered himself, straightened his clothes, and was about to stand when his uncle called him.

“Head of Planning Lee, stay back for a moment.”

All ten executives turned to glance at Seonjae and his uncle.

As soon as the door closed, a file flew at him. He knew he shouldn’t dodge this one, so he took the hit. Honestly, even if he’d tried, his body wouldn’t have obeyed.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“…”

“I said, what the hell are you doing?!”

His uncle rose abruptly and approached him. Though shorter than Seonjae, he was still nearly 6 feet tall and powerfully built. His aggressive approach shifted the air in the room.

Seonjae braced himself, closing his eyes in anticipation of a blow, but instead of a slap, his uncle grabbed his chin.

“What’s this?”

His head was forced to turn.

“I scratched it.”

“No accident?”

“No.”

His uncle’s grip released. Seonjae’s jaw throbbed.

Angry eyes glared at him. Seonjae didn’t flinch. His uncle was the one who looked away first.

“Tsk. What’s with you these days, spacing out like that?”

“I’ll be more careful.”

“What do you think of Director Choi?”

His uncle changed the subject.

There were two Director Chois among the executives. One was his uncle’s right-hand man and was leading the current surveillance operation. The Director Choi his uncle was referring to must be the other one. Seonjae knew the intention behind the question and didn’t ask for clarification. Despite having Seonjae under surveillance and his phone tapped, his uncle always asked him for his opinion on which executive was suspicious. He probably did the same with the others.

“Well, I think we need to observe him a bit longer. Director Choi’s recent performance hasn’t been great, but I don’t think he’s the type to betray you.”

Seonjae gave a vague but plausible answer.

His uncle nodded.

“Right. He does have that side to him.”

He then noticed Lee Hyeonjun’s absence and asked, feigning concern, as if he hadn’t been aware of it all along.

“The Vice President missed the meeting again. This is the first time he’s missed two weeks in a row, isn’t it?”

His uncle only frowned in response.

“You can go now.”

“If the Vice President continues like this, there could be backlash against the mole hunt. As you know, these days…”

“I said you can go.”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t want to hear it.

Seonjae smiled wryly and left the conference room.