Underpainting Chapter 10.1 - Vanishing Point (1)

<Kid.>

Taehan’s voice calling Dawon was achingly sweet. Even though Dawon suspected this moment was a dream, he couldn’t let go of a sliver of hope and looked up at him. His heart pounded as he gazed at the beautiful, vivid face he remembered, with eyes as dark as a winter night.

<Kid, Dawon.>

The words that followed extinguished that fragile hope. This was definitely a dream. Taehan had never called Dawon by his name. Wanting to etch his low voice and gentle smile into his memory, Dawon stared at him, holding his breath, without even blinking.

He had, however, worn such a tender expression before. Searching his memories of Taehan, Dawon recalled that day. The image of Taehan holding him as he sobbed, recounting his brother Jaewook’s story.

That day, Taehan’s warmth had felt like it could envelop all of Dawon’s past hardships, and his touch was gentle and cautious. Embraced by him, Dawon felt like he could confide anything and be understood completely.

It was a feeling he’d experienced for the first time in his life. More accurately, Dawon felt like he was reborn in that moment. Before he could even name the feeling that made his chest feel like it would burst, betrayal and shock had pushed him over the edge of a deep cliff.

<Mister.>

The moment he called out that word, his frozen heart melted instantly to its core. He’d hated him so fiercely, yet meeting him again, even in a dream, erased the resentment, leaving only the same tender, overwhelming emotions he’d felt back then.

Dawon slowly approached Taehan and leaned his weary body against his shoulder. Just like that day, Taehan in the dream embraced him warmly. As Dawon’s trembling hands wrapped around Taehan’s back, questions he hadn’t thought of before flooded his mind.

Just as thinking he wanted to die meant he was in unbearable pain, had his hatred and rejection of Taehan been a plea not to be pushed away? Had he simply not known how to ask for an explanation, an apology?

Had his heart ached so intensely because he had already given it completely to Taehan? Did those feelings still linger, undiminished and unclouded, by his side?

Dawon choked back his tears. He felt that if he cried now, Taehan would realize it was a dream. Even if this dream would vanish when he woke, he wanted it to last a little longer.

<Mister, Mister…>

Even as he pleaded, Taehan’s scent faded. Dawon hugged him tighter. Even if his chest felt like it was tearing apart from suppressing his desperate tears, he didn’t want to let go of this moment.

<Don’t go. Please? We finally met again. Don’t go…>

But no matter how tightly he held on, time flowed on, and dust returned to dust. In the end, Dawon woke up on a tear-soaked pillow, clutching his torn heart.

No sigh escaped his heavy chest. He had countless times thought reality was more painful than dreams, but this pain was different. He had simply woken from a dream, but he felt an immense sense of loss.

Turning his head with an empty heart, he saw his older brother, who had come to check on him, sitting beside the bed. Dawon’s eyes immediately fell on the phone screen his brother was looking at. In the center of the screen was a picture of the “accident scene” he’d seen on the news before losing consciousness.

“Are you watching the news?”

Dawon’s words startled his brother. He seemed to have been so absorbed in deciphering the news article in his broken Korean that he hadn’t noticed Dawon waking up.

“Uh, yeah, it’s nothing. You’re awake? Feeling better now?”

“Let me see.”

His brother looked flustered and tried to hide the phone behind his back, but Dawon had already snatched it. With frighteningly focused eyes, he quickly scanned the article. Ignoring his brother’s protests, he asked him how to find more articles and began searching.

Dawon spent hours that day, until nightfall, scouring the news and reading articles about the gas explosion.

When his brother, deprived of his phone, started fidgeting restlessly, Dawon even borrowed their housekeeper’s phone.

He didn’t have to search hard. Everywhere he clicked online, the story of the accident dominated. However, most articles focused on the criminal charges against the new CEO of SeoChang Construction, rather than the explosion itself.

The discovery of ten bodies buried in the garden during the cleanup and the revelation that the CEO of a publicly traded company, long rumored to be involved with organized crime, was implicated in their deaths, was enough to shock everyone.

The fact that the police leadership had tried to bury the case due to their connections with SeoChang Construction, but a single prosecutor’s swift action brought the truth to light, also captivated public attention.

But Dawon had no interest in any of that. The truth he sought was solely why the house had exploded and the identity of the “one Alpha male corpse,” the sole victim of the explosion.

‘It can’t be Mister. Everyone must be mistaken. Ahjussi had left that house a long time ago and was staying at a hotel.’

When he first started reading the articles, Dawon held onto a sliver of hope. He deliberately ignored the possibility that Taehan might have returned to the house after he left.

Indeed, earlier reports referred to the body found inside as an “unidentified male.” However, as Dawon checked more recent articles, his hope gradually turned to ice.

The prosecution, based on the deceased’s belongings and the recent movements of “Director Ryu of SeoChang Construction,” had confirmed the body was Taehan. The reason they couldn’t identify him initially was due to the severe damage to the body caused by the intense flames.

“Ugh…Ugh…”

Reading the description of the scene as it was first discovered, Dawon was overcome with nausea and ran to the bathroom. He vomited up only bile, having not eaten all day. When he came out, the housekeeper, looking anxious, tried to support him.

He couldn’t understand what he was saying, but it seemed like he was trying to comfort and dissuade him. He was someone who had experienced the same, perhaps even greater, pain than him. He seemed to be telling him to stop, to rest, that this too shall pass.

But Dawon couldn’t stop. Beyond lingering feelings or emotional pain, Dawon still had something to do. After forcing the housekeeper out of the room, Dawon continued to fiddle with his phone.

His head throbbed, and his stomach burned, but his mind was unusually clear. He wasn’t holding back tears. It wasn’t the time to cry, nor did he deserve to.

‘It’s my fault.’

The more he read and learned about the incident, the more he felt that way. It wasn’t the vague self-blame common among the emotionally vulnerable. This incident truly was his fault.

The gas explosion at the two-story house was not an accident but deliberate. The investigation had revealed a crack in the gas pipe connected to the kitchen, a crack that wasn’t caused naturally but intentionally damaged.

The moment he read that, a sharp ringing, like the one he’d heard when he first heard the news, filled Dawon’s ears. Something clicked.

On the day he left the house, Dawon had smelled gas coming from somewhere while he was in Taehan’s room and had gone downstairs. He’d encountered his eldest uncle in the living room, acting suspiciously, like someone who had done something wrong.

But then, after hearing what his eldest uncle said, consumed by intense feelings of betrayal towards Taehan, he’d completely forgotten about the gas smell. Now that he thought about it, it was clear his uncle had tampered with the gas pipe.

‘This happened because I didn’t tell him.’

Dawon had resented Taehan and felt a rage that made his blood run cold, but he had never wished him harm. Even when he left him, he intended to end his own life, not Taehan’s; he hadn’t even imagined Taehan’s death.

Yet, caught up in his own emotions, he had failed to convey something crucial. It was an accident that could have been prevented if he had spoken up. At the very least, Taehan wouldn’t have returned to that house.

Along with a regret that felt like his heart was rotting away, a new rage began to blossom within Dawon. He pictured his eldest uncle’s shameless face in that two-story house, reeking of gas, trying to hide something.

‘I should have killed him a long time ago.’

After his mother’s death, the reason Dawon hadn’t killed his uncle with his own hands but instead made long-term plans was the fear of retaliation. He thought it was better to wait for the right moment rather than to fail and die a meaningless death.

He thought the time for revenge had finally come when he met Taehan, but after his hopes were crushed and he lost all meaning in life, even the murderous intent he held towards his eldest uncle felt pointless. The unprecedented loss and shock had even dulled his resentment.

But now, that dormant resentment was rekindled within Dawon, fiercer and more profound than ever before. It consumed him entirely. The people Dawon cared for, those who had given meaning to his meaningless life, had all been killed by his eldest uncle.

‘I have to do it now.’

Dawon no longer considered the possibility of retaliation. That was a concern for someone who still cared about the future. Dawon had already resolved to die. Whether he succeeded or failed, even if he died a futile death, if he could inflict even a small wound on his eldest uncle, he would.

‘Yes. It’s my fault, so I have to finish it.’

With a pale face, Dawon looked down at the housekeeper’s phone. Although he had never called anyone in his life, Dawon, with his sharp memory, had memorized a few numbers.

He knew the number written on the paper bag from the art supply store, the art auctioneer’s number he’d seen on a poster at the auction house. And he also clearly remembered the number on the business card his eldest uncle had left behind at the two-story house—his uncle’s number.

His brief hesitation before dialing wasn’t from fear. He was simply contemplating how to lure his uncle out and how to inflict the most damage. Once resolved, Dawon dialed the number he remembered.

― Hello?

A familiar voice answered, and rage boiled inside him. Dawon swallowed his urge to scream and spoke.

“Uncle. It’s me.”

A gasp of surprise came from the other end of the line, followed by a flurry of incoherent words.

― Wh-what? Da-Dawon? Is that you? Do you know how much I’ve been looking for you? Where the hell did that bastard Namkyu take you? Huh? Don’t you have any brains? Running away with such a clueless idiot! No, this isn’t the time. Where are you?

“Yeah, well…it didn’t work out with Second Uncle. I guess what Eldest Uncle always said was right.”

From his words, it seemed his eldest uncle didn’t know that his second uncle was already dead, nor that Taehan had been hiding Dawon. His eldest uncle remained silent for a moment, breathing heavily, after Dawon’s casual reply.

He was probably excited that his lost source of income was about to return, and busy thinking about how to get his hands on Dawon. Dawon continued, baiting him.

“I can’t talk long right now. Can you come see me tonight? If you say you’re coming, I’ll find a way to sneak out.”

His eldest uncle eagerly agreed, repeatedly saying he could come, that he would go anywhere. As Dawon hung up, his eyes were chillingly cold.

Dawon decided to kill his uncle tomorrow.

Meanwhile, Maknae, who had driven Taehan to the two-story house after the SeoChang Construction board meeting, was basking in premature elation. While ambition was a common trait among those involved in organized crime, Maknae possessed an exceptional amount.

His older colleagues in the organization often mocked him for his lofty dreams and lack of substance. However, to Maknae, his colleagues, who seemed content to spend their lives cleaning up after others, looked far more pathetic.

Maknae’s ambition was the reason he volunteered to work under Ryu Taehan. Other Alphas avoided the position due to Taehan’s overwhelming pheromones, which caused headaches just being near him. But Maknae believed working under the future second-in-command would benefit his own future.

[Arrived]

The moment he parked in front of the house’s garden, Maknae sent the prearranged message to President Seo. As he got out of the car and entered the house, Ryu Taehan, who had until then been all talk, finally wore an expression of suffering.

Maknae couldn’t suppress a sneer. Taehan, known for his strength, sharpness, and unwavering discipline, now looked haggard and listless, as if he hadn’t eaten in days, perhaps due to the shock of being abandoned by President Seo.

To think he was obediently walking into the house where he would die, oblivious to the faint smell of gas. Maknae almost felt sorry for his past self for wanting to be loyal to such a man.

‘Second-in-command? This guy?’

When Taehan sent him back to headquarters, Maknae thought his future in the organization was over. He immediately realized it was because of Kwon Dawon. Ryu Taehan had protected that useless cripple from the beginning.

Whether it was because of Kwon Dawon or something else, Ryu Taehan, uncharacteristically, tried to steal Choi Beomsik’s business in a way that could cause trouble. Giving Choi Beomsik President Seo’s home address was an impulsive act of spite against Ryu Taehan.

He never imagined this impulsive act would work out so well. Choi Beomsik, as expected, charmed President Seo. President Seo treated Choi Beomsik like a long-lost friend, and Maknae, who had connected them, also caught President Seo’s eye.

‘Yeah, I knew what I was doing. If I was going to get on someone’s good side, it was better to be with the President than that empty shell. I should have picked this side sooner.’

As Maknae suspected, rumors soon spread among Taehan’s men that he was involved with Kwon Dawon. Seeing how Ryu Taehan kept crossing the line with President Seo, it seemed likely.

He hadn’t reported it to President Seo, thinking it would be useful to have leverage someday. Then, Kwon Dawon suddenly disappeared. After that, the situation became even more favorable for Maknae.

With Dawon gone, Ryu Taehan became more distracted and disheveled, and with the art business on the verge of collapse, Choi Beomsik also lost President Seo’s favor. Maknae seized the opportunity.

‘Serves that Kwon Dawon right. He was a nuisance from the start… Since he ran off with that stuttering pervert, he’s probably getting pounded senseless right now.’

Chuckling to himself, Maknae imagined Kwon Dawon’s reddish eyes and stubborn lips and swallowed. He felt a pang of regret that he hadn’t had a taste himself, since things turned out this way.

‘No, wait. When I become the second-in-command of SeoChang Construction, I can have three or four of those kinds lined up at once, for fuck’s sake.’

It might be overly optimistic, but not entirely unfounded. Wouldn’t the most suitable person to eliminate the previous second-in-command be the new one?

That was why, setting aside his personal resentment, Maknae was secretly overjoyed when President Seo tasked him with dealing with Ryu Taehan. He couldn’t contain his excitement at the thought of burying Ryu Taehan here today and rising to become a prominent figure in the organization.

“Mr. Ryu Taehan, your belongings have been gathered over there. Please go and take care of them yourself.”

At Maknae’s words, Ryu Taehan obediently headed towards the kitchen. Seeing his back, the reality of what he had to do finally sunk in. Maknae reached for the weapon he’d concealed.

A rubber-coated steel rod. He’d been told a blow to the head with this would leave little external injury, but the victim would either die instantly or lose consciousness. It felt heavy and unfamiliar in his hand, being the first time he used it, but he’d chosen it because he thought he needed this level of impact to take down Ryu Taehan.

As he raised the thick, heavy rod, a sudden chill ran down his spine, and his heart tightened. An indescribable, sharp, and unsettling aura emanated from the back of the man who had just moments ago seemed so weak and pathetic.

There was no reason to be nervous. Even if this was his first time killing someone, and even if that someone was the infamous monster, Ryu Taehan, attacking from behind like this made it almost impossible to fail.

‘Fuck, no need to be scared. Just swing!’

Maknae squeezed his eyes shut as he swung the rod. Keeping his eyes on the target was a fundamental rule of fighting, but this situation was so predictable he could ignore even that. Ryu Taehan would surely collapse without a scream.

The trap was already set. Since Maknae had sent the arrival message, the detonator would be triggered in about 20 minutes, turning this gas-filled kitchen into an inferno. He had more than enough time to escape.

President Seo had already made arrangements with the local police. This would be handled as a simple gas leak accident, and Maknae wouldn’t be suspected. So, all he had to do was bring the rod down on Ryu Taehan’s head…

“Ugh!”

But what Maknae felt next wasn’t the jarring sensation of a blunt weapon hitting a skull, but a strong, firm grip twisting his wrist.

As his eyes flew open, he met the man’s gaze. Gone was the air of despondency; Taehan’s eyes now held their usual cruel and sharp glint.

‘How…?’

Until the moment he swung, he had clearly seen only Taehan’s back. It was a distance impossible to react to without prior anticipation. Could it be that Taehan had predicted this?

As Maknae’s eyes widened in bewilderment, Taehan released an oppressive pheromone. A feeling of suffocation gripped him, his fingertips tingling, and he was disarmed almost effortlessly.

Thump. Maknae’s body crumpled to the floor with a blow to the side of his head. The shock was so great that he felt no pain, as if all his nerves had been severed. His head spun, and strength drained from his limbs.

Large hands rummaged through his fallen body, pulling his phone and wallet from his jacket pocket and seemingly replacing them with something else. He tried to speak, but only a strange groan escaped his throat.

“Uh…ugh…”

He felt like he was dying, but he couldn’t move. His mind went blank, leaving no time to consider when his plan had been discovered.

Maknae’s limp body was dragged further into the kitchen. His forced-open eyes slid shut. The last thing he saw were Ryu Taehan’s shoes walking calmly away.

A few minutes after the fire at the two-story house was extinguished, Gwangwoo entered the basement through the garage passage connected to the back of the house. The air was still thick with smoke, making it difficult to breathe, but this was their only chance to escape.

Just as Taehan had instructed, Gwangwoo felt a small protrusion as he ran his hand along the basement corridor wall. It was a secret door disguised as a wall. While the wooden surface was scorched, the thick concrete interior remained largely unaffected by the fire.

“Are you alright?”

At his whispered question, a large shadow emerged silently from the dark room. Seeing Taehan without a scratch, though his mood seemed still somber, Gwangwoo’s face showed genuine relief.

Leaving the house through the passage, they crouched low and walked to the car Gwangwoo had brought. The firefighters, busy dealing with the reporters crowding the front gate, seemed to have no time to spare for the back of the building.

“I’ve contacted the reporters and Prosecutor Shin. The reporters are already there, and Prosecutor Shin said he’s heading to the scene with some trustworthy investigators.”

“Did you tell Prosecutor Shin only what I told you to?”

“Yes. I said that you followed someone from President Seo’s side after the board meeting, that we haven’t been able to contact you since, and that something felt off. He seemed to understand immediately. I’ll hand over the materials to him after the scene is processed.”

Taehan loosened his tie and nodded. Thanks to their previous meeting, Prosecutor Shin would have immediately grasped the gravity of the situation from those words alone.

As a professional, he would likely recognize the nature of the house upon arrival. Even if he didn’t, the evidence Taehan had prepared would allow him to piece together the bigger picture easily. The bigger picture of bringing down SeoChang Construction.

“What about President Seo?”

“He seemed quite flustered after hearing that investigators were dispatched from headquarters, not the local police station. He was waiting for Maknae to contact him after finishing the job.”

The situation was unfolding precisely as predicted, almost comically so. Taehan pulled Maknae’s phone from his jacket pocket. Even while Taehan waited in the basement’s hidden room, the impatient Seo Gihyuk had called several times.

“Since he’s waiting, I should give him a call.”

At Taehan’s gesture, Gwangwoo handed over his own phone, which held the saved recording. As Taehan dialed Seo Gihyuk with Maknae’s phone, Seo Gihyuk answered before the first ring finished.

― You bastard, where are you? You said you’d contact me right after you were done. Where the hell are you slacking off? Do you have any idea what’s going on? How did you screw up so badly that headquarters got involved?!

Maknae rarely handled tasks correctly on the first try. So, extracting usable voice clips for this situation from the recordings of their conversations was a simple task.

― I’m sorry. Things got a little complicated. I’ll take care of it soon.

Timed with the end of Seo Gihyuk’s sentence, Taehan played the recording from Gwangwoo’s phone. Seo Gihyuk’s ranting on the other end intensified. There was no need to listen further, so Taehan simply switched off Maknae’s phone.

This would make Seo Gihyuk a witness to Maknae being alive after the gas explosion. Completely unaware that it was a trap Taehan had laid.

“Are you sure everything went well? I thought about checking the first floor myself, but it seemed too risky.”

Gwangwoo asked, a trace of unease in his voice, but Taehan’s expression remained unwavering.

“I took care of it. Don’t worry. The place is a mess anyway; it’ll be hard to tell which pile of charcoal is the body.”

Through the CCTV installed in Seo Gihyuk’s reception room, Taehan had known from the beginning that Seo Gihyuk planned to lure him to the two-story house and eliminate him. Seo Gihyuk, in his boastfulness, had even revealed the location of the detonator during his conversation with Choi Beomsik.

Before hiding in the basement, Taehan had dragged the unconscious Maknae and placed him right next to the detonator. The explosion originated near Maknae’s face and his hands, which Taehan had placed together. Not only would his face and fingerprints be unidentifiable, but Maknae’s body would likely be missing its head and hands entirely.

“And give this to Prosecutor Shin, too.”

Taehan handed Gwangwoo an envelope he had retrieved from the basement’s hidden room. Inside the sealed envelope were the belongings of the victims buried in the garden of the two-story house.

“Understood. I’ll leave immediately.”

With a nod from Taehan, Gwangwoo drove towards the prepared hideout. They had to stay hidden for a while to avoid being seen.

Watching the two-story house receding in the side mirror, Taehan thought about his “death” and the charred remains left behind. Even an autopsy wouldn’t reveal anything more than the fact that it was the body of an Alpha male.

And just as everyone said, Maknae was useless, except for being an Alpha. Taehan had simply made use of that sole utility. The body found burned to a crisp in the kitchen of the two-story house today would be recorded as Taehan’s.

“Lawyer Kim. Do I really have to go? This situation is incredibly disappointing. People who should know better… This should have been handled discreetly, without needing to summon the CEO.”

In the parking lot of the Seoul Central District Prosecutor’s Office, Seo Gihyuk grumbled to his lawyer before his summons. The lawyer, with a grim expression, was worried about his client, who seemed oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“This isn’t the time for that. You already refused to appear for the summons two days ago. If you don’t appear again, a warrant will be issued immediately.”

“Well, that’s because…they’re summoning someone who’s innocent…”

Seo Gihyuk’s voice trailed off weakly. The evidence already presented to the media was enough to incriminate him heavily. The lawyer, rubbing his temples, said, “Let me remind you one last time before we go in. I’ll be present, but I can’t answer the questions for you. Regarding the bodies buried in the garden, you must state that the deceased Director Ryu acted without your instruction. And that the gas explosion and Director Ryu’s death were the sole acts of the missing gang member.”

“Do you think I’m stupid? I remember that much.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing else that could be a problem? I’m concerned that you weren’t present at the scene during the seizure and search…”

“No, there’s nothing. There’s no one cleaner than me.”

Seo Gihyuk’s defensive response deepened the lawyer’s worries. He could only hope that the man he had to defend wasn’t the worst kind of client—one who lied even to his own lawyer.

As they passed through the photo lineup and entered the recording room inside the prosecutor’s office, Prosecutor Shin Myungho, nicknamed “Viper,” greeted the suspect. Seo Gihyuk, attempting a friendly approach, began, “Oh, Prosecutor Shin. I’ve heard so much about you. My father asked me to send his regards, saying he was grateful for your work on Congressman Kang Hyungu’s case.”

“……Please, have a seat.”

Prosecutor Shin dismissed the inappropriate greeting with a curt reply, as if it wasn’t worth acknowledging. The lawyer, sensing a chilling animosity, as if driven by personal vendetta, knew this investigation wouldn’t be easy.

Finally reading the room, Seo Gihyuk’s expression turned anxious. When questioned about the nineteen counts of murder for hire, he regurgitated his rehearsed answer.

“The victims all had something in common; they were so-called ‘opposition’ figures who didn’t want Mr. Seo Gihyuk’s succession. And Mr. Seo Gihyuk had the clearest motive for their deaths.”

“I don’t know if Director Ryu did it out of loyalty to me, but I have no knowledge of this. I haven’t met any of the deceased recently, nor have I been to that house. More importantly, I didn’t hold any official position in the company until I officially became CEO. I wasn’t in a position to give Director Ryu any orders.”

“Well, our analysis of the victims’ belongings revealed a very specific substance. Are you aware that the same substance was found in large quantities at your residence, Mr. Seo Gihyuk, and in the new workspace you recently set up in the basement of SeoChang Construction headquarters?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Seo Gihyuk’s eyes wavered.

“W-what are you talking about? Specific substance? Workspace…?”

“You recently attempted to acquire a counterfeit art business, didn’t you? Isn’t that business located across from the house where the gas explosion occurred?”

“That case is irrelevant to… No, I mean, I don’t know anything about that business.”

“According to consistent statements from SeoChang Construction insiders, you put considerable pressure on Director Ryu Taehan regarding that business. You also fired all the employees under him, correct?”

“Well, disagreements are bound to happen in the course of business…”

“According to Director Ryu Taehan’s work journal, it appears you ordered the purge of the ‘opposition’ while threatening Director Ryu with dismissal due to the conflict over the art business. Is that correct?”

This was the only part that differed from Taehan’s report. Taehan had clearly stated that Seo Gihyuk had completed the purge before becoming CEO. As a flustered Seo Gihyuk struggled for words, Prosecutor Shin pressed on.

“Director Ryu’s work journal is a highly credible document. It meticulously details the orders he received and carried out over his ten years at SeoChang Construction, and it aligns perfectly with objectively verifiable events and evidence from those times. Including this incident, of course.”

“I don’t know anything about that. Those people, Ryu Taehan took care of them before I became CEO…”

“Here are the victims’ call logs and financial records. It’s clear that the purge occurred after Director Ryu lost his power, and you, Mr. Seo Gihyuk, began wielding absolute authority as CEO of SeoChang.”

Seo Gihyuk began to grasp the situation. Ryu Taehan, stripped of his loyal subordinates, had orchestrated this setup to trap Seo Gihyuk alone. The realization sent a surge of anger through him.

“I don’t know anything about this crap! Ryu Taehan fabricated everything. Just like you said, Prosecutor, he’s a meticulous bastard. I told him to take care of those guys ages ago, there’s no way he would have waited until after my inauguration…”

As Seo Gihyuk blurted out his words in a frenzy, he stopped abruptly, noticing the horrified expression on his lawyer’s face. He couldn’t quite recall what he’d said, but he knew he’d crossed a line.

“No, what I just said was a slip of the tongue. A mistake. I misspoke… Hahaha. Uh…this is being recorded…isn’t it?”

Prosecutor Shin smiled faintly at Seo Gihyuk’s floundering.

“I informed you that the recording had started when I read you your rights.”

“No, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m a law-abiding citizen, so this is my first time here. You know what I mean, Prosecutor.”

“Even without your statement, several SeoChang Construction employees have testified that you ordered Director Ryu to purge the opposition. Though they claimed to be unaware whether Director Ryu actually carried it out.”

“Who said that? If you just tell me who they are…”

“It wasn’t any one person in particular… It’s your habit of saying things like ‘troublesome people need to be dealt with,’ or ‘I took care of them,’ or ‘you have to get your hands dirty to get to this position.’ Isn’t that right, Mr. Seo Gihyuk? Some of the victims even said you dealt with them personally.”

“……”

“Oh, you know Mr. Choi Beomsik, right? He also heard you say those things.”

“What? Even that Choi Beomsik… What did that bastard say?”

Even cornered, Seo Gihyuk’s eyes blazed with fury at the thought of someone he considered beneath him betraying him.

“Hmm… Alright. Then let’s talk about the gas explosion incident in XX-dong. Mr. Choi Beomsik testified that about a month before the incident, at your request, he attempted to damage the gas pipes in the house where the explosion occurred. Is this true?”

“That ungrateful bastard…said that?”

“And twenty days before the incident, you asked Lee Yun-jong, the head of the technical team at SeoChang Construction, to build a detonator.”

“No, that, that… I don’t know. That was Maknae acting alone.”

Seo Gihyuk offered his prepared excuse, but it seemed to have no effect. Prosecutor Shin slowly nodded and pulled out a document from the file.

“You deny the charges. Very well. We already have plenty of evidence, and there’s much more to discuss today.”

While Seo Gihyuk looked bewildered, his lawyer’s face paled as he glanced at the document spread on the table. It detailed the illegal flow of funds surrounding SeoChang Construction over the past few years.

The seizure and search of SeoChang Construction headquarters and Seo Gihyuk’s residence had been only three days ago. It was practically impossible to process such a vast amount of data and information in that time. The search must have been a formality; the prosecution had already received a perfectly organized set of data from someone.

As the lawyer, sensing his client’s impending doom, fell into despair, Prosecutor Shin calmly asked Seo Gihyuk, “There’s not a single area untouched. Frankly, I was surprised myself when I reviewed the data. Embezzlement, breach of trust, stock manipulation, accounting fraud… Now, where shall we begin?”

[Breaking News. Seo Gihyuk, CEO of SeoChang Construction, under investigation for multiple charges including the gas explosion incident in XX-dong, was apprehended this morning while attempting to flee the country via Incheon Airport.]

Following the anchor’s announcement, the news footage switched to CCTV footage of the airport. Seo Gihyuk, seen standing with a tense expression in front of the immigration counter, began to violently struggle as several officers approached and surrounded him.

[Mr. Seo, despite a travel ban, demanded to board a flight to Macau and reportedly caused a disturbance for about 30 minutes, including assaulting airport staff who tried to restrain him.]

The CCTV footage blurred as the scene shifted to police rushing towards the immigration counter where the commotion occurred. Taehan had already received a report about the incident at the airport. The police subdued Seo Gihyuk with a taser, and he was transported unconscious to a detention center.

[SeoChang Construction claims Mr. Seo’s trip was pre-planned and unrelated to the investigation, and stated their cooperation with the prosecution. However, the prosecution, having secured Mr. Seo, plans to request an arrest warrant tomorrow.]

Following the closing remarks, two lawyers appeared in the news studio and began discussing the charges against Seo Gihyuk, the likelihood of an arrest warrant being issued, and the potential sentence.

Taehan turned off the TV, annoyed by the chattering. Though his long-planned revenge was unfolding perfectly, he felt no sense of relief.

In an officetel on the outskirts of Seoul, Taehan had been hiding out in this safe house provided by Gwangwoo since the gas explosion. His body was intact, but his soul was shattered. Time passed slowly and painfully.

Taehan traced his dry fingertips over the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. Several cigarettes remained in the thick pack, but for some reason, he hadn’t felt like smoking for days. Cigarettes couldn’t mask the pain and suffocation he felt.

“Hyungnim. Have you eaten?”

Just then, Gwangwoo knocked and entered the room. While Taehan remained hidden, Gwangwoo was handling everything on the outside. Communicating with Prosecutor Shin, reviewing the investigation’s progress, and finalizing preparations for Taehan’s “afterlife.”

“Any news?”

And above all, he was still searching for Dawon at Taehan’s behest. Every time Taehan repeated the same desperate question, Gwangwoo would shake his head with a guilty look.

“Nothing much… The Chinatown area has been quiet since yesterday. It seems like there’s been a crackdown by the authorities or something. There’s been no movement at all. But I’m still looking as much as I can. By the way, Hyungnim…”

Gwangwoo hesitantly approached and handed Taehan a small, blue, passport-like booklet. It was the American passport that he had tried to give Taehan several times, but had been repeatedly refused.

“Shouldn’t you leave soon? SeoChang is in chaos because of their CEO’s arrest, so they won’t be paying attention to what we’re doing. Even if you leave first, I’ll find a way to continue the search.”

“…….”

“And more importantly… I’ve got my hands in a few things here and there, so I might be investigated. Prosecutor Shin said he’d try to keep me out of it, but if something happens to me, I won’t be able to look after you like this…”

“……I’m sorry. I tried to keep you out of it as much as possible.”

“No. I know you tried your best to clean things up while taking risks. Thanks to the thorough documentation, Prosecutor Shin is investigating Chairman Seo Gyun as well. He said the father and son will have a reunion in jail. I’m just grateful to you, Hyungnim.”

Looking at Gwangwoo’s bowed head, Taehan thought that he only had one thing left to do.

“I can’t leave yet.”

“Hyungnim.”

“Do me one last favor. Once that’s taken care of, I’ll consider leaving.”

In truth, Taehan had no intention of leaving without Dawon, but he said what he didn’t mean because he thought Gwangwoo wouldn’t comply if he was honest. With a colder expression than when he attended the SeoChang Construction board meeting, Taehan gave his final instruction.

“Choi Beomsik. Find out where he is.”

After Dawon left, Taehan thought and thought about why he had ruined everything. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his past life was a mess, but on the other hand, if he hadn’t been involved with the organization, Dawon wouldn’t have come to him asking for someone to be killed.

His biggest mistake came afterward. Taehan shouldn’t have treated Dawon’s request the way he did. He shouldn’t have toyed with the wish that the poor girl had entrusted to him with his life.

‘If I grant his wish now, even now…’

Taehan fiddled with the napkin he had worn thin with worry. He couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, but he had a sliver of hope. Perhaps if he fulfilled Dawon’s wish, even if it was too late, he would at least earn the right to see him again. He dreamt that he might miraculously return to him.

“Hyungnim. Right now…”

As if reading Taehan’s mind, Gwangwoo wore a worried expression. Taehan was officially dead. If he went outside and ran into someone who knew him, the situation would become far more complicated than merely inconvenient.

Moreover, killing someone was a reckless and conspicuous act. Gwangwoo clenched his fists as if desperately wanting to stop him, but he let out a small sigh. He knew better than anyone how desperate Taehan was and how deeply he regretted his actions.

“Ha… I’ve been keeping tabs on Choi Beomsik. Since he was summoned to the prosecutor’s office for questioning as a witness, he’s been hopping between houses. He’s already scraped together every debt he could, so he seems like he’ll self-destruct even without our intervention…”

Gwangwoo cautiously tested the waters, watching Taehan’s expression. Seeing the murderous intent in Taehan’s eyes hadn’t diminished, he resolutely continued.

“If you want him dealt with, I’ll do it. It’s too dangerous for you to get involved, Hyungnim.”

“No. You said you might be investigated soon. It’s dangerous for you to move too. Besides, I have to do it. It’s something I have to finish.”

“Hyungnim…”

“First, confirm Choi Beomsik’s exact location. I’m not leaving until that’s taken care of anyway.”

Gwangwoo looked resigned and sighed again, glancing at the untouched food on the table.

“Alright, Hyungnim. Then at least eat properly. You need your strength, even if you’re planning something.”

Taehan nodded and dismissed Gwangwoo, but he had no intention of eating. He simply sat there blankly, staring out the window. The sky was exceptionally blue, the sunlight brilliant, but his heart felt like it was crumbling.

Was this how Dawon felt, trapped in his studio, endlessly staring out the window? Alone in the darkness within a world that seemed peaceful and beautiful, waiting for a light that might never come?

Taehan had rejected the hand Dawon had extended, the hand of someone who thought he was his single ray of light. He couldn’t bear the self-loathing he felt when he thought about the betrayal he must have felt.

‘Kid. Please. Please be alive. Give me a chance.’

He didn’t dare ask for forgiveness. Taehan simply wished for a chance to atone and dedicate himself to Dawon. He prayed and prayed to a god he’d never believed in, wagering everything he had.

‘Ah, it’s a dream.’

Taehan stood in the living room of the two-story house. The memory of the day Dawon left that house. He glared at him with the look of a wounded animal. He hadn’t seen the tears of blood flowing beneath his prickly gaze back then.

〈Doesn’t matter now, does it?〉

Dawon asked coldly, opened the front door, and walked out. Without shoes, his delicate bare feet trod the dirt path as he walked away. He should have chased after him. He should have followed him that instant, fallen to his knees, and confessed his wrongdoing.

Taehan had dreamt this countless times, and the same scene always repeated. No matter how hard he tried to move, his feet remained rooted to the spot.

Even though he knew it was a dream, that it was useless, he always struggled to take a step. He strained until the whites of his eyes were bloodshot and his heart pounded painfully, and in the end, he collapsed.

〈Ugh……!〉

Even in dreams, was Taehan being mocked for his futile struggles? At that moment, crimson flames ignited from his hands and feet where they touched the floor. He couldn’t even flinch, despite the searing pain.

Fueled by regret and self-loathing, the red and black flames swelled instantly, engulfing his entire body. Taehan’s body burned like a giant bonfire.

‘It’s over now.’

Perhaps because the flames were so large and hot, Taehan found himself thinking this. He’d never intended to give up on Dawon, yet the thought came to him so naturally.

It felt like the fire would burn everything away. The two-story house, already charred black, his sins, regrets, his trampled past, even the lump of resentment lodged in his chest. The moment the crimson flames of his dream covered his eyes and mouth, Taehan woke up with a start.

“Ugh, huh…”

He gasped for breath after the vivid dream. The back of his neck still felt hot, as if he were still in the flames, and his eyes were bloodshot.

‘What was that…?’

Taehan’s chest heaved as he checked his phone beside him. 9 PM. He must have dozed off on the sofa after watching the news about the seven-hour warrant hearing for Seo Gihyuk, and then had that strange dream.

Looking out at the dark night sky, he felt an inexplicable anxiety. In the silence of the empty room, a question suddenly arose.

‘Where’s Gwangwoo?’

Gwangwoo, who visited Taehan several times a day to make sure he ate and reported on the progress of things, had left that afternoon saying he was going to the courthouse for the warrant hearing and that it might take a while.

To Taehan’s question about Choi Beomsik’s whereabouts, Gwangwoo had given a strangely evasive answer, trailing off at the end. A strong, gripping premonition arose within him. Taehan immediately called Gwangwoo.

The sharp, grating ringing tone continued for a long time before finally cutting off. Something was wrong. As Taehan’s secretary and confidant, Gwangwoo always answered immediately, no matter the situation.

‘Something happened, or he’s avoiding my calls.’

Taehan got up and grabbed a hat and mask to conceal his face. While preparing to go out, he called again. This time, Gwangwoo answered around the third ring.

“Where are you?”

To Taehan’s sharp question, Gwangwoo stammered, his voice full of unease.

“Hyungnim. I’m… at a house near XX-dong.”

“Did you go after Choi Beomsik? I told you not to, but you went to deal with him yourself, didn’t you?”

Thump, thump. His heart pounded, his blood and muscles burning. It wasn’t just anger at Gwangwoo’s disobedience. Taehan pocketed the jackknife he had sharpened every day since arriving at the safe house. His keen intuition screamed that something big was about to happen.

“……I’m sorry, Hyungnim.”

“Is Choi Beomsik there? Where did he go?”

“He was here until a moment ago, then he left, saying he had an appointment. I’m following him now. But, the things he said to the person he was gambling with before he left sounded strange.”

“Tell me.”

“Well… he said his luck had returned, and that he’d be back with a big score, so they should wait for him.”

What Gwangwoo said next made Taehan’s eyes flash. The money source Choi Beomsik thought he’d lost. He was talking about Dawon. Choi Beomsik was on his way to meet Dawon.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he felt dizzy. Amidst the overwhelming excitement, he barely managed to speak calmly.