Small and Fragile Things - Chapter 50

A life that doesn’t feel like living… a life where I can’t even die on my own terms— I’m never going back to that. Ever again. But I didn’t even have the strength to get up.

Only one person came to mind, but I had no way to reach him. I didn’t know how. I’d only just learned to read. There was still so much I didn’t know.

“Stupid…”

I thought I had more time. That if I learned a little more, could do a little more on my own, maybe—just maybe—I’d become normal, like everyone else. Was that too greedy? Is that why everything’s gone to hell like this?

Maybe the people who vanished overnight… maybe that was my fault too. Maybe they realized I wasn’t like the others, and that’s why they left.

Accept your fate, Illy.

It was unfair, infuriating… but a tiny voice whispered that maybe, this really was the end of the road for me.

It’s time to give up, isn’t it?

I was already slipping into resignation, the way I always did, when—at the far end of the road—a white car appeared.

“…Please…”

The last time I’d been in a car with Muk-hyun, it had been black. But still, I prayed with everything I had.

Let it be him. Or at least, let it take me to him.

And then—like a miracle—the car stopped.

***

Kim Deok-gyu’s son, Kim Soohwan, was a diligent, hardworking CEO. When he decided his fashion brand had finally hit its stride, he didn’t settle for success—he moved quickly to expand into designer furniture and home decor.

“Should we grab a snack before heading back?”

“Ooh, is CEO Kim treating us?”

“Of course.”

The employees, who’d only grabbed a light lunch between meetings with outside vendors, lit up.
They settled into a small cafe selling waffles and coffee, chatting lightly to shake off the day’s tension.

“Sir, are you okay?”

The team leader sitting beside Soohwan asked in a low voice.

“You’ve been looking really tired lately…”

“Really? I guess I am a little tired, but it’s nothing.”

“You’ve looked especially pale the last few days. Your health’s okay, right?”

She was a founding member of the company and knew that Soohwan had spent a long time in the hospital in the past. She checked in on him sometimes—but he never found it particularly welcome. He always ended up thinking she shouldn’t have asked.

“I’m perfectly fine. I’ll just take better care of my handsome face.”

“Your looks are fine as they are—just take care of your health. I’d like to work with you for a long time, you know.”

“Same here. Here, have some waffle, Team Leader.”

“Thanks. Want me to get you a piece?”

“I’m good. I’ll just have my coffee.”

Without showing any sign of annoyance, Soohwan steered the conversation away. He sipped his warm coffee, letting his gaze drift to the easygoing scene outside the window.

The weather was beautiful, and everyone walking down the street seemed to be smiling.
Naturally, his thoughts wandered to his mother, who’d been lying in bed for days.

Does Mom like waffles?

He glanced back at the waffles everyone was enjoying, but felt no desire to eat one. He’d only had a cup of coffee that morning, but still… no appetite.

Yeah… I haven’t been in the mood to eat lately.

He tried to remember the last thing he’d really enjoyed eating. Nothing came to mind. These days, he didn’t want to eat much, and even when he did, he had trouble digesting it. He’d feel bloated and oddly exhausted, as though the act of digesting alone drained him.

A normal person might shrug it off, thinking it would pass—but Soohwan had more reason than most to keep an eye on his health.
It was the duty of someone who’d escaped death more than once with the help of others.

He checked the date of his next medical exam and decided to wait and see until then.

“Man, the weather’s perfect. Days like this are for dating, not working.”

“Shouldn’t you actually have a partner to say something like that?”

“Dating doesn’t have to be with a boyfriend or girlfriend! You can date your mom! Or your dad! Or even Tori!”

With years of practice in dodging worry, Soohwan smoothly slipped into the team’s banter.

“Sure. You could even date your job.”

“Oh, come on, sir. That’s just cruel.”

A smile that drew people in spread across his face.

Maybe I’ll take Mom for a walk around the neighborhood after work. It’s been a while.
He felt a twinge of guilt for neglecting her lately. Maybe he’d stop by the bakery on the corner and ask them to save a loaf of her favorite chestnut bread.

***

“Sir.”

Muk-hyun was the last to arrive at the scene. In the living room, Jung-yoon and Sung-pil were waiting for him—but neither spoke first. Something about the look in his eyes, frozen there in the doorway, stopped them cold.

Still in his shoes, Muk-hyun stepped inside, slowly scanning the place as he lit a cigarette.
His gaze slid over the smashed coffee table, the overturned tool bag, the scattered word cards on the floor.

He drew in a long drag, then exhaled slowly, letting the smoke drift out like a warning. Sometimes a man shouting or throwing things is easier to deal with—this quiet, creeping rage was the kind that drained the bl00d from your face.

Unable to stand the suffocating tension, Sung-pil finally spoke.

“…I’m sorry.”

“Sir, let me explain—”

Jung Yoon started, but a single finger from Muk-hyun cut him off.

“You explain.”

Startled by the low, icy tone, Sung-pil cleared his throat.

“Ahem. They posed as maintenance staff from the building. Said there was a leak downstairs and they had to check right away… There were four of them, all wearing masks, so I didn’t get a good look at their faces.”

“No bl00d.”

The cold reply carried the sting of So you got taken down by just four guys?

“There was no chance to fight back. They used tasers.”

“They tased me, Chul-ho, and even Jung-min who was outside. Since they left us alive, it’s probably not revenge. I’ve already told people to check with Choi’s crew, East Seoul, and Director Tae’s movements—but all quiet. Whoever it was, they’re not the type to come after your place directly. Personally… I think it’s the prosecutor’s office.”

Muk-hyun rubbed at his furrowed brow—then suddenly laughed. The laugh faded into an icy calm, then flared into anger again. His broad chest rose and fell, too fast to be steady.

“Where’s the woman?”

At the blunt question, Sung-pil’s expression said Here it comes. He shook his head.

“She bolted. I blacked out, so I don’t know what happened after.”

“…Sung-pil.”

His voice drifted out through a cloud of smoke—so languid it almost sounded gentle. But the way he flicked his cigarette to the floor was anything but.

“Explain. In detail. I’m not in the mood to ask twice.”

Something about the polite tone made his tongue feel heavy. Sung-pil forced himself to focus and began recounting the events, step by step, head bowed so he wouldn’t have to see the look on Muk-hyun’s face.

“…Then one of them moved toward the sofa. Said he was checking the balcony. The woman was sitting quietly, but then she suddenly startled at something she saw. That guy reached for her, and I blocked him—took him down with an arm lock. But in that split second, she bolted. While I was watching her run, another guy got me from behind with a taser.”

A few seconds of silence passed before Muk-hyun finally spoke.

“What did she see?”

“…Sir?”

“You said she flinched.”

“Oh… Right. Well, that guy had put down his toolbox, taken off his gloves, and touched some kind of thread. Maybe that’s what startled her?”

Muk-hyun let out a faint, humorless laugh.

“She’s not the type to get scared just because Gi-seon’s holding tools.”

“Ah…”

“Did he have scars? On his hands or face? You notice anything?”

“Oh! Yeah—on the back of his hand. A small tattoo. Might’ve been a butterfly… or maybe a bird.”

“….”

Something seemed to click. Muk-hyun’s face twisted, and for a moment, a faint laugh escaped him—though it was hard to tell if it was real.

Not long after, his face went cold again.

“Kim Duk-gyu’s crew. Find them.”

The sky, which had been clear a moment ago, darkened and opened up with rain. Even though it was midday, the heavy clouds made it feel like night. The perfect weather for a stray kitten to freeze to death.