A Scorching Day Chapter 38

Thwack, thwack. Blood-stained sounds of impact continuously echoed through the room. Manager Hwang, gripping a golf club, was mercilessly beating the boy lying stretched out before him, his face twisted in fury.

“Hah, euk, hah….”

Ki Cheonghyeon, the head of the organization Cheonghyeon (靑現), watched his son with a piercing gaze.

Even under the unending corporal punishment, Ki Joon showed no sign of breaking. Though blood and sweat dripped from him in droplets, and though he sometimes expelled pained breaths, he endured the pouring violence without so much as flinching. In terms of the grit to clench his teeth and endure, he was no less than any of the men under Ki Cheonghyeon’s command.

But if that grit of his one and only cute son was directed against him—he frowned and took a sip of whiskey.

‘Our Manager Hwang is going to have a bottle of soju when he gets home today.’

Meanwhile, Ki Joon was absentmindedly thinking such thoughts. He knew better than anyone what feelings drove Manager Hwang, who had taken care of him more warmly and paternally than his own father since childhood, to strike him.

If he struck half-heartedly, the endless beating would simply return to square one. Knowing this, Manager Hwang wouldn’t be able to stop until Ki Joon’s school uniform pants were not only soaked in blood but completely torn apart. The groans that occasionally escaped from his gritted teeth were pained and agonizing. Perhaps even more so than Ki Joon’s own.

His father’s act of having Manager Hwang, of all people, beat him felt unjust, but in another way, it was more befitting of a father. He must also know that psychological pressure worked better on a son who didn’t even bat an eye no matter how much he was beaten.

“Hyung-nim, stop now. The kid will die at this rate.”

His uncle, Ki Woohyun, who had been sitting across from his father, drinking whiskey and watching the scene, spoke up. Though he feigned concern, a faint hint of amusement colored his voice. And the only one in this room who could keenly detect that was Ki Joon, who was taking the beating.

“For a disobedient bastard, the cane is the medicine.”

His father, Ki Cheonghyeon, said in a displeased voice and waved his hand as a signal to stop. Manager Hwang, sweating and swinging the golf club, put it down and caught his breath. Unable to bear looking at Ki Joon’s bloodied body, he bowed his head.

“Joon isn’t a bastard, he’s your son, hyung-nim.”

“He’s a son only when he listens to me obediently. Anyone who defies my will is not my man.”

His father cut him off sharply and took out a cigar. He cut it with practiced ease, and instructed Ki Woohyun, who was lighting it for him.

“Contact Representative Heo’s side first. Send them the materials related to Representative Kim Jaeseon that they asked for last time.”

“Are you sure? That’s a card you were planning to hold onto a bit longer, wasn’t it?”

Ki Woohyun said that, glancing toward Ki Joon. It was no different from openly snubbing him. It seemed he’d have to pay a hefty price this time.

“It’s fine. He’s just a small-time crook on his way out anyway. Even if we give him those materials, he’s too stupid to use them properly.”

His father waved his hand as if annoyed.

“Yes, sir,” Ki Woohyun answered politely and began to brush himself off, saying he should be going. Ki Joon wiped the dripping blood with the back of his hand and glared at the closing door. Judging by how he’d come saying he had business, only to drink whiskey and leave, it seemed he’d come just to watch him get beaten.

“Get up.”

Ki Joon straightened his body and knelt upright. For a moment, his vision spun. The nearly hour-long beating had left his entire body trembling, but he gritted his teeth and steadied himself.

“You know how much I cherish you, don’t you?”

Harsh cigar smoke burst from his mouth. Ki Joon stared straight at his father’s face through the drifting smoke in the air.

“Cherishing means watching over you. If you were anyone else, I’d have ripped off all your limbs and buried you in a mountain… but because you’re my own flesh and blood, you’re still walking around with all your limbs intact, aren’t you?”

“Thank you. For letting me keep the limbs Father gave me, all this time.”

Ki Joon said with an expressionless face. His father chuckled as if watching his cute son’s antics, and slid his gaze out the window.

“At the last school, well, since you caused a riot with a group, we settled it with a forced transfer. This time, you did it alone, with no room for denial. And against Representative Heo In-gu’s son, no less.”

“…”

“By the way, that Representative Heo is quite the laugh. Last time we played golf together, he was boasting about his son to the skies… I wondered what kind of impressive fellow he was.”

His father snorted and tossed a few photos he’d picked up from the desk. The scattered photos fluttered down onto the floor. The ridiculous sight of him covered in blood and wearing a wig was the very photo Ki Joon himself had taken just hours ago.

“He’s not as good as my son, though. In looks, or anything else.”

“You call that a compliment? Compared to a piece of shit like that.”

Seeing Ki Joon’s harshly scowling face, his father’s smile deepened. Beyond the seemingly benevolent smile, the stench of blood wafted thickly.

“Right, my son is certainly a tough one no matter where you put him.”

He raised his whiskey glass and took a sip.

“But do it in moderation while I’m still willing to let things slide. When I’m providing for you without lack and turning a blind eye, you should at least learn to pretend to cower. That’s how you actually protect your interests. What you did today had absolutely no benefit.”

“Are you satisfied with such pathetic opponents?”

A rough, unrefined voice came out. His father lifted his gaze.

“…What?”

“You told me to take over Cheonghyeon. Do you want me to become a groveling dog, only calculating the scraps that fall my way?”

Ki Cheonghyeon looked at his grown son, kneeling before him, with a half-interested, yet incredulous gaze.

“You’re still a wet-behind-the-ears kid. You need my protection for at least a few more years. Do you even know how much money it’ll cost just to clean up the mess you made today? No, if money could fix it, it’d be easy. But that’s not the kind of thing someone who caused such a huge incident should be saying, is it?”

“You said it yourself before, Father. That sometimes, there are days when your fist has to come before reason or profit.”

Ki Joon cut him off rudely and pushed forward. As he said, there were things that could be solved with money or reason, and things that had to be solved with a fist. Ki Cheonghyeon had taught his son that simple truth through his own life.

And now his cute son was saying that was what he’d learned by watching him. Caught off guard, Ki Cheonghyeon let out a hollow laugh.

“So, that day was today?”

“Yes.”

“…”

“I’m sorry for the losses you incurred because of me. But in the future, if something like that happens again, I’ll deal with those bastards the same way. No, I’ll just kill them.”

Seeing Ki Joon speak calmly with a face that showed not a shred of remorse, Ki Cheonghyeon ran his tongue over his mouth. He put his half-burned cigar into the ashtray and asked.

“Even if you’re stopped from doing what you’ve been doing?”

The test was always the same. Sports. And the freedom to choose his own path. Ki Joon closed his eyes deeply, sick of it. Swallowing a bitter sigh inwardly. As his father said, he would have to suppress his anger on this test stand for at least the next two years.

“Answer carefully. Don’t spout irresponsible words just because you can’t control your anger.”

Ki Joon slowly opened his eyes. Then he silently stared at the man testing him.

For a moment, Yoon Gawon’s face—trembling violently while wearing a wig, crying in a complete mess—came to mind. The moment he recalled that face, hesitation evaporated. Strength filled the fists resting on his knees.

“Yes.”

At his clear answer, his father smiled faintly.

“Right. That’s how it should be.”

His father rose from his seat and slowly put on his jacket. He stubbed out the half-smoked cigar, lit a new one, and put it in his mouth. As he put on his coat, he said in a casual tone, “Oh, by the way.”

“A while ago, apparently some kid—couldn’t tell if it was a girl or a boy—was waiting in front of the house. When asked who it was, they said they were your friend? Is that the kid you went to the police station with earlier? The one who was being bullied by Representative Heo’s son…”

It was when he was smoothing his coat and turning to look at Ki Joon without much thought. Ki Cheonghyeon paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on his son’s face.

Because Ki Joon was looking at him with eyes completely different from before. The kid who, no matter how much he was beaten, would say “do your worst” and relax his strength. He looked at his son, who had suddenly transformed with a smirk, and observed him.

“What’s wrong?”

Ki Joon gave no answer. He kept his mouth tightly shut, but his strangely alert posture made him seem like a wild beast about to bare its fangs. Ki Cheonghyeon watched this new aspect of his son with interest.

“He’s a quiet kid who just studies. And he’s a good kid.”

“I see. What’s your point?”

“He’s not some thug, so don’t you dare touch an innocent kid.”

Showing all your cards like that. Ki Cheonghyeon clicked his tongue but also chuckled. Right, that’s how it should be. Now ready to leave, he looked back at his still-kneeling son and asked lightly.

“Is it because of that kid? The reason you beat up Representative Heo’s son?”

“No. I just beat the shit out of him because I hate that bastard.”

“…Hmm.”

It didn’t match what he’d said earlier. Nevertheless, Ki Cheonghyeon didn’t add more. Since it was a common occurrence even among the men in this business, there was no need to be surprised by his one and only son’s eccentricity. Furthermore, whether he preferred men or women, he had no intention of nagging about personal preferences either.

In any case, he had to take responsibility for his actions. That was more important than where his private affections lay. Nodding to the driver who approached and bowed his head respectfully, he turned his back.

“Stay confined to the house for the time being.”