TCBW C3

Chapter 3

* * *

“Urgh.”

After the rain had let up, Hae-eon, using the now-cumbersome long umbrella as a walking stick, pulled his foot free from the mud, heavy with rainwater.

He had already lost count of how many times this had happened.

The moment his attention wandered, he ended up in this condition without fail.

And the mud wasn’t the only problem.

The ground, frozen in patches from the cold weather, was treacherously slippery, while the exposed roots of trees jutted up to catch his feet at every turn.

Having to weave past all these hazards one step at a time, focusing every ounce of effort on simply walking forward, it was no wonder he was quickly exhausted.

At least, that’s how it should have been…

Lifting his head with difficulty, Hae-eon looked ahead at Dowoon, who was walking a fair distance before him.

There he stood, in perfect form, without a trace of weariness — hardly believable that he had been walking the very same path as Hae-eon.

“Ha…”

At the sight of his superior, showing not the slightest sign of fatigue, Hae-eon let out a resigned chuckle — laughing at himself for thinking earlier that he could somehow stop this man from attempting the climb.

They said top-ranked alphas had entirely different physiques. Maybe it was really true.

Seeing Dowoon’s pristine appearance, so clean it was hard to believe they were even sharing the same environment, Hae-eon felt the very energy drain out of his body.

While Hae-eon busied himself thinking this way, Dowoon simply walked on in silence toward their destination — his mind on the reason for this absurd mountain trek, and on his father, Chairman Lee, a man who, in his lifetime, had perhaps spoken his son’s name only a handful of times.

Chairman Lee — or rather, Lee Jong-han — was the only son of the late Lee Jong-cheol, founder of Yongseong Group, the largest corporation in the country.

Upon his father’s passing, he inherited both the position of the group’s second-generation leader and the chairmanship of its core company, Yongseong Electronics.

Then as now, Yongseong was a conglomerate that could be called a representative of the nation, with its reach in electronics, finance, construction, and more.

When Dowoon was a boy of around ten, he looked up to Chairman Lee with eyes full of admiration.

Though his father was too busy for them to meet often — sometimes not even seeing his face for long stretches — Dowoon always wanted to be like him. Not only that, he believed that if he worked hard enough, someday he could stand in the same position.

‘Where’s Father?’

‘Ah, Young Master Dowoon, you’re here. Well, the Chairman is… with Young Master Dohyun right now… Shall I call for him?’

‘No, that’s all right.’

Even though Chairman Lee devoted particular attention to his younger son, Dohyun, who was often ill, it never changed Dowoon’s feelings.

To him, Dohyun was never a rival.

He thought it only natural that his ailing younger brother, whose life had once been in danger due to frailty, would require more care. He did not think much of it — not once suspecting it could be the result of a stark imbalance in their father’s affections.

In truth, it was also because Dowoon, as a person distant from sentimental family bonds, had never placed much expectation on Chairman Lee in the first place.

Since he had never once received sincere parental affection, he did not feel sorrow at being deprived of love, nor did he harbor a sense of loss about it.

Thus, he grew up without a single instance of emotional exchange with his father — never feeling deprived, and never jealous of the bond between Chairman Lee and Dohyun.

He treated the absence of such emotions as a non-issue, never clinging to the differences in attention.

He simply pursued his goals, and in time, became an adult.

That was everything — and, as far as he was concerned, it was enough.

When he manifested as a top-ranked alpha and was accepted into a prestigious overseas university and graduate school with excellent grades — even when he, balancing studies, produced outstanding results as a professional manager at a leading global finance firm — it was the same.

Dowoon always looked only toward his objective.

Because of that, industry insiders in Korea who watched his career unanimously predicted a bright future for Yongseong.

Key executives inside the group also expressed satisfaction with his abilities and qualities.

Though Chairman Lee never commented directly on his son’s achievements, the social norm of passing leadership to direct descendants aligned with Dowoon’s impeccable preparation, and his succession of the group came to be accepted as more and more of a foregone conclusion.

Everyone naturally assumed it would be so, and the press went further — proclaiming that he would soon become Yongseong’s third-generation leader.

Inevitably, people flocked to him. Prominent business families introduced their children to him, despite the fact he was still a student.

It was, as they say, smooth sailing.

He felt he was advancing step by step toward his goal — the chairmanship of Yongseong Electronics and head of the Yongseong Group.

But perhaps misfortune always comes from behind, when least expected.

On the very day he returned to Korea after completing his studies abroad, Dowoon was confronted with news he had never anticipated:

“Today, it was announced that Mr. Lee Dohyun, second son of Chairman Lee Jong-han, has been officially appointed president of Yongseong Electronics. Chairman Lee stated that he would spare no systematic support to help President Lee Dohyun become the next-generation leader of the group.”

He learned of his younger brother’s appointment — someone so sickly he had rarely left the house — not from his family, but from the press, while still at the airport.

Dohyun’s sudden public appearance, having never before shown his face to the media, set the entire nation abuzz.

The reporters who, until recently, had focused on Dowoon now freely poured out barbs that pricked at his nerves:

“The appointment of the president of Yongseong Electronics effectively signals his designation as the group’s successor. The founding Chairman Lee Jong-cheol passed the group leadership to Chairman Lee Jong-han in much the same way.”

“Curiously… the inauguration was held while the previously well-regarded heir-apparent, the elder son, Mr. Lee Dowoon, was still abroad. This timing has led to various interpretations.”

Not a single word of this was untrue — and that truth cut deep.

Afterward, Dowoon repeatedly requested a meeting with his father.

But Chairman Lee evaded him again and again, offering vague pretexts.

About a week later—

“This is from the Chairman.”

The Chairman’s secretary arrived at the home where Dowoon was living alone, claiming there was something to be delivered in person.

He handed over a lacquered nameplate of fine mother-of-pearl inlay, along with a file.

“What is this?”

“It’s your appointment notice.”

Dowoon found he couldn’t even muster a bitter laugh.

An inauguration — and not for Yongseong Electronics, but for some other post — announced not by the Chairman himself, but in writing?

If nothing else, perhaps for the sake of appearances, the title on both the nameplate and the notice read CEO.

Lee Dowoon, CEO of Yongseong Finance.

The problem was that Yongseong Finance, a mid-to-lower-tier domestic finance company, was one of the group’s perennial problem subsidiaries.

“Congratulations, CEO Lee. The Chairman has high expectations for you.”

“….”

It was an unwanted seat — one no one paid attention to, one no one wished to take.

And yet, it was being handed to him.

He had no idea when Chairman Lee had prepared to transfer him ownership and management rights of Yongseong Finance.

By the time he had suppressed the surge of anger and betrayal enough to regain his senses, Dowoon was already standing before his father.

Oddly, upon facing him, Dowoon felt a sort of clarity settle over him.

He carefully maintained his composure, laying out his competencies, his potential, and his vision for Yongseong Electronics.

He ended by asking that this situation — likely the result of some mistake — be corrected.

“Yes. I know your abilities well.”

It didn’t take long to see how laughable a delusion that was.

Dowoon quickly realized that none of his words were reaching his father’s ears.

In truth, Chairman Lee had not given him a proper look even once during the conversation.

From the detached air that could scarcely be called parental toward one’s child, Dowoon understood that he had been wrong all along.

“You’ve studied management for years. I’ve heard you produced results at an overseas finance firm. It occurred to me that Yongseong Finance happened to be in trouble — so I sent you there, thinking perhaps you might be able to turn it around.”

The blatant hostility leaking from Chairman Lee was so obvious, it was almost ridiculous that Dowoon had failed to notice it until now.

It was then that he became certain: he had never once reached his father, and even had his achievements been in a company under the Yongseong Electronics wing, there would still have been no place for him there.

“Dohyun? The boy is frail, so I keep him close. If you show results, I’ll see about making a place for you at Yongseong Electronics.”

It was also now apparent that, one way or another, his father would have ensured Dohyun rose to the very highest seat, pushing Dowoon aside.

……

Dowoon could not even begin to discern where, or when, it had all gone wrong.

notes:

• Top-ranked alpha (극우성 알파): In Omegaverse lore, an extraordinarily rare and powerful alpha, with superior physical, mental, and often pheromonal traits.

• CEO title nuance: In Korean corporate culture, being given a CEO role in a struggling or low-status subsidiary can be a way of sidelining someone under the guise of entrusting them with leadership.

• Nameplate significance: In Korean business tradition, a lacquer-and-mother-of-pearl nameplate is a formal symbol of office, making the act of giving it to Dowoon a public, irreversible announcement of his relegated role.