MHD - 78

Chapter 78: A Day of Feigned Composure

The early rainy season seemed to be approaching, as rain had been falling for days.

Jae-hyuk stepped out of Jae-min’s studio and climbed into the car. Raindrops streaked down the window, leaving diagonal trails. It was an afternoon of drizzling, scattered showers.

“Let’s go.”

At his command, the driver immediately turned the steering wheel. The sedan carrying Jae-hyuk glided slowly through the narrow alleys.

Jae-hyuk sank into the seat, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.

“Why don’t you deliver it to Hee-soo yourself?”

For a moment, Jae-min’s words had shaken him. Every day, he fought the urge to rush to Seo Hee-soo, even without a reason or excuse.

Every breath, every minute, Jae-hyuk yearned for Hee-soo. He wanted to see her desperately.

But he repeated to himself the same words he had told Jae-min, steeling his resolve.

Not yet.

Since the press conference, many things had unfolded.

Lee Jung-hoon was arrested by detectives waiting at the airport the moment he set foot in Korea. He was immediately taken to the police station for questioning.

Of course, there was no protection from the group this time—nothing like before.

Cho Bum-suk’s faction fell into chaos as soon as Jae-hyuk’s press conference ended. They were too entangled in the foundation scandals Jae-hyuk had exposed to spare any thought for Jung-hoon.

Some of Cho’s panicked associates secretly reached out with negotiation offers.

They promised to retire quietly if Jae-hyuk would help them avoid punishment.

Jae-hyuk had refused their plea for “quiet” exits, and most of them were now awaiting imminent police investigations.

“The Power That Brought Down Giant Capital—Where Will It Strike Next?”

The media churned out sensational headlines daily, but Jae-hyuk quietly moved forward, preparing for the next steps.

He skimmed through a few news articles on his phone. When he looked up, he realized they had already arrived near the company.

As Jae-hyuk entered his office, Director Oh hurriedly followed him inside.

“Vice President.”

“Speak.”

Jae-hyuk took off his suit jacket, hung it on a hanger, and sat at his desk. In the meantime, Director Oh placed a thick report on the desk.

“Once the prosecution begins its investigation, they’ll likely start by looking into the nominee accounts.”

“That’s expected.”

It was a recent discovery, but Cho Bum-suk’s faction had relied on nominee accounts buried within Gangrim by Lee Jung-chul.

There had been a gap between Jung-chul’s sudden hospitalization due to worsening illness and Jisun’s eventual takeover of the company—a period of organizational chaos.

During this time, Jung-chul’s closest executives stealthily transferred his slush funds, originally under their names, into their personal accounts.

They had dreamed of the perfect crime, but now those very accounts were tightening the noose around their necks. The money itself was dirty, accumulated through corruption.

Now, claiming ignorance about the nominee accounts wouldn’t hold up anywhere. It was as if they had set the trap themselves and walked right into it.

Jae-hyuk quickly scanned the report on his desk. It contained the evidence to be handed over to the prosecution—proof of the scandals tied to Gangrim Cultural Foundation.

“…Are you sure about this? If this gets into the prosecution’s hands, it will undoubtedly hurt Chairwoman Yoon as well. Though not directly, she cherished the cultural foundation…”

Director Oh asked with a worried expression.

Having become both a money-laundering operation for Jung-chul’s slush funds and a hotbed of crimes exposed by the #MeToo movement, the reputation of Gangrim Cultural Foundation had already hit rock bottom.

Though deceased, Jung-chul’s legacy was being reassessed. Jae-hyuk was dismantling most of the loss-making subsidiaries that had been sustained in Jung-chul’s name.

With the company in such turmoil, the stock market had suspended its evaluation of Gangrim. Led by Gangrim Electronics, all subsidiaries’ stocks were hitting the daily limit down, day after day.

From the outside, it seemed as though Gangrim was on the verge of collapsing into thin air.

“This is the path for a greater cause. Personal emotions must be set aside for now.”

Jae-hyuk placed the report back on the desk.

“After this is over, the overall size of the company may shrink, but its core will grow stronger. It’s like being reborn.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Director Oh collected the materials Jae-hyuk had left on the desk, as he had instructed that they could now be handed over to the prosecution without further review.

As Director Oh prepared to leave, Jae-hyuk asked one last question.

“How has Chairwoman Yoon been lately?”

Jisun had been rejecting all of Jae-hyuk’s calls recently. He hadn’t called her either, so he’d been relying on updates from Director Oh.

As always, Team Leader Gong Sun-young was closely monitoring Jisun. Each morning, Director Oh checked in with Team Leader Gong about Jisun’s condition.

“She’s still staying in her room. It seems she’s started eating a little, though.”

Director Oh cautiously relayed Jisun’s status.

According to reports, during Jae-hyuk’s live press conference, Jisun had collapsed in the chairman’s office while watching the broadcast. She was taken to the hospital and then returned home, where she remained in seclusion. A predictable reaction from her.

“I see. Thank you.”

After Director Oh bowed and left the office, Jae-hyuk dialed Jisun’s number. He didn’t expect her to answer today, but he called every day just in case.

Click.

To his surprise, the call connected.

It had been nearly ten days since Jisun last answered his calls. Though she picked up, she said nothing, so Jae-hyuk spoke first.

“Mother, I’m sorry. This is how it had to be.”

[……]

Silence greeted him from the other end. Only intermittent sighs indicated the call was still connected.

“I’ll do better, despite my mistakes. I’ll accept whatever harsh words you have for me.”

[… How dare you! After all this time!]

After a long silence, Jisun finally responded, her voice trembling with anger and exhaustion.

[Did you have to humiliate your own mother like this? Do you feel satisfied now? Doing whatever you want?]

“I have nothing to say.”

[You’re no son of mine.]

Though Jisun’s words cut like knives, Jae-hyuk listened calmly. This was a moment when such reactions were understandable. He could endure this much, given the depth of her grievances.

[Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you even listening?]

When Jae-hyuk remained silent, Jisun’s voice grew increasingly hysterical. To calm her, he spoke gently:

“Yes, I’m listening, Mother. But deep down, you know this is the right thing to do. Isn’t that how you raised me?”

[I didn’t teach you to turn against your own mother! You ungrateful child.]

“Mother.”

Jae-hyuk tried again to explain his intentions and persuade her, but the call abruptly ended. Jisun had hung up.

Jae-hyuk already anticipated it would take some time for Jisun to face the situation with clarity.

You already know, Mother. This was inevitable.

Staring at the phone’s now-blank screen, Jae-hyuk smiled bitterly.

At least she had answered the call this time. That was progress. He resolved to keep trying to convince her until she came around, believing that someday she would understand his reasons.

For that to happen, many things needed to fall into place in the right direction.

There was still so much to do.

---

Click.

Jae-hyuk arrived home late at night, just before midnight.

As always, he removed his suit jacket and loosened his tie as he walked into the kitchen. After pulling a cold bottle of water from the fridge and downing a glass, his gaze drifted to the city lights visible beyond the living room window.

Life flowed like a river, steady and unrelenting.

Outwardly, he maintained a composed demeanor, but inwardly, he bore each day like enduring lashes. In truth, the criticism wasn’t entirely misplaced—public opinion continued to batter the group over its past wrongdoings, and it weighed on him.

Amidst all this, Jae-hyuk had established a foundation to support victims and quietly persisted in fulfilling his responsibilities despite the relentless backlash.

After battling through each day like a warrior on a battlefield, he finally returned home, where a wave of exhaustion washed over him, bringing thoughts of Hee-soo to the forefront of his mind.

Where are you now? What are you doing? Do you think of me, even a little?

Jae-hyuk poured himself a glass of whiskey on the rocks and sat on the living room sofa.

Out of habit, he searched for films featuring Hee-soo. Though he had watched them countless times, he revisited them almost every night, watching and rewatching.

He loved seeing her face fill the screen, hearing her voice flow endlessly.

Sometimes, he fell asleep in the living room with the TV still on.

Closing his eyes to the sound of her voice, he would drift off and dream.

Dreams of waiting for her performance to end, holding a bouquet of flowers, and seeing her radiant smile as she accepted it with flushed cheeks.

They were pleasant dreams, filled with warmth.

Scrolling through the list of her works, Jae-hyuk hesitated when Paradise Lost appeared. It was the only film he hadn’t been able to watch twice. The version of Seo Hee-soo in that movie had hurt him too deeply. He couldn’t bring himself to revisit it.

Instead, he chose another romantic film starring Hee-soo. A melodrama that had earned her the nickname “Nation’s First Love” for her exceptional beauty.

Jae-hyuk also loved Hee-soo in this film. Watching her felt like glimpsing the twenty-year-old Hee-soo, evoking nostalgia each time.

[“I love you.”]

The Hee-soo on screen spoke.

Today felt strange. Unlike usual, this version of Hee-soo in the film also stirred pain in his heart. Her confession of love overlapped with the image of Seo Hee-soo he had seen by the southern sea.

Why hadn’t he realized it before? That every word she spoke was a cry directed at him.

Jae-hyuk downed the whiskey in one gulp.

It tasted bitter on his tongue.