KTS Ch 19

The green taxi sped down the dark night road without a single light.

Tattered shop signs, rust trickling down pillars, and the dim glow of bulbs far too weak to illuminate the stores. The street, so rundown it was hard to tell whether the businesses were still operating or had become ruins, stretched on endlessly.

The taxi turned into an alley. Unlike the main road, it was an unpaved dirt path covered in dust. People roamed freely, ignoring the distinction between road and sidewalk, some casually leading goats and chickens with an air of unhurried leisure.

“Ugh.”

The bumpy dirt road caused the car to jolt up and down. Dust kicked up by the wheels even poured into the wide-open back seat. Woojung coughed loudly, trying to steady his breathing.

“Cough, hack.”

Somehow, it felt like they were getting farther and farther from the city center filled with towering buildings. Are we even going the right way? As Woojung thought this, cold sweat dampened his palms.

[Is it still far?]

[We’re almost there. Just turn the corner up ahead and head a bit into the alley, and you’ll reach the Chambri Hotel. Should I drive all the way into the alley?]

[Oh… yes. Please stop at the hotel entrance. Thank you.]

The Filipino taxi driver glanced at Woojung through the rearview mirror. His accent and word choice were like those of a local. He seemed fluent, but his winter attire made him stand out like a tourist. In the Philippines, a country with year-round heat, no local would buy and wear a padded jacket.

The driver’s gaze, darting between the road and the back seat, fixed on one spot. Woojung’s fair cheeks. Perhaps East Asian mixed-race? Distracted by staring, the car slowed down noticeably.

Bang, bang. A local crossing the street irritably pounded on the taxi’s hood. The driver and the pedestrian exchanged heated words. The taxi fare kept climbing. Reluctantly, Woojung called out, “Mister,” prompting the driver to clear his throat and speed down the alley.

They drove like that for five minutes. In the distance, an unusually tall building came into view. Amidst ramshackle houses that looked ready to collapse, a four-story structure stood out starkly.

The Chambri Hotel, located in Manila, Philippines. It was Woojung’s destination.

After encountering Sa Gongjun on the shuttle train, Woojung didn’t follow his original plan upon reaching the departure gate.

He lingered in a secluded airport bathroom, deliberately missing his flight, then pleaded with staff to return to the departure area.

“Oh no, the next flight to Gimhae Airport isn’t until tomorrow. What would you like to do?”

“Book me on the earliest flight available, any destination.”

“Weren’t you planning to enter Korea?”

“Not necessarily. Just check for any options.”

The crew member tilted her head for a moment before checking the tickets.

“There’s a flight to Manila, but… it’s a bit tight on time. If you purchase the ticket, we can escort you to the gate with an airport cart. What do you want to do?”

There was no reason to refuse. For Woojung, who spoke Filipino and English fluently, Manila felt more familiar than most places.

“Book it. A ticket to Manila.”

Despite the glares from Qingdao airport staff and a few rigorous checks, the effort paid off. Everything proceeded smoothly afterward.

Thus, Woojung made his way from Qingdao to Manila.

One month at the shortest, three months at the longest. He planned to return to Korea once Sa Gongjun’s attention waned.

At Manila airport’s business center, Woojung searched for a place to stay temporarily.

In his haste, he hadn’t looked closely. The photos he glimpsed suggested a decent hotel, but the one before him now was, frankly, deeply disappointing.

Peering out the taxi window, he scanned the surroundings.

It was called a hotel, but there was no sign, and the exterior lights were all off. A few lights flickered on the third and fourth floors, but they didn’t inspire confidence.

Now that he thought about it, the price had seemed suspiciously cheap. A lodging for twenty dollars a night. They even offered a two-hundred-dollar discount for paying thirty days upfront, which had lured him here. But no matter how he looked at it, calling this a hotel was a stretch. Perhaps a temporary shelter for people with stories to tell.

[We’re here. Aren’t you getting out?]

[I’m, I’m getting out.]

[How are you paying?]

[In dollars.]

[Twenty-two dollars.]

He rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill, the smallest denomination from the tips he’d earned on the cruise.

[Here.]

The driver took the money but said nothing. After an awkward standoff, Woojung spoke first.

[Give me the change first. I’ll tip separately.]

[Just get out. I’ve seen plenty of passengers stall like this.]

Pushed along, Woojung paid the fare and got out of the taxi. The driver sped off without giving change. After chasing a few steps, Woojung reluctantly turned back.

He opened the iron gate at the alley’s edge. A chilling creak sounded. If not for the “OPEN” sign on the glass door leading to the hotel, he might have assumed it was closed and left.

The building, which looked ominous from afar, was even worse up close. The concrete exterior, left unfinished, was streaked with layers of grimy water stains.

[Excuse me.]

The reception was empty. Instead, a basket in the middle held keys and cards adorned with wooden figurines.

“We leave at 6 p.m., so we leave the keys here. Open the door yourself and come down later to settle the bill. Breakfast is served at the rooftop restaurant from 7 a.m. to 9 a.m., and there’s nothing if you miss the time.”

Woojung’s room was 407.

In the tiny lobby, barely six pyeong, an elevator stood at one end. He felt a brief thrill, thinking he could ride it up, but the doors refused to open despite waiting.

He pressed the button several times. No response. An elevator in name only, not operational. Woojung climbed the dark staircase on all fours to the fourth floor.

Reaching the fourth floor, Woojung approached the railing. The building’s structure was peculiar. The center was hollow like a courtyard, with rooms tightly packed along its edges.

Looking down at the first floor, he saw a small swimming pool. It wasn’t a great place, but the palm trees around it created a somewhat exotic atmosphere, not entirely unpleasant.

Despite the late hour, someone was in the pool. He lay sprawled, staring blankly at the ceiling. Curious about what he was gazing at, Woojung followed his line of sight.

The night sky was visible. A navy-blue night sky framed by the orange, square-shaped building roof. He chuckled, recalling how he’d been startled by the exterior. The place was different on the inside.

Taking a deep breath, Woojung headed to his room. It was a space with just a queen-sized bed and a small bathroom. He set his backpack on the bedside table and locked the door.

Coming from winter straight into summer, it was humid and hot. Scanning the room, Woojung noticed long, narrow windows on either side of the door. He wondered if opening them would let in a breeze but hesitated.

What to do? While pondering, he spotted a window-type air conditioner near the ceiling. A TV was mounted on the opposite ceiling. Tossing his winter clothes onto the bed, Woojung turned on the air conditioner. With a clattering noise, the room quickly cooled.

After showering, Woojung collapsed onto the bed without drying his dripping hair. Thus, he settled into a small village near Manila’s port.

🌸

Woojung woke up after sleeping straight through two days at the hotel.

He instinctively reached for his phone but stopped. The thought that Sa Gongjun might track his location and follow him flashed through his mind.

He went down from the fourth floor to the first to check the time. Seven in the morning. The sunlight pouring into the courtyard was intense. Feeling the back of his neck heat up quickly, he sensed a scorching day was coming.

Returning to his room, Woojung rummaged through his backpack and found a square box. It was a gold medal he’d received as the best staff member during his time on the cruise.

He’d completely forgotten about it. Realizing it was valuable brought relief. If things got tough, he could sell the medal, which eased his mind. The more emergency funds, the better.

He pulled out a white short-sleeved shirt from his bag. All he had for pants were the winter ones he’d worn, so he put those back on. Wearing clothes Sa Gongjun had bought felt uneasy, but he couldn’t afford to spend on new ones.

Dressed in a strange mix of seasons, Woojung headed to the hotel’s rooftop.

On the rough cement floor, four rattan tables sat alone. No guests, no staff. They’d said breakfast was served at the rooftop restaurant, but it felt too empty to be a functioning business.

Did I come to the wrong place? As he started to turn back, someone emerged from a makeshift structure in the corner. A man with lemon-hued hair and a high nose bridge, with a Western appearance.

[You’re new here. Woojung, right?]

[Yes. And you are…?]

[I’m Todd Noel. The building owner, manager, chef, and handyman. Just call me Todd.]

[Oh, nice to meet you.]

[Not exactly the first meeting, is it? We crossed paths late the other night. I was in the pool, and you were on the fourth floor.]

[Huh? So you were the one swimming that night…]

Todd nodded with a smile.

His lemon-colored hair gleamed in the sunlight. His eyelashes, seen up close, were the same hue. Woojung, intrigued despite knowing it was rude, stared at his face.

It was odd that a hotel owner used the facilities like a guest. But this striking man didn’t look like someone running a rundown hotel in a corner of Manila.

[Sit over here and wait a bit, okay? Breakfast isn’t quite ready.]

[Sure.]

Did I get the time wrong? Glancing around, Woojung spotted a clock on the wall. Seven-twenty in the morning.

[Just wait a moment. I’ll bring it out soon.]

Todd disappeared into the structure, making all sorts of clattering noises as he prepared breakfast. Thirty minutes later, he emerged with a single large plate. No tray, no napkin. Just a plate in his left hand, a fork and knife in his right. That was it.

[Here’s your order.]

[Thank you.]

One piece of toast, two strips of bacon, three finger-sized sausages, and a sunny-side-up egg. The egg’s edges were shriveled, the toast undercooked, and the bacon overly crispy.

A hotel in an odd location with slightly clumsy service. Watching Todd’s haphazard actions, Woojung was certain. This man wasn’t experienced in hospitality or service.

As Woojung stared at the plate, Todd began a confession-like explanation.

[To be honest, we’ve only been open for a few days. It’s been a week, and I’ve only had a few groups who slept and left. You’re the first to have breakfast, so… it’s a bit messy.]

Todd placed another plate on an empty table. It held the same food as Woojung’s, but the presentation was even worse. Clearly, he’d remade it after a failed attempt. Woojung gave a small smile.

[Oh, my head. I forgot to offer a drink. Coffee? Tea?]

[Uh…]

Both coffee and tea likely had caffeine.

Woojung hesitated. His doctor had warned about being cautious in early pregnancy, and caffeine was on the list. Until he decided about the baby, he figured he should be careful with what he consumed. Todd muttered to himself.

[Or maybe juice or milk?]

[Juice, please. That sounds good.]

Todd’s eyebrows drooped awkwardly.

[Oh, sorry. We don’t actually have juice. I didn’t even think about it until talking to you just now. I’ll request beverages from a supplier, so bear with me for now.]

[It’s fine. Just water, then.]

[Alright? I’ve got ice, want some?]

Woojung nodded with a smile.

After serving, Todd pulled out a chair at the table next to Woojung’s. As he sat, he lightly knocked on Woojung’s table. Woojung looked up.

[Looks like we’re the only two eating this morning. Want to eat together?]

[Sounds good.]

Woojung sat across from Todd.

The humid summer morning breeze carried the sound of chirping birds. It was more pleasant than any music he’d heard on the cruise. Somehow, it felt calming.

As Woojung wrapped a piece of toast with bacon and ate, he thought. Sleeping in, eating a breakfast someone else prepared, in a small village on the outskirts of a foreign city. Just a few months ago, this was unimaginable.

He’d been so anxious during the unexpected flight to Manila. But now that he was here, it didn’t seem like a big deal. It almost felt like a vacation, and the lodging wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. This peaceful moment felt almost dreamlike.

[Is it okay?]

[Yeah, it’s good.]

The plating was poor, but the ingredients were fresh. Woojung wasn’t picky, which helped.

[Good to hear. I was worried.]

Todd only started eating his portion after seeing Woojung clear half his plate.

During the meal, they learned about each other. Todd discovered Woojung was traveling from Korea, and Woojung learned Todd, from Serbia, had started a hotel business in Manila.

[So you came to Manila alone to start a business?]

[Yeah, there’s a new port planned here. The Philippine government, operators, and some Korean company are considering investments.]

Todd blinked at Woojung.

[Come to think of it, didn’t you say you’re from Korea?]

[Uh, yeah.]

Woojung answered briefly, not wanting to think about anything related to Sa Gongjun.

[Anyway, the project fell through a few times before restarting. I heard it’s for real this time, so I took a big leap. The problem is, that leap was driven by money.]

[That’s impressive. Starting something this big alone isn’t easy.]

[Ha, you wouldn’t say that if you knew the details. Long story short, it’s a failed investment.]

[Why?]

[I was more interested in other things than the hotel itself.]

[Other things?]

Each question from Woojung made Todd’s lips curl upward. His widening eyes drew attention.

[I was referred to a few sites pegged for the new port through a local investment firm. I picked the one with the least cost for the biggest return, which led me to acquire the Chambri Hotel. Owning commercial or lodging property here gives you equal footing for a spot in the new port.]

People are the same everywhere, Korea or the Philippines, Woojung thought, nodding casually. Todd’s voice grew quieter, almost sinking.

[I thought I’d make some money, but who could’ve known the new port zone would be set right up to the intersection in front of the hotel?]

[Oh…]

[It ate me up for months, so I neglected this place. Then I realized I couldn’t keep doing that, so I reopened a week ago.]

Todd poured water into Woojung’s empty glass and continued.

[The vacancy rate isn’t as bad as I feared, which is a relief, but I still get worked up sometimes. Especially at night. When I’m lying in the pool, it’s mostly to cool off.]

Woojung nodded, saying it was a shame the area wasn’t redeveloped alongside, keeping the conversation light.

Excited, Todd spilled more details about redevelopment and investment firms.

Woojung just blinked. Honestly, he understood less than half of it.

[Oh, I’ve been talking your ear off. Sorry. It’s been so long since I talked to someone. You must be tired.]

[No, it was nice to hear something new.]

[Thanks for saying that. If you need anything during the day, come to reception. If I’m not there, leave a note.]

[Got it.]

[Oh, and let me tell you about the area.]

Todd took Woojung on a tour around the rooftop.

[That big building over there is the only mart in the neighborhood. The commercial building next to it has a pharmacy, a hair salon, and a restaurant. Avoid the hair salon. I wouldn’t recommend it even to my worst enemy.]

[That bad?]

[Yeah, it’s something else.]

Woojung chuckled briefly. He followed Todd to the other side. Old, dilapidated single-story buildings stretched endlessly, some covered in red spray paint.

[This side is the planned site for the new port office. Don’t cross over if you can help it. Most are vacant, but some are illegally occupied. Those folks can be rough, so be careful day or night.]

[Even during the day?]

[Yeah, daytime too. But they won’t come over here unless you encroach on their space. Don’t worry too much.]

[Okay. Thanks.]

Todd left with the empty plates.

Woojung looked down from the rooftop, mentally mapping the route to the mart before heading down.

His first solo outing made him a bit nervous. Trudging through the dirt path, sweat beaded on his back despite the short distance. As he entered the mart, flapping his white T-shirt, the cool air conditioning felt refreshing.

He bought shorts and slippers, then browsed the food section. Nothing looked familiar. He wished for canned tuna or instant meals.

After circling a few times, Woojung put meatballs and instant noodles in his cart. As he was about to leave disappointed, he spotted instant rice in a corner and added it.

Noodles were a thousand won, instant rice fifteen hundred, meatballs around two thousand. Calculating how much he could spend to last three months, Woojung paused.

Is it okay to eat just this?

He turned back from the checkout. He added salads and fruits, including the orange melon he’d eaten at the cruise buffet.

Back in his room, Woojung stored the fruits and salads in the fridge and stacked the rest by the window.

Spending like this daily would shorten his stay. A month at best, maybe a month and a half if he stretched it.

Even at the hospital, and now, his body seemed to move before his mind. It felt right, yet not quite. But he couldn’t just ignore it either.

He couldn’t keep agonizing over it.

Woojung let out a short groan and collapsed onto the bed. He alternated his gaze between the fridge and his backpack before closing his eyes. He decided that the next time he went to the mart, he would take the medal to sell.

The room was so quiet it felt desolate. He turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. Local news played on the screen. The murmuring voices felt like a lullaby.

He stared blankly for a while. Despite sleeping so much, he felt drowsy again. To feel this exhausted after a twenty-minute round trip and just over an hour of shopping at the mart.

Woojung slowly rolled over and pulled out the blanket tucked around the mattress’s edge. His body, which hadn’t rested properly in a long time, must be craving it, he thought, closing his eyes.

🌸

Director Sa Jaewoong, with his feet propped up on the desk, turned to Secretary Noh Minseok and asked again.

“Is Sa Gongjun absent from the regular meeting?”

“Yes, Director.”

“What’s the reason?”

“Medical leave… sir.”

“You seem embarrassed even saying it.”

“My apologies.”

Sa Jaeyeon, sitting on the sofa, raised her voice.

“What? Big oppa is sick?”

“See that? Anyone who knows Sa Gongjun would react like this.”

Sa Jaewoong stood up, adjusting his suit. As he walked toward the sofa, he let out a boisterous laugh.

“You hear all sorts of ridiculous things in life. The guy who got stabbed and was up and about in three days, on medical leave? Nonsense.”

“Of course, it’s the official reason registered through formal channels.”

Secretary Noh, sitting across from Sa Jaewoong, pulled out his phone from his jacket.

“I looked into it through unofficial channels and handled it confidentially. There are some suspicious circumstances that I think you should review, Director.”

“What is it?”

“Someone’s been coming and going from Yeonhui-dong.”

“Yeonhui-dong? Who’s getting into that fortress?”

“A boy.”

“…Let me see.”

Secretary Noh handed over the phone. The photo album contained images of Woojung entering a goshiwon, disembarking from a cruise at Incheon Port, and getting into a black car.

Sa Jaewoong picked out a photo of Woojung smiling brightly in a uniform.

“He doesn’t look ordinary. An omega?”

“Yes.”

“That jerk’s taste is quite refined for such a punk. Where does he even find these guys?”

“…….”

“If he was close with hyung, maybe we could’ve teamed up. That’s a bit of a shame.”

Sa Jaeyeon, who had been quietly listening from the sofa, frowned.

“Little oppa, it’d be nice if you refrained from crude remarks.”

“If you’re going to curse someone, curse Sa Gongjun. Why pick on innocent me?”

“Big oppa is single. Little oppa is married.”

Sa Jaewoong waved the photo at Secretary Noh.

“Explain.”

“He’s an ordinary boy living alone in a goshiwon.”

“Did we ever hire minors as staff?”

“His youthful face fooled me too, but he’s an adult. It’s confirmed he worked in the VIP lounge on the China route.”

“Worked?”

“He worked for a couple of months, then resigned a few weeks ago. And he disappeared at a port of call.”

Sa Jaewoong’s eyebrows shot up and then settled. The timing coincided with when Sa Gongjun started keeping a low profile. His hand flipped through the photos quickly, pausing at a license plate on the back of a car.

“This cheeky guy was personally chauffeuring him.”

Sure, he’s the type to spread his wings anywhere, but not the type to let just anyone into his territory. Sa Jaewoong’s eyes gleamed with intrigue. Catching the hint, Secretary Noh scratched where it itched.

“We’ve prepared to leak it on the intranet.”

“No, no, no.”

Sa Jaewoong scratched the sofa’s armrest with his nails, muttering that something was up, that he could smell it.

“That bastard’s been screwing our family for decades, calling himself hyung. I can’t waste this card so easily. Let’s give it a try.”

“Little oppa, are you serious?”

Sa Jaeyeon asked in a low voice. Sa Jaewoong leaned back on the sofa, crossing his legs.

“Yeah.”

“What if this guy turns out to be just some random omega?”

“Then we back off naturally, like nothing happened.”

“Will big oppa stay quiet?”

“If it’s just a fling, Sa Gongjun won’t react much. I’m only going to poke a little. What about you?”

“Think carefully. It’s a route Father sorted out to some extent before he collapsed.”

“Exactly. It’s something Father did before he collapsed. Now he’s down.”

Sa Jaeyeon let out a long sigh. Sa Jaewoong was great, but his judgment could be off at times. Like now.

“It’s a muddy mess, and I’m hesitant to step in willingly. I’m an actress with a lot to lose. My usual roles are heroines.”

“It’s Yeonhui-dong, Jaeyeon.”

Sa Jaewoong tilted his head back, rubbing his chin as he continued.

“The omega’s been going to Yeonhui-dong, Sa Gongjun’s stronghold. Have you ever seen anyone go in there? I’ve had bad blood with him forever, so fine, but you? You’re pretty close to Sa Gongjun, and even you haven’t been to Yeonhui-dong, right?”

“…That’s true.”

“The fact that he let someone into his territory is enough. You and I are outside that jerk’s fence; this omega is inside.”

Sa Jaeyeon adjusted her fallen bangs, gauging the situation. True, but big oppa has a far creepier side than little oppa. She swallowed the thought.

“If you’re not up for it, stay back. If I succeed, I’ll give you LX Fashion as a gift.”

“For real? Then I’m all for it. I’ll cheer you on, little oppa.”

Sa Jaewoong slammed the sofa armrest and laughed. His gaze remained fixed on the scattered photos of Woojung on the table.

“Looks like it’s time to claim my place, Secretary Noh.”

🌸

Woojung blinked, groggy from sleep.

No matter how much he slept, his body felt heavy. Despite doing nothing and staying in the room for over ten days, the fatigue showed no signs of lifting.

Did sleep beget more sleep? He forced himself to roll over. His backpack came into view. Through a small gap, a medicine packet was visible. Suddenly, he recalled a conversation with a nurse at the cruise hospital.

“When should I start the medication?”

“You need to start within seven to ten days. If you keep delaying, there’ll come a moment when fatigue and lethargy hit hard. That’s the deadline.”

At the time, he thought the explanation was overly subjective. But experiencing it now, he realized how accurate it was. The abnormal fatigue he felt couldn’t be explained solely by jet lag or low stamina.

Stretching out his arm, Woojung pulled out the medicine packet.

“The medicine is strong, so we’ve prescribed something to protect your stomach. Take it thirty minutes after eating. The injections need to be administered regularly every twenty-four hours.”

Woojung placed his palm over the thigh where the nurse had roughly indicated.

“If you keep injecting in the same spot, it’ll be painful. Space them about two centimeters apart, like this. Want to practice with an empty syringe?”

“Like… this?”

“Yes, well done. Don’t forget to inject one every day.”

“What if I miss the injection time?”

“Inject as soon as you remember, and resume the regular schedule for the next dose. But if the medication is delayed by more than forty-eight hours, it could be dangerous for both you and the baby, so be extremely careful.”

“Okay.”

“Mr. Woojung, you need to visit the hospital regularly. Especially for omegas like you on medication, you have to be extra cautious.”

“…Thank you.”

Woojung got off the bed. He grabbed the instant rice and meatballs stacked in a corner and headed to the first floor. He placed both in the communal microwave and pressed the button six times in a row.

While waiting, he glanced at the clock on the reception wall. Eight in the evening. He decided he’d buy a clock for his room at the mart tomorrow.

Back on the fourth floor, he finished his meal in the room. He opened the medicine packet. Blue, yellow, white. There were five tiny pills. Unable to swallow them all at once, Woojung took them one by one.

He climbed onto the bed and took off his pants. Using the alcohol swab included in the kit, he wiped his left thigh.

Struggling with the needle, Woojung finally jabbed it in with trembling hands. A chilling sensation spread as the medicine flowed, accompanied by a pulling feeling in his thigh.

Throwing the empty syringe onto the room’s floor, Woojung buried his face in the bed. It hurt. The pain was so intense that he frantically rubbed his thigh where he’d injected.

If he decided to have the baby, he’d have to do this for ten months. Lying face-down on the bed, Woojung caught his breath quietly.

🌸

Sa Gongjun returned to the company.

Immediately, he was swamped with backlog work. Even with Secretary Choi and the secretarial team’s support, the workload was murderous, leading to a string of late nights. His patience snapped during a meeting to review a new project.

“The business viability analysis shows the Busan Port expansion project as third priority, with Incheon Port and Manila’s new port showing comparable projections. I’ll explain the details with numerical data analysis…”

“Team Leader Kim, this report sounds like something I’ve heard before.”

“You asked me to summarize the key points, so I redid it.”

“Is that how you interpreted the context of our last meeting?”

His sharp gaze fixed on the TF team leader.

“I didn’t give you more time to rehash the same content. Skip the preamble and review what’s new and worth considering here. We’ll proceed with the meeting simultaneously.”

Team Leader Kim couldn’t easily respond. He wasn’t sure where to start with the presentation materials he’d prepared to suit Executive Director Sa Gongjun’s taste. Honestly, he wasn’t even certain he’d grasped the context of the previous meeting correctly.

“…I’ll prepare it again.”

“If I give you more time, will the blue data turn into green data this time?”

Team Leader Kim’s fingers, clasped behind his back, trembled slightly.

“You might think I’m nitpicking, but your review is fundamentally off. Why keep bringing up Busan Port, which was already demoted to third priority, in a business viability analysis? We need to narrow it down to Incheon and Manila. Do I have to spell it out this explicitly for adults?”

Leaning back in his chair, Sa Gongjun closed his eyes tightly, pressing the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry.”

“Even a university-industry collaboration would produce a more professional report than this.”

Sighing, Sa Gongjun stood up. Secretary Choi, seated behind him, stood and turned on the meeting room’s lights. The team leader, standing in front of the projector, clasped his hands demurely, struggling with tension.

“There’s no time to spare. We need to make a final decision by this week.”

“Yes.”

“If you understand, be ready to review again by this time tomorrow.”

Sa Gongjun walked out to the hallway toward the elevator, with Secretary Choi by his side.

“Update me on progress.”

“We’re investigating Mr. Cheon Woojung’s movements on the cruise.”

Sa Gongjun and Secretary Choi stopped in front of the executive elevator.

“Mr. Cheon Woojung had close staff and a department head. Per protocol, I had the security team conduct one-on-one meetings and reviewed the reports, but nothing unusual was found.”

“Do I have to say the same thing to you, Secretary Choi?”

“…….”

“What about the CCTV?”

“There are thousands of CCTV cameras at Qingdao Airport. Not all areas are connected, so some sections require manual tracking. If this were Korea, we’d retrieve all cameras and search directly, but it’s challenging. Realistically, we need a bit more time…”

Secretary Choi paused. Sa Gongjun’s expression, reflected in the stainless steel elevator door, was razor-sharp.

“I’ll handle it as quickly as possible.”

“This is the second week I’ve heard something like that from you. I’m getting tired of it.”

He hadn’t expected it would take this long to find Cheon Woojung, not even slightly.

“Did you check the cruise CCTV?”

“Yes, I requested it from the security team earlier.”

“But?”

“Some sections of the footage were deleted.”

Sa Gongjun turned his head, hands in his pockets, staring at Secretary Choi.

“Deleted?”

“…Sorry. I didn’t anticipate this.”

“Damn it, everyone’s so frustrating. When things go wrong, you just bring me the current state and expect me to do what? Move to the next step!”

This is the company. Eyes are watching. He had to restrain his rising anger. Repeating the thought like a mantra, Sa Gongjun breathed heavily.

“Money exists for times when you can’t control time, place, or people. I don’t need these petty reports anymore. I don’t care how much you spend. Quietly, without anyone knowing, find Cheon Woojung first.”

“Yes, understood. What about the cruise CCTV?”

“Find out who did it. To tamper with it, it’s not some random guy.”

To manipulate CCTV, you’d need to influence the security team. That would require someone with status or wealth. A little digging would reveal Sa Gongjun’s connection to Cheon Woojung. Few around him would dare challenge him knowing that.

“Include Sa Jaewoong and Sa Jaeyeon in the investigation.”

“You mean your siblings, Executive Director?”

“Yes, we’re siblings, sure. But looking at how things are going, it seems I’m the only one playing nice.”

🌸

“…Sir, Executive Director.”

Late at night, Sa Gongjun arrived at his Yeonhui-dong villa. His eyelids moved slower than usual.

“We’ve arrived at Yeonhui-dong.”

A cold breeze swept in from somewhere. Turning, he saw the driver holding the back door handle, looking concerned. Unlike usual, Secretary Choi was also waiting nearby.

Secretary Choi approached Sa Gongjun and asked.

“Shall we head to the hospital? If it’s inconvenient, I’ll have Manager Kim call your doctor.”

Sa Gongjun covered his eyes with his palm, then dropped it. Company work, personal matters, family events. They used to flow as naturally as breathing. But lately, he’d been feeling fatigued more often.

Catching his breath in the back seat, he stepped out and straightened his posture as if nothing was wrong.

“Frequent hospital visits or doctor calls will only draw attention. Sa Jaewoong may seem like a fool, but he’s got a punch. No need to make myself prey.”

“Still, your complexion looks bad. Manager Kim said you haven’t been sleeping well for weeks.”

“More importantly.”

Sa Gongjun swallowed his words. After a brief pause, he closed and opened his eyes. He couldn’t count how many times a day he asked about Cheon Woojung.

“Speak.”

“No. Both of you go home for today.”

“Yes, Executive Director. I’ll contact you if there’s any update on Mr. Cheon Woojung.”

“Good. Do that.”

“Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, Secretary Choi exchanged a silent glance with Manager Kim waiting at the entrance.

Manager Kim took Sa Gongjun’s briefcase and spoke.

“Have you had dinner?”

“Not hungry. I want to rest, so don’t come up.”

“Yes.”

Sa Gongjun went straight to the second-floor bedroom.

Facing the quiet stillness, Sa Gongjun irritably threw off his clothes.

No voice followed him saying, “You’re back,” no tense eyes tracking his movements. Even the faint trace of Cheon Woojung’s pheromones that lingered in the Yeonhui-dong villa was gone.

He recalled memories. On the bedroom floor, the sofa, sometimes the bed.

There were days when he’d indulged in Cheon Woojung as he pleased. Listening to Woojung’s voice, struggling beneath him, was intensely satisfying. Those moments when he was captivated by the gaze that endured and accepted everything, despite being overwhelmed.

It was definitely like that.

Sitting alone on the sofa, Sa Gongjun poured a full glass of whiskey. The drink he usually enjoyed brought no pleasure.

What he needed was something else.

If he could, he’d bring Woojung back right now and hold him. Strip him, lick him, bite him, and yes, literally chew and swallow him to find calm, if that were possible.

An insatiable hunger consumed him. It wasn’t just a desire for human warmth. If it were that simple, he could’ve called someone else to resolve it.

“Damn it, this fucking imprint.”

Sa Gongjun threw the glass at the fireplace. Shards scattered everywhere. Yet the person occupying his mind became even clearer.

Cheon Woojung, Cheon Woojung, Cheon Woojung. His mind was filled with nothing but Cheon Woojung. They said he suffered from a high fever, but had it driven him mad? At the company, in Yeonhui-dong, he couldn’t stop thinking about Woojung.