PMN - 2

02. Regret

It happened on a Wednesday, the day before the college entrance exam.

Since it was the day before the exam, school let out early.

As she opened the front door and habitually glanced at the shoe rack, Song-ah spotted a familiar pair of shoes.

It was Yoon Hyung-woo and his lover.

Yoon Hyung-woo’s lovers were usually men, but he wasn’t particularly picky about gender or age.

If he felt like it, he slept with them; if he wanted to, he moved in with them. Among them was a woman who looked to be in her early twenties, and during the time they lived together, she suffered from indigestion from all the meals they shared. There were times when she demanded her stolen wallet or bag back, only to have her hair pulled out. There were worse things, but she didn’t want to dredge up those memories. Talking about it would only make her feel worse.

She hated the young male lovers Yoon Hyung-woo brought home to live with him. She hated their blatant, leering gazes that made her feel exposed. She hated when they stole her underwear. And after learning that they wore her underwear while engaging in perverse acts, she wanted to kill both Yoon Hyung-woo and his lovers.

The house always reeked of a fishy, metallic smell. She knew exactly what that smell was.

Every time her grandfather’s lover glanced at her, every time those unpleasant hands reached out to her, she ran away and left the house. During those years, she was utterly alone. In the end, there was nowhere to run, no place to escape to, and she was left isolated and lonely.

‘That little girl is already so forward, so bold. If only you’d behaved properly, there wouldn’t be all this noise. Honestly, it’s not like we were planning to let her get married. The older she gets, the more she acts just like her grandmother.’

She wanted to kill him for scolding her, saying she’d already learned how to chase after men. After each cohabitation ended, different men and women came and went almost daily. Those nights spent waiting outside for their sexual encounters to end were unbearable. She wished she could live in a world without Yoon Hyung-woo.

Chewing on a cheap 3,000-won hamburger from the convenience store, she wondered how she could kick Yoon Hyung-woo out of her life in one fell swoop. Was it even possible? Even if she left Yoon Hyung-woo, could she really sever those blood ties?

Without even taking off her shoes, she slammed the front door shut and left the house.

She had nowhere to go. After flipping through books at the library, Song-ah gave up on reading and left. Still, thanks to her natural intelligence, she ranked near the top of her class. Some might say she was lucky, but whether she took after her mother or her father—both of whom died young—she didn’t know. What she did know was that she had a knack for studying.

She wasn’t the type to study for long hours; instead, she focused intensely for short periods. Two hours of concentrated study allowed her to cover more material than Cheol-woo, who spent entire days at his desk. Her efficiency was like a batter with a good swing—she didn’t need many attempts to hit her target.

She refused to admit that she might have inherited this trait from Yoon Hyung-woo.

After wandering near the sauna, she headed to the convenience store where Cheol-woo worked.

The sauna didn’t allow minors to stay overnight. Once the sun set, she had to leave.

“That’ll be 4,500 won. What’s up, Yoon Song-ah? Why’d you come all of a sudden?”

Cheol-woo had started working part-time at a convenience store run by a friend as soon as he turned 18, the age at which he could work without parental consent. Before that, he’d lamented that he couldn’t even do manual labor unless he dropped out of school.

Song-ah also wanted to find a way to become financially independent as soon as possible after the college entrance exam. She’d once praised Cheol-woo for his resourcefulness while asking him to help her find a part-time job, to which he’d laughed and said it was all born out of poverty.

Song-ah grabbed a chocolate bar from the snack aisle and brought it to the counter.

“6,000 won.”

“Here.”

After paying, she handed the chocolate bar to Cheol-woo.

“Good luck on the exam.”

“What’s this? A pity chocolate bar?”

“Don’t choke on it. And don’t go blaming me if you fail the exam.”

“It’s not poisoned, is it?”

“Didn’t you just see me buy it?”

Cheol-woo’s lack of suspicion made her feel at ease. It was a testament to how close they were as friends.

Cheol-woo went to the snack aisle and handed her a gold-wrapped chocolate bar. It felt like two lonely people exchanging chocolates on Valentine’s Day.

“You’re not seeing anyone?”

“She’s busy. What can I do? I’m just a lowly guy preparing for the college entrance exam.”

She smiled slightly as she took the chocolate and put it in her pocket. Just then, the door chimed, and a group of girls in familiar school uniforms walked in.

One of the girls whispered loudly enough to be heard.

“Isn’t that Yoon Song-ah? She’s working here part-time.”

“Wasn’t she into sugar daddies? Guess she’s broke now. I heard old men go crazy for her.”

“She flaunts her big boobs to attract guys. Guess it works on old men too.”

Even though they clearly saw Cheol-woo in his convenience store uniform, they giggled, trying to provoke her.

“Those bitches.”

Cheol-woo was furious, but she stopped him. She didn’t want to cause any more trouble, especially not for him.

“Hey. These days, anyone can get that big with surgery. I could do it too. Just slap some silicone in there.”

“There’s a difference between natural and fake. You idiot. And if you go that big, it’s obvious. Even the best plastic surgeons have their limits. Yours would never look natural.”

They used to mock her for being rich and acting high and mighty, but now they were spreading rumors about her being a sugar baby. They didn’t care about the truth; they just wanted to insult her.

“Dumbasses.”

She muttered under her breath, but somehow they heard her and stormed over.

“Hey, what did you say?”

“Customers, we have CCTV here. If you cause trouble, it’ll all be recorded.”

Song-ah smirked and gestured for them to place their items on the counter.

They slammed a box of condoms down. These days, it was legal to sell condoms to teenagers. She didn’t know the difference between special and regular types, but regular condoms could be sold to minors. Cheol-woo had once complained about how the world had changed, sounding like an old man.

After receiving their change, they glared at her but didn’t say anything. The mention of CCTV seemed to deter them. They left without another word.

Guess they’re scared of the police. She felt like she’d won. She had nothing to fear. People with weaknesses always lose. She shook her head at her own childish thoughts and turned to see Cheol-woo grinning.

“Hey, how can you just take that from them? Are you some kind of saint? What, are you on some kind of spiritual journey?”

“What’s the point of fighting? Just do your job. I’m heading home.”

“They’re just taking turns being assholes.”

She left the convenience store and wandered aimlessly. This kind of life wasn’t unfamiliar to her. Because of Yoon Hyung-woo’s lovers, she often couldn’t go home and had to roam the streets. Running away wouldn’t solve anything; without money, she’d just end up drifting from place to place, no different from now. She didn’t need to try it to know it was a dead end.

As the sun set and darkness fell, she headed home. Someone called her name. Song-ah, who had been staring at the ground, looked up.

“Oppa, my debt’s all paid now, right?”

“Did you wipe the interest with your ass?”

“Come on, how much is that? It’s just three days late. Is 500 won even money to you? Fine. Then for a year, I’ll do whatever you want, no conditions. I’ll spread my legs for you day or night. Okay?”

“You think you can just flash your pussy and get money for free, you bitch? You think the world’s that easy?”

“Why not? Eat me whenever you want. I’m being generous here.”

“Use your brain. How many girls have offered to sleep with me? Why should I give you special treatment?”

“…You only get smart at times like this, huh? But I’m good, aren’t I? I’ll give you great service, Oppa. How many girls can handle your dick as well as I can? Huh?”

“What makes your pussy worth 500 won? It’s all stretched out from other guys’ dicks. And when have I ever chased after you? You take my money and then act like this, you bitch.”

“You’re disgusting. You enjoyed it too, Oppa. Don’t act like you didn’t.”

“Sera, I have a short attention span. I can’t stand eating something tasteless for too long. You know that. I’m picky.”

A woman with breasts the size of a child’s head was crouching with her legs spread, completely naked except for a single shoe. She didn’t seem to notice the breeze between her legs as she tried to persuade him. Her tactics didn’t work; he was already bored of her. Patience wasn’t a trait he cultivated in his domain. He was even more persistent. He didn’t have a regular sex partner. Most of his encounters were one-night stands.

“Ah, Oppa…”

“Ugh, go screw yourself. Go sell your pussy or ass to some other guy, do whatever the hell you want. Why don’t you go out there and piss with your crotch wide open? There are plenty of old geezers who’d love that. Who knows, they might just come running, thinking, ‘Oh, this is my place!’“

“Isn’t that your kind of thing? And it’s Seri, not Sera! How many times did I dump my load inside you, and you still can’t remember my name?”

“What does your name have to do with me getting your load?”

Jong-seop, biting on the cigarette filter, lit the end and blew out smoke, his eyebrows twitching.

The woman, whining about something, tossed her hair back.

“Don’t ask me stuff like that so seriously, you psychopath.”

Moonseong’s room salon, managed by Choi Si-baek. Inside the office, Jong-seop watched Si-baek, who was ignoring his gibberish and organizing the remaining documents.

That bastard, he could be screwing his brains out in here and wouldn’t even bat an eye. Even when he was mercilessly grabbing and shaking a woman’s breasts during sex, or when she was pushing his dick out of her, screaming about giving birth, he’d just smoke and stare at his work with dry eyes.

The office, filled with hazy cigarette smoke, was quiet except for the rustling of papers. Every time Si-baek rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing black tattoo fragments, a document was flipped.

That’s how Jong-seop saw the world. Women who’d open their legs and assholes to pay off their debts, and a guy who wouldn’t even pretend to notice when someone was getting laid next to him. But ironically, in this messed-up world, Jong-seop was the most abnormal one.

“Oppa, you’re standing? I’ll suck you off now, take 500,000 off my debt.”

“You think I’m hard because of you? I’m naturally always hard. Go play somewhere else, don’t bother me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Watch your mouth. You’re the one with the problem. Only say what you can take responsibility for.”

“Come on, cut me some slack.”

“Shut the hell up and pay your debt.”

Si-baek, who had extinguished the cigarette he was barely smoking, walked past Jong-seop, who was still fiddling with his dick, and left the office. Jong-seop followed him out, shaking off the clingy woman. He seemed to be in a bad mood lately.

“What’s with the old man act? Feeling horny now that winter’s coming?”

“Just smoke your cigarette.”

“What’s the fun in your life? You live to watch me, don’t you?”

“I’ve seen some crazy people in your age group.”

“Fuck you.”

“How’s Yoon Hyung-woo doing?”

“How’s what doing?”

“We keep missing shipments. Is Yoon Hyung-woo really out of the question?”

“For now.”

“Why are you handling things like that?”

“You snake. Now you’re nagging me too, huh?”

“Check it properly. Big Boss is keeping an eye on this.”

“Alright, I will.”

Jong-seop lit another cigarette and stared across the street.

A group of kids in school uniforms, easily over a dozen, were walking together. Among them was a guy not in uniform. Jong-seop recognized a familiar face. He was sure he’d seen him somewhere. He was being held back by some other kids, but he wasn’t really trying to escape. He’d just snap if they touched his clothes or body.

“They’re not going to gangbang him, are they?”

“Who knows?”

“That’d be fun. Should I join in?”

Jong-seop bit down on the filter, sucking hard.

“What time is Big Boss’s flight tomorrow?”

Si-baek, who had been silently smoking through Jong-seop’s nonsense, asked in a low voice.

Jong-seop wondered if he even had any emotions.

“7 o’clock.”

Jong-seop, who had been staring at the direction the girl had disappeared, put out his cigarette with his shoe.

Pale skin, big eyes, unusually flushed cheeks, that pretty face. Where had he seen it before?

“Isn’t that Yoon Hyung-woo’s daughter? I heard he keeps a minor around.”

“It’s his granddaughter, not his daughter.”

“Huh?”

“It’s his grandfather, not his father. Yoon Hyung-woo has a granddaughter.”

“Damn, he must have been fertile. When the hell did Yoon Hyung-woo knock someone up? He doesn’t even have a bald spot. So that’s why. That son of a bitch.”

Si-baek went back inside the salon, leaving Jong-seop to curse.

“That bastard, he goes inside while Big Boss is talking.”

Jong-seop, still mocking Yoon Hyung-woo’s virility, followed him inside.

Song-ah touched her stinging cheek. Where had it all gone wrong? Coming to this school, no, going to high school, or even being born. No matter how far back she went, there was no good answer.

“Do you know what she said to me? I can’t believe it.”

“Hey, you know there are no CCTVs here, right?”

The idiots whispered in her ear and then giggled. She had given up trying to figure out why these guys, who weren’t even from her school, were doing this to her. For them, bullying someone was just fun, and she was the unlucky target. No matter how much the victim tried to find a reason, it would only give the perpetrators an excuse. At least she hoped her beliefs were right.

How bored must they be? She thought, “You guys are as bored as I am.” They were trying to relieve their boredom through her, but she didn’t plan to refuse.

“Just because there are no CCTVs for you doesn’t mean there aren’t any for me.”

“What?”

“Have you ever been to jail? Should I send you there? Let’s go together. It’ll be fun.”

“What are you talking about, you crazy bitch?”

Song-ah groped the floor and gripped a broken beer bottle tightly.

She had said it many times, she had nothing to fear.

“Damn, what do we do?”

The guy kicked her leg, and it gave way. He leaned close to her face, which was half-lowered and eyes closed, and spewed out curses. She felt crushed chocolate on her fingertips. The sickeningly sweet smell of chocolate mixed with the stench of blood, stinging her nose.

“There are no CCTVs anyway. Let’s just run.”

“Damn it.”

The sound of their footsteps running down the alley faded away. Song-ah, with her blurred vision, barely exhaled her dying breath. It was like she was exhaling in water where her height barely touched the surface. Every time she tried to give her body strength to get up, red blood flowed out of her wrist as if it was flowing backwards. Glass shards were thickly embedded between her torn flesh.

Her head kept trying to fall to the floor. Drowsiness was pouring in. She couldn’t pass out, she couldn’t lose consciousness, but her body wouldn’t cooperate and kept staggering.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Song-ah pulled her hand, stained with shoe sole marks, out of her pocket and fumbled for her phone.

“...Jinhan... Oh...”

“Are you asleep already? Did I call you while you were sleeping?”

“I... need... some... help...”

Her panting breath gradually subsided, and her body lost strength to the point of feeling comfortable. She finally collapsed to the side. The faint voice in the receiver, a shout of “Yoon Song-ah!” It was strange. Even though her blood was flowing out of her body as if it was pouring into one place and she was out of her mind, she thought the smell of chocolate was so sweet.

If she had known that she would be in the hospital because of this incident last night, she wouldn’t have even dreamed of it.

Come to think of it, there was something to be afraid of.

Now that she had personally experienced the typhoon, she was filled with regret. She should have at least run away. Even if there was no way to escape, she should have at least struggled. Even if the result wouldn’t have changed much, she should have, she should have at least tried to resist.

Life is something you only know when you face it.

While she was lying there so comfortably, the college entrance exam was taken, and she didn’t open her eyes until two days after the exam.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she woke up refreshed, but she felt strangely light, as if her heavy eyes had become lighter. Sure enough, she had slept for three days straight. It seemed like the first time she had slept so soundly since she was very young. Ironically, she even felt that her body, which had been broken by sleep disorders, had become much lighter.

The hospital room became a sanctuary of sorts, though not by choice. Yoon Song-ah had been lying there for nearly ten days, her body heavy with exhaustion and her mind dulled by the weight of everything that had happened. She wasn’t running away from anything in particular—she simply couldn’t muster the strength to face the world outside. Her college entrance exam was over, and with it, any hope of starting university this year. There was no point in rushing back to reality when reality itself felt so suffocating.

Her grandfather, Yoon Hyung-woo, had been busy cleaning up the mess she’d left behind. To him, the police investigation and the scandal were nothing more than nuisances that needed to be swept under the rug as quickly as possible. He didn’t care about the details of what had happened; all he cared about was maintaining appearances. And Song-ah knew exactly how furious he must have been. Breaking his cardinal rule—”Keep your head down and stay out of trouble”—was unforgivable in his eyes. Still, she wasn’t particularly worried. She understood the game he was playing. For now, she was a necessary piece in his grand design, and he wouldn’t discard her until she’d served her purpose.

But even knowing this, Song-ah couldn’t help but feel trapped. The walls of the hospital room seemed to close in on her, suffocating yet strangely comforting. She spent most of her time staring out the window at the snow falling silently between the cracks of darkness. It was peaceful, in a way. Peaceful enough to make her forget—for a moment—that she was merely biding her time before the next phase of her life began.

---

### February 6th, the day before graduation.

Song-ah turned twenty while locked inside her house. Becoming an adult should have felt monumental, but nothing had changed for her. Not her home, not her room, not her circumstances. She hadn’t resisted much when her grandfather confined her to the house after her discharge from the hospital. She knew better than to provoke him further. For now, she would lie low and wait. Once graduation passed, she could finally put her plans into motion.

Yoon Hyung-woo’s threats echoed in her mind: “If you cause another scene, I’ll throw you out without a penny.” But Song-ah wasn’t afraid. She knew he wouldn’t dare cut her off completely—not yet. He still needed her, though not out of affection. His intentions were clear, even if the specifics remained murky. Whatever his plan was, she was certain it involved using her to expand his business empire. That was the kind of man he was.

As she gazed out the window, lost in thought, the sound of footsteps approached her door. Without warning, it swung open, and Lee Sang-heon stepped inside. One of Yoon Hyung-woo’s lovers, Sang-heon was a man who thrived on power dynamics and manipulation. He often tried to assert dominance over Song-ah, testing the limits of what he could get away with. But despite his bravado, he always treaded carefully around Yoon Hyung-woo—the source of his financial stability.

Today, however, he seemed emboldened. Dressed in an expensive suit paid for by Yoon Hyung-woo’s money, he smirked as he entered the room.

“Get out,” Song-ah said coldly. “Why are you here?”

“Watch your tone, you little bitch,” Sang-heon sneered. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you. Don’t worry—I’ll take good care of you once I’m done with your grandfather. Aren’t you excited?”

“If you’re so confident, why don’t you tell him yourself?” Song-ah shot back, her voice dripping with disdain. “Are you scared he’ll cut you off? You know you’re nothing without him.”

Sang-heon’s face twisted in anger. Before she could react, his hand struck her cheek, hard. Unlike Yoon Hyung-woo, who exercised restraint, Sang-heon held nothing back. His blows came fast and brutal, followed by kicks aimed at her stomach. He grabbed her shirt, trying to tear it off, his breath hot against her ear as he muttered obscenities.

Just as Song-ah thought she might suffocate under his weight, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. Yoon Hyung-woo had arrived.

“Shit, he’s here already,” Sang-heon muttered, straightening up instantly. With a smug smile, he exited the room as if nothing had happened.

Behind the closed door, Song-ah lay trembling, clutching her chest. Another day survived. Only one more to go.

---

### February 7th, Graduation Day.

The school grounds were bustling with students celebrating the end of their high school journey. Snow blanketed the campus, glittering under the pale winter sun. For most, it was a day filled with excitement and anticipation. But for Song-ah, it felt surreal. She stood apart from the crowd, an outsider looking in. While others dreamed of university and newfound freedom, she was stuck in limbo, forced to repeat a year she hadn’t even chosen.

“Yoon Song-ah!”

Jin-han’s voice cut through the noise as he sprinted toward her, tossing aside the bouquet of flowers he’d received from admirers. Without waiting for her response, he grabbed her hand and led her away. Sensing her reluctance, he glanced at her repeatedly, ensuring she wouldn’t slip away.

“Do you have a cigarette?” Song-ah asked suddenly.

Jin-han hesitated but eventually pulled out a pack. Though neither of them smoked regularly, the act felt rebellious, almost liberating. They sat on a bench near the school gate, Jin-han puffing away while Song-ah watched silently.

“Think of it like drinking milk through a straw,” he said, handing her the cigarette. “Just suck gently.”

She placed the filter between her lips and inhaled deeply. Immediately, harsh smoke burned her throat, forcing her to cough violently. After a few failed attempts, she gave up and handed the cigarette back to Jin-han, who chuckled softly.

“You’re still too young for this,” he teased. “Candy suits you better.”

Song-ah managed a weak smile, though her thoughts were elsewhere. Despite his lighthearted demeanor, Jin-han’s expression grew serious as he studied her.

“That night—you remember calling me, right? I helped you because I was worried. Why didn’t you answer my calls afterward?”

She couldn’t bring herself to explain the two months she’d spent confined to her room, her phone confiscated, her movements restricted. Instead, she deflected his concern.

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Really.”

Jin-han frowned, clearly unconvinced. “Your grandfather… something’s off about him. I overheard him talking on the phone at the hospital. He wasn’t concerned about what happened to you—he just wanted everything kept quiet. Even the police left without pressing charges. This isn’t normal, Song-ah.”

“It’s mutual fault,” she replied flatly. “Let’s leave it at that.”

Though grateful for his concern, Song-ah knew Jin-han couldn’t save her from this quagmire. No one could. Dragging him into her mess would only hurt him, and she couldn’t bear the thought of causing him harm.

“Can I have the rest of your cigarettes?” she asked abruptly, changing the subject.

He sighed but handed over the pack without protest. “If you ever need help, I’m here,” he said quietly. “But I won’t push if you don’t want to talk.”

For a brief moment, she felt a flicker of gratitude. Jin-han had visited her in the hospital multiple times, yet he never pressured her to open up. His kindness, though small, meant more than he realized.

As they parted ways, Song-ah lit another cigarette, watching the ember glow brightly against the cold air. Adulthood wasn’t defined by age, she realized. Growing older didn’t guarantee wisdom or freedom. Some lessons took longer to learn—and some wounds ran deeper than others.

---

Song-ah stood, looking up at a building.

2nd floor: Boxing gym. 3rd floor: Shinwon Finance.

Though it appeared to be a boxing gym and a private loan office, it was actually Moonseong’s business, where they laundered money. It was an office that handled the dirty work and tasks that the headquarters couldn’t. The person in charge of this business was Kim Jong-seop, that man.

Kim Jong-seop. The left-hand man of Moonseong’s executive director.

She had exchanged a wad of cash for this information from the guy guarding Yoon Hyung-woo’s office. She pulled out the man’s business card she had received from the guard.

Even if she went to the headquarters to find Kim Jong-seop, the chances of meeting him were slim. No sane person would kindly guide a high school girl who suddenly barges in.

She knew that this was where they laundered bribes and where shady connections came and went. She had seen and heard enough, and had been around it for over ten years.

She climbed the concrete stairs. Past the firmly closed boxing gym on the second floor, she went up another flight of stairs to the private loan office. The door was closed. Come to think of it, the whole building was eerily quiet.

Was he not coming today? Not being able to predict the man’s schedule was like searching for a lighthouse in the vast ocean. Song-ah, who had been waiting endlessly in front of the door, sat down on the stairs leading to the 4th floor and the rooftop, pulled her knees to her chest, and rested her cheek on them. The cold from the concrete seeped into her bones. Song-ah tightened the white muffler around her neck. Even though her butt was freezing from sitting there, she felt more comfortable here than at home. It was strange. She felt more at ease in this place she had never been to before. Her eyes slowly closed. The cold was nothing to her.

Song-ah rubbed her cramped arms. She didn’t know how long she had been like this, or how many hours had passed, but her butt hurt. She rubbed her swollen eyes and opened them.

A pair of shiny shoes came into her dark vision. Black men’s shoes. Suit pants. As Song-ah raised her head a little more, she almost screamed, something she hadn’t even done when her wrist was broken. A man, bending down to her eye level, was staring at her. Dark, striking features. Kim Jong-seop, that man. She felt inexplicably scared. It was the man’s aura and eyes.

“Choi Si-baek, was he hiding a woman?”

“Excuse me?”

“That fucking goody-two-shoes, I wondered when he’d get his dick wet, but he was too busy fucking a high schooler?”

She couldn’t tell if he was laughing or criticizing her. She only knew that the terrifying words were directed at her. She stared at the man who was looking at her.

She wasn’t a minor anymore, she was just wearing her graduation uniform, but she couldn’t bring herself to explain when the man’s gaze slowly fell over her eyes, nose, mouth, and features. An indescribable force pressed down on her. She felt overwhelmed by his gaze, unable to even speak properly. She felt uneasy.

Song-ah slowly straightened her back and stood up. The man also straightened his posture.

He had been wearing a burgundy shirt that day, but today he was wearing a dark orange shirt and slacks. It was a color that could look excessive if not pulled off well, but somehow it didn’t look tacky. The shirt fit him exceptionally well, thanks to his broad frame and posture.

His triangular shoulder blades and strong chest made him look more like a Westerner than an Easterner. He reminded her of an officer in an Austrian movie she had seen.

His solidly curved chest looked like it was armored with muscles. His perfectly placed muscles looked like a sculpture carved by a master of detail. Anyone who saw him would be amazed.

She wondered what kind of exercise he did to have such a body, if it was even possible to build such a body with exercise without being born with it. As she looked up at him with primal curiosity, her eyes naturally went to his face.

“Choi Si-baek doesn’t seem to have a hobby of beating up and fucking high schoolers.”

It seemed more like he was talking to himself than asking her. Ah, was it because of the wound on her cheek?

It was the lingering mark of the slap she had received from Lee Sang-heon last night.

“I’m not a high schooler...”

“That’s my taste.”

The man, who nonchalantly made a joke that she couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, laughed casually. It was hard to tell this man that she had come to see him.

As if he had company, another unfamiliar man came up. She guessed it was the man called Choi Si-baek. A calm but sharp impression, a completely different aura from Kim Jong-seop, an indescribable sense of pressure that immediately caught her eye.

She bowed her head involuntarily. He didn’t bother to acknowledge her. The man just stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking at her. If Kim Jong-seop had a delinquent vibe, this man had a more refined feel, which made his impression even colder. His gray coldness was so thick that he seemed aloof.

She stared blankly at him, not avoiding his gaze, which had been on her for a long time.

There wasn’t a single normal person here.

“What are you doing, standing a naive high schooler here? Are you comparing dicks?”

Why didn’t that man explain or make excuses, even with Kim Jong-seop’s words? Did he not care? He was an unfathomable man.

“Just shove it in when it’s hard. Do you think you can keep your dick hard and fuck forever?”

“I’m not, I came to see Kim Jong-seop.”

She quickly stated her business, fearing they would go on until the national anthem’s fourth verse and encore.

Wasn’t it more natural to show a surprised expression? But the man, who had only been spitting out vulgar words, just looked down at her with a strange expression.

Choi Si-baek let out a small sigh and opened the glass door, going into the office.

One of the men standing behind Kim Jong-seop suddenly spoke up in a gruff voice.

“Boss, is this a girl you know?”

“Isn’t this the girl who showed up because of your seed, boss? Are you going to be a dad now, boss?”

The thugs grinned and then laughed. She had told them she came to see him, but Kim Jong-seop just looked down at her, smiling faintly. Song-ah swallowed hard. Her throat was numb.

“I know about Yoon Hyung-woo’s corruption. From the bribes he took and the shady deals he made, to the drugs he stole and the deals he made on the side, or maybe I can find out even more.”

Was there no way to fluster this man? When she met him at Yoon Hyung-woo’s office, he didn’t even flinch, and even though the name she mentioned would be unexpected, he didn’t even blink as he looked down at her.

Maybe it was because the words coming out of a kid in a school uniform sounded like something a bar girl would say. But she didn’t want to make excuses like she had lived with Yoon Hyung-woo and that’s how she knew, without being asked. Either way, this was her, and she didn’t have time to play coy with her urgent situation.

“So?”

“I can help you get rid of Yoon Hyung-woo.”

A subtle smile spread across his lips as he overtly chuckled. He couldn’t hide the feeling that he was watching a kid putting on a solo show at a talent show. What was it? She was momentarily scared because she couldn’t figure out the meaning of that smile hidden behind the beast’s mask. Fear struck without warning.

“Boss, who is this girl? Is she a Yoon Hyung-woo’s pet?”

“He’s not a girl, he’s a guy, you idiot. Isn’t that right, boss?”

“Oh, right, I heard he’s crazy about dicks. I heard guys with dicks shit their pants and open their assholes when they see another dick.”

“He’s famous for fucking guys’ assholes.”

The thugs openly giggled. Song-ah just looked up at the man in front of her.

“Why should I do that?”

“Excuse me?”

“You came all the way here because you’re horny, you must have been so desperate. But pretty, what a shame. I don’t really want to kill him.”

“He’s running a business in your territory, making shady deals and ruining everything, why don’t you care?”

The man looked at her with an “I told you so” expression, his eyes narrowing like a snake. He was smiling. He didn’t seem sane.

“Well.”

“Excuse me?”

“Because you’re too desperate?”

What was he talking about? The man, who kept spouting incomprehensible words, seemed calm, even though he was making a nonchalant face. Maybe he knew how scorched she was inside.

She noticed his eyes were on her left wrist, where a scar was clearly visible. Was he thinking she had tried to commit suicide? It was easy to misunderstand. Of course, she didn’t want to explain herself like someone who was guilty without being asked.

“If you beg like that, I won’t be turned on.”

“...Excuse me? What does that mean?”

“If we catch and kill all the fish that muddy the water, who will catch the big fish? Don’t you think?”

It was a devastating feeling, like all the words piled up in her head had instantly evaporated.

“Kid, do you know the basics of business?”

What was he talking about? The man, who kept uttering incomprehensible words, seemed surprisingly calm despite his nonchalant face.

“The customer has to be so horny that they’re wondering whether to eat it or not, their lower body tingling. Only then will they choose to buy it or devour it.”

It was clear that this man was talking about her value as a product. It was just that his metaphor was vulgar.

“Do you think I can’t do what you’re doing?”

In other words, the deal she brought was worthless.

She had so much to say, like a mountain of words stacked neatly in her mind, but they all crumbled under pressure, like trash cans collapsing into disorder. How many minutes had passed since they met? They didn’t know each other, yet they hadn’t even properly introduced themselves. There wasn’t time for an ordinary conversation before everything turned into chaos.

Song-ah came here believing she was wearing impenetrable armor that could withstand any attack, but now she stood there completely exposed, her fragile self laid bare.

“But surely…!”

“Judging by how much you’re fretting, I can see your situation is messy. But what do I get out of cleaning up your mess?”

What do I get out of it? Song-ah thought he wanted to get rid of Yoon Hyung-woo too. It was only natural. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all. In fact, unless there were major variables, this was a foolproof tactic. That’s why she came to him, but it seemed Yoon Hyung-woo wasn’t even considered an adversary to him. Worse, he seemed like an utterly insignificant non-entity. Her mind raced, unsure how to respond.

Without even putting up a token resistance, Song-ah had no choice but to stand there feeling stripped bare.

It was as if a zipper had been sewn onto her mouth; she couldn’t find the words. Her palms were drenched in sweat, opening and closing repeatedly. She swallowed nervously, acutely aware of the man’s unnervingly calm gaze on her. What am I even doing here? All Song-ah could do was grip her bloodless hands tightly.

“Do you think this neighborhood exists just to suck up to you?”

How did this man know? How did he instantly sense that I was suffering because of Yoon Hyung-woo? He must have realized her purpose the moment he saw her. That’s why he didn’t seem surprised when he looked at her.

Song-ah came here with every intention of delivering a sharp blow. It had taken considerable resolve to come this far. She confidently stepped up to the plate, but instead of hitting a home run—or even making contact with the ball—she struck out.

“So, what do you want?”

When no strategy seems to work anymore, sometimes a straightforward pitch is needed more than a curveball. Song-ah believed now was that time.

“Why, will you give it to me if I ask?”

“...If it’s money, I…”

“You’re quick.”

Even the fastball didn’t work. There was nothing left to try. The game was over.

“Do I look desperate enough to take pocket change from you?”

“...Then what exactly…”

“Pretty girl. If you keep giving me everything I want, later on, you won’t be able to have kids. Is that okay with you?”

‘Why?’ The word almost slipped out but got swallowed back down her throat. Was he planning to use her as a surrogate mother? Or maybe something else…

Whatever he was proposing was clearly unusual, but his tone was so calm that it almost felt like it wasn’t a big deal.

He was smiling, his lips tilted slightly upward, but she couldn’t move. His gaze made her body ache. Fear overshadowed curiosity. Overwhelmed by terror, she shivered involuntarily.

“Looks like someone’s pretty bold coming out swinging, huh? For a second, I almost wavered.”

Was he talking to her or muttering to himself? Though it seemed directed at her initially, it was unclear who the intended recipient was.

He furrowed his brows slightly, looking genuinely troubled, then smiled earnestly.

This guy wasn’t your average psycho.

“Go before I change my mind. Go study, schoolgirl. If things don’t work out, come back then.”

A sixth sense told her that getting involved with this man might cost her dearly—so much so that she wouldn’t be able to return to her normal life. This impact would be irreversible. It wasn’t about pride or begging.

Having finished his useless lecture, the man smirked and turned to walk back into the office. Other men followed him inside like sausages in a line.

What should I do now? She stood blankly on the empty staircase. Leaving like this felt futile after mustering the courage to come this far. The hopes she’d pinned on this encounter felt crushed, like mush splattered on the ground.

Kim Jong-seop must have noticed how desperate I was.

This man thrived on others’ desperation, using it to grow his wealth and expand his organization. Perhaps it was only natural.

He wasn’t the type to sympathetically listen to someone’s desperation. That much was clear.

Song-ah clutched the strap of her bag, dragging it down the stairs.

The friction caused the bag to make a dragging sound, but she lacked the strength to care. Her left pocket buzzed. She took out her phone. After hesitating briefly, she answered.

“What are you doing? Did you finish your errands? Let’s eat.”

“Jin-han Oppa.”

“Isn’t this the number I gave you to call? I’m hungry. You don’t like stuff like intestines, right? I don’t know what pretty girls like.”

“Let’s eat. Rice. I’ll go to school. See you there.”

Damn, she muttered, unable to contain her excitement. Carrying her heavy bag, she boarded the bus heading toward school.

There was nowhere else to go anyway.

She brushed her wind-tousled hair back.

It was still chilly, though spring was approaching. The stubborn cold bloomed like spring flowers. The sunset painted the clouds in watercolor hues. The school, having just held its graduation ceremony, was filled with a somber atmosphere, like the winter wind blowing through it. On some days, she would sit on the school steps for hours, staring at the sky.

Song-ah, who had been sitting with her back to the school, noticed Jin-han approaching and calling her name. As expected, he was still in his school uniform, not having gone home yet. He looked pleased with himself for spotting her immediately and didn’t bother hiding his excitement.

He was on the phone, one hand near his ear.

“Yeah, Uncle. Got it.”

By the time he reached her, he flashed a sly smile. Under the weight of the sunset, his head tilted slightly as he looked at her askew. She realized his gaze was fixed below her eyes, seemingly focusing on a small mole.

“Got it. Yeah.”

The call must have ended, as Jin-han’s grin widened further.

“You’ve got a beauty mark. They say people with beauty marks cry a lot.”

What nonsense was he spouting now? Lost in thought, she stared into his eyes as Jin-han plopped down beside her.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something. What’s your relationship with Yang Chul-woo?”

“Chul-woo. We’ve been in the same school and class since middle school. Like childhood friends. He’s my only friend, actually. Just to clarify, he has a girlfriend—a college engineering student.”

Whether it was the fact that Chul-woo had a girlfriend and she was older, or whether it was reassurance that she harbored no romantic interest in him, his expression brightened with satisfaction.

Nodding approvingly, he seemed pleased with her answer. After the college entrance exam, Chul-woo had bombarded her with angry messages demanding why she hadn’t contacted him. It had taken a lot of effort to calm him down. While they both knew bits about each other’s family situations, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him everything that had happened to her, which was why she had ended up bedridden in the hospital. Eventually, he had cornered her and somehow found out about the hospital.

“What do you feel like eating? I have no idea what girls like you enjoy.”

“I like innards too. Tripe, sundae. Just because I’m pretty doesn’t mean I’m different.”

Jin-han chuckled openly while blatantly staring at her.

“You really talk beautifully. Ah, I just remembered a place. Let’s go. Somehow, I think you’ll like it.”

Deep in an alleyway, the humble bap-sang restaurant wasn’t the kind of place high schoolers typically frequented.

It seemed like the sort of place you’d only find if you already knew about it, and it was clearly a regular spot for Jin-han. The side dishes were clean and well-prepared—not too salty, not bland either. Despite the lack of fancy ingredients, the food tasted special. Achieving great flavor without relying on expensive ingredients is harder than it looks. How did Jin-han discover this place? For a moment, she wondered.

“You haven’t registered for a prep school yet, right? I heard about a decent one.”

“Are you recommending it?”

“Do you think I’d do this just for your benefit? Let’s register together.”

“Oppa, are you retaking the exam too? I thought you said the results hadn’t come out yet…”

“They haven’t. Saying I’m retaking implies I bombed it.”

“…Yeah, seems like it.”

He didn’t strike her as particularly interested in studying. If he valued academics, he wouldn’t have trailed after her like a lost puppy. Yet he brought up the prep school as if he’d been waiting for her to decide. If he’s finally gotten serious, good for him. Then again, it wasn’t really her place to judge.

“You’re not going to do it three times, are you?”

“If you do, I will too.”

“What kind of answer is that?”

“I’ve bent over backward for you. Do you hate that? Women supposedly like it when men act pathetic. What’s fun about that? Right? Damn, you need to be as gentle as me to taste good.”

Something about women being more attracted to bad boys didn’t make sense to her.

“…Oppa, you’re already plenty…”

“Plenty gentle? Do you like it?”

“…Just eat your food.”

His chuckling confirmed her suspicions. Whether he came here to eat or to see her, she appreciated it enough to consider thanking him properly, but ultimately, their meeting felt pointless.

“But you come here often, huh?”

“Yeah, sometimes when I want to drink with my uncle.”

She pushed her half-finished meal around with her spoon before setting it down. She had no appetite. Swallowing felt like an impossible task. Sensing her unease, Jin-han stopped urging her to eat. Instead, he looked apologetic, perhaps worried he was keeping her from resting. She didn’t bother explaining otherwise.

“By the way, speaking of which… uh, Uncle.”

Her head naturally turned toward where Jin-han was waving. Among the familiar faces, there was one she recognized immediately. Orange shirt. The towering figure who had toyed with her mercilessly just hours ago now loomed like a tidal wave. Kim Jong-seop and Choi Si-baek sat comfortably with their companions, seemingly unaware of her presence.

After exchanging a casual wave, Jin-han resumed eating. Everything about the situation felt strangely natural—the greetings, the familiarity. But… uncle?

“The uncle you mentioned earlier…”

“The kids at school were gossiping about it nonstop. With two ears, how could you not know?”

“But calling him ‘uncle’ seems…”

Her mental calculations weren’t adding up. Neither of the two men fit the profile of an “uncle.” Maybe a ten-year age gap? Even that seemed unlikely.

“Not much of an age difference, right? Exactly. My uncle’s the youngest of the late-borns, and my dad had me too early. That’s why no one believes it when I call him ‘uncle.’”

“Which one of them…”

“The tall guy in the orange shirt. Should I introduce you? Better not. Don’t expect anything nice. Avoid eye contact if you can—it depends on the person.”

Her hands trembled. Oblivious to the passage of time, she watched Jin-han finish his meal. Unable to touch her food, she sat bowing her head like she was performing a ritual. Sensing her loss of appetite, he set down his utensils.

“They also serve budae jjigae here. Want some soju? To celebrate Song-ah becoming an adult.”

“I need to go soon.”

“Really? That’s too bad.”

The revelation that Jin-han was related to Kim Jong-seop didn’t faze her. After all, Jin-han was merely someone she owed a favor to, not someone who could shake her to her core. Still, her unease lingered. She couldn’t pinpoint why. Perhaps it was because connecting these two men was outside the realm of her expectations.

Worried Kim Jong-seop might spot her, she hurriedly exited the restaurant and stood under the awning. Dark clouds had replaced the setting sun.

“Just a moment.”

Jin-han excused himself to greet his uncle inside, leaving her to wait outside.

She had heard rumors that his uncle was part of Moon Sung’s organization, but she assumed he was just a low-ranking member—not Kim Jong-seop himself.

“Sorry. Let’s go.”

They naturally headed toward home. Jin-han walked silently beside her. Though she had countless questions and things to say, her thoughts were tangled like knotted threads, leaving her feeling disoriented.

“So, why were you out so late? Did you meet someone?”

“Just… you know.”

At twenty-one, he acted like someone capable of solving her problems. People say love makes you promise the moon and stars—what couldn’t he do for her? She smiled inwardly. Despite his thuggish swagger, he was unmistakably a young man in love. That’s how he appeared to her.

After bidding farewell to Jin-han, who seemed reluctant to part, she dragged her heavy feet forward.

Inside the elevator, Song-ah pressed her floor number and began contemplating her next move.

She needed to find a new place to live. Once settled, she’d have to leave quickly without alerting Yoon Hyung-woo.

The first plan had failed, but that didn’t mean she could delay the next step.

At the front door, she entered the passcode and removed her shoes. The sound from inside hit her like a punch to the chest. Familiar deck shoes. The same ones that man had worn yesterday. Yoon Hyung-woo’s longtime lover and closest companion. The man who had nearly killed her during her freshman winter break.

‘Get your hands off me.’

‘Why? Gonna tell your grandpa? Go ahead. Let’s see who dies first—you or me.’

‘Don’t touch me. Let go! You crazy bastard!’

Shaking off his hand, she ran blindly through unfamiliar alleys, her bare toes sinking into slushy sleet. That night, she wished her lungs would collapse and her heart would burst, erasing her existence entirely. Suddenly, she collided with a car at the end of the alley. Her bleeding soles left vivid red stains on the icy ground. She barely felt the pain from the impact, staring numbly at the driver’s black shoes and her own gray feet.

The swelling hatred consumed her whole. Before learning about relationships, she understood what men were. Before learning how to share emotions, she learned about rough sex. It was because of her sole remaining housemate after her father’s death.

‘Grandpa… you know, Lee Sang-heon keeps touching me. I told him to stop, but…’

When she naively confessed this to Yoon Hyung-woo once:

‘You little brat, already seducing men.’

She became the shameless girl lusting after her grandfather’s lover.

Slapped across the face, she tumbled to the floor. That night, she clutched her stomach after bruising it on the edge of a drawer. Listening to the moans of two men having sex in the room, she vowed to sever this wretched connection herself when the time came.

Yoon Hyung-woo was overly sensitive about losing the lovers he brought home. He keenly noticed when the men he brought over showed interest in her, and the louder the moans from the bedroom became.

He handed out pocket money like payment for services rendered, sometimes inviting her to join and adding to the pile.

It was clear: Yoon Hyung-woo, holding the purse strings, was the dominant party, while his lovers—and herself—were mere subordinates.

Shaking her head as if to shake off the memories, Song-ah felt them stab at her chest and swirl in her mind. She packed clothes into her suitcase. These were the belongings she had prepared to live in a hotel once she turned twenty, just in case.

This day had been long awaited.

Dumping her things into the gaping suitcase, she dragged it out of the apartment, its wheels clattering noisily.

Her white wrist peeked out from the unevenly rolled-up jacket sleeve. The hastily tied white scarf fell to the ground, but she paid no mind, walking on. Without hesitation, she discarded the dirt-streaked scarf.

Jin-han was still there, smoking crookedly. His surprised expression mirrored her own shock—how could she emerge with packed bags so soon after entering? Yet he didn’t pry, likely guessing something had happened based on their previous encounter at the hospital.

Her twentieth winter was bitter rather than sweet, sorrowful rather than hopeful.