Small and Fragile Things - Chapter 67

Moon Heesok’s despair didn’t stop Soohwan from speaking.

“I still remember, when my mom finally came back after such a long time, but my little sibling wasn’t there. I was so disappointed. I was just a child, but even then, I could tell I shouldn’t ask. I just knew.”

“You… You kept that inside all this time and never said anything…?”

“I was afraid it might hurt you. Or maybe I thought my memory was wrong, so I let it go.”

“Oh, heavens…”

“But all this time, you really kept that child hidden, raised them in secret? Why? Why would you do that!”

Her sobs filled the hospital room, heavy and suffocating.

“That really was my sibling…”

Kim Deok-gyu, who had been staring at his son with a frozen expression, finally spoke.

“My child is only you. That is the only truth you must know, the only truth we must protect. Even if I die, that will never change.”

It was an admission and a denial at the same time. The faintest sliver of hope vanished from Soohwan’s eyes. He staggered.

“…Damn it.”

Her words—her grief, her anger—he could no longer deny they were real. And with it came the realization that the doubts he had ignored all his life were questions that should have been asked.

“Then… I really did… steal my sibling’s life…”

“Soohwan… I’m sorry. I was terrified, I…”

“Enough. Stop! It’s disgusting.”

Heesook crumpled, but Kim Deok-gyu caught her and roared in thunder.

“Disgusting? Everything was done to save you. Nothing was more important than saving you. Nothing is more important even now!”

“Spare me those filthy excuses. They make me sick.”

“I have no regrets. If I had to go back, I’d make the same choice. One day, when you’re a parent, you’ll understand. Please, don’t do this, for your mother’s sake.”

A bitter laugh escaped Soohwan, but his face was already drowned in despair. It wasn’t something their excuses could wash away. Self-loathing and guilt that would never leave.

“You call this saving me? Living with something stolen from my sibling’s body inside me—this is life? You cut their time short just to extend mine! And you’re proud of that? You’ve turned me into a monster!”

The sharp slap left a red mark burning across his cheek. He shoved his mother away and ripped the IV needle from his arm. Before storming out of the hospital room, he threw one last cold sentence.

“From now on, I’ll consider myself an orphan. I’ll never see you again.”

***

He had lost Irang.

As if she had vanished into thin air, she was simply gone, and Muk-hyun was quietly going mad.

“P-please, Director… I beg you—aaagh!”

Bl00d splattered onto the purple carpet, redder than the carpet itself.

The naked man, kneeling, thrashed in agony as if his flesh were being peeled away. His limbs convulsed, his body broken. The men restraining him, the ones watching—it was a grotesque scene that made even them grimace.

But Muk-hyun’s face remained calm. Even as the man screamed, even as it was by his own hand that the screams were torn out, he was composed, indifferent. As though he were pressing piano keys, he bent bones, each motion precise, almost mechanical.

“I-I was wrong! Please! I was—aaagh!”

“I hope you’re the last one, Jincheol.”

His voice was terrifyingly quiet. Still, that calm was worse than any rage. Like a bottomless abyss, his expression betrayed nothing, and it froze everyone who met his gaze. Was he even human anymore?

“Tell Chief Gu this: he’s had more than enough warnings. Now, it’s time to pay.”

“Y-yes! I’ll deliver the message, I swear—”

“Good. Thank you.”

The man’s eyes lit with fragile hope. But Muk-hyun reached out his hand, someone passed him a blade. The kneeling man shook his head violently.

“N-no… please, no! Spare me, just once—!”

Muk-hyun’s eyes didn’t so much as blink.

“I can’t leave loose ends.”

Even his voice, neither raised nor lowered, was quiet—gentle, almost.

“No! I’ll never betray you! Never—aaagh!”

The blade sank. His scream, muffled, tore through the room like something dying.

By the time his body finally went limp, collapsing into unconsciousness, Muk-hyun’s face briefly twisted in faint disgust. But it vanished just as quickly. His expression returned to cold stone as he let the man drop and stripped off his bl00d-soaked gloves.

“Clean it up.”

He straightened and walked out, Jung Yoon following.

***

Only days ago, Jung Yoon and Jung-pal had been released, all charges cleared. Inspector Oh Jiseok had sided with Muk-hyun, exposing Gu’s fabrications with damning evidence. And now, free again, they found themselves closest to this storm.

From behind, Jung Yoon glanced at the cigarette pack in his inner pocket. He wanted to offer one. Anything to break this air. Instead, he bit his lip, watching Muk-hyun’s profile—his cheek speckled with droplets of bl00d, his collar and sleeve stained red.

This was the man he had once vowed to leave behind. Yet here he was again, dragged back into the darkness.

“…You really mean to go through with this?”

“I have to. Call Cha and tell him to move.”

“Yes, sir.”

This was Gu’s doing. Even locked up, he had sent men after Muk-hyun every single day, knives at his throat without end.

One attempt was never repeated by a man like Gu. His persistence meant his fury was deep. Like a spoiled child, he kept lashing out, until Muk-hyun’s patience ended. And now, no one would dare follow his orders. Not with Muk-hyun’s shadow looming. Not when the only outcome would be ruin.

“Make sure he doesn’t die easy. Let him live and suffer.”

“…Understood.”

Gu’s end was sealed.

Jung Yoon had his own hatred for Gu, but strangely, there was no satisfaction.

***

“And—just now. Choi Jihyun left on the 2 p.m. flight. Assigned to oversee the Malaysia resort project.”

“…Put out the drug story when the time’s right. And for the Hanmin Daily meeting, you go in my place.”

“You’re sure that’s wise?”

“They’ll understand the message. Nothing more needs saying.”

Choi’s empire was crumbling. His money nearly drained, his wife pulling every string she had, even using up every last connection. He was desperate to cement a union with Hanmin.

But Muk-hyun had other plans. The dirt he had collected on the Choi family would be delivered straight to Hanmin. And then Hanmin would have to choose: Carry the stench of garbage or throw it away and find a better match.

No fool would choose the former. When Choi finally collapsed under the weight of his own schemes, even prosecutors would start sniffing at the rot. And eventually, they’d find Muk-hyun’s fingerprints all over it.

But by then, what could Choi Jung-do do?

***

“What about Kim Deok-gyu?”

“Routine. Just the prosecution office and the hospital. He hasn’t strayed from those two.”

Moon Heesook was still hospitalized. Some unknown illness, but serious enough to keep her bedridden for weeks. And Deok-gyu was splitting his time between work and her bedside.

“As for that club we discussed, we’ve begun. The Prosecutor General is sharp, so it’ll take time to get close without raising suspicion.”

“Good.”

Everything Muk-hyun had prepared for years was finally coming to light. But the man who should have felt triumph, looked only darker, thinner, and more burdened.