Going to Ihwagak to let the kid meet her mother wasn’t all that difficult. But after that—then what? There was no way he could just leave a kid with no home behind and come back. He was barely getting by himself, paying off debts in exchange for room and board, and there was no chance Ihwagak would take in another mouth to feed. Even if the heavens split open and they agreed to take her, that place was a rural mountain village near Seoul, not fit for school life.
Tap. Tap.
Cheon Sejoo drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought.
A kid with no home, no family, and no parent to care for her needed to go to a facility like an orphanage. So, should he send Kwon Sejin there after helping her meet her mother? Cheon Sejoo grimaced, recalling Cheonsa Orphanage, the place he had come from. If he asked the head nun, she would probably agree to take her in. But he didn’t want to see her. It had been five years since he started avoiding contact on purpose. He didn’t have the nerve to ask her for help now. He didn’t even know if there was an open spot…
What had started from a moment of pity was turning into a lot more than he expected. Was he doing the right thing? Cheon Sejoo glanced over at Kwon Sejin, who hadn’t given him a single look, then suddenly asked:
"How old are you."
Judging by the way she talked, she didn’t seem as young as he’d first assumed. When she was crouching, her frame had looked so small he figured maybe fifteen at most. But thinking again, for a girl, she was pretty tall.
Yet she didn’t answer such a simple question. Cheon Sejoo pulled up one corner of his mouth and pressed her lightly.
"Answer."
No need for phony kindness. She wasn’t the type to respond to gentle coaxing. At the chill in Cheon Sejoo’s voice, Kwon Sejin finally mumbled in a sullen tone:
"Eighteen."
So she wasn’t fifteen. Still, he hadn’t expected her to be that grown up. Caught off guard, Cheon Sejoo found himself muttering like some old man:
"A good age, huh."
Ten minutes later, the two of them pulled into the parking lot and got out. The elevator soon arrived, and they went up to the 41st floor. As he opened the front door, Kwon Sejin looked extremely tense. Understandable—she had followed a man she just met into his home. Not wanting to agitate her, Cheon Sejoo kept some distance as he stepped inside.
"Come on in."
The inside of Cheon Sejoo’s apartment was nearly empty. In the living room, the only furniture was a TV, a sofa, and a small table in front of it. There weren’t even chairs at the dining table. The space didn’t feel like anyone actually lived there, and Kwon Sejin, trying to act nonchalant, clearly couldn’t stop looking around. She probably had never been in a place like this before. Cheon Sejoo let out a short snort and pointed at the sofa.
"I ordered seolleongtang. Sit and wait."
Without a word, Kwon Sejin walked over to where he pointed and sat down. Perched awkwardly on the sofa, her face was full of both curiosity and displeasure. So this loan shark bastard gets to live in a nice place with dirty money, huh? Her expression made it obvious.
Leaving her there, Cheon Sejoo went into his room to change. At home, he usually walked around half-naked, but not this time—he pulled on a t-shirt and sweatpants. Taking off his shirt made the bruises on his neck stand out even more, but he couldn’t exactly stay fully dressed either. So he came out like that.
Crossing the living room barefoot, he headed to the guest room furthest from his own. It was the room Doyoon used to crash in sometimes. A quick glance told him it was clean—no need to tidy up.
From the attached dress room, Cheon Sejoo pulled out a fresh blanket and pillow, placed them on the bed, and stepped back out. Right on cue, the intercom rang from the lobby.
"Thanks. Appreciate it."
He opened the door, stepped out to the entryway, and brought back the food. Along with the seolleongtang, he’d also ordered dumplings. Carrying the bag in, Cheon Sejoo set it down on the table in front of the sofa.
"What do you want."
One was regular, the other special. Kwon Sejin, looking like she was determined to owe him as little as possible, picked the regular. Watching her carefully open the lid, Cheon Sejoo brought his own bowl over and poured out about half of it.
For a while, the only sound in the big living room was the quiet clinking of spoons. Sejin had good table manners. She didn’t make noise or eat sloppily—just moved her spoon calmly and quietly.
The hollow ache in Sejoo’s gut, dulled from drinking only coffee all day, slowly began to ease. He set his spoon down first, walked over to the fridge, and grabbed a can of beer. He drank half in one go, then finally spoke again. There was a lot he needed to tell her.
"We have to go to Ihwagak on Wednesday. You can’t just show up and expect to meet her. Until then, you’ll be staying here."
At those words, Sejin looked up with a tangled expression. Why are you only saying that now? Are you really going to take me? Her face was full of disbelief, suspicion, and confusion as she stared at him. Looking into the autumn-colored eyes, Cheon Sejoo asked to confirm:
"You’ve already been home?"
"Yeah. …There’s nothing there."
Her voice got softer near the end. She stopped eating, hung her head low, and stared at her feet on the carpet. Her drooping shoulders made her look pitiful. The kind of figure that made anyone looking feel unnecessary guilt. She mumbled:
"You don’t need to care… Just let me meet my mom. That’s all."
Maybe the lecture from earlier had worked—at least she didn’t say “mind your own business” this time. But hearing her say “just let me meet my mom,” Cheon Sejoo drained the rest of his beer and leaned his chin on the sofa’s arm.
That’s what he wanted too. Send Sejin to Ihwagak, let her meet her mother, and then forget about it. But he couldn’t. After a long pause, he nodded and said:
"Fine. But while you’re in this house, at least answer when I talk to you."
"……"
At that pointed remark, Kwon Sejin’s gloomy expression shifted into irritation as she shot him a sharp glare. The change was ridiculous—but better than staring at her feet. Trying to get a sense of her situation, Sejoo kept asking.
"You don’t have a place, so I guess you don’t have clothes either. What about school? Your uniform?"
"I'm wearing it…"
Kwon Sejin mumbled, almost shy. At that, Cheon Sejoo narrowed his eyes and studied her more closely. Between the black hoodie and the pale neck, he caught a glimpse of a worn shirt collar. What he’d thought were regular cotton pants now looked like uniform slacks. Do girls wear pants these days? That thought crossed his mind—but then something felt off.
Earlier, her hood had been up, but now he noticed her hair was shorter than expected. That husky voice. The uniform pants. The way she didn’t flinch around grown men.
For a moment, Cheon Sejoo wondered—Could she be a boy? Now that he thought about it, “Sejin” was a name boys could have too. She didn’t even look 170 cm, but there were plenty of short guys...
No way...
He stared at her fine, impossibly delicate features—and suddenly realized Sejin was looking at him like he was some kind of pervert. Feeling flustered, Cheon Sejoo looked out the window. But then he couldn’t stop himself and blurted out:
“You’re a girl, right?”
“…….”
Kwon Sejin didn’t answer right away. Instead, she looked at Cheon Sejoo like he was human trash, then responded coldly, her voice razor-sharp:
“If I’m a boy, you’re gonna throw me out? That thing you said earlier—it wasn’t a joke. If you try to do anything to me… I won’t let it slide.”
If she was going to talk like that, she shouldn’t have followed him into the house in the first place. Cheon Sejoo frowned, realizing Sejin hadn’t actually answered his question, and asked again:
“I said—are you a girl?”
“Can’t… can’t you tell just by looking?!”
She shouted with burning cheeks, her eyes suddenly turning red at the corners. She looked utterly humiliated, like she’d just been insulted. It didn’t seem like she was faking it. Sejoo thought—maybe I went too far, she’s at an age where looks matter more than anything—and quickly apologized.
“Sorry. I’m just… a paranoid bastard.”
“…….”
To that apology, Kwon Sejin shot him a sharp glare and turned her head away. Cute, he thought. Cheon Sejoo watched her, face flushed all the way to her ears, then got up from his seat. He pointed down the hallway.
“There’s blankets and stuff in the room at the end. When you’re done eating, rest there. We’ll talk about the rest over dinner.”
“…You’re buying me dinner too?”
Even at eighteen, there was still something endearingly childlike about her. Saying it like she was embarrassed to ask for more, eyes lowered, made Sejoo stifle a laugh.
“I’ll get you chicken. Go get some sleep.”
Sejin nodded silently. Looking down at her empty bowl, Cheon Sejoo pushed his own—half uneaten—seolleongtang toward her.
“If you’re still hungry, eat this too.”
Without another word, he turned away and headed to his room.
After closing the door behind him, Cheon Sejoo rubbed his face and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached over to the nightstand, took out a cigarette from the drawer, and lit it. Like a man with nothing better to do, he smoked leisurely, then lay back on the mattress and picked up his phone.
— Yes, Chief.
Moon Sunhyuk answered before the dial tone even finished. The loud background noise gradually faded—he must’ve moved somewhere quieter. Cheon Sejoo waited, grinding out the cigarette into the ashtray once it burned near the filter. He covered his eyes with his dry palms and slowly spoke.
“Where are you.”
— Still at the office.
“On a Saturday? You’re not off work? Shouldn’t you be done by now?”
— Kim Donggil said he’s going out to catch some gamblers tonight, so I was thinking of going with him.
At that, Cheon Sejoo gave a dry laugh. Debt collection wasn’t Sunhyuk’s job. He was just trying to play watchdog, so the younger guys didn’t mess up and create more trouble for Sejoo. Rolling over on his side and staring out at the Han River through the window, Cheon Sejoo said:
“Donggil’s good at his job, so leave him be. Do me a favor instead. I’ll give you some pocket money.”
— That’s okay. Just tell me what the errand is.
“Buy some clothes. Not for me… for a girl. About… 170 centimeters tall.”
How much did she weigh? Cheon Sejoo pictured Kwon Sejin in his mind. Tiny face, wrists and legs thin as bones. Looked like you could lift her with one hand. Then...
“Maybe… 30 kilograms…?”
He stopped as soon as he said it and let out a snort. That made no sense. She might look small for some reason, but even under the hoodie, there were bones and flesh. No way she weighed just 30.
“Never mind. More like 45 kilograms.”
Women usually had smaller frames, and with wrists and neck that thin, she was probably pretty underweight. At that, Sunhyuk hesitantly asked:
— …Are you talking about the kid from earlier?
“Yeah.”
Moon Sunhyuk had once seen Sejoo intervene to save a middle school girl getting beat up in an alleyway. Wondering what was going through his boss’s mind this time, Sunhyuk fell silent for a moment before replying:
— I’m not too familiar with girl sizes…
“Just go to the mart and get something casual to wear around the house. Pajamas, underwear… stuff like that.”
— When you say underwear…
“Panties, and… the top…”
Both men fell silent at once. Though no one else was around, they both felt awkward. Cheon Sejoo rubbed his cheek and tried to recall what he’d seen earlier.
Her chest—even with the hoodie, it was flat.
A-cup…?
He whispered the last part to himself, and Sunhyuk cleared his throat before responding:
— Got it. I’ll go to the mart and call you back, Chief.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
After the call ended, Cheon Sejoo closed his eyes, thinking he might nap. But then he remembered Ihwagak, frowned, and picked up his phone again. He scrolled through his contacts and called a number saved as “Fucking Bastard.” Unlike Sunhyuk, Fucking Bastard didn’t answer until Sejoo had called twice. A flat, disinterested voice came through.
— What.
“Need a favor.”
Click.
The call ended before he could even finish the sentence. Cheon Sejoo cursed under his breath and called back. After a long dial tone, the other party finally picked up again.
“Chae Beomjun.”
As soon as Sejoo spoke the name, click—the line dropped again. A long sigh slipped from Cheon Sejoo’s lips. He pressed his fingers into his forehead to contain his annoyance and called one more time. This time, when the call connected, he didn’t speak immediately. Breathing slowly, trying to calm himself, he finally said:
“Chief Chae.”
— What do you want.
That finally got a normal response.
Chae Beomjun was someone who worked under Shin Goyeon like Sejoo did—one of the group’s closest aides. They weren’t close, but Sejoo had been sure he’d agree to a simple favor like this. That’s why he’d promised Sejin she could meet her mother.
Still, being treated like a lowly subordinate just from using the polite title made him feel disgusted and petty. Cheon Sejoo raised his middle finger at the phone and switched it to speaker mode.
“There’s someone I need to meet in Ihwagak. Could you tell the folks over there for me?”
— You? Who the hell do you even know there? Far as I know, you’ve got zero connections in that place. What, got yourself a new boyfriend over there?
Ignoring Chae Beomjun’s sarcastic tone, Sejoo continued:
“There’s a woman who came in recently to pay back her loan to Shinsa. Her kid wants to meet her, just once. Please help me out this once.”
— Ahh… her mom, huh? Is she hot? Then I’ll think about it.
“…….”
Instead of asking about the situation, Chae Beomjun only cared about whether the woman was attractive. Cheon Sejoo stared down at his phone with a look of disgust. It was pathetic—there really was no one he could ask for help except this slut who didn’t care about age or gender as long as they were pretty. In a dry tone, Sejoo replied:
“The kid’s pretty, so I’m sure the mom is too. So? You gonna help me or not?”
— Not unless you call me ‘hyung.’
Hyung, my ass.
Cheon Sejoo scoffed at the absurd demand.
There was a time he had wanted to call Chae Beomjun hyung. But ever since he’d been betrayed—not quite betrayal, but close enough—he’d never once thought of him that way again. Chae Beomjun was just a guy with nothing but sex on the brain.
Cheon Sejoo shut his mouth and avoided answering. He lowered the speaker volume quietly. Then he heard Chae’s low chuckle on the other end.
— Whatever. I get it. Can’t ignore you when you’re the one asking. I’ll talk to Jiwon. So, Chief Cheon… if you’re free later, how about we meet...
The bedroom slowly went quiet. Eventually, the call dropped. Cheon Sejoo closed his eyes. The delayed exhaustion finally caught up to him.