"What? Gambling debt?"
Yeonwoo’s voice rose without warning. The moment his mother brought up his father as soon as they started the call, a headache bloomed behind his eyes. And of all things—it had to be about gambling again.
—It’s not just any debt. Some awful people deliberately targeted your father. He walked into their game without knowing anything, started playing cards like usual, and then—
“Mom! How many times have I told you not to get involved with his gambling problems?”
His mother’s voice was laced with fear. Yeonwoo raked a hand through his hair in frustration.
“I told you, he keeps pulling this crap because you always help him out. He thinks he can get away with anything.”
He couldn’t understand it. When his father was younger, he’d lied about being single and turned Yeonwoo’s mom into “the other woman.” Now that he was older, all he did was cause pain through gambling. Why was she still so desperate to help him?
Yeonwoo had always tried not to get involved. But blood was blood, and sooner or later, it always dragged him back in—just like now.
—I only helped him a little here and there because the amounts weren’t big before…. You know your father never bets huge sums.
“Then what’s the problem?”
—This time… it’s different. I think it got out of hand. I don’t know what to do, Yeonwoo.
Her already unstable voice had begun to tremble. Even without hearing all the details, Yeonwoo could tell she was caught up in something serious.
Here was how it happened: his father had never managed to quit gambling. Every time he fell into debt, he’d promise to stop, and Yeonwoo’s mother, always wanting to believe him, would help repay it.
But the cycle repeated for years, and eventually, some organized group of scammers—professional gambling rings—started to think Yeonwoo’s father had more money than he let on.
They set up a rigged high-stakes game, and his father walked right into it. That’s how he’d been ensnared.
The worst part? It had all happened weeks ago.
And it wasn’t as if a group like that would be tied to legitimate financial institutions. The debt was essentially from loan sharks—once you added up the principal and interest, it was an impossible sum for an average person.
“…So. What’s the total—loan and interest?”
The situation was worse than he’d imagined. His own voice had started to shake.
When he heard the number, Yeonwoo froze. At first, he thought he’d misheard.
“ONE billion won? Mom, are you serious?”
He forgot he was in the emergency stairwell and shouted.
“Where is Dad?! Where is that asshole right now?!”
—He ran. The debt collectors kept coming by, so he fled. I don’t know where he went….
“Mom! How many times have I told you? Stop using the money I give you to bail that man out! You think I make that money easily?!”
—I—I’m sorry, Yeonwoo. I told them I couldn’t help this time. But once he disappeared, they started coming after me to pay instead…. That’s never happened before, not since you were a kid…. B-but this amount is just—
“You’re saying they threatened you? Where are you now? Are you home alone?”
—I packed a few things and went to your aunt’s for now….
“Haah… But even so, how are we supposed to pay that kind of money…!”
Yeonwoo choked on the words and paused to catch his breath. His head throbbed like it was about to split open.
From the moment she said loan sharks had come looking for her, everything around him had gone dim.
“Where the hell am I supposed to get a billion won?! He’s the one who screwed up—make him fix it!”
—I—I told them that too, but they don’t care what I say. He’s gone, and I can’t reach him….
“……”
—I’m sorry… I shouldn’t be saying things like this to my own son….
His mother began to sob. Yeonwoo squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth.
“…I’m not giving you money. I mean it.”
—Y-Yeonwoo… The problem is, there’s no one else left. Those men said they’re going to come after you next….
“When?”
—It’s… it’s been a few days.
Her voice, blurred and crumpled by crying, made it obvious how terrified she was of the people who had come to collect.
If they were threatening to come after him, then they’d already shown up at her place and made a scene. No wonder she was scared.
“…Mom. Did they lay a hand on you? If you’re hurt, just tell me.”
—N-no, I’m okay. I’m more worried about you.
Yeonwoo couldn’t press her any further. He just stood there in a daze, gripping the phone like a lifeline.
The more they talked, the more hopeless it felt. His parents had always been financially reckless. They thought that as long as you covered up the immediate crisis, everything else would somehow work itself out. They never considered the aftermath.
He hadn’t spoken to his father in years. But now, here it was again, crashing down on him. No matter how hard he tried to cut the cord, blood ties clung to him like a scarlet stain—impossible to wash out.
His father was squeezing the life out of him all over again.
***
Yeonwoo didn’t only have bad memories of his father.
When he was little, his father had taught him how to write his name in Chinese characters. He’d carried Yeonwoo around at family gatherings, proudly showing him off to relatives.
“Look at this. He’s so bright—just like me. He’s gonna grow up to be something amazing.”
But in hindsight, that same day, his father also took the New Year’s money Yeonwoo had received from relatives and promised to return it later.
“If you let me hold onto it, I’ll turn it into a hundred times more when you grow up.”
Bullshit, of course. He probably gambled it away that night. Yeonwoo never saw that money again.
The truth was, the man had never once acted like a real father.
Yeonwoo had always sworn he’d never pay off any of his father’s debts. But if his mother was in danger because of him… then that was a different story.
Gambling. Loan sharks. He’d seen it all before—he knew exactly how dangerous it was.
“Didn’t Yijeong’s whole family run away in the middle of the night last week? They got caught anyway—parents went missing and the kids, well… tsk.”
His father had always been surrounded by people tangled in the same filth. Yeonwoo remembered what happened to them—in detail.
There was no time to despair. It wasn’t about enduring anymore—it was about solving the problem.
With debts like this, refusing to pay outright only made things worse. The smarter route was to pay at least something, earn a bit of goodwill, and buy time.
Those people had to know they couldn’t collect the full billion right away. If he could negotiate even a partial payment, maybe he could delay the worst.
The problem was how much he could actually scrape together.
After ending the call, Yeonwoo went to the bank to inquire about a secured loan. But even using the officetel as collateral wouldn’t get him anywhere close to the amount he needed. It would be better to just sell it outright.
—Oh, that officetel? You listed it for sale a while ago, right? Then someone called the next day and canceled it.
He called the real estate agent to confirm the listing and was stunned to hear that it had been canceled—by someone else.
Baek Chahyun. Of course it was him. Yeonwoo had listed it when he first decided to break things off. Chahyun must have blocked the sale behind his back.
“I need it sold. Urgently. If anyone calls to cancel again, call me to confirm first. Understood?”
He emphasized the request again and again before hanging up. Then he went to the bank and withdrew all the savings he’d accumulated since starting his first job after university.
It was his emergency fund—something he’d faithfully contributed to for years. It wasn’t a small amount, but still not enough. Even if he sold the officetel, he wouldn’t be able to come up with a full billion on his own.
And there was no guarantee those loan sharks would actually agree to a deal. But just in case, it was safest to prepare the full amount if possible.
Still… a billion won? It was an impossible figure no matter how he looked at it.
“This is insane.”
He muttered under his breath, sipping a coffee he’d brewed himself at the café.