The hat stood out.
Even with her hair simply tied back, Kim Hyunkyung was beautiful—like a woman pulled straight from a painting.
If someone didn’t know her circumstances, they’d never guess she worked in a restaurant kitchen to pay off debts.
She looked more like someone you’d see in the VVIP lounge of a department store.
What’s more, maybe because she got married young, she didn’t look very old either.
At most, she could pass for thirty-five.
She could’ve even been around Cheon Sejoo’s age.
“Where did you sleep? Did you have any money left? Were you sleeping in a sauna? You’ve been going to school, right? You didn’t skip?”
Her dry hands repeatedly stroked Sejin’s cheek and hair.
She checked his body for injuries, eyes filling with tears as she hugged him again.
“I went to school fine… someone gave me a place to stay… I stayed at their house for a bit.”
Kwon Sejin lied without blinking.
And not only that—he referred to the person in third person, even though said person was in the same room.
Cheon Sejoo clicked his tongue internally and shook his head.
Then, as if triggered by something, Kim Hyunkyung abruptly pushed Sejin back and said with a worried expression:
“Who? Who gave you a place to stay? A friend? You don’t have friends. It wasn’t some weird person, right? They didn’t ask you to do anything in return, did they? Right?”
Sejin’s suspicion and defensiveness must have come from his mother.
It made sense. A life where all you had was a pretty face couldn’t have been easy.
She’d probably raised Sejin to be wary on purpose, so he wouldn’t repeat her own life.
“No. They just helped me… without wanting anything. That person over there…”
He’d expected Sejin to keep pretending until the end—but after hesitating, Sejin turned his head and pointed at Cheon Sejoo.
Sejoo, who had been resting his chin on his hand and staring at his blacked-out phone screen, felt the gaze turn his way and lifted his head.
He met Kim Hyunkyung’s eyes and gave a slight tilt of the chin as greeting.
She looked him up and down like she was assessing him.
He’d helped her son, so she was half grateful—but the other half was cautious, thinking no one helped someone for free.
Her face and personality both resembled Sejin’s, but at least she understood proper manners.
Kim Hyunkyung stood up and gave a deep bow.
“Thank you for taking Sejin in, sir. He’s probably been sensitive because of puberty… Even if he has a bad attitude, he’s not a bad kid. Thank you for helping him.”
“Ah… no, it’s nothing.”
She said he didn’t have any friends just a minute ago…
So much for the ‘mother hedgehog’ cliché.
Cheon Sejoo found himself without a single retort in the face of her brutally honest assessment of her son.
He nodded awkwardly, and she smiled, lightly slapped Sejin’s thigh, and added:
“Kwon Sejin. What’s with ‘that person’? ‘That person.’ He doesn’t even look that much older than you—shouldn’t you at least call him hyung?”
“Hyung, my ass.”
At her comment, Sejin replied in that same surly tone Cheon Sejoo had come to know.
Sejoo let out a short laugh, met Sejin’s eyes, and stood up.
Perfect timing to get away.
He figured sticking around would only get in the way of the mother-son reunion.
Might as well go out for a smoke—he had errands to run anyway.
“Please, take your time.”
With a small smile, Cheon Sejoo put on his shoes and stepped out of the staff dorm.
Before searching for the manager to run his errand, he perched on the stone wall where the ashtray sat and lit a cigarette.
Then he called Moon Sunhyuk, who had left him a message.
— Yes, Chief.
“Hey. You find him?”
— Yes, we picked him up in Incheon. We’re bringing him in now.
“Nice. Take him to the workshop.”
Now that the business had grown more corporate, there weren’t many rough jobs left—but DG, the company he worked for, still had roots in organized crime.
The story of how Daegam Construction built DG into what it was today was one of bloody struggle.
You could say the multi-billion-won DG headquarters stood atop a mountain of corpses.
Times had changed, and now subsidiaries like DG Construction, DG O&M, and DG Entertainment no longer carried that gangster image.
But DG still had its share of underground operations:
Loan companies like Shinsa Capital, clubs that distributed drugs—those still ran quietly in the shadows.
Cheon Sejoo and his cleanup team, following orders from Shin Goyeon, mostly handled problems that came from those areas.
Lately, they were investigating a methamphetamine (Crystal) disappearance at a club.
The case of the delivery guy who vanished with the drugs had wrapped up in two days.
Now that they’d caught him, it was time to find out why he’d done it.
It looked like today was going to get bloody.
Sejoo ended the call, stubbed out his cigarette, and set out to find the manager of Ihwagak.
It was because of a favor Chae Beomjun had asked of him: pick up some side dishes she had packed.
“Ah, Chief Cheon.”
He soon spotted the manager near the kitchen, just stepping out with bundles of side dishes in her hands.
Perfect timing—it seemed she’d just finished packing what Chae Beomjun had asked for.
“I’ll take that.”
Cheon Sejoo reached out and took the bundles from her arms.
As she handed them over, Han Jiwon gave him a warm, meaningful smile.
Sejoo understood exactly what that look meant—but unfortunately, he was the kind of man who didn’t react to women.
So he turned his head at a slight angle and avoided her gaze.
Han Jiwon gave a small knowing chuckle and brought up Kim Hyunkyung.
“Ms. Hyunkyung is really good at her job. I didn’t expect it, but it seems like she’s had a lot of kitchen experience.”
As she spoke Sejin’s mother’s name, her face turned sympathetic.
And Cheon Sejoo understood that feeling.
Even with her face so thin, Kim Hyunkyung was still beautiful—almost hauntingly so in her gauntness.
You wouldn’t guess she’d lived a hard life just by looking at her.
With a soft sigh, Han Jiwon continued.
“But you know… the hall pays a lot more than the kitchen, and she wants to move to serving. The thing is, Chief, you know how it is. This place sees all kinds of trash.”
“That’s true.”
Apparently, you needed a certain kind of toughness to be a manager at a place like Ihwagak.
“If she moves to serving, she’s gonna get harassed the second she steps out there. Better for her to stay in the kitchen than run into assholes like that.”
Ihwagak was practically a backroom lounge for politicians and business tycoons.
Every kind of human being passed through its doors, making shady deals.
Among them, it was rare to find a single decent one.
Even though the staff were supposedly protected, that protection had its limits—so for women with nowhere else to go, staying invisible was the best defense.
Sejoo nodded, completely agreeing.
“In that case, Manager, maybe you should be in the kitchen too.”
At his joke, Han Jiwon opened her eyes wide and burst out laughing.
Cheon Sejoo laughed along with her and kept the conversation going a little longer, just to kill time until the promised hour was up.
After about 30 minutes had passed and he’d loaded the side dishes into his car, Cheon Sejoo returned to the staff dorm.
Sure enough, the hour had come—both Kwon Sejin and Kim Hyunkyung were now waiting outside.
Sejoo walked toward them with slower steps than usual.
The mother and son looked strikingly alike.
As Kim Hyunkyung stroked her son’s cheek and spoke gently, Sejin just shook his head with a sulky expression.
You missed her so much, and now you’re acting like that? Would it kill you to just say “okay”?
Thinking like an old man, Sejoo approached.
He was about to motion to Sejin that it was time to go—when Kim Hyunkyung beat him to it and grabbed his hand.
“Sir.”
“…Yes?”
Her hands wrapped around the back of his hand were warm.
That strange, yet familiar title—sir—swept him back into memories of the past.
Sir.
The word he’d long forgotten made Cheon Sejoo’s face flush with surprise.
He couldn’t pull away from Kim Hyunkyung’s hands, even though she was a head shorter than him.
Still holding on, she smiled softly and said:
“I’ve had him do chores since he was little, so our Sejin’s good at cooking and cleaning. He’s got a bit of a mouth on him, but he’s affectionate and takes care of people in his own way.”
“Ah… I see…”
He had no idea what she was suddenly going on about.
He wanted to pull his hand back, but he couldn’t muster the strength in his arm.
Swallowing down his confusion, Cheon Sejoo gave a slow nod.
Seeing that, Kim Hyunkyung continued.
“He looks weak, but he’s actually healthy and hardly ever gets sick. He’s good at running errands too. You don’t need to pay him just for doing some housework, and he doesn’t need heating or AC either. Even if he talks like he hates everything, he listens well—so you don’t have to worry too much.”
“……”
Those words—half explanation, half plea—made something stir faintly in him.
Very faintly, he began to understand what she was trying to say.
Cheon Sejoo frowned, lips pressed tight.
And the more his expression stiffened, the tighter her grip on his hand became.
Finally, with that desperate, pleading tone still cloaked in a smile, she said:
“So… could you please keep Sejin with you… just until I can get out of here?”
He could hear the tremble at the end of her voice.
Looking down, Cheon Sejoo saw Kim Hyunkyung bowing before him.
A woman older than him by several years, her neck flushed red with shame, was swallowing her pride and begging.
Please look after my son… who has nowhere else to go…
Once, Sejin had told Cheon Sejoo that everything would be fine once he found his mother.
But now it was clear—that had been a naive fantasy.
What could she possibly do?
She couldn’t leave Ihwagak. She couldn’t contact the outside world.
Strictly speaking, Kim Hyunkyung was in even worse shape than Kwon Sejin.
That’s why she had no choice but to cling to a man she barely knew, bowing her head and asking for help.
Please take pity on my child, who has nowhere to go…
“……”
But how could I possibly…
Cheon Sejoo, stifled by the discomfort swelling in his chest, couldn’t say a word.
Far off, watching them from a distance, Sejin saw his expression and stormed over, scowling.
He grabbed his mother by the arm and pulled her upright.
“Stop it, Mom.”
“Stay out of it, Kwon Sejin!”
But Kim Hyunkyung shook him off and gripped Sejoo’s hand even harder.
As if to herself, she mumbled: If I leave now, I’ll never see him again.
Through their conversation, she’d come to realize that without Cheon Sejoo, even this reunion wouldn’t have happened.
She understood now that if Kwon Sejin went anywhere other than Sejoo’s home, she’d lose all contact with her son.
So for her child’s sake, she bowed her head to a much younger man with shameless resolve.
“Please… even just until he becomes an adult. If you could just let him stay with you until then, I swear I’ll repay you when I get out.”
The sight of a mother throwing away her pride and bowing low burned itself into his memory.
The desperation of a parent clawing not to lose her child struck Cheon Sejoo like a bolt of lightning.
He even thought he heard something inside him break.
“…Please, sir…”
But Cheon Sejoo had already planned to send Kwon Sejin away once today was over.
He’d even given up on the idea of passing him off to the orphanage.
Letting a fully grown teenage boy stay in his house had never been part of the plan.
Troubled, Sejoo looked at Sejin—and caught him biting his lip hard.
“Stop it, I said!”
The moment she was pulled away by Sejin’s fierce voice, Cheon Sejoo took the chance to slip away.
His head throbbed.
Rubbing his forehead to stave off the relentless headache, he pretended not to hear the pleading voice asking him to wait.
Back in the parking lot, he perched on the car’s hood and lit a cigarette.
As he inhaled the acrid smoke, he slowly sorted through his thoughts.
…Bringing someone else into the house wasn’t actually that hard.
He needed help around the place anyway.
The house was too big to manage alone—just cleaning the living room, bedroom, and kitchen was a chore.
He often got side dishes from Moon Sunhyuk or ordered in, but both had grown stale.
No.
At that point in his thoughts, Cheon Sejoo shook his head and sighed.
Just hire someone.
There was no logic in bringing that kid into his house.
Feeling suffocated, he undid another button and turned his head toward the wind.
Late September.
The mountain air around Ihwagak was bitterly cold.
Even with the sun blazing, the breeze was sharp enough to raise goosebumps on his neck.
In that chill, Cheon Sejoo kept repeating the same words to himself:
This isn’t my problem.
Even so, Kim Hyunkyung’s image—bowing her head in shame—wouldn’t leave his mind.
Blaming his own weakness, Cheon Sejoo rubbed his forehead with the hand still holding the cigarette.
Ever since swearing to become Shin Goyeon’s hound, he’d had to kill parts of himself.
The Sejoo who was weak around children, the Sejoo who softened for women, the Sejoo who let pity open doors in his heart, the Sejoo who once fought to save lives—he’d buried them all with his own hands.
But no matter how many times he killed those parts, they kept sprouting back like weeds.
He wore many masks to cover what refused to be erased—yet there were still faces that broke through them all.
In moments like this, he truly felt it:
People don’t change easily.
Even so, taking in Kwon Sejin out of pity came with too many strings attached.
Whether as a housekeeper or a maid, bringing Sejin into his home meant accepting responsibility.
He couldn’t even manage himself properly—how could he take responsibility for someone else?
Impossible.
“…Haah.”
Fuck. Should’ve never helped in the first place…
Cursing under his breath in frustration, Cheon Sejoo suddenly heard footsteps crunching on gravel.
He turned his head—and saw Kwon Sejin approaching the car with bloodshot eyes, lips pressed tight like he was holding something back.
Cheon Sejoo glanced toward the dorm entrance.
Kim Hyunkyung was nowhere to be seen. She must’ve gone inside.
“……”
Without a word, Kwon Sejin climbed into the passenger seat.
As Sejoo opened the driver’s side door, Sejin lifted his hand and wiped the tears from his eyes with his hoodie sleeve.
His black hoodie was slightly damp where it had brushed his face.
Cheon Sejoo noticed it just as he turned the ignition—and frowned.
The mother and son both had a way of making people uncomfortable.
“Where to?”
But he did his best to ignore that discomfort.
When he asked in an intentionally casual tone, Sejin replied flatly, as if he hadn’t expected anything:
“Drop me off near your office.”
That tone—like he didn’t expect or want anything—somehow irritated him.
It was Kwon Sejin who’d thrown both Kim Hyunkyung and Cheon Sejoo into this emotional spiral, yet he himself looked completely unaffected.
Suppressing a sigh, Sejoo pressed the gas without a word.
As they crossed out of Gyeonggi Province and into Seoul, over the Han River and into Gangnam, neither of them said a thing.
Much later, the car finally stopped in front of Shinsa Capital.
Sejin gripped the door handle, as if asking without words to be let out.
Just as he was about to leave without another word, Cheon Sejoo spoke first.
“Hey. You got nothing to say to me?”
Sejin, still holding the handle and staring out the window, slowly turned his head.
His face clearly showed how annoyed he was.
He bit his lip, scowled at Sejoo, then muttered as he turned his face away again:
“…Thanks for helping me.”
That’s not what I meant…
A wave of frustration surged up.
He felt like there was something more Sejin should’ve said.
Cheon Sejoo stared at him.
His small lips moved faintly, like he had something else to say—but in the end, he stayed quiet.
He simply nodded, like that was all, and opened the passenger side door.
“That’s really all you’ve got to say?”
Cheon Sejoo grabbed him at last.
As he asked, he felt almost pathetic—like he was begging for a reason to keep helping.
Who even needed the help here, anyway?