Chapter 24

“If you refuse, then fine. I’ll start with those dogs you’re so desperate to protect.”

“…What?”

“Kwon Heeseong’s little company—the one he managed to salvage after being pushed out of Ilseong. If I feel like it, I can grind that company into dust within a week. And without even that company he’s barely managing to hold on to, what exactly does Kwon Heeseong become?”

Kang Taeon’s whisper brushed against Iwon’s ear.

“And Yoon Mujin. That penniless boxer whose sponsors have all abandoned him. I could make sure he never sets foot in a ring again, cut off any possibility of a comeback. Snapping both his legs and leaving him in a gutter might even be entertaining.”

“You crazy fucker!”

Iwon could no longer hold himself back. He reached for Kang Taeon’s collar, but the bodyguards standing nearby immediately rushed forward and wrenched both his arms behind him, pinning him in place.

“Ngh!”

“The longer you dig your heels in and insist on staying here, the more those two will end up wallowing in the mud. In the end, it’ll be you cutting off their air with your own hands.”

Kang Taeon calmly smoothed the wrinkles from his suit before looking down arrogantly at Iwon’s contorted face.

He’s actually insane.

Face-to-face, the tyrannical main top he had once read about in a novel was nothing but a violent psychopath beyond saving.

“I’ll give you exactly three days.”

Kang Taeon pulled a white envelope from inside his jacket and tossed it at the pale-faced Iwon. Then he turned away without another glance.

“When the three days are up, if you’re still here, I’ll take those two down. One after the other.”

Kang Taeon left exactly as he had arrived, completely on his own terms.

Iwon stared down at the red marks left on his arms where the bodyguards had roughly twisted them. And just like that, he was left standing alone in the middle of the yard.

The envelope lying on the ground looked like a death sentence.

There was no way to protect Heeseong and Mujin except by leaving the country himself. Faced with the overwhelming wealth and power of Taegyeong Group, a man who had nothing had only one choice.

Total surrender.

“This is so fucked.”

Iwon let out a long sigh.

He sat down on the wooden floor and stared at the envelope.

Inside was a plane ticket to Georgia and a single black card.

He tore the ticket to pieces, cut the card apart, and dropped both into the trash.

He might not have much, but he wasn’t a beggar.

From the moment he had possessed this body, he had been preparing for the life that would come after the ending.

“I’ve got money too.”

Using anything Kang Taeon had given him felt wrong.

The moment he accepted it, he really would become a loser bowing at that man’s feet.

His pride might have been paper-thin, but he still didn’t want to surrender even that.

Go abroad? Where?

He couldn’t even speak a foreign language properly. What was he supposed to do once he got there?

A sigh escaped him before he could stop it.

Still, it wasn’t entirely bad.

It was the worst possible offer, but since Kang Taeon himself had brought it up, if Iwon left the country, the man would erase every trace of him without needing to be asked.

Even if Heeseong and Mujin searched for him like men possessed, Taegyeong Group’s enormous information network would stand between them like a breakwater, shielding him from the search.

He could turn Kang Taeon’s vicious obsession with control against him and use it as the perfect shield to disappear behind.

Iwon bought an economy-class ticket to America with his own money.

It would be a long flight, but this body was still young. He worked a field for a living. Surely he could handle a flight.

I don’t want to go.

But that bastard Kang Taeon was holding Heeseong and Mujin over his head.

Iwon couldn’t bring himself to turn his back on that.

Attachment was a terrifying thing.

He had meant to never become attached to anyone again. Yet he had no idea when things had gone this far.

Something surged up inside him, and for a moment, he felt as though he might cry.

Iwon pulled out the suitcase he had brought with him when he first came down here.

Even after packing his clothes and everything else that mattered, it wasn’t even half full.

In all the time he had lived here, he hadn’t accumulated a single precious possession.

People, though.

Maybe I got those.

At the very least, his last memories of Heeseong and Mujin weren’t bad ones.

Dragging the same old suitcase he had brought when he had practically been exiled to this house, Iwon stepped out of his room.

He stood on the wooden floor and slowly looked around the yard one last time.

The vegetable patch where Heeseong had grumbled his way through the weeds, ruining his expensive trousers.

The spot beside the tap where Mujin had swung an axe, sweat dripping from his body.

It had only been a few days ago.

Yet somehow, it felt as distant as something that had happened years ago.

“…Insufferable bastards.”

Iwon did his best to shake off the bitterness and stepped beyond the gate.

The heavy clunk of the lock sliding into place sounded almost like the sound of him locking his own heart away.

Two hours later, aboard the express bus to Incheon Airport.

Iwon stared blankly at the scenery rushing past the window when his pocket buzzed.

He had blocked every unknown number days ago, so there weren’t many people who could still call him.

The name displayed on the screen was Yoon Mujin.

Iwon stared at it for a long moment before slowly pressing answer and raising the phone to his ear.

“Hello.”

“Iwon!”

The instant the call connected, Mujin’s voice poured through—urgent and thick with relief.

In the background came a jumble of voices and the muffled announcement of a hospital PA system.

“I thought you weren’t going to answer… Thank goodness. Have you eaten? Did you lock everything up properly?”

He had to be beside himself outside an operating room, with a younger brother in all but blood fighting for his life.

And even then, the first thing he asked about was Iwon’s safety.

Such blind, single-minded devotion.

A calm, gentle voice came from Iwon’s lips, so gentle it almost felt like a lie.

“Yeah. I ate. I locked everything up, too. How are things at the hospital? Did the surgery start okay?”

“…Yeah. He just went in. They said he’s past the worst of it, thankfully.”

Mujin’s voice trembled faintly at the unfamiliar warmth.

Perhaps simply hearing a man who always kept his guard up ask after him so gently was enough to wash away days’ worth of exhaustion.

“That’s good. Don’t skip meals yourself. You’ve spent so much time taking care of everyone else, so take care of yourself now, too. You’ve got boxing to get back to.”

“…Iwon?”

There was something about the warmth in Iwon’s voice that felt strangely like a goodbye.

Mujin sensed immediately that something was wrong and called out to him urgently.

But Iwon only gave a quiet laugh and finished what he wanted to say.

“Don’t get hurt. Live well.”

“Wait, Iwon. What are you talking ab—”

Click.

Iwon ended the call before Mujin could finish.

The pit of his chest tightened painfully, but he exhaled slowly and leaned his head back against the seat.

Barely ten minutes later, another call came in.

This time, it was Heeseong.

Iwon didn’t avoid it.

He pressed answer without protest.

“Ah, I said kill the story! No exceptions! Pay double the penalty if you have to, just get it done by tomorrow! …Oh.”

A pause.

“Oh. Iwon.”

Heeseong had apparently called without thinking. He had been in the middle of tearing into someone, but the instant he realized who was on the other end, his voice dropped as though someone had flipped a switch.

“What’s the occasion? You actually picked up my call.”

“No reason. How are you doing? Did you get the company situation sorted out?”

Caught completely off guard by Iwon’s sudden cooperation—and even more so by the concern for his wellbeing—Heeseong fell silent for a moment.

“…Are you actually Jeong Iwon? Why are you doing things you never do? You’re making me nervous.”

“Things I never do, my ass. It’s so quiet around here my ears got bored, so I picked up. What’s it to you?”

A short, incredulous laugh burst from Heeseong.

But beneath that laughter was an unmistakable wave of relief and happiness.

“It’s almost wrapped up. Slip some money to the people upstairs, pay the penalty, and it’ll be done. Won’t take more than a few days.”

His voice turned stern.

“While I’m gone, don’t go shacking up alone with that freeloading bastard. Just stay put and look after the house. Got it?”

“Just eat properly and don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Hey. What is with you today? It’s creepy. Are you sick or something?”

“I’m not sick. Just… thank you. For everything. I felt like I should say it.”

A man who had spent his entire life acting arrogantly as a third-generation chaebol heir.

And yet he had rolled around in the dirt pulling weeds.

He had even camped outside Iwon’s door day and night just to see him through his heat cycle.

That stupid, unvarnished sincerity.

Iwon whispered softly, as though he were burying those memories in the deepest corner of his heart.

“Live well. I’m hanging up for real.”

“Hey, wait! Jeong Iwon!”

Click.

Iwon ended the call without hesitation.

He powered off the phone completely, opened the SIM slot, and pulled out the card.

Then he casually nudged it into a corner of the bus floor.

There was nothing left to bind him now.