Chapter 1

[Priority Call] Gyeonggi, Yeonghyeon-si, Sinbuk-gu, Hanseong-dong
[Earnings] Cash / Fixed / 264,000 KRW

“Huh?”

Under the hazy light of a waxing moon, Si-woon checked his phone for new driving requests out of habit. A pop-up flashed onto the screen, and he blinked in surprise.

Auto-accepting in 5 seconds.

The countdown was already running. Before he could even read the details properly, he tapped Decline. On any other night, he would have accepted without a second thought, but tonight was different.

A small hand caught his shirt and tugged. “Uncle… where’re you going?”

Si-woon quickly dimmed the screen. Do-gyeom, whom he had thought fast asleep, was rubbing his eyes and peering up at him. “Do-gyeom, did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

“Uncle… are you going home?”

“No, Do-gyeom. Of course not. What are you talking about? We promised to go buy squishies together tomorrow, remember?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Squishies.” Do-gyeom smiled, nestled closer against his side, and let his eyes drift shut again.

“…”

Si-woon stroked his nephew’s back in a slow, gentle rhythm, unable to keep from smiling. A moment later, Do-gyeom was fast asleep once more, a faint grin lingering on his face as though the conversation had never happened. Worn out from their afternoon at the kids’ café, the boy twitched his small hands and feet every now and then even in his sleep.

Watching him with helpless fondness, Si-woon wondered when his nephew had grown so much. It felt like only yesterday that Do-gyeom had been wriggling across the floor, barely able to hold up his own head, and yet next year he would be nine. Even seeing it with his own eyes, Si-woon could hardly believe it. The boy’s fingers, once as tiny and tender as new shoots, had lengthened—though they were no less precious to him now.

Bzz.

Right—the call. His phone flickered once before going dark, reminding him of the request he had brushed aside. No further alerts had come through, which meant the decline must have registered, yet he opened the app just to be certain.

[Priority Call] Gyeonggi, Yeonghyeon-si, Sinbuk-gu, Hanseong-dong
[Earnings] Cash / Fixed / 280,000 KRW

“…?” He was sure he had turned it down. Had his thumb slipped?

It was the exact same request. The pickup point, destination, and payment method remained unchanged; only the fare had climbed by nearly twenty thousand won in the brief moments since he had first looked. Then again, who in their right mind would agree to drive from Naeju to Yeonghyeon at 1:36 in the morning? By his estimate, the round trip would cover some 650 kilometers and take at least six hours, leaving any local driver stranded in the dead of night with no way back.

What should I do?

5, 4, 3…

“Haa…” Watching the countdown race toward zero, Si-woon exhaled slowly. Most drivers avoided punishing long-distance calls at this hour, but for him, the calculation was entirely different.

[Earnings] Cash / Fixed / 280,000 KRW

Two hundred and eighty thousand won. Even after the platform took its cut, it was a painful sum of money to walk away from.

“Hanseong-dong…” Better still—or worse, depending on how one looked at it—the destination was right near his own apartment. A generous fare, a ride that would drop him practically at his doorstep, and ten times the usual bonus points. But I promised. His throat tightened, the guilt catching sharp as a fishbone.

In his memory, Do-gyeom’s delighted voice rang out all over again. “It’s Uncle! Uncle, you’re sleeping over tonight, right?”

Do-gyeom had counted down the days until this visit. From early morning, he had pestered his mother to take him to the bus terminal, and once Si-woon arrived, the boy had chattered nonstop and refused to leave his side. After so long apart, his joy at seeing his uncle had been unmistakable. Now Si-woon was about to break his word. What if he says he never wants to see me again?

Looking down at his sleeping nephew, Si-woon dragged both hands over his tired face. He had used his annual leave expressly to make this trip. Was he really going to slip out before even a full day had passed? It was absurd. Yet the same grim truth confronted him every time—he didn’t control money; money controlled him.

Call assigned.

While he was still hesitating, the screen shifted to the navigation map. Call assigned. The timer had run out and accepted the request automatically. Whether he had meant to take it or not, there was no time to waste now.

“…”

Turning the phone over in his hand, he rose as quietly as he could. When Do-gyeom stirred at the movement, Si-woon tucked a pillow into the boy’s arms and smoothed his tangled hair. He never should have made a promise he might be forced to break. And after I swore I’d play with him all weekend. Having said it so confidently, he felt thoroughly ashamed to be sneaking away in the dark.

He eased the bedroom door shut with a soft click, careful not to wake Do-gyeom, and froze at the quiet voice beside him.

“Leaving?”

“Noona.”

His sister patted his shoulder, the gesture a little awkward but warm. “You’re working too hard.”

“…I think I have to go. A call came in,” Si-woon admitted. They had been through this before. Over the past few years, he had often been pulled away at a moment’s notice, and every time, Ji-woon had come out to see him off.

“Be careful driving at night.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Si-woon lowered his head. He visited so rarely as it was, and now he was leaving without even sitting down for a proper conversation with her.

“What do you have to be sorry for? It’s fine.”

“…”

“If anything, I’m the one who should apologize.” A trace of bitterness entered Ji-woon’s steady voice before she forced it away. “Thank you, Si-woon. Do-gyeom was so happy today.” When she smiled, the shadow vanished from her face. “I only wish you could stay a little longer.”

Managing a faint smile in return, Si-woon slipped a 50,000-won note from his wallet and pressed it into her hand. If he couldn’t keep his promise, he wanted at least to leave Do-gyeom a small consolation.

“Take care.”

His sister waved from the doorway as he stepped out. Once on the street, he immediately messaged the customer he had kept waiting.

—I’ll be there shortly. Thank you for your patience.
—Okay. Take your time.

More time had passed since the assignment than he cared to admit, yet the reply was unexpectedly gracious. Had the client chosen to complain, Si-woon would have had no excuse. That brief message brought a rush of relief.

Unlocking a shared bicycle at the curb, he pushed off and pedaled briskly toward the pickup point. Nice and cool. The crisp night air felt good against his skin; he had always run warm, and the chill helped clear his head. Still, will this go all right? The fare had been too tempting to pass up, but his memories of long-distance rides were far from pleasant. He had dealt with passengers who started cursing the moment he arrived, drunks who vomited in the back seat, and cheapskates who demanded a discount because the journey took too long. There was never any telling what sort of person the next call would bring. It was unfair to judge a client he hadn’t even met, yet he couldn’t quite shake the apprehension that his luck would sour again.

“Ah.”

Only as he coasted to a halt did he realize that his distracted pedaling had already brought him to the pickup point. One man stood alone in the deserted outdoor parking lot; there was no mistaking him for anyone but the passenger. Dismounting quickly, Si-woon hurried over and bowed.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Have you been waiting long? I’m truly sorry.” Years on the job had taught him that an immediate, sincere apology could soften even a difficult client, whereas stiff formality seldom helped.

“N-no, it’s fine. Please, raise your head.” The reply came out thick with embarrassment. Beneath the streetlamp, the man’s hands—lifted in a flustered attempt to wave off the bow—were bright red from the chill.

“Ah…” Si-woon let out a quiet breath. He had pedaled as fast as he could, but he had lost far too much time hesitating at his sister’s apartment. “Please, get inside where it’s warm.” He had apologized enough; the priority now was getting the passenger out of the wind. They could sort out the rest once they were in the car.

Opening the rear door, Si-woon held it wide and waited.

“Ah, excuse me—” the man began.

Only when Si-woon looked squarely at his passenger did he wonder if he had overdone the courtesy. As their eyes met, the man looked painfully ill at ease, and Si-woon straightened at once. Some clients complained if a driver failed to open the door for them, and tonight, guilt had prompted him to do it without thinking.

“Would it be all right if I sat in the front passenger seat?” the man ventured.

“…Yes, please sit wherever you’re comfortable.”

No sooner had Si-woon agreed than the man reached out and pulled open the front passenger door himself, moving almost as if he feared Si-woon might rush over to open that one for him, too. Scratching the back of his neck, Si-woon cleared his throat. He hadn’t committed any great blunder, yet he felt foolish all the same.

“Ahem. We’ll get going, then.” Trying to put the awkward exchange behind them, he slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “We’re heading to Hanseong-dong in Yeonghyeon-si, correct?”

“Yes.”

Finding that their builds were similar enough that the seat needed no adjustment, Si-woon felt a small, absurd flash of satisfaction before settling into silence.

* * *

He’s quiet, Je-hee thought, watching the driver’s profile in the passing highway lights.

The man had barely spoken a word since they set out. Quiet drivers were hardly unusual, of course, but this one seemed to have elevated silence to a principle. They were already well onto the expressway with two rest areas behind them, and not once had the man asked whether he needed a break. Impressive stamina. Then again, he had asked a single question near the start of the drive.

“Would it be all right if I turned on the heater?”