Small and Fragile Things - Chapter 15

The next day, Choi Muk-hyun was at a high-end Japanese restaurant in Gangnam.

Unlike the main hall, where guests could enjoy the calm atmosphere while listening to the gentle trickle of water through a shishiodoshi, the tatami rooms were tucked away behind a corridor lined only with bamboo lanterns.

If you weren’t called for, even the staff stayed away — so the space was dead silent, like a place abandoned.

If it hadn’t been for the broad-shouldered men standing guard here and there, you’d think there wasn’t a single customer inside.

When the door finally opened, the men standing like sentries all bowed in perfect unison.

The first to step out was a thin man in a gray suit, fiddling nervously with a fedora in his hands — as if he hadn’t gotten the result he’d wanted from whatever was discussed inside that room.

Still, he kept a carefully plastered smile on his face as he turned to the man walking out behind him.

“This really bothers me, you know. I just feel like I should do something for our director before you go…”

The man who followed him out was Muk-hyun.

Dressed head to toe in a jet-black suit, hair slicked back in his usual neat style — the look he always kept when he worked. It made people feel small, sure, but it also drew them in.

That was clear from the way all those big men along the corridor couldn’t take their eyes off him. Beneath their stiff posture, they brimmed with a quiet mix of tension, curiosity, and a kind of envy.

It was only natural — the man called Choi Muk-hyun looked every inch a kingpin, yet he was technically just a corporate executive. The grandson of a chaebol family, no less. Even if only half the rumors about him were true, he was a living legend — and with looks like that, you couldn’t help but stare, whether you liked him or not.

Muk-hyun himself didn’t care at all for the attention.

“I appreciate the sentiment, sir,” he said calmly.

“But really — if I send you off like this, what will I say to our chairman, huh?”

“Just take care of my replacement. That’s all you need to do.”

“Well, of course, that’s a given but… ah, I really hate letting you go like this.”

They stepped outside under the watchful bows of the staff. Muk-hyun immediately took out a cigarette.

Almost as if he’d been waiting for this moment, the thin man struck a lighter and cupped the flame. He cleared his throat a few times, then shuffled closer, a sly grin on his lips as he mimed something lewd with his fingers.

“Look, Director Choi. I know you always say no. But since this is the last time… how about I give you a proper send-off, huh? Just let me take care of you.”

Muk-hyun didn’t answer right away — he took a long drag, letting the smoke swirl out of his mouth before curling his lips into a cold smile.

“Mr. President.”

“Yeah? So… you interested?”

“These days my secretary’s been scolding me a lot. Says I keep doing things I don’t usually do.”

So was that a yes or a no?

The contractor — a man who’d made good money sneaking into government bids through Muk-hyun’s connections — felt the sweat on the back of his neck. His entire business was growing fast. And now, out of nowhere, the great Choi Muk-hyun was saying he was done.

He’d heard the news with zero warning — of course he was panicking.

He needed time. To check what was really going on. To see if this would mess up his plans for the rest of the year. To find out if there was another reason behind this.

He couldn’t just let go of Choi Muk-hyun like this.

“Hey, come on. A man can’t just live the same way forever, right? You gotta try new things to keep life fresh! Huh? I’ll make sure it’s clean, no strings, no blowback. All you gotta do is enjoy yourself.”

“You haven’t heard the rumors, have you?” Muk-hyun said lightly.

“Huh? What rumors?”

“Ah… maybe people have forgotten since it’s been quiet for a while…”

Only then did the contractor remember the rumors that used to circle drinking tables like ghost stories — about how if you wanted to please Choi Muk-hyun, you did it with money, never with women.

One guy who ignored that rule and tried anyway? Dead the same night, they said. Another ended up half-crippled and paid off the madam a fortune to keep it quiet. Stories like that. Whispers that never really faded.

“Beast of a bastard — must be savage in bed too, huh? Damn brute.”

Muk-hyun’s voice overlapped with that echo in the man’s head, snapping him out of his foolish grin.

“I’m a bit of a beast, you see. People get hurt, Mr. President.”

It didn’t take long for him to realize that Muk-hyun’s half-lidded eyes, exhaling smoke with that lazy look, weren’t smiling at all.

“Ah— r-right. Well, if it really makes Director Choi uncomfortable… nothing I can do, huh?”

“I’ll be heading off now.”

Leaving the man standing there stupefied, Muk-hyun climbed into the waiting car.

The moment he sank into the seat, a long sigh slipped out, carrying the weariness that clung to his bones.

“Jung Yoon, did you eat?”

“Yes, sir. Did you have dinner?”

“That bastard talked so damn much I probably ate half his spit. Just had a bit of soju. Haa… They’ve got their eyes on the Seongwon City redevelopment. Tell them to break ground.”

Jung Yoon frowned and asked if he’d like to grab a proper meal elsewhere, but Muk-hyun just laughed and waved it off.

***

He must’ve dozed off a little. When the car stopped, Muk-hyun woke in a daze, half-floating between sleep and wakefulness.

Jung Yoon seemed to be nagging him about something, but Muk-hyun didn’t really listen. He only registered that they hadn’t gone to Seon-Idong like usual — they’d come to one of his other places instead.

He trudged along in silence, a crooked grin tugging at his lips at how tipsy he felt. Maybe it was the relief of finally deciding to wrap things up. Or maybe he was just getting old. Either way, he didn’t mind. If he really did finish it all, maybe living drunk and careless like this wouldn’t be so bad.

But that idle thought shattered the moment he stepped inside the house.

Someone was there.

Muk-hyun tensed in an instant, only to exhale and shake his head when he remembered.

Of course. He’d told them to bring her here. And then promptly forgotten. That must’ve been what Jung Yoon was muttering about earlier. He let out a breath of laughter, half amused at himself for forgetting so completely in just a day.

“Why are the lights off?”

He flicked a switch, flooding the house with warm light.

Standing dead center in the living room, staring at him, was Irang — wearing a t-shirt printed with a rose and a skull. She looked startled, like a deer caught out in the open.

“This is your house?” she asked softly.

For some reason, an urge to wrap his arms around her surged up, hot and reckless. Maybe he really was drunk.

This was his favorite place out of all his hideouts.

To Muk-hyun, this was more than just another apartment.

Long ago — back when he’d roamed the country as the Chairman’s hound, crossing every line a man shouldn’t cross, living every day covered in bl00d and the stink of iron — somewhere in that blur of nights, he’d fallen into a darkness even he hadn’t seen coming. They’d called him an animal in a man’s skin — and he hadn’t denied it.

Most nights, he’d either find himself sitting on a riverbank or standing on some rooftop, staring down at the city like a ghost. Then, on a whim, he’d bought this place.

It was the first time he’d ever spent that hoarded pile of money on himself, not the Chairman. It was where he’d brought his mother’s urn — the only place he’d ever let himself admit he needed roots.

This was the only place he thought of as an actual home.

A place where he could drop the trash that was Choi Muk-hyun, even if just for a moment — and exist as just a man.

And now, she was here — in this place.

A girl wearing the same hollow look he’d once worn. Or maybe even worse.

A broken corner of a soul you could almost hear cracking. The stale scent of someone who’d killed and re-killed any scrap of hope that dared sprout inside. A void that couldn’t be faked — that emptiness was what made him look at her and feel… something.

“Yeah. It’s my house.”

Muk-hyun walked right past Irang and sank into the sofa.

The light from the ceiling washed over her pale face — her eyes were red, like she’d been crying.

“Why’d you go all rabbit on me again?”

From the moment he’d laid eyes on her, every nerve in him felt raw and exposed, like stripped wire. He didn’t have the patience to wait for her lips to open on their own — so he pulled out a cigarette instead.

“Irang.”

He took a long drag, let the smoke drift out, and spoke the name he’d given her. It rolled off his tongue like candy.