Chapter 18

Late in the afternoon, the underground parking lot of the JCS headquarters was uncharacteristically bustling. The stir was caused by the protocol vehicle of the Chief of Staff of the Army, parked beneath the facility to steer clear of reporters.

In the dim subterranean lot, where stale air hung stifling year-round, sat a sleek black sedan utterly out of place. Not a single speck of dust could be seen on its polished surface.

Having concluded his meetings, General Lee Myung-heon descended to the parking garage trailed by an entourage of staff officers and faced his son. Even with polite flatteries, the father and son could hardly be called close. Yet, however one-sided it was, the patriarch appeared considerably proud of his only son.

General Lee never let a passing word of praise regarding his son go unnoticed. In particular, when the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs offered a compliment, the older general had to exert considerable effort just to keep the proud smirk from creeping onto his lips.

Dismissing his staff officers first, General Lee voiced the thoughts he had privately harbored for some time.

“Once he’s inside the safe house, make him talk,” General Lee commanded bluntly. “Young officers these days pamper the subjects under the banner of human rights and all that nonsense. That’s why those bastards stall for time, thinking they’ll get warm meals and cozy beds without having to do a damn thing.”

General Lee belonged to a generation that regarded anyone crossing the border in uniform as an operative without question. The veteran general could not readily accept that much had changed from the days when conclusions were reached mostly through presumption and coercion.

“Yes, sir,” Shin responded evenly.

For a mere major standing before a four-star general, no reply other than “Yes, sir” could ever exist. In an organization governed strictly by vertical hierarchy, obedience to superior orders was akin to sacred dogma. Shin found it far simpler to treat his father as a superior officer rather than family.

Yet the father, possessing a peculiar affection for his son, abruptly shifted the atmosphere back to family matters.

Adjusting his uniform collar, General Lee inquired, “So, our youngest in-law went to Dongducheon?”

“Yes, sir.”

“A time like this is when he ought to step forward and greet the brass in plain view to make an impression,” General Lee clicked his tongue. “The youngest seems utterly devoid of ambition. Tsk.”

“He will do well on his own without needing to make such impressions, and he is already doing fine,” Shin answered flatly.

Waving a dismissive hand, General Lee scoffed, “I’m telling you this precisely because there is no doubt about Cha’s competence. In a place like the Joint Chiefs, ability is a given. You need something more than just ability.”

Shin offered no response to his father’s lecture. Who couldn’t see through this? It was hardly complicated to grasp what his father was driving at.

Aside from General Lee’s voice, the parking structure was dead silent. As though people had caught wind and steered clear in advance, not a single vehicle entered or exited, lending the deserted space an eerie stillness.

“Why are you refusing to see that woman from the other day again?” General Lee pressed, turning a piercing gaze toward his son. “I hear she keeps reaching out from her side.”

The woman his father mentioned was someone Shin had met through an arranged marriage meeting before the emergency arose. Among the numerous formal introductions he had endured, this particular candidate stood out only because she repeatedly reached out through various channels expressing a desire to meet again. She was the sole individual who persisted despite his clear refusal.

“If we’re compatible, we’ll meet again,” Shin replied evasively.

General Lee barked a harsh chuckle. “It’s not as if you slept together—you only shared a single meal while looking at her face. What nonsense is this about compatibility? When mutual interests align, that is what makes a good match.”

“For all you know, we might have slept together,” Shin retorted, his voice cool and unbothered.

It was intended to render his father speechless, yet General Lee seemed to have no intention of backing down.

“Then you should know all the better that it’s no big deal,” General Lee insisted, leaning in. “She clearly likes you, so carve out some time to see her once more. That is basic courtesy.”

General Lee was the very person who knew better than anyone that now was hardly the time for leisurely dates. Whether this national emergency was a joke to him or his son’s marriage was merely a game, even the sharp-witted Shin found it difficult to fathom.

Knowing full well that prolonging the argument would accomplish nothing with a father who heard only what he wished to hear, Shin answered with a placid smile.

“Yes, sir. I will.”

Even with the staff officers dismissed, prying ears might still be listening in the shadows. If there were, Shin could easily anticipate how wildly this conversation might be sensationalized and spread, but he paid it little mind. Fortunately, their talk contained no clues that could identify the woman. Superficial agreement remained the swiftest method to cut short a discussion with his father.

Patting his son’s shoulder, General Lee urged, “See that it works out. Once your wedding is settled, I will step in personally to secure positions for Cha’s brothers. There is no bond as secure as uniting influential families. The eldest has nothing to worry about, and the timing is ideal for the youngest, so the moment he earns his promotion—”

“Don’t,” Shin cut in sharply.

Momentarily caught off guard by his son’s resolute tone, General Lee was just about to ask what he meant when a vehicle screeched loudly into the parking structure. Tires grated across the polished concrete floor with a deafening screech. The instant the piercing noise subsided, Shin bowed respectfully toward his father.

“Have a safe journey back, Father.”

Mollified quite simply by hearing his son address him as Father, General Lee climbed into the sedan without probing further. Shin held his post until the heavy vehicle cleared the lot. The moment the taillights vanished, he knitted his brows in revulsion and sought out a nearby trash can to spit out the saliva pooling in his mouth.

And in a shadow-draped corner of the parking structure, someone had overheard every single word. By cruel misfortune, he stood at the exact distance where every murmur carried clearly.

Concealed behind a massive concrete pillar, Se-woong waited until he confirmed Shin had completely vanished before letting out a long, ragged exhale. Fearing the perceptive officer might detect his presence, he hadn’t dared twitch so much as a finger the entire time.

He hadn’t hidden on purpose, he swore to heaven. It was he who had arrived first.

The sudden appearance of the two men just as he stepped out of his car had left him trapped—unable to step forward, yet unable to climb back inside. He had no choice but to stand frozen, forced to listen to a conversation he never wanted to hear.

It’s not like this is some twentieth-century melodrama. The sheer absurdity of this pitiful situation drew a hollow, incredulous laugh from Se-woong.

I really must be madly in love with Lee Shin. To feel as if the ground were collapsing beneath his feet over talk like this. Would swallowing red-hot iron balls down his throat burn any more agonizingly than this?

Hearing that Shin was seeing a woman ought to be a relief. It meant Shin hadn’t allowed their breakup to shatter his daily life, returning swiftly to his proper orbit just as Se-woong had hoped. Given how long their relationship had lasted, he had wondered if even the formidable Lee Shin might wander lost for a while, but it seemed those were entirely wasted worries.

Therefore, he should be fine. He ought to feel reassured seeing Shin thrive. Yet an aimless resentment kept welling within Se-woong’s chest, grasping for someone to blame.

Couldn’t he thrive somewhere far beyond my sight? He wished news of Shin going on blind dates, dating, and getting married would only reach his ears years down the road. There truly was no hypocrisy quite like his own.

I never knew a heart could ache this deeply.

Unable to bring himself to weep, Se-woong could only contort his face in silent agony.

* * *

As the clock neared ten, Yukwoo-jeong had finally caught a moment to breathe after surviving the dinner rush when a new patron stepped through the doors. Ordinarily, few customers were less welcome than those arriving during slow hours, yet the staff greeted him with beaming smiles. Hyun-woo had always insisted this hospitality was entirely owed to Lee Shin’s striking face.

“What the hell, Lee Shin? What brings you here without calling?” Hyun-woo called out from behind the counter. “No wonder the staff’s voices sounded so thrilled. I didn’t see your car outside—did you take a cab?”

Entering just a step behind him, Hyun-woo expressed genuine surprise at seeing Shin standing abruptly in the entryway. Having been out in the parking lot seeing off guests, the restaurant owner had evidently missed his friend’s arrival.

Beyond the surprise, however, a hint of awkward fluster flickered across Hyun-woo’s expression. As indifferent to others as Shin tended to be, he wasn’t so unobservant that he would miss the strange demeanor of a lifelong friend. Furthermore, a faint scent of liquor drifted from Hyun-woo.

Shin regarded Hyun-woo with a questioning gaze. While restaurant proprietors customarily accepted drinks while tending to patrons, Hyun-woo was someone who would readily swap out charcoal and grill plates at a guest’s table, yet never shared a drink with them.

Loosening his collar slightly, he asked, “Just wanted to have a drink. Should we head upstairs?”

Scratching the back of his neck, Hyun-woo replied hesitantly, “Yeah. Well… if you head up, Woong is up there.”

“Se-woong?” Shin stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing. “With whom?”

Hyun-woo answered quickly, “By himself. Just the two of us drinking.”

“He was drinking?” Shin inquired in disbelief.

Se-woong was drinking?

Only then did Shin understand why the scent of alcohol clung to Hyun-woo. And why his friend looked somewhat uneasy. Yes, that much made sense, but now another realization refused to compute.

Se-woong had a poor tolerance for liquor and rarely drank at all. Knowing his own limits, he took great care never to place himself in situations where he might make mistakes, to the point that he wouldn’t even open a light can of beer casually. Yet Cha Se-woong was drinking—not at a departmental gathering, but completely alone, coming all the way here to seek out Hyun-woo.

Before Hyun-woo could offer further explanation, Shin took the stairs two at a time with sweeping strides. True to his friend’s words, the sliding door to Room 8, the private room they always frequented, stood slightly ajar. He surmised Hyun-woo hadn’t shut it properly upon stepping out.

Without hesitation, Shin slipped his hand into the opening and slid the door aside. There, sitting inside, was truly Se-woong. Flushed with rising feverish warmth, Se-woong was slumped over his folded arms on the table, gazing up at him.

“Oh… it’s Shin.”

With the rims of his eyes flushed a soft red, Se-woong offered a hazy, unfocused smile. When was the last time Shin had seen him smile like that, his eyes crinkling at the corners? When had Se-woong ever smiled looking up at him? It was a memory buried so deep in the past that Shin could only stand frozen, silently drinking in the sight of Se-woong beaming foolishly toward him.

From the mention of Se-woong’s second brother this morning to the encounter with his father at headquarters, Shin had sought out Yukwoo-jeong thinking he could only manage sleep if he grabbed Yuk Hyun-woo for a late drink. He had never imagined he would find Cha Se-woong here. Had today’s exhausting hours been endured merely to lay eyes upon this neat, innocent face?

Gazing down, Shin’s eyes caught the empty soju glass clutched in Se-woong’s hand. Then the trail of empty green bottles scattered beside him. It was a quantity far beyond what Se-woong’s tolerance could handle. Even assuming Hyun-woo had consumed most of it, the volume was formidable.