Chapter 35

Just as Chen had pointed out, they did share some common ground. Both were in the midst of rebuilding businesses that their fathers had wrecked.  

The business partners Taeheon’s father had indulged in under the guise of connections had already caused far too many problems. Stagnant water always rots.  

Taeheon had been systematically cutting away the rot, but recently, he had changed his approach. That was what Chen was pointing out.  

Chen Liu, the president of his so-called trading company, was someone Taeheon had established a new business with after taking control of operations. With Taeheon cementing his hold over the company, Chen likely had expectations.  

“I always help my friends.”  

Friends. Taeheon scoffed internally.  

“A friend’s advice is worth more than gold.”  

Noticing the sarcasm, Chen merely shrugged.  

“Your father isn’t as old and feeble as you think.”  

This wasn’t advice anymore—it was a warning. Taeheon’s gaze sharpened.  

His father was making moves.  

And this man knew about it.  

Holding Taeheon’s sharp gaze, Chen’s lips curved into a smirk.  

“Even a dying viper keeps a single drop of venom.”  

That statement itself felt like venom dripping from fangs.  

Taeheon knew better than anyone that if someone wanted to strike at him, now was the perfect time—while he was preoccupied with his wife. Worse still, he had already exposed his weakness to his father.  

That much he had expected. What he didn’t understand was why this man was interfering.  

“Do you always take such interest in other people’s family affairs?”  

“Sometimes.”  

“You must be very fond of me.”  

“As I said, we’re in similar positions.”  

Chen retrieved a bag from under the table.  

“This is a gift.”  

As he spun the table, the bag slid in front of Taeheon.  

“A talisman. It is said to protect the bearer—from accidents, from illness.”  

Taeheon unzipped the bag. Inside, wrapped in crimson silk embroidered with gold thread, was a scarf.  

A quiet, breathy laugh escaped him.  

“Is this for my wife?”  

Chen didn’t answer.  

When Taeheon picked up the scarf, something smooth and metallic was revealed beneath it.  

His smile deepened. A talisman, indeed.  

A joke, wrapped neatly with a bow.  

It was an old-fashioned revolver, the kind that had to be loaded manually. The frame was an understated matte black, but the handle was extravagantly inlaid with leather, an unnecessary touch of luxury.  

Beside it, in a decorative box, lay a set of bullets.  

Taeheon picked up the revolver and gave the cylinder a spin. The empty chambers whirled effortlessly.  

“People may flee from a man with a knife, but no one turns their back on a man with a gun.”  

Chen’s voice took on a theatrical lilt as he explained his gift.  

“You needed this.”  

Taeheon listened to the self-assured words with a smile that revealed nothing.  

Gun trafficking was an antiquated business—but there was always demand. And large-scale arms deals were always tied to territorial disputes in the market.

Recently, new players had begun encroaching on the smuggling market Taeheon controlled. Clearing out the old networks built by his father had left openings—an unavoidable consequence of cutting away the rot.  

“If you work with me, you can have everything you want.”  

Chen spoke as if he knew everything. Annoyingly so. Taeheon ran his fingers along the barrel of the revolver.  

His father had a penchant for collecting antique firearms. Chen must have been well aware of that when he chose this gift.  

“Not everything.”  

Hearing the murmured response, Chen tapped the table. Thud. The wood vibrated softly.  

“Tell me what you want. I’ll get it for you.”  

“We’ll see.”  

“A new wife?”  

At the suggestive remark, Taeheon let out a short, cold laugh—just a passing scoff.  

“No.”  

He closed the case.  

“One woman is enough for me.”  

More than enough.  

“But you do need friends.”  

Was this man a friend or an enemy?  

Under the glow of red lanterns, Taeheon shook hands with the foreign businessman while replaying the warning in his mind.  

Enemies on all sides.  

Yet, there was no sense of crisis. No fresh fear. It had always been this way.  

Competitors, rivals—his father.  

The only real concern was handling his father peacefully—just enough that the woman who would soon return wouldn’t recoil in horror.  

Exiting the restaurant, his men fell into step behind him. Taeheon climbed into the car.  

“Still no news from Busan?”  

His subordinate immediately reported the situation.  

“They’re searching door to door, but no one’s spotted her yet.”  

For a new face in a small town, she should have stood out. And Yaein had the kind of face that lingered in memory.  

It should have been a simple matter of asking around. Yet, there was still no sign of her.  

She had neither money nor time, nor did she have anyone willing to help her. Taeheon knew the extent of her shallow social ties better than anyone.  

“And Madam Park? She’s keeping still?”  

“The Chairman’s wife has been laying low since the Chairman’s discharge. She’s keeping public appearances to a minimum.”  

“Hiding away?”  

“No movements since that day. Given the Chairman’s health issues, it seems she’s keeping quiet.”  

As his father’s condition worsened, Park would be too preoccupied protecting her own interests to ignore Taeheon’s message.  

That was the logical conclusion. And yet, something didn’t sit right.  

Everything related to Yaein had been like this lately.  

“…Fine. Keep watching her.”  

He could dig deeper to see if she was secretly making moves.  

But hadn’t he just received a warning about his father? He couldn’t afford to waste manpower.  

As for Yaein—helping her would bring no benefit to Kyeongju. That woman had built her life attaching herself to men like his father. Even after Taeheon’s warning, she had no reason to side with Yaein.  

“How was your meal, sir?”  

“I got a toy.”  

At the cryptic response, his subordinate glanced at him. Taeheon gave the leather case on the seat beside him a light tap.  

“For now, we head to Busan.”  

The rest could be dealt with later.

***

The car jolted violently. A barrage of curses erupted from the front seats.

The impact and noise startled Yaein awake. Her heavy eyelids trembled as they slowly opened.

She struggled to piece together the situation. She was inside a vehicle—the same van she had last seen before losing consciousness.

Her wrists wouldn’t move properly. When she looked down, she saw they were bound with silver duct tape. Her mouth was covered as well—likely with the same tape.

“All we have to do is leave the money and run. It’s easy.”

“Then why the hell do I have to make the call?”

“Because he knows my voice. I told you—I met that director in person.”

The two men in the front seats were bickering. The one in the passenger seat was urging the driver to make the call, while the driver stubbornly refused.

Through the rearview mirror, Bansak caught sight of Yaein regaining consciousness. 

Their eyes met. 

Bansak flinched and quickly pulled up his mask. Yaein averted her gaze.

She had already recognized their voices. The two men were her mother’s boyfriend and the stranger he had brought along. But pretending not to know was probably the safest option.

“Don’t try anything stupid. Just stay put.”

Bansak brandished a knife as a warning.

“We’ll let you go as soon as we get the money.”

So that was their plan—to demand ransom from Taeheon and then hand her over.

Yaein lowered her head in silence.

A heavy weight settled in her chest as she thought about her mother, who had deliberately stalled with that phone call in the alley.

She had known. 

She had been in on it from the very beginning. Even the talk about shopping for clothes had just been bait.

You’ve abandoned me again.

This time, she had even abandoned her own grandchild.

A shadow fell over Yaein’s vacant eyes.

She had hoped her child would have a different fate than hers. But nothing had gone as she wished.

Had she made the wrong choices from the start?

The van came to a stop.

The men got out first, then yanked the back doors open and shoved something over her head.

Black plastic—probably a garbage bag.

Blinded, her arms were seized, and she was dragged out of the vehicle. She stumbled, struggling to steady her footing.

The plastic crinkled around her ears. 

Beyond that, she could hear the faint roar of waves. The air carried the salty tang of seawater.

With every breath, the bag clung to her face.

Dim silhouettes filtered through the thin plastic, giving her a vague impression of her surroundings.

She was roughly pushed onto a chair, her ankles bound to its legs.

The moment the bag was ripped off, cool air rushed against her face.

The two men still wore their masks. 

But their tattoos and hair were exposed—rendering the disguise almost meaningless.

“If you’re going this far, at least use a voice changer or something,” Yaein muttered to herself.

From a short distance away, the two men continued their conversation, still bickering. It seemed to be an extension of their argument from the van—most likely over who should call Taeheon.

“If it’s such a problem, why not just have her make the call?”  

Bansak pointed at Yaein.  

They exchanged a few more words before finally settling on his suggestion.  

The two men approached her.  

“When we give the signal, just read this.”  

Her mother’s boyfriend held up a piece of paper with the message she was supposed to recite. The wording was so simple it was almost childish.  

As soon as the man pressed the call button, Bansak pressed a knife to Yaein’s throat.  

The cold steel felt as if it could pierce her skin at any moment.  

The ringing from the speakerphone sounded deafening. Yaein struggled to steady her breath.  

She prayed no one would answer.  

But, as always, Taeheon crushed her hope with ease.  

[— Hello.  ]

His voice was smooth, each syllable pronounced with precision, cutting through the air like a blade.  

The knife at her throat suddenly felt sharper, as though it was slicing into her ears.  

It was Taeheon.  

“……”  

Yaein hesitated, unable to force her lips to move.  

The man holding the paper mouthed at her to hurry up.  

A sharp sting—warm blood trickled down her skin.  

She forced her tongue to move.  

“…Taeheon.”  

Silence.  

No response from the other end.  

The man, growing impatient, tapped the paper insistently. Just as Yaein was about to continue

reading—  

[— Finally tired of your little outing?]

His voice was so casual, so indifferent, that for a moment, Yaein almost believed she had called him of her own accord, like she was simply out for a walk.  

Even the two men holding her hostage seemed momentarily thrown off.  

[— Or do you want something?]

Startled, the man fumbled the paper, dropping it with a curse.  

[— Who are you with?]

Taeheon had caught the curse word.  

The man hurriedly picked up the note, shoving it back into Yaein’s hands.  

She read aloud.  

“I have your wife. If you prepare one billion won in cash, I’ll return her.”  

[— ‘Return her’… ]

A long silence stretched between them, just like when he first picked up.  

Just as Yaein was about to continue reading, Taeheon spoke again.  

[— Are you hurt?]

The unexpected question threw her off.  

[— Judging by the way they sound, they’re amateurs. I was wondering if they might’ve messed up and injured you.]

His voice carried an unsettling calmness.  

The word amateurs made the man’s face flush red with anger. He gestured sharply for Yaein to respond.  

“…I’m not hurt.”  

Her bound wrists ached, and the small cut on her throat still stung, but aside from that, she was unharmed.