RB - 50

Chapter 50: The Opportunity to Launder Friendship

At 2 a.m., Seo-yeon suddenly opened her eyes and turned on the bedside lamp.

There were countless reasons why her mind was so clear at this hour when she should have been deep in sleep.

The pile of tasks waiting for her return to the office, the dirty rumors stemming from the illicit affair between Manager Kim of the finance team and Ko Myeong-soo, the absurd contract-based relationship with Shin Jung-hyuk... No, what was even more absurd was her own weakness—her growing feelings for Jung-hyuk. His increasingly infrequent messages weighed heavily on her heart.

A long sigh escaped her lips as she muttered to herself.

“Well, there’s that saying about resting after falling down. All I’ve got is my sturdy body—I need to take care of it.”

When was the last time she had truly rested during a vacation? She had worked overtime like it was second nature. Seo-yeon had no words to justify her body’s rebellion. Resolving to focus solely on recovery, she stared at the ceiling. The clean white expanse of the VIP room’s ceiling was starting to feel familiar.

Her eyelids began to droop, and soon she drifted into a deep sleep, the orange glow of the bedside lamp still illuminating the room.

But her peaceful slumber didn’t last long. Just a few hours later, Seo-yeon woke up irritably, twisting her body as her alarm buzzed every five minutes.

An alarm persistently ringing even while hospitalized—wasn’t she the epitome of burning ambition? Exhausted from her restless night, she felt the weight of morning pressing down on her. Overwhelmed by lethargy, she dragged herself out of bed and chuckled bitterly.

What interrupted Seo-yeon’s torment was the unexpected visit of Ji-min, a friend from her orphanage days. Sometimes, life throws you a curveball, creating opportunities for reconciliation with old friends—and today was one of those days.

“Wow, you don’t look too sick to me?”

Instead of a greeting, Ji-min tossed an eco-bag onto the bed. Reflexively catching it, Seo-yeon shot back,

“Do I look like I’m wearing hospital clothes for fun? Is that something you say when visiting someone in the hospital?”

Ji-min, dressed in a bright floral dress, pouted as she unfolded a meal tray.

“Eat up. It’s acorn cold soup—you love it.”

Seo-yeon gave Ji-min an incredulous look. Last night, Ji-min had suddenly contacted her, saying she wanted to meet. Now, seeing that she had brought acorn cold soup all the way to the hospital, Seo-yeon realized Ji-min was truly a friend.

Stirring the soup with her spoon, Seo-yeon took a bite and asked,

“It’s delicious. You didn’t make this, did you?”

“Of course not! It’s the work of the orphanage nutritionist—it was yesterday’s school lunch menu. You’re just getting the leftovers.”

Ji-min popped open a can of soda and continued nonchalantly,

“This is a VIP room… quite different from the tiny rooms we used to live in. Looks like you’ve made it, Han Seo-yeon. Did you snag a rich boyfriend or something?”

Seo-yeon slammed her spoon onto the tray and glared at Ji-min.

“Enough, please stop.”

“What’s with the attitude? What did I do wrong?”

“Stop teasing me! You came because you were worried, right? Admit it and be nice. I’m a patient.”

Ji-min pouted again, visibly flustered. While concern for Seo-yeon’s health was genuine, a complicated mix of emotions bubbled up inside her—jealousy, resentment, guilt—all difficult to define.

“Hey! I didn’t come because I was worried. I came to tell you something—to give you some emotional turmoil on purpose!”

“I’m already drowning in emotional turmoil without your help. But since you’re here, go ahead. What do you want to tell me?”

Seo-yeon’s voice trailed off, weary like an old woman who had lived through everything. Ji-min tilted her head, hesitating. Seo-yeon seemed worse off than expected—should she really share this?

Reading Ji-min’s hesitation, Seo-yeon smirked and urged her on.

“Hey! Don’t just drop hints and stay silent—that drives people crazy. I’m curious, so hurry up and tell me.”

After much deliberation, Ji-min finally spoke.

“It’s about the director of the orphanage, related to the Roots Foundation… There’s something you need to know. If I don’t tell you, I’ll feel guilty.”

Seo-yeon’s face darkened significantly, but Ji-min couldn’t stop now that she’d started.

“Don’t be too shocked. Remember last time when you visited the orphanage? The director’s reaction was strange—he got angry for no reason.”

“Yeah, that’s right. He seemed to be avoiding me.”

Ji-min swallowed hard and continued with a deep sigh.

“But yesterday, I overheard the director on the phone. It sounded like he was talking to the Roots Foundation… Did you recently submit more documents?”

“Yes, I submitted them directly to the foundation and followed up, telling them to do their job properly.”

“Hmm… He asked them to cancel everything, specifically saying, ‘Seo-yeon seems confused and has changed her mind, so let’s pretend this never happened.’”

Despair and confusion clouded Seo-yeon’s face. Her trembling shoulders betrayed her shock, and Ji-min quickly covered her with a blanket.

“You must be so surprised. I thought you needed to know… Last year, I also submitted documents to the Roots Foundation. Back then, the director helped me a lot—even accompanied me on trips to the countryside on weekends.”

“...Why? Why is he doing this to me? I don’t understand, Ji-min.”

“I don’t get it either. Everyone at the orphanage knows how much the director favored you.”

Ji-min awkwardly patted Seo-yeon’s shoulder. Then, with a sudden realization, she exclaimed,

“Wait! This might be it. I’ve worked in the orphanage administration office for five years. Some birth parents refuse to meet their children left at the orphanage.”

“My parents are refusing to meet me?”

“It’s possible, assuming the director has already been in contact with your parents.”

Seo-yeon felt as if someone had ripped out her heart and squeezed it dry. Trembling from the cruel sensation, she sat in silence as Ji-min joined her. Both stared blankly at the half-finished bowl of acorn cold soup.

Buzzzzz. A loud vibration startled them. Ji-min checked the caller ID and gasped, placing a finger over her lips to signal silence before answering.

“Yes, Director, it’s Ji-min.”

Glancing at Seo-yeon, Ji-min stepped into the bathroom, closing the door carefully behind her.

“Director, I took the day off today. I’m in town running errands. Is something wrong?”

A few minutes later, Ji-min emerged, visibly shaken, and collapsed into a chair. Concerned, Seo-yeon asked,

“What’s wrong? Did the director scold you? Your expression looks terrible.”

Taking a deep breath, Ji-min steadied herself and spoke firmly.

“Do you remember? A while back, when you visited the orphanage, you were writing a letter to Mrs. Park Yeo-wan.”

“Of course I remember. I didn’t even finish it—the director suddenly got angry.”

“I think there’s something between you and Park Yeo-wan. It doesn’t make sense, but… do you know what the director just told me on the phone?”

Seo-yeon remained silent, stunned. Ji-min locked eyes with her and continued.

“He ordered me to destroy all records of Park Yeo-wan’s donations. And… if you ask about Park Yeo-wan, I’m supposed to say I know nothing, then report back to him immediately.”

Seo-yeon felt as though the director, whom she had known for so long, had become a stranger. Anger, confusion, and despair swirled chaotically in her mind, paralyzing her thoughts. Her usual calm and sharp demeanor had vanished.

I need to pull myself together. The only person who can protect me is me. Wake up!

Slap! Seo-yeon struck her own cheek to snap out of it. Startled, Ji-min grabbed her arm and shouted,

“Hey! Are you crazy? Why are you hurting yourself?”

Seo-yeon grabbed Ji-min’s collar and growled fiercely,

“You need to help me. Remember that debt you owe me from high school? This is your chance to repay it. I’ll give you the opportunity.”

The debt from high school—guilt immediately welled up in Ji-min’s eyes.

After rumors spread throughout the school that Shin Jung-hyuk was in a “betting romance” with Han Seo-yeon, Seo-yeon’s nickname became “Money-Loving Han Seo-yeon.” Feeling inferior to Seo-yeon, Ji-min had left a note in the faculty office:

“Grade 2 student Han Seo-yeon is accepting money to complete her classmates’ performance evaluations for them. Ask anyone—her nickname is ‘Money-Loving Han Seo-yeon’ for a reason.”

As a result, Seo-yeon had withdrawn from school, effectively ending her education. Ji-min hadn’t anticipated that Seo-yeon would leave school entirely—she had merely wanted to humiliate her. The guilt of ruining her friend’s life haunted Ji-min for years. Though immature, Ji-min wasn’t a demon.