MHD - 76

Chapter 76: Before the Truth

“What on earth are you planning to do?!”

Even at Jisun’s outburst, Jae-hyuk didn’t so much as flinch.

“Please support me. I will erase the old Gangrim and rebuild it into an organization of my own.”

“Your own organization?”

“I believe Father would be proud of such a son.”

“Jae-hyuk! No! You can’t do this!”

As Jae-hyuk turned to leave, Jisun sprang to her feet in a panic. She rushed forward and blocked his path.

“Alright, Jae-hyuk, alright. I was wrong. I truly wronged Hee-soo.”

For now, she had to stop him, no matter what. If Jae-hyuk left like this, Jisun couldn’t even imagine the chaos he might unleash.

She had to stop him. Halt him. Make him give up.

When Jisun grabbed his arm, Jae-hyuk looked momentarily surprised but quickly reverted to his emotionless expression.

“What good is repentance if done alone, Mother? You didn’t raise me that way. Strange, isn’t it?”

“In life, there are exceptions. In times like these, it’s only natural for personal matters to be sacrificed. That’s how it should be, right? Jae-hyuk, please come to your senses.”

“You’re right. The sacrifice of trivial matters must be accepted.”

Jisun realized her words had backfired. Jae-hyuk was determined to act exactly as she had inadvertently suggested—and there was no stopping him now.

“I will expose every crime committed by Uncle Jung-hoon, dismantle the rotten organization, and settle everything.”

“Are you declaring that you’ll destroy the company?!”

“I will rebuild it. Just as you wished, Mother.”

While it was true that she had wished for this, Jisun had no intention of sacrificing her own life. Her sacrifices were already buried in the wasted years of the past. This wasn’t what she had wanted.

“Do you understand what you’re saying? You’re dragging your dead father’s name through the mud!”

Exposing Jung-chul’s crimes to the world would mean tarnishing her own reputation as well.

As the wife of a conglomerate chairman and the successor leading the group—

The façade she had maintained, however hollow, would crumble before everyone’s eyes.

“No… not that…”

Jisun shook her head weakly, her spirit broken. Watching her, Jae-hyuk bowed deeply.

“As your son, I apologize for causing you pain. I will accept any criticism that comes my way in the future.”

But when he straightened, his face remained unchanged—his eyes filled with resolve, unshakable by anyone.

“To go this far… to actually go this far…”

As Jisun muttered like a broken record, Jae-hyuk walked steadily toward the door. Just before opening it, he spoke from behind her.

“This will be better for you too, Mother. And this is how I choose to uphold my pride.”

Jisun didn’t turn around. She lacked the courage. She didn’t want to see the look in her son’s eyes, afraid of what they might reveal.

Those eyes seemed capable of piercing through the vanity and pretense that had defined her life.

“I’ll take my leave then.”

Click.

With a soft sound, the door to the chairman’s office closed.

Jisun collapsed onto the floor, drained of all strength.

---

It had been raining since dawn.

The torrential downpour had softened into a drizzle by morning, but the hotel entrance was flooded, resembling a parking lot due to the early rain.

Jae-hyuk stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass window of the suite, gazing indifferently at the gloomy cityscape below.

Raindrops fell from the overcast sky like specks of dust, drifting downward.

The bleak scenery suited the somberness of the day.

Or perhaps not. Shouldn’t this be a day for celebration?

A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he glanced once more at the document in his hand.

「Full Text of Emergency Press Conference」

The content to be read at the press conference would be identical to what would be sent to all media outlets.

It contained an apology for the criminal acts committed within the youth and adult ballet troupes of the cultural foundation a decade ago, along with an acknowledgment and acceptance of responsibility for all related corruption.

After the conference, some would raise celebratory glasses, while others would face bitter consequences.

Undoubtedly, the misdeeds of Jung-chul and Jung-hoon would come to light, and the blame would fall squarely on Jae-hyuk, the current leader of Gangrim.

Within the group, criticism would arise over his decision not to protect the organization.

Jae-hyuk knew he would find himself unwelcome on both sides—but it didn’t matter.

This move would completely dismantle Jung-hoon and his faction, eliminating any lingering threats.

Yes.

Jae-hyuk smiled faintly, furrowing his brow slightly.

He had expedited his original plan, making it rougher and noisier, but he rationalized it as something ultimately done for himself.

Gazing at the gray-clouded sky, Jae-hyuk thought of Hee-soo, somewhere under a distant sky.

If this could free Hee-soo, he would walk this path anytime.

So, if she were to see him today, he hoped she wouldn’t burden herself with guilt or any other emotions.

He wished she would feel no weight at all, discard any lingering thoughts, and soar freely like a bird. He would sever all the ties that bound her, freeing her from the past.

Hee-soo’s face floated above the cloudy sky. The Hee-soo he had recently faced always bore a shadowed expression.

Next time he saw her, he hoped she would be smiling brightly.

Closing his eyes, Jae-hyuk recalled the radiant smile of the young Hee-soo from their childhood.

“Vice President.”

A soft beep sounded, and Director Oh entered the room.

“Is it time?”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

Jae-hyuk nodded lightly and followed Director Oh out.

In the banquet hall a few floors below, the emergency press conference was about to begin.

---

It was well past lunchtime.

Hee-soo finally felt hunger and rose from her seat. Thinking it had been a while since she last visited the small diner near her house, she stepped outside.

Since the night she met Jae-hyuk, Hee-soo had deliberately spent her days reading scripts. When she grew tired, she slept, and when she woke up, she returned to the scripts.

She had fought desperately to erase their conversation from her memory. She needed to forget—it was an act of survival. She no longer wanted to carry Jae-hyuk in her heart.

Everything had reached its limit.

On days when the script failed to hold her attention, she would rush out of the house and walk along the beach for hours until exhaustion overtook her. Returning home, she would collapse onto her bed, her body battered and broken.

Some nights, she was too exhausted to sleep, and on those nights, the image of Jae-hyuk’s anguished face with bloodshot eyes haunted her.

On such nights, she tossed and turned until dawn, finally succumbing to sleep as morning approached.

Her appetite had vanished.

There were days when she barely managed even one meal.

She survived on just enough food to keep herself from starving, but somehow, she endured. The habit of fasting to control her weight during her younger years made this lifestyle familiar to her.

As her body and mind reached their breaking point, her spirit paradoxically felt clearer.

On rare occasions when she felt better, she would visit the small diner near her house, regardless of the time. It was a modest restaurant with only a couple of tables.

The owner bore a striking resemblance to Kimpo-dae. Her tone and accent hinted that her hometown might be somewhere in this region—or perhaps they were even related. Hee-soo often wondered about the connection.

This suspicion deepened because the seasoned cucumber dish the owner prepared tasted remarkably similar to Kimpo-dae’s.

Chewing on the crisp cucumbers sprinkled with sesame oil and toasted sesame seeds brought an involuntary smile to her face. The perfectly seasoned cucumber salad encouraged her to eat at least one more spoonful of rice.

Hee-soo had never finished a full bowl of rice. More often than not, she left her spoon after eating less than half of her portion. Each time Hee-soo visited, the owner looked at her with concern, worried that she might collapse.

Today, too, Hee-soo barely touched the rice in front of her.

Feeling guilty about disappointing the owner, she hesitated. Just then, the owner, who had been watching TV, clicked her tongue and sighed.

“Goodness… truly, no secret lasts forever. But at least the son is better than his father.”

At the sound of the owner’s voice, Hee-soo looked up and froze at the sight of Jae-hyuk filling the TV screen. Below his image, red subtitles scrolled across the screen:

「Emergency Press Conference by Gangrim Group: Acknowledgment of Most #MeToo Allegations」

When Hee-soo glanced at the TV, the owner turned up the volume. Jae-hyuk’s voice filled the small restaurant.

[“I offer my condolences for the unfortunate events that occurred at Gangrim Cultural Foundation ten years ago and pledge to take full responsibility. To support victim relief efforts, we will establish a foundation and entrust its fund management to a nonprofit organization. Additionally, we will fully cooperate with the ongoing investigation into illegal slush funds.”]

As soon as Jae-hyuk finished speaking, reporters sprang to their feet, shouting questions.

[“Do you acknowledge that Gangrim Cultural Foundation was used as a means to embezzle former Chairman Lee Jung-chul’s slush funds?”]

[“Which subsidiaries within Gangrim Group will be restructured?”]

[“What do you anticipate will happen to Director Lee Jung-hoon? Is Gangrim Group changing its stance?”]

Jae-hyuk gestured to one reporter, who promptly asked a question.

[“Why are you acknowledging these past events now?”]

The camera zoomed in on Jae-hyuk’s face as he answered the reporters’ questions. His gaze locked onto the lens, and it felt as though his eyes met Hee-soo’s through the TV screen.

[“Though I was neither directly involved nor witnessed these events, someone must take responsibility. I hope my belated apology can, in some small way, alleviate the suffering of the victims who have been trapped in the past.”]

It felt as if he were speaking directly to her.

In that moment, something inside Hee-soo that had been tightly wound snapped with a sudden twang.