Free Web NovelAs soon as she saw my face, Cheon Jiyoung burst into tears.
Before introducing her to Grandpa, I thought it would be best for her to settle her emotions first, so I took her outside the house.
“Oppa, I’m sorry...”
The moment our eyes met, she broke down sobbing.
She looked worn out, probably from emotional turmoil, and I didn’t know how to begin speaking.
“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...”
As she repeated those words through her sobs, whatever lingering discomfort I had in my heart quietly faded.
When I placed my hand on her head, I could feel her trembling.
Looking straight into Jiyoung’s tear-filled eyes as she slowly raised her head, I spoke.
“It all happened before you were even born. I’d be lying if I said seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable. But I know it wasn’t your fault. Don’t apologize. Cry as much as you want now and let it go. And... I hope you can treat me the way you did the first time we met.”
Before I even finished speaking, Cheon Jiyoung broke down in loud, uncontrollable sobs.
What fault could a child like her possibly have?
I swallowed the bitter smile that tried to escape.
“The one who’s hurting more than either of us right now is probably Grandpa. Visit him often. You don’t need to worry about me.”
It was a long while before Jiyoung finally calmed down.
Even after stopping her tears, she kept avoiding my gaze.
“Your eyes are all swollen. You look like a panda. A panda.”
I tossed a joke, but she didn’t respond.
Looks like she’d need more time.
Well, she was only seventeen. A high school freshman. Still in the middle of adolescence.
If I’d been in her position, would I have had the courage to come here and apologize?
“This is getting boring. Wipe your tears and let’s go back in. Grandpa’s waiting.”
I brought Cheon Jiyoung back inside.
When Grandpa saw her face, he stood up from his seat.
“Grandpa...”
Jiyoung’s voice trembled again.
Worried that Grandpa might glance at me for approval, I quietly left the room and headed upstairs to my room on the second floor.
Sitting on the bed, I spoke to Ma Gwajang, who had followed me in.
“What’s Cheon Sooman up to? Still under surveillance?”
“I’ve received reports that he hasn’t left the house. No movement yet.”
“He’s not the type to stay still. If anything stirs, even slightly, let me know immediately.”
“Understood.”
I looked toward the door.
What were they talking about?
While I believed Jiyoung had done nothing wrong, the same could not be said for her father.
“And Cheon Suhan? He’s being handled properly, right?”
“I’ve heard Manager Park is taking care of him thoroughly.”
Just because of Cheon Jiyoung, I had no intention of forgiving Cheon Suhan.
I didn’t know what he was discussing with Grandpa, but I fully intended to destroy his spirit.
Even if he’d been a puppet for Cheon Sooman, he still turned a blind eye to my parents’ deaths.
“Set up a dinner with Park Dongsu. Somewhere we can drink quietly and talk.”
Later, Ma Gwajang knocked and said Grandpa was calling for me.
When I entered the study, Grandpa looked relaxed, as if he had a long talk with Jiyoung. His eyes were a little red—he had probably cried.
Jiyoung’s face was even more swollen than before.
Even eating ramen and going straight to bed wouldn’t cause swelling like that.
“Muhyuk, thank you.”
Those words from Grandpa hit me like a weight in the chest.
“There’s nothing to thank me for. She’s my sister too, after all.”
This outcome was born of Grandpa’s changed attitude and Jiyoung’s actions toward me.
Of course, Cheon Jiwon and Cheon Jisoo weren’t included in that equation.
That evening—
For the first time in a long while, Grandpa looked truly at ease.
Warmth returned to a house that had long been steeped in silence.
After dinner, I headed out to meet Park Dongsu.
It was already quite late when I stepped into a run-down tent bar in Yeongdeungpo. There were no other customers—only Park Dongsu and Lee Sanggeun were waiting for me.
“How do you even find places like this?”
I asked as I walked in.
Dongsu stood up from his seat.
“Yo! Brother.”
He waved at me with a grin. Sanggeun, in contrast, bowed deeply at a perfect ninety degrees.
I chuckled at their familiar behavior.
“It’s been a while.”
Ma Gwajang stood behind me instead of sitting.
“Took us long enough to get a real drink together, huh, Dongsu-hyung?”
He clearly liked being called ‘hyung’. His lips twitched with pride.
He was easy to read, as always.
“You’ve wrapped up Yeongdeungpo, right?”
“Of course. No real resistance. A little intimidation and they came crawling. Almost too easy.”
I nodded faintly.
“Snatching Geukseong Construction from Jo Hyungu was huge. Gangsters catch on fast when someone has serious backing. Don’t even look at the south side of the river yet—focus on absorbing the smaller groups in the west. And stay away from the Chinese guys in Garibong-dong for now.”
“Got it.”
“And you, Director Lee? How’s business?”
“I’m starting to forget whether I’m a lawyer or a businessman. Haha.”
Just because a gangster owned the company didn’t mean the employees were gangsters.
Since it was legally registered as a legitimate company, we especially needed someone like Sanggeun to wear the lawyer’s title.
“Keep recruiting people you trust. Don’t worry about salaries or bonuses—just go all in.”
“Understood. But I think it’s time we start securing some contracts.”
“I’ll talk to Daehyeon Construction and follow up with you. Hang in there a little longer. Don’t strain yourself trying to show results too fast.”
“Yes. Though we can’t rely solely on Daehyeon, our staff has been reaching out and trying to land deals elsewhere too.”
The former administration had aggressively pushed new towns and redevelopment projects, but the current government was lukewarm on those initiatives.
“There probably won’t be any major new town developments for now. Isn’t Bongcheon-dong near Yeongdeungpo undergoing redevelopment?”
Sanggeun responded to my question.
“I was just about to bring that up. Another group is already involved. I was wondering if we should make a move.”
I looked at Park Dongsu. He shrugged.
“They asked me first, but I figured we should decide together. Personally, I think we should go for it.”
“Then try it. Can you take it?”
“Brother! I’m Park Dongsu. Don’t you trust me?”
With that confident grin, I poured him a drink.
“Let’s have one.”
Even without saying it, I could tell he was eager to prove himself.
After a few rounds, the conversation shifted to Cheon Suhan.
“How’s the prison situation?”
“He’s completely isolated. Not just our guys—we’ve put word out with compensation offers. He’s probably living hell in there. I even told his cellmate to make sure he can’t commit suicide.”
A cold smile crept across my face.
“Good. Don’t let him die or get injured. In fact, don’t even let him choose when to die. Break him down mentally—completely.”
“Damn. You’re scary. I haven’t done anything wrong to you, have I? If I have, just tell me, okay?”
“Not yet.”
Dongsu shuddered and shook his head.
“How’s everything in Busan?”
“Good. Suhyeong’s handling it well. Calls every day. He knows how to take care of things. He’s under me for now, but he’s got the ability to run his own turf.”
“Still, don’t trust him too much. Keep an eye on him.”
“Will do.”
Busan was a critical location.
Japanese yakuza typically pushed into Korea starting from Busan. If I could lock it down early, my larger plans would become much easier.
“Then that’s all for business, right? Talking shop’s killing the buzz. Let’s drink.”
“Haha, alright.”
We talked for a long time over drinks, sharing old stories from our time in Busan.
By the time I got home, it was late. The living room was dimly lit with only a desk lamp, and Cheon Jiyoung was waiting for me.
“You’re still up?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“We could’ve talked tomorrow. You didn’t know when I’d be home.”
“Did you drink?”
I must’ve looked a little tipsy—she could tell.
I chuckled.
“Just a bit. Do I smell?”
“No, but your face gives it away.”
“Sit down. Where’s Grandpa?”
She sat across from me and lowered her head.
“He said he was going to sleep earlier.”
“You waited because you had something to say, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Say it. But if you apologize again, I’m gonna be mad.”
She flinched slightly.
When she didn’t respond, I spoke in her place.
“That’s enough. You’ve done more than enough. But don’t ask me to forgive your dad. I don’t want to have to hate you too.”
“Okay...”
“...Got anything you want to do? You’re in high school now.”
I threw out the question to change the subject, but a memory surfaced as I said it.
She had once told me she wanted to pursue music.
That dream had been crushed before by Grandpa and Cheon Suhan.
“I’m not sure yet... I’ve just vaguely been thinking I’d like to do something related to music. But maybe it’s too late now.” frёewebηovel.cѳm
“Really? Isn’t that a field that requires talent? Do you even have any?”
“I do! I’ve been told I’m a great singer, okay?!”
She immediately clamped her mouth shut, realizing she’d walked into my trap.
A little poke at her pride brought out her old self.
Cheon Jiyoung’s true self was strong, confident, and upbeat.
“Then you should go for it. What’s stopping you? If you want it, do it.”
“But...”
“Because of Grandpa? Still, you’ve got to do what you want. Just give it a shot. If you’re too scared of opposition, you’ll never get anything done.”
She didn’t reply, just kept fiddling with the ends of her long hair like she was thinking.
“I’ll take your side when the time comes. Let’s worry about that later. You’re still a student—you should try everything you want to.”
“You’re only twenty-one... Why do you sound like some wise old man? So weird.”
I didn’t answer. I just smiled.
That night, we talked until dawn.
We deliberately avoided any mention of our parents, but it was the first time—across both lives—that we’d spoken for so long, just the two of us.
The next morning, Cheon Jiyoung had breakfast and left early.
Grandpa’s face seemed noticeably less weighed down.
While we were talking in the living room, a breaking news alert flashed on the TV.
Kim Ilsung had died.
It was a shocking announcement during preparations for an inter-Korean summit.
Time passed. The sweltering summer drew to a close. It was now September—the day of the second round bar exam results.
I went to Myungsoo’s house to wait with him.
When the call came and he heard the word “pass,” Myungsoo jumped up and shouted with both fists in the air.
“Fuck! I passed! I did it! I, Lee Myungsoo, actually pulled it off!”
Then he pulled me ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) into a tight hug.
“Muhyuk! My friend Muhyuk! Life is seriously unpredictable. Who’d have thought a former punk like me would become a prosecutor? This is all thanks to you. Really, thank you.”
Calls came in from the other three too. They all passed.
Even the university called. It was the first time four second-year law students had passed the second round in one go.
All I did was form a study group and push them a little—but it had accelerated their judicial training cohort.
I couldn’t yet imagine what kind of butterfly effect this small change might spark in the future.
< You've Done More Than Enough > End.
