Small and Fragile Things - Chapter 1

Don’t give your heart to small and fragile things.

Things that break so easily will only end up hurting you.

***

Gray cigarette smoke drifted into the air, carried away by a heavy sigh. With a sharp flick, the cigarette butt hit the ground and was crushed under a polished shoe. The man, leaning against a pitch-black sedan, finally pushed himself away and started walking.

It was just before midnight when he stepped inside an unmarked building. He rode the elevator down to the basement — a place that opened its doors only to those who were allowed to know it existed. He crossed the threshold without a hint of emotion on his face.

He walked down the silent, empty hallway at an unhurried pace, as if he had all the time in the world. He ran a hand over the back of his neatly cropped hair, brushed off his shoulders — a motion almost like an athlete shaking out tension before stepping into the arena.

At the end of the hallway, a wall that looked solid slid open without a sound. Inside was a huge, empty room. The lights were low, and sad music from a bandoneon filled the space, making it feel dark and heavy.

In the center was a single table, with three chairs. One of them was waiting for him.

“Choi Muk-hyun.”

A woman, already seated, exhaled smoke through bright red lips.

“You’re late. Why do you always make people wait?”

Choi Ji-hyun, president of Samun Hotel, wore a dazzling dress that matched her stunning looks.

“There’s a lot to take care of here and there. Of course you’re busy. Come on, sit down.”

Sitting across from her was Choi Il-hyun. He was the group’s vice chairman and the eldest son of Chairman Choi. Though he was the oldest among the people here, he looked the youngest.

“You’re working late. If you need anything, just say so anytime.”

Unlike Ji-hyun’s sharp tone, Il-hyun’s words and actions were calm and plain. He pushed over his empty glass and the bottle he’d been drinking from. The gesture didn’t feel fake — just natural. Maybe it was the ease of someone who already had everything.

Ji-hyun scoffed. “Oppa, really… is he the only one who’s busy? Who here isn’t busy?”

Muk-hyun sat down, undoing a button on his suit jacket. He checked the label on the bottle, then tipped it over to fill his glass to the brim. He emptied it in one shot. Then he filled it again. And emptied it again. And again, he filled the glass.

Seeing him drink the strong liquor straight like that — when people usually watered it down — Ji-hyun frowned.

“If you’re late, shouldn’t you at least apologize?”

This time, there was no smile in her voice. She didn’t even put the cigarette to her lips anymore.

“Consider it done.” Muk-hyun answered, not even looking at her.

Ji-hyun just shook her head, fed up with his attitude. Choi Muk-hyun was always like this. He had a way of making people feel uneasy and annoyed. Whether you were talking, eating, or just sharing the same room, it never felt like you were truly with him. It was always like talking to a wall — like you were the only one putting in any effort. And there was no way that could feel good.

Choi Ji-hyun crushed out her cigarette, making it clear she was annoyed.

“Whatever. Forget it.”

Choi Muk-hyun was Samun’s shadow. From the beginning, he’d been nothing like his half-siblings who shared his last name. While they calmly walked their path as heirs, Muk-hyun was thrown into the field when he was still just a kid.

By the time they were getting groomed as successors and learning how to run the company, he was already buried deep in the dark, known as Chairman Choi’s knife. Fights over construction sites, union talks, lobbying, business bids, redevelopment payouts, bankruptcy clean-ups — all the dirty, headache-inducing jobs were always left to him. And he always got them done.

He was also the one who cleaned up all the Choi family’s private messes. Samun’s cleaner, the mad dog — that was the name stuck to him.

“But anyway… is it true? You really said you’d walk away?” Ji-hyun said, testing him. Choi Il-hyun, acting like he didn’t care, leaned in to hear better.

“What, why? You even did time for the family, and now you’re just gonna leave?”

“Father said he’ll make it up to you for everything you did. Go take a few days off somewhere.”

“It’s not just a break — they say you’re leaving for good. So who’s gonna handle your mess now? Chief Jung?”

“Come on. You really think you can just disappear? Father told you to rest, not run away.”

Muk-hyun had been sitting there silent, listening. He finally lifted his head, but didn’t really give them an answer. He just raised his eyebrows a little, like it didn’t matter.

“Who knows?”

He looked like he couldn’t be bothered with any of it. That lazy, half-drowsy look, but not a single gap in his guard. Maybe it was the straight liquor he’d just downed one glass after another — but really, they’d never seen any other side of Choi Muk-hyun.

“It’s late anyway. How about we actually get to work now?”

His dry, half-hearted reply made the siblings both let out the same bitter smile. Taking that as agreement, Muk-hyun pulled out his phone.

“Bring him in.”

It wasn’t long before the door opened and three men came in. The moment they showed up, Choi Ji-hyun’s pretty eyebrows twisted in a frown, and Choi Il-hyun pulled out a handkerchief to cover his mouth. The sharp, metallic smell spread through the room in seconds.

“Director.”

One of the men, holding up a man soaked in bl00d between them, gave Muk-hyun a short bow. It was Chief Jung.

“Did you really have to go this far?”

Choi Ji-hyun’s hands moved quickly as she pulled a fresh cigarette from her silver case. She didn’t say more, but Choi Il-hyun’s face showed the same clear distaste.

Muk-hyun, though, was different. The blank look he’d worn before melted into a smile, and his pitch-black eyes started to shine like polished glass.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know exactly what you were handing over to me.”

At that, Choi Ji-hyun flinched like she’d been pricked with a needle.

“Hey, watch your mouth. Say it like that and people’ll think I told you to do it!”

There was no pity at all in Choi Ji-hyun’s sharp reply — not for the half-dead man on the floor. All she felt was the disgust of having to put up with something that stank.

“Wasn’t it?”

“So what? It’s done, right? Just bring the result, that’s all we need — the result.”

“He’s right there.”

“That’s the process, not the result!”

Muk-hyun gave a small nod, and Chief Jung let go of the man he’d been holding up and stepped forward to set a phone down on the table. An audio file played — a full confession about the man’s corruption, every detail spelled out in his own voice.

Muk-hyun didn’t even glance at the phone. He just stared at the man sprawled on the floor, slowly drinking his glass of whiskey to the last drop.

“H-help… please, please don’t—”

The man’s words broke into a wheeze. The moment their eyes met, he flinched like he’d seen a ghost, shaking all over. Muk-hyun just watched him calmly, like he was admiring a painting.

Even the ragged, rattling sound in the man’s breath made it clear he was in bad shape. But Muk-hyun’s eyes still looked like someone who hadn’t had enough — hungry for more.

“…That’s all,” Chief Jung said, finishing his report without a single extra word.

The siblings stood up at once, as if they’d both been waiting for the end.

“Good work. Send me that file right away — I need to pass it to Lawyer Kim.”

“And don’t bring something like that here next time. Got it?”

Their attitude toward the man who did their dirty work was as rude and selfish as ever. But Muk-hyun didn’t care — not in the slightest.

“Chief Jung.”

While watching the siblings shamelessly walk away without a backward glance, Jung Yoon spotted Muk-hyun standing over the man on the floor. Muk-hyun tapped the groaning man lightly with his fingertips, a childlike smile hanging on his lips.

Well— childlike might not be quite right. It was the pure, cruel smile you’d see on a kid crushing an ant out of simple curiosity.

“I cleaned this up pretty neatly, didn’t I? But they never appreciate it. Makes me feel a bit hurt.”

“…Not at all, sir.”

“They’re all talk but scare easy — you know how it is. Just let it go.”

Muk-hyun’s tone was oddly friendly, almost warm, and Chief Jung couldn’t help but let a small smile slip. But then something came to mind, and his brow creased.

“Gu Chief just called.”

Gu Chief was Chairman Choi’s closest aide. If he’d reached out, it meant there was an order straight from the top — which usually meant more trouble.

“Now what?”

Muk-hyun crouched next to the man crawling like a bug, pinching the edge of his bl00d-soaked jacket between his fingers.

“He wants you to go to Mujin.”