PEN Vol 1 Ch. 23 : End

His voice, devoid of any particular emotion, was even more chilling for that very reason. Shin Gyoyeon never allowed his subordinates to mess with minors, though why Han Jonghyun was the only exception remained a mystery. Regardless, that’s how it was. Cheon Sejoo shook his head, quickly clearing up the misunderstanding.

“It’s not like that. I’m just looking after him for a while due to some circumstances.”

“…I see.”

At his explanation, Shin Gyoyeon stared at him with a calm gaze before finally nodding in acknowledgment Relieved that his explanation seemed to have been accepted without suspicion, Cheon Sejoo quietly exhaled in relief and held the elevator door open as it arrived.

“After you.”

Shin Gyoyeon lived on the 43rd floor, just two floors above Cheon Sejoo’s apartment—a distance close enough for him to rush down and handle any situation if something happened. Despite Cheon Sejoo’s sudden visit, Shin Gyoyeon didn’t question his intentions. He simply opened the door and disappeared into his apartment without further comment.

Following him inside, Cheon Sejoo took in the unchanged interior of the apartment. The stark contrast between the monotonous, monochrome interior and the bright, cheerful paintings was unsettling, to say the least.

It was the perfect home befitting for someone like Shin Gyoyeon—a psychopath. Even though Cheon Sejoo’s place was sparse and empty due to the lack of furniture, it at least had a bit more warmth than this.

“Whiskey?”

Shin Gyoyeon, having taken off his jacket and draped it over a chair, turned to Cheon Sejoo and asked.

“No, I’m fine,” Cheon Sejoo shook his head, declining the drink. Shin Gyoyeon poured himself a glass of it and then strode briskly towards the study at the end of the hallway.

Cheon Sejoo watched as he took a seat in front of the computer, then moved to follow and stand behind the monitor.

“What about the source of the funds?”

Shin Gyoyeon’s direct question, delivered as he moved the mouse, indicated that he had no time for pleasantries.

Cheon Sejoo met his gaze and answered.

“There isn’t one. There’s no record of any money received by the deliveryman.”

“…None?”

Shin Gyoyeon had also taken a keen interest in this particular delivery incident And it was only natural, given that this was one of the most sensitive operations DG was involved in. Even with connections among high-ranking police officials, once drug-related matters spread publicly through someone’s loose lips, there was only so much damage control they could manage.

Though rotten on the inside, South Korea still appeared to be a drug-free nation on the surface, and there were plenty of people who trembled in fear at the mere mention of marijuana, which was legal in some other countries.

The moment an article is published, they’d have to prepare and brace for chaos.

Thus, in order to avoid causing trouble with the politicians and business elites who turned a blind eye to their children’s club visits, they had to manage everything meticulously.

“The drugs were stolen, but no money came in…”

Shin Gyoyeon repeated Cheon Sejoo’s words, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the desk.

Tap, tap.

The steady sound flowed and Cheon Sejoo waited in silence, his hands clasped behind his back.

After a moment, Shin Gyoyeon asked.

“So, what’s your conclusion?”

“I believe it was the deliveryman acting alone.”

As Cheon Sejoo drove home in silence, with Sejin sitting beside him, he had come to this conclusion. There were plenty of people who held grudges against DG. However, none of them were likely to carry out such a poorly executed plan.

The drugs hadn’t arrived on time. As soon as this was discovered, Shin Jihan had immediately apprehended the first deliveryman. Dragged out of his home while he was asleep, the deliveryman had insisted on his innocence. Once it was confirmed that his claim was true, Shin Jihan turned his attention and searched for the second deliveryman.

However, the second deliveryman had already gone into hiding, prompting Shin Jihan to seek Shin Gyoyeon’s assistance.

Under Shin Gyoyeon’s orders, Cheon Sejoo’s disposal team tracked down the second deliveryman, who had been hiding near Incheon Port. Once discovered and brought to the workshop, the deliveryman initially remained silent but eventually, under severe torture, he finally opened his mouth, and his words were consistent.

The deliveryman claimed he had only followed the orders from above and revealed the location of the drugs. He admitted that he had hidden the drugs inside Shin Jihan’s club. When asked why he held out for so long if he was going to talk anyway, he added that those from above had strictly ordered him not to speak. The “above” the delivery man referred to was Dalma.

Thus, the conclusion was clear.

This was something the deliveryman had done out of spite against Dalma.

“Are you sure?”

If asked to explain why he thought so, Cheon Sejoo could give plenty of reasons. However, Shin Gyoyeon asked him only one thing, how much he trusted his own judgment.

Even though the man Cheon Sejoo served might be a psychopath, he was someone who valued and trusted his subordinates unconditionally. Knowing this, he could freely speak his mind without hesitation.

“I’m about 90% sure.”

At his response, Shin Gyoyeon let out a small laugh and looked up at Cheon Sejoo, his chilling gaze locking directly onto him. He leaned back and crossed his arms before he asked.

“What about the remaining 10%?”

“Dalma tried to steal the drugs but failed and pinned the blame on the deliveryman.”

However, there were many significant holes in this speculation, something that Shin Gyoyeon could easily recognize without Cheon Sejoo having to explain further. Slowly tilting his head, the man spoke to Cheon Sejoo.

“There’s no reason for that, is there?”

“No, that’s why it’s only a 9% chance.”

There was still the 1% possibility remaining. Shin Gyoyeon raised the corner of his lips, intrigued, signaling with a slight nod for him to explain. Cheon Sejoo then laid out his final speculation.

“I suspect one of the organization’s executives is involved.”

“They must be out of their mind.”

“I think the same.”

If the “above” the deliveryman mentioned was indeed one of the organization’s executives, his behavior would make sense. He wouldn’t have opened his mouth easily because it was an order from an executive. However, none of the executives in the organization would be reckless enough to openly defy Shin Gyoyeon in such a sloppy manner.

Those who had expressed dissatisfaction over Chairman Shin Gyeongju’s decision to designate his successor were already dead.

It hadn’t even been two years since a bloody purge swept through, and no one with any common sense would try to orchestrate something like this after witnessing it firsthand.

Moreover, Shin Gyoyeon was now in a position where no one could harm him, no matter what anyone tried. So unless they were completely out of their mind, such a thing couldn’t possibly happen.

“I did see Director Han Jonghyun at the location where we found the drugs, but I don’t think he has anything to do with this.”

Cheon Sejoo added confidently. At this, Shin Gyoyeon raised an eyebrow and scoffed, clearly uninterested in anything concerning Han Jonghyun. He seemed to think for a moment and then nodded.

“You’ve done well.”

Without any further words, Shin Gyoyeon shifted his attention back to his monitor, signaling that there was no longer a need to investigate the matter further. It seemed that he was convinced by the 90% chance.

With that, Cheon Sejoo quietly bowed his head to excused himself and left the study.

Click.

After closing the door behind him, he let out a long sigh and walked away.

The further he got from that cold, desolate space, the easier it became to breathe again. Even after five years of working under him, being around that man always left him feeling uncomfortable every time they met. Running a hand roughly through his hair, Cheon Sejoo shut the door to Unit 4300 behind him and the took the elevator that was waiting in place, heading back to the 41st floor.

What was waiting when the elevator doors opened, however, was Sejin, once again crouched by the front door, just as he had been before. Faced with his dejected and gloomy figure, Cheon Sejoo’s brow furrowed sharply .

Why does he always sit like that?

A wave of annoyance welled up inside him.

“What are you doing? I told you to wait inside.”

At Cheon Sejoo’s cold and low voice, Sejin rose to his feet and replied.

“I don’t know the passcode.”

“Didn’t you take the key card?”

He had told him before to use the key card stored in the shoe cabinet by the entrance, but it seemed Sejin hadn’t bothered to take it. Then again, every time Sejin had gone out, it had always been with him, and on days he pretended to go to school, he’d just stayed cooped up at home. It was no surprise he didn’t know where the key card was.

With a brief sigh, Cheon Sejoo pressed in the passcode.

“2580*. Memorize it.”

It was a sequence of numbers that could easily be pressed in a straight line, which was very easy to remember. Sejin gave him a look as if questioning his lack of concern for security , then quickly nodded.

“Got it,” he replied shortly, and with that, Sejoo muttered under his breath as he walked inside first.

“At least you’re not completely stupid.”

“…….”

Sejin’s pretty face, reflected in the interior door, clearly showed his displeasure. Seeing his lively reaction eased some of Cheon Sejoo’s frustration. He walked into the living room and gestured toward the sofa, signaling Sejin, who followed him, to sit down.

He still had something to say, something he hadn’t been able to finish earlier.

Once Sejin sat down with a sullen expression, Cheon Sejoo searched through his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He hesitated, seeing how clean the ashtray was, but lit the cigarette anyway and took a drag. After taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he asked Sejin the question that had been bothering him.

“What rank are you in at school?”

“…21st.”

Surprised by the unexpected answer, Cheon Sejoo raised an eyebrow. His eyes gleamed as the corners of his eyes lifted.

21st place, despite skipping school that much?

He’s smarter than I expected.

He thought, but then, noticing Sejin avoiding his gaze and looking away, Cheon Sejoo realized something was off.

“You mean 21st in the whole school, right?”

“…….”

He asked for clarification, but there was no response. Cheon Sejoo frowned, feeling a sense of disbelief creeping in him.

But still, 21st place in the class wasn’t bad—it was at least in the upper half, right?

However, that assumption came from Cheon Sejoo’s own high school experience, back when there were around 41 students in each class. Without knowing the actual class size, he continued to ask.

“How many kids are in your class?”

Cheon Sejoo still thought that as long as there were around 30 students, it wouldn’t be too bad.

At that level, that would be enough to at least regard him as a respectable person. He leisurely took a drag from his cigarette, expecting a reasonable answer. Sejin hesitated, then finally muttered in a small voice.

“Twenty-one.”

Cheon Sejoo was left speechless.

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖Continues in Projection Volume 2⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

　　　.   　　˚　✭　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　✭　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　.   　　˚　✭　 　　 ✦

T/N: Finally done with Volume 1! Didn’t expect the end though T-T

Sejin… this tsundere kid is something else lmao, I’m expecting so much once he grows up. Still can’t believe Sejoo is the bottom T-T