Chapter 39

“Greetings, little brother! My name is Mo Jeong-gil!”

“What the hell? Who’s this thug?” Lee Jaeho recoiled, openly staring at him. “Ugh, yeah, hello. Just don’t talk to me. You look fucking terrifying.”

They had parked in the underground garage and were riding up to the gym when the elevator doors opened on the first floor, allowing Lee Jaeho to bound inside. Jaeha raised one eyebrow.

The parking garage had been more than spacious enough, so it was strange that someone with no apparent reason to use the building’s public entrance had suddenly appeared on the first floor.

Seemingly driven by an instinctive need to bridge the distance between two men who looked nothing alike, Jeong-gil bent toward Jaeho in a precise ninety-degree bow. Jaeha, meanwhile, had yet to respond to Jaeho’s casual greeting.

“Oh? You’re here early.”

Jaeho had been in the middle of stepping into the elevator when Jeong-gil’s booming introduction sent him jerking backward.

“Ah, shit. You scared the crap out of me…” He pressed a hand to his chest, genuinely startled.

Jaeha ignored both of them and fixed his gaze on the display as the illuminated floor numbers continued to climb.

The elevator chimed softly when they reached the gym. Jaeha and Jeong-gil stepped out first, but Jaeho remained visibly repulsed by the encounter. He hurried after Jaeha and clung close to his side as though trying to avoid a circling wasp. His voice dropped into an uncharacteristic whisper.

“Hey, hey. Who is that guy? Why is the kid you brought along so weird? What’s his deal? And those eyes are just…” Jaeho risked another glance behind them, then flinched. “Huh? Hey, look at him. Why is he staring at me like that? It’s creepy.”

“Be polite. He’s your brother-in-law’s coworker.”

“What? Brother-in-law’s?”

Jaeho’s jaw dropped so dramatically that it looked in danger of coming unhinged, instantly silencing the rest of his complaints. The sight drew a quiet chuckle from Jaeha.

A few steps behind them, Jeong-gil offered an unusual compliment.

“Are you good at boxing too, little brother? The two of you make quite an impressive pair.”

Realizing that the others had fallen behind, Jaeha glanced back. Only then did he notice the peculiar way Jeong-gil was looking at Jaeho.

It was exactly as Jaeho had described. Strange.

How should I put it…?

His expression looks almost greasy.

A more charitable observer might have called the look sparkling, but Jaeha found himself incapable of such generosity. Jeong-gil’s glassy eyes gleamed without pause, carrying an intensity that went far beyond ordinary friendliness.

Jaeho muttered that the man was giving him the creeps. Shuddering, he rubbed both arms and slipped into the gym ahead of them.

Jaeha turned back toward Jeong-gil, who remained rooted in place, staring at the door through which Jaeho had disappeared. That familiar, vacant grin still stretched across his face.

He really isn’t all there.

The thought had barely formed when Jeong-gil spoke, his gaze still fixed on the doorway.

“Little brother wouldn’t happen to have a lover, would he? He really shouldn’t.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure.”

Jaeha answered honestly, since he genuinely did not know, yet something about the question felt fundamentally wrong. He tilted his head, unable to determine what exactly had unsettled him, but there was no time to waste dwelling on it.

He followed Jeong-gil into the gym and offered the coach a brief greeting. Instructor Park performed an exaggerated display of disappointment over not having seen Jaeha in so long, then directed Jeong-gil toward a seat.

“From your perspective, Jeong-gil, sparring like this might look like child’s play. Would you rather get some coffee?”

“No. I’ll watch the two of you from here.”

Jeong-gil answered with a broad, idiotic grin.

Apart from his sharp eyes, his features would have appeared clean and well composed if he had simply kept his mouth shut. Unfortunately, the combination of his expression and that particular grin made him look profoundly bizarre.

Jaeha studied him from the corner of his eye, tilting his head. Judging by the sheer radiance of Jeong-gil’s delight, perhaps the man was simply a devoted fan of combat sports.

It was an unexpected possibility. Jeong-gil’s knuckles looked as hard as stone, suggesting that he was already intimately familiar with the practical art of beating someone senseless.

Still, enjoying boxing as a spectator was not necessarily the same as participating in it. With that assumption in mind, Jaeha climbed into the ring.

Jaeho had emerged from the changing room first. As he tightened his gloves, he leaned closer and hissed under his breath.

“Seriously, is he just going to sit there and stare at us the entire time…? I told you, his eyes are fucking weird.”

“What’s wrong with you, calling someone’s eyes weird?”

Jaeha’s voice held little emotion, resembling that of an adult attempting to soothe an unruly elementary school student. He tightened his own gloves while Instructor Park approached and explained that they would be sparring for four rounds.

Once both men had put on their headgear, the match began.

The first round belonged to Jaeha.

A single light jab disrupted Jaeho’s stance, and from that moment onward, Jaeha drove forward with a steady succession of hooks, accumulating points with calculated ease.

The second round went to Jaeho.

The moment it ended, Jeong-gil shot to his feet and began clapping. His applause was so grand and thunderous that it startled even Jaeho, who had been grinning around his mouthpiece.

“What the hell?” Jaeho muttered, his words muffled by the guard. “Is he a fucking psycho?”

Every round that followed ended in Jaeha’s favor. Even so, Instructor Park directed his praise toward Jaeho.

“Jaeho, you managed to take a round from your brother. That’s remarkable improvement. The Executive Director should definitely start watching his back.”

“I suppose so.”

Jaeha laughed as he stripped off his equipment. Beside him, Jaeho stood in silence, his face gradually turning red. He looked exactly like a mischievous elementary school student receiving praise from his teacher in front of his parents on visitors’ day.

Amused, Jaeha snickered and reached for the towel hanging from the net. Before his fingers could close around it, another hand suddenly thrust forward and intercepted him.

Mo Jeong-gil had been leaning against the corner of the ring, watching them. Now he stood before Jaeha with a towel extended in one hand, his eyes glinting with that peculiar, oily luster as a wide, toothy grin split his face.

“Whoa, the two of you were truly impressive.”

Jeong-gil handed over the towels with unmistakable admiration.

Although he had praised both brothers, his gaze remained locked exclusively on Lee Jaeho.

By that point, the fixation had become impossible to ignore, leaving Jaeha genuinely confused.

Unlike Jaeha’s mother, who had remained tall and slender despite being an Omega, Kim Ranhee was far more delicate. She was petite, with small, refined features and a compact frame. Lee Jaeho had inherited much of that slightness. Even as an Alpha, he was shorter and more delicately built than Jaeha.

Still, he did not look like an Omega.

Even as a recessive Alpha, the physical advantages granted by his secondary sex had not been completely concealed.

Mo Jeong-gil was also an Alpha, most likely a dominant one. Jaeha had never confirmed it beyond all doubt, but Jeong-gil possessed the distinct and unmistakable presence of a dominant Alpha. Although he stood shorter than Jaeha, a palpable current of force seemed to surge from him whenever he was not smiling. The moment he grinned, his eyes curved and lent him an air of almost childlike innocence. With his mouth closed, however, traces of the life he had led became impossible to overlook.

There was no possibility that Jeong-gil was an Omega, which made his obvious interest in Lee Jaeho all the more difficult to understand.

Momentarily forgetting that he himself had fallen for another Alpha, Jaeha merely tilted his head.

Asking directly would have been rude.

The way Jeong-gil stared at Jaeho was almost comical.

His eyes really are shining.

Perhaps calling them greasy had been too harsh. Jeong-gil’s eyes were practically twinkling as he watched Jaeho.

Jaeha smiled privately at the sight. Meanwhile, the other two had already begun bickering.

“Hey, mister. Sorry, but… you do know you’re not supposed to talk to me, right?”

“Yes, sir. For now, please use this to wipe off your sweat, little brother.”

Considering his complete disregard for Jaeho’s request that he remain silent, Jeong-gil seemed remarkably unfazed.

Jaeho appeared to share Jaeha’s disbelief. His expression twisted into something peculiar as he stared at the towel in Jeong-gil’s hand. Afraid that leaving them alone much longer would prompt the foul-mouthed Jaeho to launch into a stream of abuse, Jaeha stepped between them and pulled his brother away.

“Go wash up, then head straight home and sleep. Use an ice pack before you go to bed.”

“…Am I a kid?”

Jaeho grumbled under his breath, but he slipped nimbly through the opening when Jaeha lifted the net. Together, they withdrew into the locker room, removed the rest of their equipment, and stepped into the showers for a quick rinse under the steaming water.

Although Jaeha generally invited his brother back to his own home, Jaeho preferred renting out the entire gym, both for his own sake and for Instructor Park’s.

Before his marriage, Jaeha might have lectured him for inconveniencing the gym’s other patrons. He no longer pressed the matter. Jaeho rented the facility specifically to avoid the headache of encountering Kim Ranhee at the main family estate, even though the residence had its own private sparring ring.

Thanks to that arrangement, the brothers were completely alone in the shower room.

Seized by a sudden burst of mischief, Jaeho scooped up a handful of water and flung it at Jaeha. Jaeha did not so much as flinch. He continued scrubbing himself with clinical efficiency, his only concern being to finish quickly enough for Instructor Park and Mo Jeong-gil to leave at a reasonable hour.

Despite entering the shower together, Jaeha finished well ahead of his brother.

“Hey, that’s low! We were supposed to leave together!”

Jaeha ignored the sulky complaint. He could see no logical connection between the alleged unfairness of the situation and the timing of their departure.

He stepped out first, dressed swiftly, and gave his wet hair a rough shake.

Without its usual pomade, his bangs fell damply across his forehead rather than remaining swept neatly back. The Alpha reflected in the mirror looked slightly younger than his actual age.

Pulling a formal suit over damp skin felt strangely discordant, yet Jaeha fastened his cuffs with his usual precision.

A moment later, Lee Jaeho hurried out after him.

“Get dressed. Everyone is waiting.”

“…No, I paid to rent this place for the whole day. Can’t I even shower at my own pace…?”

Jaeha did not answer. In truth, he had stopped listening.

According to Mo Jeong-gil, Jang Taegeon was running late that day. Jaeha estimated that their journeys home would therefore take roughly the same amount of time.

He directed another sharp look at Jaeho. After several more muttered complaints, his brother finally went to change.

Noticing that water was still dripping from Jaeho’s hair, Jaeha draped a towel over his head, fastened his watch around his wrist, and walked outside.

Mo Jeong-gil had been speaking with Instructor Park, but the instant Jaeha emerged, he whipped around.

There was something about Jeong-gil’s appearance that always reminded Jaeha of a Doberman. At that moment, he looked so alert that Jaeha could almost imagine his ears perking upright.

Jaeha chuckled, “Lee Jaeho is still changing. He’ll be out soon.”

“Actually, I think this gentleman has become quite smitten with Lee Jaeho’s boxing,” Instructor Park remarked. He glanced at Jeong-gil with open confusion. “He hasn’t stopped talking about him. Even though your hooks are much heavier, Executive Director.”

Jaeha merely smiled and waited with them for his brother.

Not long afterward, Lee Jaeho emerged from the changing room, and the three men left the gym in single file.

Once inside the elevator, Jaeho remained visibly wary of Mo Jeong-gil. He repeatedly jabbed the button for the first floor, insisting that he wanted to get off before anyone else.

Jaeha did not stop him. He correctly assumed that Jaeho’s sudden willingness to go home without complaint was merely a response to Jaeha’s earlier refusal to entertain his whining about having a beer after the workout.

Jaeha and Mo Jeong-gil had just reached the underground parking garage when Lee Jaeho’s phone began to ring.

Lee Jaeha swiped across the screen, suspicion flickering over his face.

“Why?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I think my car got towed. They told me to come get it tomorrow, so just drop me off at the main house.”

“Did you park on the main street again?”

“No, that’s not what happened… Look, are you going to give me a ride or not?”

“Just get down here first.”

As he spoke, Lee Jaeha glanced toward Mo Jeong-gil, who had already brought the car around and now waited beside the open backseat door. Perhaps sensing that Lee Jaeho was the man on the other end of the call, Mo’s usually polished, stoic expression had transformed into that same bizarre, foolish grin.

It was the first time Lee Jaeha realized that some people were simply better off not smiling.

“I need to drop my brother off at the main residence,” Jaeha informed him.

“I’m grateful for the ride,” Jaeho’s voice piped through the phone.

Why would he be grateful?

As Lee Jaeha tilted his head in confusion, the elevator doors slid open and Lee Jaeho stepped out, his cheeks faintly flushed. The moment he appeared, excuses began pouring from him in a frantic torrent.

“No, listen, I only parked there for a second… Everyone parks there…”

Lee Jaeha turned toward his stepbrother, his expression hardening. Jaeho flinched beneath the crushing weight of his stare.

“What did I tell you would happen if you did this one more time?” Jaeha asked, his voice stripped of all emotion.

“That… that you’d take my keys and assign a driver to me…”

At the beginning of the previous year, while the rest of the world basked in the excitement of the New Year, a certain photograph had gone viral. It captured a sports car belonging to the youngest Alpha of a conglomerate being hauled away by a tow truck.

The incident had been born from Lee Jaeho’s drunken impulsiveness. He had parked wherever he pleased, and when his car was towed, he responded with brazen arrogance. The people who first saw the photograph did not recognize him, but it did not take long for the public to identify the man in the image as Lee Jaeho of Yooshin.

There had even been a video of him screaming at the top of his lungs as he watched his Lamborghini, parked squarely in the middle of a no-parking zone in the heart of Apgujeong, being dragged away by a tow truck carrying out the law.

The footage had set social media ablaze. At the time, Yooshin’s Strategy Department had entered a state of emergency, scrambling desperately to purge the video from the internet.

It had happened during a critical window. Lee Jaeha had been busy greasing palms in the murky underbelly of Yeouido, pushing for government deregulation that would facilitate several new business ventures. Had everything proceeded quietly, it would have been the perfect opportunity to launch the new enterprise under the relaxed regulations. Instead, Lee Jaeho’s six-cylinder convertible had blown the entire operation to hell.

Jaeha had placed him under house arrest and warned that if anything similar happened again, he would confiscate his keys and force him to use a driver. Kim Ranhee had later approached Jaeha in person to apologize on the boy’s behalf, asking whether he was being too harsh and pleading with him to show mercy.

Perhaps recalling that particular humiliation, Lee Jaeho scrunched up his face, his voice rising with indignation.

“Dammit, that’s where everyone parks! Even Instructor Park says he leaves his academy van there whenever he’s in a rush! It’s not even a place where they actually enforce the parking restrictions!”

Mo Jeong-gil smirked as he eased the car away from the curb. “Hmm. I don’t think I’ll be able to head toward Gangbuk. It would be better to slip onto Gangbyeonbuk-ro. You both have your seatbelts on, right?”

Already buckled in, Jaeha tapped the strap across his chest. He glanced at Jaeho, who was still noisily demanding to know what was happening.

“Wh-what?” Jaeho belatedly clicked his seatbelt into place. “Who the hell are those people?”

Anxiety clouded his features as he pressed them for an explanation.

Jaeha released a short, weary sigh. “I suppose your car being towed wasn’t a coincidence, either.”

“Yes, that appears to be the case,” Mo Jeong-gil replied.

The color drained from Lee Jaeho’s face.

“What? Then where the hell is my car? My mom bought that for me because I worked my ass off at the company!”

The way he shrieked, “My car!” was so wildly out of step with the gravity of their situation that it bordered on comical. Meanwhile, the sedan cut through traffic and merged onto Gangbyeonbuk-ro.

Few vehicles were heading toward northern Gyeonggi. The instant they cleared the curved entrance ramp, Mo Jeong-gil slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The vehicle was not a six-cylinder convertible like Jaeho’s, but since it was the car Jaeha regularly used, the engine beneath the hood was a beast.

The black sedan unleashed a predatory roar and tore down the open stretch of Gangbyeonbuk-ro.

The late hour had left the road sparse, which was a blessing. Unfortunately, it also meant the bastards behind them had an unobstructed line of sight.

Mo Jeong-gil carved through the lanes like a knife. He veered toward the shoulder, shifted gears, and abruptly threw the car into reverse.

“Uh… uh?!”

Jaeho gasped and twisted around in disbelief.

Jaeha was equally startled.

Fortunately, the road immediately behind them was clear. The van and sedans that had been pursuing them from the adjacent lane were caught off guard and slammed on their brakes.

A cacophony of horns erupted from the pursuing vehicles.

Mo Jeong-gil draped his right arm over the passenger seat’s headrest and turned to look behind him. Calmly watching through the rear window, he steered with only his left hand.

For a fleeting moment, his gaze met Jaeho’s. Mo Jeong-gil gave him a playful wink.

Jaeho stared back in horror.

“Are… are you a fucking lunatic?”

A car in the neighboring lane panicked at the sight of the sedan reversing toward it and swerved violently. The vehicle following directly behind had failed to notice Jaeha’s car until the final second, and its driver laid on the horn in a frenzy.

The driver ahead stomped on the brakes, desperate to stop, but there was not enough distance.

The gap between the vehicles shrank until less than a finger’s width remained. Just before impact, the approaching car unleashed one final, ear-splitting blast of its horn.

Amid the piercing noise, Mo Jeong-gil whipped the steering wheel hard to the right.

Centrifugal force hurled Jaeha and Jaeho violently to the left. Acting on instinct, Jaeha seized Jaeho by the back of the neck to keep his head from snapping sideways.

The car slid perfectly onto the exit road leading toward the outskirts of Seoul. With another bestial roar, the engine surged, propelling the sedan forward with explosive force.

“Hah… fuck… hah… my heart… Ack!”

Lee Jaeho gasped, his eyes stretched wide with terror after one panicked glance behind them. They had come within a breath of being struck by another car.

Beside him, Lee Jaeha felt clammy sweat slicking his palms, his own fear mirroring his brother’s.

Mo Jeong-gil merely whistled a jaunty tune.

The backseat heaved violently with every erratic maneuver, yet he remained infuriatingly unperturbed. A quiet giggle slipped past his lips as his hands glided over the steering wheel with smooth, practiced ease.

Apparently satisfied that they had put sufficient distance between themselves and their pursuers, Jeong-gil caught their gazes in the rearview mirror and offered another cheerful wink.

“I’ve been driving for eighteen years, so the two of you can relax.”

Lee Jaeho narrowed his eyes, his expression twisted with disbelief.

“Exactly how old are you?” he rasped.

“Thirty-two this year,” Jeong-gil replied without hesitation.

Jaeho’s jaw sagged as though another dozen questions had rushed to the tip of his tongue, but none escaped. Too stunned to speak, he clamped his mouth shut while the last traces of color drained from his face.

Jaeha cast another quick glance behind them, then turned his attention toward Jeong-gil.

“What was that just now?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Jeong-gil replied breezily. “Hyung-nim assigned me and that bastard Myeongsun to tail you for precisely this kind of situation. We’ve already reported everything to him.”

His nonchalance was so complete that Jaeha found himself thinking, Maybe it really is fine.

He had initially assumed they were skirting the outskirts of Seoul, but they appeared to have driven deep into northern Gyeonggi. Near a newly developing town, freshly paved roads stretched across an unfinished landscape, utterly devoid of other cars or pedestrians.

Jeong-gil winked at Jaeha once more, as though silently promising to deliver him home safely.

Lee Jaeho immediately hollered at the driver and begged him to keep his eyes on the road.

Amid the agitated clamor, Jaeha drew out his phone. He rubbed his thumb across the screen, then entered Jang Taegeon’s number.

The call connected almost as soon as it began ringing.

—“Are you on your way?”

A deep, resonant voice rumbled through the speaker.

A memory surged to the forefront of Jaeha’s mind, carrying him back to the precise moment he had first heard that voice.

He remembered thinking that it sounded like heavy rain driven by a relentless wind. Even now, hearing that simple question, Are you on your way?, caused something profound to swell within Lee Jaeha’s chest, as though he had finally found a home to which he could return.

He had, of course, possessed a house before.

It was the house where his grandfather, who cherished him, and his mother, who loved him dearly, had once lived.

Yet they had vanished from Lee Jaeha’s life so quickly that the place had long ago ceased to feel like a home.

Now, at last, he had somewhere to return to.

The realization resonated deep within his chest and stirred a poignant warmth through him.

Jaeha bit his lip, struggling to conceal the sudden tightness in his voice.

“Yes.”

—“If Mo Jeong-gil drives like a maniac, tell me immediately. I’ll make him press his forehead against a bottle cap while holding a plank.”

“No, that’s not necessary. He’s doing just fine,” Jaeha blurted, startled into a hasty defense.

He instinctively glanced toward the rearview mirror. Jeong-gil, entirely oblivious to his boss’s dire threat, grinned back at him with an innocent expression. Reasoning that the man could not be subjected to such punishment without justification, Jaeha deftly changed the subject.

“Is Director Jang all right?”

—“I came home only to discover that my better half was nowhere to be found. I feel utterly abandoned. How could I possibly be all right?”

The contrast between Taegeon’s indifferent tone and his casual reference to Jaeha as his better half coaxed a laugh from Jaeha’s lips.

Hearing it, Taegeon paused.

—“Are you laughing?”

A ticklish sensation fluttered through Jaeha, forcing him to bite his lip again to smother the amusement.

“I’ll be there soon,” he managed. “Jeong-gil is driving very well, so…”

—“Yes. Hurry home,” Taegeon replied. —“For every minute you’re late, I’ll add another beating to Jeong-gil’s punishment.”

“Argh, hyung-nim! Even if I drive at a hundred, it’ll still take forty minutes to get there!”

Jeong-gil’s shriek made it obvious that he had overheard the threat.

He looked genuinely flustered, perhaps because he had only just remembered that he still needed to drop Jaeho off along the way. Jaeha chuckled and turned his head, only to find Lee Jaeho staring at him with an expression that plainly declared, You’ve lost your damn mind.

Jaeha immediately cleared his throat and forced his lips back into a neutral line.

“If you’re tired, go to sleep.”

—“Should I have the bed prepared for a wild night the moment you arrive? Yes, my dear.”

The flippancy of Taegeon’s tone, paired with the startling content of his words, made Jaeha suspect that he was deliberately trying to ease his tension.

Jaeha did not answer. He simply smiled to himself.

He remained silent, allowing the smile to linger. Taegeon paused for a moment before offering one final command.

—“Hurry.”

Jaeha savored that single word as the call ended, never realizing that the smile remained etched across his face.

“Hey, Executive Director Lee Jaeha, you’re smiling way too much right now. Do you know how scary that is?” Jaeho stared at him openly. “You’re the kind of guy who smiles once or twice a year.”

At his stepbrother’s blunt observation, Jaeha rested one arm against the window frame and lightly covered his mouth.

Something flashed in the rearview mirror.

“Hmm.” Jeong-gil’s lips curved into a low chuckle. “They’re fucking persistent, aren’t they?”

Startled, Jaeho whipped around to look.

A van was following them, although it was a different model from the vehicles they had seen earlier. The two sedans behind it were different as well. Apparently, their pursuers had stationed units throughout several sectors, and the moment Jeong-gil entered the suburban road, the nearest group had latched onto them.

They seemed determined.

“Is this about Myeongwon?” Jaeha asked.

“I apologize, Executive Director. Hyung-nim will explain everything after you arrive home today.”

That answer confirmed it. This was not something Jeong-gil was permitted to discuss.

Jaeha said nothing and looked back again. Thanks to the distance they had already created, the pursuing headlights appeared only as faint glimmers in the darkness.

This time, however, there were no side roads into which they could escape. The empty late-night road stretched endlessly ahead, desolate and exposed.

Perhaps because almost no one traveled there at that hour, the three-section traffic lights flashed a slow, lonely yellow. It was difficult to imagine pedestrians walking through a place where even cars seldom ventured.

A sidewalk ran beside the four-lane road, but long stretches of pavement were broken, patchy, and disconnected.

If something goes wrong here, we could die without a single witness.

Perhaps Mo Jeong-gil sensed the same dreadful possibility, because the engine’s roar deepened as the RPMs climbed. The sedan was a high-end vehicle, ordinarily free from chassis vibration even at high speeds, but the violence of his acceleration sent a faint yet unmistakable tremor through the seats.

“Both of you, hold on tight!”

Mo Jeong-gil’s voice had become clipped, stripped of its usual composure.

Beside Jaeha, Lee Jaeho had turned deathly pale. His knuckles whitened around the handle above the backseat window.

Jaeha mirrored the gesture, clamping one hand firmly around the window frame.

The pursuing vehicles accelerated in unison behind them. They were already moving at speeds that would have been suicidal on an ordinary city street, let alone a national highway, yet Mo Jeong-gil showed no intention of slowing.

After five kilometers of relentless, straight-line acceleration, a four-way intersection finally appeared on the horizon.

Continuing forward would take them directly onto the Second Jayu Road. From Jeong-gil’s perspective, remaining on an ordinary road seemed safer, since they might at least encounter a witness.

He appeared ready to attempt another feint.

After checking the distance between them and the pursuing vehicles in the rearview mirror, he stamped violently on the brakes and simulated a sharp right turn. A second later, he floored the accelerator and sent the sedan rocketing straight ahead.

The sudden surge of force nearly launched Jaeho’s upper body forward.

Jaeha reached out to brace him and glanced behind them.

“God damn it!”

The curse tore from Mo Jeong-gil in a voice sharpened by rare and genuine alarm.

A truck executing an illegal left turn had suddenly cut across the path of the speeding sedan. Its driver, seemingly oblivious to their approach, had charged into the intersection without so much as touching the brakes.

Mo Jeong-gil yanked the steering wheel hard.

Even within that split second of chaos, he steered to the right, sacrificing the driver’s side to the median so that the impact would not crush the backseat.

The car shuddered violently.

Tires shrieked against the asphalt, carving blackened skid marks into the road. Lee Jaeha threw all his strength into the arm braced across Lee Jaeho’s body, pinning him against the seat so he would not be hurled forward.

Then a deafening roar erupted from behind them, shaking the sedan to its frame.

The pursuing van had slammed into their rear bumper.

The impact sent the van spinning wildly in place, its tires struggling for traction as it rotated. Still carrying tremendous kinetic force, the sedan traced a violent figure eight across the road before leaping over the sidewalk guardrail and crashing into a tree with a bone-jarring thud.

The driver’s side mirror shattered. The fender above the wheel crumpled like scrap paper.

Lee Jaeha had instinctively wedged his forearm between his forehead and the window to absorb the shock, and he was the first to regain his senses.

He looked toward the front seat.

The airbags had deployed in a cloud of white powder. Mo Jeong-gil appeared to have lost consciousness.

In the distance, the startled truck driver could be heard slamming on his brakes. Before the echoes had even faded, figures dressed in black began spilling from the vehicles behind them.

Clang. Clang.

The rhythmic strikes of aluminum bats against the asphalt rang through the wreckage.

One of the men waved dismissively at the truck driver, who had climbed out of his cab and now stood staring in bewilderment.

Watching the figures advance, Lee Jaeha reached out and tapped Lee Jaeho’s cheek.

“Lee Jaeho. Jaeho!”

“Ugh… ah…”

Lee Jaeho had slumped into unconsciousness.

Jaeha resisted the urge to shake him, but as the thugs closed in, anxiety overwhelmed his restraint and drove him to act.

Fortunately, Jaeho returned to consciousness quickly and appeared physically unharmed.

“What… what the hell… Shit… Ow…”

“Get a hold of yourself, Lee Jaeho.”

The frigid, emotionless edge in Lee Jaeha’s voice gradually dragged Jaeho back to his senses. He knew better than anyone the particular shade of anger that crept into his stepbrother’s tone.

Lee Jaeha released his seatbelt.

Startled, Jaeho peered through the damaged window. Six men had poured from the van, while four more had emerged from the sedan. Together with those already surrounding the wreck, fourteen attackers closed in on them.

Lee Jaeho swallowed hard, his throat constricting with fear.

“W-what the hell are we going to do?”

“The windows aren’t even bulletproof. They’ll keep smashing the glass until they get inside.”

As soon as the words left Jaeha’s mouth, Jaeho began frantically searching the floor for his phone. He had clung to the device like a lifeline ever since speaking with Director Jang. Had he placed it inside his suit jacket, it would not have been thrown aside during the collision.

Jaeho’s fingertips scraped desperately across the floor while Jaeha ordered him to call the police.

With trembling hands, Jaeho snatched up the phone and dialed 112.

“Uh, h-here! We’re on the main road in front of the Geonneolsan Tunnel… Ah, shit, do you think I’d be calling if nothing happened? There are gangsters everywhere! They have baseball bats, and they’re…”

He was cut off in the middle of his explanation.

The car lurched backward as someone stamped onto the bumper, climbed across the trunk and roof, and began hammering the windshield from above.

Bang. Bang.

The crystalline shriek of fracturing glass rang out with jarring clarity.

Jaeho flinched so violently that the phone slipped from his hand.

Lee Jaeha struggled to recall the final digits of Director Jang’s number. Although the sequence he had never consciously memorized appeared with strange vividness in his mind, the last few numbers remained frustratingly beyond reach.

Then the rear window beside Jaeho exploded with a violent crash.

The tinting film held the shattered pieces together, leaving the broken glass suspended like a jagged curtain. The attacker struck it again with his bat, then thrust one hand through the opening and seized the door handle.

He yanked the locked handle once, then again.

The latch released.

One of the vehicle’s convenience features allowed the door to open when the interior handle was pulled twice. In that instant, Jaeha bitterly realized that he should have purchased a car whose locks could not be disengaged without pressing a remote button in the front seat.

“Argh!”

An assailant seized Lee Jaeho and dragged him violently through the open door.

Cursing inwardly, Jaeha prepared to vault through the same opening after his brother. Before he could move, his own door flew open and a hand clamped around his collar.

With a dull thud, he was slammed onto the asphalt. His lower body struck first, and the attacker immediately began dragging him across the ground.

Lee Jaeho fought back, scraping his heels against the pavement, but the effort was useless. His captor held every positional advantage.

Meanwhile, another man approached the driver’s side and wrenched at the crumpled door.

Screech.

The tortured groan of bending metal tore through the air.

The assailant unfastened the unconscious Mo Jeong-gil’s seatbelt and began pulling him from the wreck.

Before the man could drag him any farther, Lee Jaeha seized the arm gripping Jeong-gil’s collar, wrenched his own hips backward, and drove his left foot sharply into the side of the attacker’s neck.

“Argh!”

A sickening crack followed.

The man’s knees buckled, and his eyes rolled back before he collapsed unconscious.

Without pausing for a heartbeat, Jaeha surged forward and drove a vicious hook into the jaw of the man hauling Lee Jaeho away.

He possessed the kind of skill that had once earned him an invitation to train as an amateur athlete. Even against professionals, he was far from helpless. A precise strike to the lower jaw was enough to induce a mild concussion.

The man dragging Lee Jaeho collapsed instantly.

“Argh, he’s so heavy!”

The first attacker, whose knees had already given way, slumped directly on top of Lee Jaeho.

Startled, Jaeho scrambled to roll the unconscious body aside and hurried to his feet.

Lee Jaeha did not spare him a glance. His eyes were already sweeping across the remaining group as he recounted their numbers.

The man who had tried to drag Mo Jeong-gil away was staring directly at them.

Twelve opponents remained.

Those who had climbed from the sedan stood gripping their weapons, their heads tilted in open confusion.

“Take care of Mo Jeong-gil.”

“H-Hyung, what about you?”

His habit of calling Jaeha ‘Hyung’ only when panic seized him had not changed in the slightest.

Lee Jaeha shrugged off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. The silk whispered as it slid free, slithering like a snake through grass, and he wound the fabric tightly around his knuckles.

“Mo Jeong-gil’s phone should be in his jacket. Call Director Jang.”

“C-call…”

Lee Jaeho was trembling, but he shakily raised his hands and attempted to assume a fighting stance. Even if he could not confront a dozen armed men, he refused to sit helplessly and accept a beating.

Lee Jaeha released a short, sharp breath.

Realizing they outnumbered him, the men began converging, apparently having decided that overwhelming him together was their only reliable option.

Jaeha did not wait for them to strike first.

He extended one foot. The sole of his leather shoe scraped across the asphalt with a discordant screech.

For one fleeting second, he regretted not changing into the boxing shoes he had worn at the gym.

Still, discarding his suit jacket allowed his fist to snap forward with far greater freedom. Condensed power surged from his latissimus dorsi through his shoulder, upper arm, forearm, and wrist before driving directly into his target.

His pectoralis major and minor drew the strike back with equal speed.

The moment Jaeha expelled a sharp breath, his opponent’s eyes rolled upward and his body collapsed.

“This bastard!”

Seeing three of their companions fall in rapid succession, the others grew visibly agitated.

They had followed him from the boxing gym, yet they had apparently dismissed Lee Jaeha’s training as nothing more than the vanity project of a wealthy heir.

Lee Jaeha had never been capable of doing anything halfheartedly. Once he committed himself to something, he pursued it with relentless intensity until he collapsed.

Whether it was studying, business, swimming, or boxing, he simply lacked the ability to recognize when to stop.

That was precisely why he performed above average in nearly everything he attempted.

The only problem was that lately, every ounce of that merciless focus had been directed toward Jang Taegeon.

The emotions he should have restrained, lest he descend into madness or make himself appear pathetic, had finally breached their banks. The obsessive tendency to fixate on a single person could hardly be called a virtue in love.

In boxing, however, that same tunnel vision proved exquisitely useful. At least now, in the heat of a real fight, he could put it to practical use.

“You idiots! What the fuck are you holding those bats for? Hit him already! Hurry up!”

One of the thugs apparently possessed a small measure of intelligence, even if he lacked courage. He was the only one shouting anything sensible.

The others had frozen after watching three of their companions fall one after another. His yell reminded them that they were still a group facing a single man, and they tightened their grips around the bats.

A bat descending toward Jaeha could never match the speed of a professional fighter’s fist.

Pivoting from his waist, Jaeha surged upward. His arm snapped out in a blur and struck the man squarely in the mandible.

A blow concentrated against one side of the jaw joint could partially dislocate the bone and induce immediate, disorienting dizziness. For the moment, Lee Jaeha intended to rely almost exclusively on that technique. It was the fastest way to render his opponents unconscious.

The owner of his gym, a former boxing champion, had once encouraged him to train with a Muay Thai fighter and adopt the discipline. Jaeha eventually abandoned it because the style never suited his temperament as naturally as boxing did. The etiquette and structure of the ring aligned more closely with his personality.

Still, the few months he had spent training proved useful when instinct took control in the midst of a life-or-death struggle. He shattered the first man’s jaw, pivoted sharply, and drove a stamping kick into another attacker’s collarbone.

A sickening crack echoed through the air.

The man collapsed, unconscious before he struck the pavement.

“Ah, fuck! What the hell?”

The attackers, their numbers now reduced to single digits, clutched their bats with renewed desperation. They had gravely underestimated him, dismissing him as nothing more than the pampered heir of a corporate dynasty.

Their arrogance had become a suit of armor for Jaeha. He only needed to thin their numbers, and he needed to do it quickly.

Jaeha resumed his boxing footwork.

When two men attempted to flank him, he pivoted and unleashed a backward kick. Using the advantage of his height, he struck the vulnerable point between the neck and collarbone.

“Ugh!”

Some collapsed with guttural cries, while others dropped soundlessly, limp as sacks of flour.

He dispatched four more in the space of a heartbeat.

In the distance, the faint wail of sirens began to seep into the night.

The remaining men grew frantic, their knuckles white around the handles of their bats.

Jaeha glanced toward his brother and saw Jaeho rummaging through the unconscious Mo Jeong-gil’s jacket.

The moment Jaeho pulled out a phone, Jaeha drove another punch into the jaw of an approaching thug and recovered his balance. Then he saw a figure creeping up behind Jaeho, an aluminum bat raised high for a crushing blow. Lee Jaeho was utterly absorbed in trying to unlock the phone and appeared completely unaware of the predator looming over him.

Jaeha’s jaw clenched.

He bolted toward them.

His body would reach Jaeho faster than any shouted warning, and he did not hesitate for even a fraction of a second.

The bat plunged toward Lee Jaeho’s head.

Acting on desperate reflex, Jaeha threw his arms around both Mo Jeong-gil and Jaeho, shielding them with his body.

A sickening crack rang through him.

The sound felt strangely alien, as though he had somehow absorbed the impact of another person’s breaking bone.

“Hyung!”

Even then, it felt irritatingly familiar that Jaeho only called him ‘hyung’ when the situation had become dire.

Before the heavy, crushing wave of pain could fully settle over him, Lee Jaeha slipped into unconsciousness.

***