“Didn’t you sleep last night?”
Manager Lee had arrived early that morning, and the moment he saw Choi Wonjoon’s complexion, concern spread across his face.
Wonjoon had always suffered from insomnia, but lately it had become especially severe. That was one of the reasons he had gone to the temple in the first place. He had always liked it there since childhood, and he’d vaguely hoped the quiet atmosphere might help.
Apparently, not even Buddha could cure insomnia.
“The energy in this place must be terrible.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Wonjoon found himself thinking about Kim Yieum.
He had definitely slept well at his house.
Even after regaining his senses, it had been the same.
The sleep he’d fallen into there had been deep and sweet, like sinking into honey—something he hadn’t experienced in years.
Wonjoon stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Water streamed down his lean, toned body in long rivulets.
Afterward, he entered the dressing room and changed properly.
Seeing himself perfectly dressed in the mirror made it finally sink in that he was truly home again.
Oddly enough, the thought crossed his mind that living like an idiot in a teddy bear shirt hadn’t actually been that bad.
As he walked out while fastening his watch around his left wrist, the sound of the television drifted from the living room, where Manager Lee stood watching the morning news.
[As the body recently discovered on a hiking trail in the mountain behind Seohwa-dong has now been identified as Mr. Yang, a member of an organized crime group, anxiety among nearby residents continues to grow. With no clear leads regarding the perpetrator, the police investigation is reportedly facing difficulties. Authorities are currently considering the possibility of an internal power struggle between organizations—]
Manager Lee quickly reached for the remote to switch off the TV, but Wonjoon stopped him with a gesture.
A few detectives at the scene flashed briefly across the screen.
One of the faces looked strangely familiar.
Even after the news segment changed, Wonjoon’s eyes remained fixed on the television.
“You said a detective came to the company?”
“Yes. He asked about Executive Director Park.”
“What was the detective’s name?”
“I left the business card at the office. I’ll check and send it to you.”
The next news segment began, and Wonjoon finally left the house, lost in thought.
Throughout the drive, a cheerful morning radio broadcast filled the car.
If he’d still been at Kim Yieum’s house, he’d probably be watching cartoons right about now.
And pestering Yieum’s friend to take him to the playground.
The memory of getting stuck in the slide and bawling his eyes out surfaced unexpectedly, but instead of embarrassment, he felt amusement.
It was the kind of memory he had never even experienced as a child.
“Jihun.”
“Yes, Mr. Chairman.”
“Have you ever been on a swing?”
“A swing? You mean at a playground?”
“Yeah.”
“Well… I don’t really remember.”
“You should try it sometime.”
“…Pardon?”
“It’s fun.”
Silence settled briefly inside the car.
Wonjoon let out a quiet laugh and turned to look out the window.
A few raindrops splattered against the glass before sliding away. Out of habit, he leaned deeper into the backrest.
Morning traffic crawled along sluggishly while the rain gradually grew heavier.
As exhaustion washed over him and his eyes drifted shut, Manager Lee discreetly lowered the volume of the radio.
Damn it.
At night, no matter how desperately he tried to sleep, his eyes would snap wide open the moment he lay down.
This fucking insomnia.
“Sunbae-nim. You seem pretty relaxed these days.”
“Do I?”
“Maybe it’s because Youngsik is gone now.”
“I guess that’s part of it.”
Part of it was relief.
The other part was simply that he’d finally been sleeping comfortably again now that he had the apartment to himself.
Still, he occasionally found himself wondering whether Youngsik had made it home safely and reunited with his family.
But he was an adult.
He’d take care of himself.
After parking the car, Yieum stepped out into the rain-soaked morning.
Mud squelched beneath his shoes with every step. As he carefully avoided puddles, an old dog kennel came into view.
The closer they got, the more violently the dogs barked.
A foul stench hung thick in the air.
Knock knock.
Yieum rapped against the rusted iron gate.
Almost immediately, a man wearing an apron stormed out holding a knife.
Detective Jung nearly reached for his gun, and Yieum instinctively tensed as well.
“What the hell is it this early in the morning? Banging on someone else’s gate like that.”
Yieum calmly took out his identification and showed it.
“We’re from Seobu Police Station. You’re Mr. Yang Taekil’s older brother, correct?”
The man immediately tried to shut the gate, muttering that he didn’t know anyone by that name.
Yieum quickly wedged his foot into the gap and held the gate open.
The man glared at him, the whites of his eyes showing as his expression twisted violently.
Still polite, Yieum spoke evenly.
“We’d like to ask you a few questions regarding your younger brother. Please spare us a moment.”
After a long stare, the man finally sighed and jerked his chin for them to come inside.
The place reeked of blood and dampness.
A large basin overflowing with chopped chicken sat in the middle of the yard.
Detective Jung subtly nudged Yieum and gestured toward it with his eyes.
Yieum merely glanced once before approaching the man as though nothing was unusual.
“First, we’d like to express our condolences regarding your brother.”
The man snorted.
“We heard you visited Mr. Yang Taekil’s home a few days before he disappeared.”
“So?”
“What was the reason for the visit?”
“You expect me to answer even that?”
“It’ll be a lot more comfortable answering here than at the station.”
The man glared at him before suddenly slamming the knife down into the cutting board with a loud crack.
Then he pulled out a cigarette.
As he searched for a lighter, Yieum silently took his own out and lit it for him.
The man inhaled deeply before exhaling a long stream of smoke.
“I went to borrow money.”
“Did he lend it to you?”
“Lend it, my ass. That bastard would never lend money to anybody. Selfish prick only cared about himself. He was rotten from the moment he was born. Got addicted to gambling, mortgaged the house, destroyed the whole family. And thanks to him, I’m stuck here paying off all his debt.”
“You must’ve resented him a lot.”
“Of course I did. Detective, if you were me, could you forgive a bastard like that?”
“We heard there was shouting the day you met. Did the two of you fight?”
The man’s expression darkened immediately.
“You suspecting me now? Yeah, I lost my temper because I was drunk. But would I actually kill him? Honestly, I’ve wanted to kill him hundreds of times. But I’m still human. I’m not some fucking animal that murders people.”
“Did he mention anything unusual that day? For example, receiving a large amount of money soon?”
The man frowned deeply.
His cigarette had already burned nearly to the filter. He crushed it out against the edge of the cutting board.
“If I knew something like that, do you think I’d be living like this? He always looked down on me like I was dirt. Honestly, I don’t feel sorry he’s dead at all. So stop asking.”
Yieum let out a quiet breath.
Even knowing he was a suspect, Yang Taekil’s brother made no effort to hide his hostility.
But family members being worse than strangers was nothing unusual.
In cases involving deaths inside the home, relatives were often the first suspects.
“What did he say about his work in the organization?”
“How would I know? I knew he was a gangster, that’s it. Never heard anything about what he actually did.”
According to what Yieum had learned, Yang Taekil had recently been neglecting his responsibilities within the organization and disappearing frequently. Complaints from other members had apparently piled up for quite some time.
Unfortunately, most of them had clammed up the moment questioning began, as though they’d coordinated beforehand. Nothing useful had come out of it.
“You should leave now. I still have work to do. Need to feed the dogs.”
“Thank you for cooperating.”
Yieum gave a small nod and headed back toward the entrance.
Then his eyes caught on a crumpled black raincoat tossed carelessly in the corner.
Mud stained the hem.
He stepped closer to examine it, and Detective Jung quietly joined him.
“Mister. Mind if I take a quick look at this raincoat?”
Still sorting the chopped chicken, the man waved dismissively.
“Do whatever you want.”
Yieum picked up the raincoat and examined it carefully.
Dust had settled over the surface.
The mud stains looked old as well.
After checking it thoroughly, he folded it neatly and placed it back where it had been.
Once outside, the two detectives climbed into the car.
Jung Namsu reached into his pocket and held something out.
“Sunbae-nim. Here.”
After seeing what it was, Yieum let out a disbelieving laugh.
Jung slipped the piece of chopped chicken into an evidence bag he’d prepared beforehand and sealed it shut.
“I swiped it while you were talking earlier. I’ll ask the National Forensic Service to examine the cut marks. Just in case.”
Yieum was about to tell him he should’ve stolen the knife while he was at it when his phone rang.
The timing was almost ridiculous.
Father.
The moment he saw the caller ID, his throat tightened instinctively.
“Yes, Father…”
A gruff voice came through immediately.
[It’s me.]
“Go ahead.”
[Clear your schedule for Saturday.]
Yieum frowned slightly as he reached for the ignition.
“You remember that young woman I mentioned before? Professor Yoon’s daughter.”
His father had married late and was already elderly, which was probably why he constantly brought up marriage despite Yieum not even being thirty yet.
“Father, I’m still—”
[How long are you planning to live alone?! How much longer do you think I have left?! I should at least see you married before I die!]
The sudden roar made Yieum squeeze his eyes shut.
A man who jogged two hours every single morning was always talking about dying.
[I’ll send you the time and place, so stop arguing and just go meet her.]
Somewhere in the background, Yieum could hear his mother scolding him.
Why are you forcing him when he says he doesn’t want to?
“Is Mother doing well?”
[Don’t change the subject. Make time. If you reject this one too, I’m coming to Seoul myself.]
“Father. I’m really busy right now. I don’t have the time, and—”
The call disconnected before he could finish.
Yieum pressed hard against his temples with one hand and let out a low groan.
Beside him, Jung Namsu spoke carefully.
“Your father’s pressuring you again?”
“He always does.”
“You should just tell him you have a girlfriend.”
Yieum laughed hollowly.
“Don’t say something so horrifying. He’d reserve a wedding hall immediately.”
With a sigh, Yieum started the engine.
It had been a long time since he’d heard his father’s voice, yet his chest still tightened every single time.
It had always been that way.
His father had been difficult to approach when he was young—rarely home because of work, strict whenever he was.
Unlike his outspoken older brother and sister, Yieum had always been softer by nature.
Maybe that was why it affected him more deeply.
Besides, Yieum was a Beta.
Compared to his Alpha siblings, he couldn’t help feeling like the lacking child.
And his father had never let him forget it.
“Let’s head out.”
The moment he started driving again, the rain abruptly intensified into a downpour.
Mud splashed all over the car as they drove along the dirt road.
I shouldn’t have washed the car yesterday.
Yieum regretted it the entire drive back.