“Where’d you charge this? Phone doesn’t even work but the battery’s full.”
“At the subway station… not like it matters if it works or not.”
Sejin, who’d just been sneaking another piece of meat pancake, answered as if in a daze, then scoffed and turned his head. Still, seeing him shove the pancake into his mouth anyway made Cheon Sejoo let out a quiet laugh. The way he got weak in front of food—he really was just a kid.
“Clean up after you eat.”
“…I told you I’m not lifting a finger.”
“Then just leave it.”
He probably thought doing chores meant losing some kind of fight. Leaving Sejin to continue his private standoff, Sejoo stood from his seat. He opened his phone and called Sunhyuk.
– Yes, sir.
“Where are you?”
– At home, sir. Have you eaten? Should I make something and bring it up?
Moon Sunhyuk was always itching to do something for Sejoo. Sejoo moved into the bathroom. Switching his phone to speaker, he undressed and replied.
“No, I ate. What about the kids? They get something good last night?”
– Yes, sir. We treated them to something expensive. The youngest and Cheoljoo went out to the office, and Jinyoung’s resting. Do you need anything?
“Yeah. If you’ve got any prepaid phones left, bring me one.”
– We’ve got one. I’ll bring it up right away.
“No, wait about thirty minutes. You know the door code, right?”
– Yes, I do.
Truthfully, Sejoo wanted to replace that wretched phone Sejin was holding, so it wouldn’t have to suffer any longer. But that brat probably wouldn’t accept it so easily. And he didn’t want to convince him with sweet talk, either. So Sejoo decided instead to hand him a prepaid phone—just for contacting him.
After ending the call with Sunhyuk, Sejoo stepped into the shower. Hot water poured down on his scarred upper body, reddening the patches where new skin had grown over old wounds. He stayed under the water for a long time, washing away the fatigue layered on his body. When he finished showering, he put on nothing but his usual thin silk gown over his underwear.
Beneath the black collar, the dark gray hem of the gown unfolded. Woven into the gray silk was an elaborate pattern in a shade just darker—so densely embroidered that unless the light hit it just right, it all looked black. Towel draped over his head to soak up the moisture, Sejoo stepped out of the bathroom.
Though he hadn’t taken long, by the time he came out, Sunhyuk had already arrived. Sitting on the couch, Moon Sunhyuk was shooting Sejin a look like, “Who the hell is this brat in our boss’s house?”
Of course, Kwon Sejin was giving him the exact same look right back—something like, “One gangster brings another gangster home. Figures.” Still, perhaps out of a shred of conscience, Sejin had been clearing the table. His hands were full of trash. Ignoring the sharp tension hanging between the two, Sejoo approached Sunhyuk.
“You’re here?”
“Yes, sir. Here’s what you asked for.”
The moment Sejoo spoke, Sunhyuk immediately stood. There was no trace of suspicion left in his respectful posture. Sejoo took the prepaid phone from him, checked that it worked properly, and gave a short nod.
“Thanks. You can go.”
“Rest well, sir.”
Only after bowing deeply at the waist and lifting his head did Sunhyuk return to normal. As he passed by, Sejoo noticed Sunhyuk’s gaze linger on Sejin again. He was sure—even though he only saw the back of his head—that Sunhyuk was shooting another glare Sejin’s way. Sejoo let out a soft laugh at that and jerked his chin at Sejin, who was still holding trash.
“Come here.”
“…Let me finish cleaning this up.”
Sejin replied with a sulky face, like “What now?” as he looked away from Sunhyuk disappearing down the hall. Still, his hands moved busily as he cleared the table. He stacked the fancy disposable containers, ran water in the sink to gather up the food waste, and even wrung out a rag from somewhere to wipe down the table. Clearly not his first time doing it.
“What.”
A moment later, Sejin approached the sofa, making it obvious he hadn’t cleaned up because he wanted to. But as he got closer, he frowned at the glimpse of Sejoo’s bare chest peeking through the slightly open gown. With a look like he’d just seen something vile, Sejin protested.
“Close your damn robe.”
Didn’t expect that. One eyebrow raised, Sejoo gave a scoffing laugh. Except for someone like Chae Beomjun, there was no reason for him to ever cover up his body. His physique was the kind that ought to be shown off. Smirking at Sejin’s visible discomfort, Sejoo tugged at the bottom of his robe.
“Wanna see what’s under it too?”
“Ugh!!”
As he fluttered the robe, Sejin flinched in disgust and turned away. Sejoo, finding his horror delightful, laughed so hard his shoulders shook. Ever since Sejin first entered his house, Sejoo had noticed—he was the kind of kid whose reactions were just too fun to mess with.
After laughing for a while, he straightened up around the time Sejin finally snapped at him to knock it off. Then, he picked up the prepaid phone and dialed his own number, before handing it to Sejin.
His voice back to normal, Sejin lifted his eyes without relaxing his still-wrinkled brow. He looked down at the phone Sejoo was handing him, then met his eyes with a “What am I supposed to do with this?” expression. Sejoo explained.
“I should at least have one way to keep tabs on you, right? If something goes missing in my house, you’re the only suspect.”
“Who’d steal something bought with money you scammed off people?”
Sejin’s tone was getting more curt by the minute. He clearly thought if he pushed back enough, he might get kicked out. Sejoo waved his hand, pretending not to notice how obvious that was.
“That’s what all thieves say. Just take it. My arm’s getting tired.”
Sejin didn’t respond well to kindness. If Sejoo had said, “Since we’re living together, we should at least be able to contact each other” or something considerate, Sejin would’ve scoffed and stormed back into his room. But calling it surveillance and accusing him of theft? That got Sejin to take it, his pride wounded but hands compliant. His attitude seemed to say, “Fine. I’m not a thief, so go ahead and try to watch me.”
Sejoo felt like he was starting to understand how to handle Kwon Sejin. You had to poke at his pride to get a reaction.
“The number that just called you is mine. Save it.”
At Sejoo’s instruction, Sejin glanced at him, then tapped on the keypad. Watching him for a moment, Sejoo waited until Sejin had finished saving the number. Then he picked up his own phone, called Sejin’s prepaid line again—and snatched it out of his hand.
“Give it back!”
Startled, Sejin jumped up and reached for it. But Sejoo simply pushed a palm to his forehead, and Sejin couldn’t get any closer. Huffing and cursing, Sejin tried to fight back, but Sejoo ignored him and checked the screen.
‘BoomerLoanSharkGangsterScammer’
He’d been so careful to save the number quietly—and then did this. Seeing the ridiculous contact name, Sejoo gave a dry chuckle.
“You little brat.”
Apparently not expecting to get caught so soon, Sejin looked flustered. He bit his lip and watched Sejoo closely, waiting for him to blow up. But honestly, it wasn’t even inaccurate, so Sejoo just tossed the phone back onto Sejin’s lap.
“You know my name. Save it under that.”
“…How would I know your name?”
Grumbling, his tone relaxed now, Sejin navigated to the contacts menu. He hit the edit button, seemingly ready to change it. Then he looked up at Sejoo, as if asking for the name. The one caught off guard this time was Sejoo.
“I gave you my ID, didn’t I?”
When he first brought Sejin home, he’d handed him his resident registration card. He’d completely forgotten about it until just now. At that reminder, Sejin furrowed his brow in thought, then dug into the pocket of his school uniform pants. There it was—Cheon Sejoo’s ID card. Sejin pulled it out with a face full of reluctance.
“You never came to get it, so I thought it was fake.”
“It’s real. Now give it back.”
Cheon Sejoo watched as Sejin checked the name and took his resident registration card back. He glanced over at Sejin as he changed the name in his phone, then lay down on the couch and grabbed the remote control.
Clicking aimlessly with a bored face, he looked for something watchable—meanwhile, he could feel that Sejin hadn’t left his side. Sejoo waited for him to speak first, flipping to a cartoon channel. Some pantless bear was singing a song. It wasn’t until quite a bit later that Sejin finally spoke.
“Hey…”
“What.”
“Are you… the boss over there?”
The uncharacteristically cautious question made Sejoo glance his way, still hugging a cushion.
“Over where.”
“I mean, are you the boss of Shinsa Capital?”
The official CEO of Shinsa Capital was some guy Sejoo didn’t even know. He was just going in and out of the place now and then at Shin Goyeon’s request to clean up a bit of chaos inside—and even that, he was planning to quit soon. The truth was, Cheon Sejoo had no formal relationship with Shinsa Capital at all.
“No.”
He shook his head firmly, and Sejin followed up with another question.
“Then are you, like, the head gangster?”
“….”
What a ridiculous title. Sejoo furrowed his brows and reached under the couch. He pulled out a cigarette and lighter, lit up without changing position, and answered with the cigarette hanging loosely from one corner of his lips.
“If I were the boss, would you start respecting me or something?”
“No. That’s not it…”
Sejin replied without a second of thought. But he trailed off soon after, his voice growing sheepish—clearly not his usual tone. Even that was enough for Sejoo to guess what he was about to say. There was only one topic that ever made Kwon Sejin put his spikes away.
“Can you… let me see my mom again?”
Just as he expected. Sejoo sat up slowly, cigarette in hand. Crossing one leg over the other, his soft silk robe slid down, exposing the length of his legs. Smooth and hairless, Sejoo’s thighs were toned with lean muscle—pleasing to look at, no matter who you were.
Meeting those detached, cold eyes, Sejin pressed his lips together without saying a word. Slowly, he lowered his gaze—taking on a quiet, pleading posture that seemed to say just this once, please.
“You can do it… can’t you?”
His voice rang low through the living room, powerless and quiet. Only pitiful when it suited him. Sejoo watched him and thought again how cunning he was.
“I’ll do it if you go to school properly.”
Sejoo hadn’t brought Kwon Sejin home simply because he felt sorry for him. Like Hyein, Sejin had been cast out into the world without protection from either parent or guardian. Sejoo had brought him here because he intended to take responsibility until the boy became an adult.
Responsibility. Yes, that’s what it was. If he hadn’t had that mindset, he wouldn’t have looked back at Sejin in the first place.
That’s why he couldn’t just sit back and let Sejin blow off school. Educational opportunities were limited. The present moment was the most important period for shaping Sejin’s entire future. The one time in life where effort translated directly to results, and those results determined everything that came after. That was especially true for someone like Sejin, who had nothing.
So no—Sejoo refused to watch him throw that chance away. He knew Sejin would probably think he was being a hypocrite, but he didn’t care. He was determined to get Sejin through school. He didn’t want to let the boy waste his opportunity.
As expected, Sejin frowned at that. His expression said Why the hell do you care? Sejoo responded with what might as well have been a threat.
“If you don’t go to school, I’ll tell your mom everything. That you’ve given up on life, that you treat school like a fucking cafeteria.”
It was a little underhanded, kind of nasty—but it wasn’t like Sejin would listen to kind words. The moment he heard that, Sejin made a face like he was seriously pissed, lips twisting before he finally sighed and lowered his head.
After hesitating for a moment, fidgeting with his hands on his thighs, he finally confessed the real reason he hadn’t been going to school.
“…I don’t have bus fare.”
“….”
Sejoo had assumed Sejin wasn’t going to school because he didn’t care about studying. Apparently, that wasn’t the whole story. Narrowing his eyes at the unexpected answer, Sejoo ground out the cigarette in the ashtray. Come to think of it, from here to Dong Seoul High School was pretty far. Over ten kilometers by car—no way to walk that.
He hadn’t even considered that it might be a transportation issue.
Nodding, Sejoo got up and said, “Wait a sec,” and went to his room. He searched through his wallet until he found a credit card with transit card functionality. When he came back, he handed it to Sejin.
“Use this while you’re staying here. If you need something, buy it. You can use it as a transit card too.”
As expected, Kwon Sejin got mad.
“…Why the hell would I use your card? What, you think I’m a beggar?”
Good to know his pride wasn’t so broken that he’d just roll over. But still—dealing with his pride at every turn was a pain. Thankfully, Sejoo had now completely figured out how to handle him. He glared at the high-maintenance squatter and snapped back.
“Who said you get to use it for free? Don’t you have any shame?”
“What?”
Sejin’s face scrunched up as he snapped his head up. Meeting his glare, Sejoo let a lie fall easily from his lips.
“You think I’d give a brat like you a card out of kindness? I’m gonna bill your mom for every last cent you spend. Food, bus fare—down to the last fucking penny. So use it wisely.”
Sejin’s face flushed red. For a second, he looked like he was burning up in embarrassment—realizing he’d misunderstood Sejoo’s intentions. Embarrassed, huh? Sejoo chuckled inwardly at the sight, then added in a bored voice:
“Don’t just eat lunch at school. Study when you can.”
“……”
“Think about your future before you act.”
As that piece of unsolicited advice left Sejoo’s mouth, Sejin, who had just accepted the card, froze. As always, his sharp gaze turned toward Sejoo. From the first day they met until now, Sejin had used those pretty eyes of his for one thing only—shooting daggers. He scoffed and asked:
“You dragged me here against my will, and now you’re gonna force me to study too? What—if I don’t, you’ll tattle to my mom again?”
“How’d you guess? I guess you’ve got some instincts, at least.”
Sejoo smirked, amused, and admitted it. Sejin bit down on his lip in frustration. He hated how this man, who’d dragged him home on a whim out of pity, now kept meddling so deeply in his life.
Like hell it’d last more than a few weeks. No—probably not even a few days. So why stick his nose this far in? He didn’t even know what situation Sejin was in. What right did he have to say study this, do that… Sejin fumed, then glared at Sejoo and snapped:
“Shouldn’t you be the one studying? Seems like your future’s darker than mine. Do you even know what they teach in high school?”
To that, Cheon Sejoo lifted a finger and pointed at himself. Me? he asked silently with a raised brow. Sejin nodded.
And Sejoo let out a dry, incredulous laugh.
Sure, he couldn’t deny the “dark future” part—but needing to study? That didn’t apply to him at all.
Cheon Sejoo had been the only person in the country to get a perfect score on the college entrance exam in his year. Thanks to that, he’d entered Hanguk University’s medical school on a full scholarship, receiving one-time sponsorships from multiple companies. He had entered top of his class, graduated top of his class, and had never once dropped from the top ranking during his six years there. Born smart, but never lazy.
So Sejin’s jab didn’t hurt his feelings—it was just a refreshingly ignorant joke. Sejoo looked at him, amused, as if he were a cute little idiot who had no clue what he was talking about.