Chapter 30 – Confessions (2)
Tae-jun recalled seeing Hye-seong at one of his meetings with Myeong-je Jin. The boy was a literary sort, having studied Russian literature at university, and was obsessed with Tolstoy. The author’s emphasis on mercy, pacifism, and self-control probably had made him resent and shun his father’s work at one point. Not that he had managed to escape the path that his father had taken.
You can’t run from your bloodline. Tae-jun saw his own reflection on the glass cupboard in the hallway. Perhaps this applied to him as well. Not being able to avoid his father’s fate, of letting women drive him insane.
He wiped the smirk off his face and walked into the living room, where a pale, skinny man was sitting with an anxious look on his face.
Seeing Tae-jun, the man bounded up from his seat. “Tae-jun Seo! It was you who dragged me here?”
Tae-jun spotted ‘relief’ in the sea of emotions wavering in the man’s eyes. Relief? How funny.
“So I’m guessing that there are others who are trying to find you.”
Hye-seong flinched, as if Tae-jun had read his thoughts. But he soon began bluffing. “That’s none of your business. So, why were you looking for me?”
Instead of replying, Tae-jun sat on the sofa across the room from Hye-seong. Jin-wook ordered his men to leave the room and closed the door. Hye-seong glanced at Jin-wook, who was standing at the door, and Tae-jun, who was seated in front of him. He awkwardly sat himself back down. Tae-jun sized him up from head to toe. He was much thinner than Tae-jun had remembered, somehow radiating a precarious atmosphere.
He did change a bit, Tae-jun thought to himself. Hye-seong Jin had always had a rather weak look about him. But looks really must not be everything, given the magnitude of what he had done, daring to sell a stand-in to Tae-jun.
Hye-seong began with an uneasy face, “Mr. Seo, I can’t think of a reason for us to meet like this.”
“Are you sure?” Tae-jun scoffed, bringing a cigarette to his mouth. He had instructed Jin-wook to simply bring Hye-seong here, and not to provide any explanation.
Hye-seong still pretended not to know anything, “My sister is dead, and Jin-seong Construction went bankrupt. And you took away all that was left of the company. So what more do you want from me?”
“Hye-yeon was dead, which meant that there was no reason for me to be lenient with Jin-seong Construction, right?” Tae-jun exhaled a long trail of cigarette smoke. Unable to understand, Hye-seong furrowed his eyebrows.
“Who was that girl?” A sudden question, intermingled with the gray smoke.
“What girl?” Hye-seong was not getting it, as if the smoke had slowed down his brain.
“The girl that you and your father sold to me. I know she wasn’t your sister.”
“What…what the hell do you mean?” Hye-seong asked, his countenance turning blue.
With a crashing sound, Tae-jun violently kicked the table. Hye-seong recoiled in surprise.
“The fact that I’m sitting here with you means that I know everything. You’d better not try to trick me again. If I had my way, I would skin you alive.”
“…”
“Let’s try this again. Who was this Yuri Han?” It was difficult for Hye-seong to fathom why Tae-jun was asking this, when he apparently knew everything already. But it was also difficult not to answer. Without any choice, he began, “…the chauffeur’s daughter. My sister’s friend.”
“And?”
“And what? I just told you.”
“What you gave her in return for standing in for your sister.”
Hye-seong closed his mouth. Tae-jun slowly put out the cigarette against the ashtray.
“I’m asking you again. What did you give her in return?”
“Why would you…”
“Do you need some help remembering?” Tae-jun signaled to Jin-wook, who put his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket, flashing a handgun.
How could someone carry something like that here, in South Korea? This isn’t the US, or Russia. Then Hye-seong remembered that Seo-in Holdings was a weapons company that produced firearms. They were the first to create the first privately sponsored shooting team, and each year they donated a considerable amount of money to the shooting sport federation.
And the man sitting in front of him was a noted marksman, who had won a gold medal at the Asian Games. He was the man who had the easiest access to guns in the country.
“Money!” Hye-seong shouted desperately. “Damn it, it was money.”
Hye-seong was confident that he had seen a wide range of people, especially those classified as unsavory, since he was a child. But the energy that was emanating from this man was much more dangerous than he had ever felt from anyone else. It was as if Tae-jun’s entire body was about to produce a cold blade and cut into Hye-seong.
“Money.” This was not the answer that Tae-jun was looking for. He took out another cigarette and tapped the filter against the table. He slowly brought it to his lips and lit.
Tae-jun’s outline became blurry behind the rising smoke. As Hye-seong closed one eye in a grimace, a hand emerged from the smoke and seized him by the collar.