Chapter 19

Choi Yook dismissed the suggestion with absolute certainty.

―“I told you back when we repaired his smashed window,” Choi Yook reminded him coldly. “Stick an amateur tracker on him, and he’ll only use it to pull something even more bizarre. Just bring me what I ordered.”

―“Understood, Section Chief,” Han Seo-yoon replied deferentially.

―“Sijin hasn’t gone there recently, has he?” Choi Yook probed. “Or Mother?”

―“No, sir. Had they visited, I believe you would have received word.”

―“Right. That’s settled, then,” Choi Yook concluded.

Before long, the call clicked off.

Mu-yeong reflected on his medical history. Having suffered frequent illnesses and accidents since childhood, he had indeed frequented hospitals quite a bit. Even so, he had generally preferred treating his injuries on his own whenever possible. Even after being beaten bloody by Choi Sijin, he hadn’t gone near a hospital.

It wasn’t out of an impulse to save money. Rather, visiting a hospital was far more inconvenient and distressing than walking into a café or restaurant lacking self-order kiosks.

Doctors bypassing only his bed during ward rounds; nurses forgetting to detach his empty IV drip; and worst of all, meal trays arriving for every patient except him. In a barbecue restaurant, he could at least shout at the top of his lungs, but in a six-person hospital room where everyone was groaning in sickness, causing a commotion felt like a nuisance.

Since he couldn’t stop them from digging into his private records anyway, there was no point dwelling on it. More importantly, what on earth was “that place” Choi Yook suspected him of being connected to?

It seemed to be a location connected to Choi Sijin and Kim Jeong-seon as well, yet he couldn’t fathom what it might be. Opening the GPS tracking app, Mu-yeong checked the single signal transmitter attached to Choi Sijin.

Going to Choi Sijin right now… was far too dangerous. In exchange for not planting a tail on Mu-yeong, Choi Yook was surely maintaining an ironclad guard around Sijin.

Then I’ll just go to Kim Jeong-seon.

Mu-yeong turned the key. Soon, the black Carnival rattled into gear and pulled away from the Han River park engulfed in swirling cherry blossoms.

Mu-yeong headed straight for Choi Sijin’s family estate in Hannam-dong. Parking at a distance, he walked toward the residence until an ivory wall, rising high and solid as a mountain fortress, dominated his vision. Lightly textured and devoid of ledges, the sheer barrier offered no handholds whatsoever to scale.

Mu-yeong leaned quietly against the space between the garage door and the main gate. After roughly two hours of waiting, a white Audi approached, and the garage shutter rolled open.

Mu-yeong slipped inside. Before long, the engine cut out, and a middle-aged chauffeur stepped out to open the rear passenger door. Pristine white sneakers carefully set foot onto the pavement.

Tailored cotton trousers paired with a soft beige knit sweater, her only accessory a simple wedding band. Long hair flowed naturally down her shoulders, and subtle makeup accentuated the rounded contour of her eyes. It was Kim Jeong-seon.

Perhaps due to her casual attire, or perhaps because she had led an untroubled life of luxury, the passage of time had left virtually no mark upon her. She looked as though she were the very Kim Jeong-seon who had just returned home after setting fire to the shaman’s shrine in Mangcheon.

Carrying a canvas tote, Kim Jeong-seon strolled past Mu-yeong’s eyes. A crisp scent of soap laced with fresh floral notes brushed the tip of his nose. Tucking her long hair behind an ear, she paused by the side mirror and turned back toward the chauffeur.

“Will you be alright handling that alone?” she inquired gently.

The chauffeur was leaning deep into the backseat. Pulling himself out, he cradled a bulky mass swaddled in thick towels. Noting the strained tension locking his jaw, Kim Jeong-seon smiled apologetically.

Kim Jeong-seon looked at him with genuine sympathy. “It’s far too heavy, isn’t it?”

“Not at all, ma’am,” the driver replied promptly. “I have it,” he insisted, hoisting the load.

“What if you throw out your back?” A worried frown touched her features. “I should have called down someone from the main house.”

Pressing the intercom to relay an instruction, Kim Jeong-seon ascended the staircase connecting the garage to the residence. Mu-yeong silently shadowed behind the pair.

Emerging from the basement, a lush green lawn unfurled before his eyes—meticulously manicured like a private golf green where not even a single dandelion was permitted to take root. Beyond the peony blossoms bordering the perimeter, several large dogs bounded forward. The hounds crowded around Kim Jeong-seon, jostling against her legs and wagging their tails in fervent greeting.

This was an unwelcome omen. To Mu-yeong, beasts—especially dogs fiercely loyal to their masters and hostile toward outsiders—felt like natural predators.

Even without the scent of cigarettes, perfume, or scented lotion, the acute instincts of animals were impossible to deceive. What was worse, this was a freshly manicured lawn that would register every depression under his boots.

Mu-yeong remained glued to the tiled landing by the stairs, unable to step onto the grass. As he checked the way down to ensure an immediate escape route, Kim Jeong-seon bent down with a luminous smile, stroking the dogs’ heads.

“How have my Heendoongi, Nuri, and Kkamangi been?” Kim Jeong-seon crooned, nuzzling them. “We have a new friend with us today. Aren’t you happy, too?”

While the dogs barked excitedly as if in answer, a middle-aged woman emerged from inside the main residence. She presented Kim Jeong-seon with a glass of iced water resting on a silver tray.

“Madam, you must be exhausted,” the housekeeper greeted warmly.

Sipping the iced water, Kim Jeong-seon let out a soft sigh, her face clouded with concern.

“Not at all. Going there after so long just broke my heart even more,” she murmured, shaking her head. “Seeing all those dogs wagging their tails through the cramped iron bars the moment they saw me… Ah, Ms. Yeong-hee, did you buy the beef?”

“Yes, I boiled the sirloin already. Shall I serve it now?” the housekeeper asked.

“Not right now—once he adjusts a little more,” Kim Jeong-seon replied softly. “The poor thing is so timid. I expect it’ll take quite a while to get him ready for adoption.”

Kim Jeong-seon carefully lifted the towel draped over the crate the driver had set down. What emerged was a plastic travel kennel sized for a large dog. Peering inside, she coaxed the frightened animal within.

“Jeombak-ah, are you all right?” she murmured coaxingly. “You didn’t get carsick, did you?”

While she spoke in gentle tones, the other dogs whined and squirmed, vying for even a shred of her attention. Failing to win any notice, one of the white dogs turned his head—and suddenly froze, his gaze locking onto the corner where Seo Mu-yeong stood.

The white dog’s gaze prowled across the stone boundary wall and the staircase. His moist black nose twitched conspicuously.

Mu-yeong held his breath, freezing solid. But his stillness proved useless; peeling his haunches away from Kim Jeong-seon’s side, the dog rose to his feet.

Clamping a hand over his nose and mouth, Mu-yeong took a slow, deliberate step backward. Padding across the lawn, the dog closed the distance without making a sound. What if he lunges at me like prey? Just as Mu-yeong flattened himself against the handrail and set one foot onto the steps—

The white dog coiled and sprang like a released spring, hurtling straight at him.

To avoid drawing human attention to his presence, he had to take the fall without resisting. Yet just as Mu-yeong gripped the railing and leaned back to absorb the impact, the dog landed firmly on the paving stones, burying his snout directly against Mu-yeong’s sneaker.

Whimper.

The dog let out a timid whine. His broad nostrils flared and twitched, snuffling all over the canvas sneaker. Only then did a quiet yet piercing realization strike Mu-yeong as to the cause of this entire predicament.

Ah. The hot dog.

Recalling the faint yet tantalizing scent that his wet wipes had failed to completely erase, Mu-yeong remained frozen in place. As long as the dog turned back empty-handed without raising a fuss, everything would be fine. The dog might feel a little cheated and Mu-yeong a little weary, but it would be an amicable enough parting.

Yet Kim Jeong-seon was an exceptionally attentive owner. Even while looking after the newcomer, she spotted her dog lingering off on his own and turned toward him.

“Heendoong-ah, what is it?” she called out gently. “Is there something over there?”

Straightening up, she took light, breezy steps toward them. Mu-yeong desperately wanted to bolt, but the only thing racing was his heart.

With his back to Kim Jeong-seon, the dog ran his long tongue over Mu-yeong’s sneaker. Every single sense felt simultaneously distant and acutely sharp.

The crisp rustle of blades of grass beneath footfalls, the blazing midday sun beating down, a pair of wings buzzing around the peonies—a bee.

A single pair?

Keeping his feet glued to the ground, Mu-yeong stretched his arm out as far as it would reach. Then, with pinpoint precision, he pinched the wings of the tiny insect perching on the pistil, its abdomen thrust out.

Kim Jeong-seon was now barely two meters away. A mere three paces—well within range for anyone to plainly sense something out of place.

Mu-yeong flicked the off-balance, wobbling insect right before the dog’s snout. Instantly reacting to the movement, the dog hopped up in pursuit. Behind him, Kim Jeong-seon recoiled in horror, jumping back in a frantic panic.

“Good heavens, a bee! Driver, please get rid of it! Did the poor thing get stung? What should I do? Don’t we have any insecticide?”

Amidst the commotion, Mu-yeong slipped swiftly down toward the garage. The insect he had snatched was no bee, but a hoverfly—a stingless creature that mimicked a bee, though a closer inspection revealed the compound eyes of a fly.

Mu-yeong was adept at telling harmless bugs apart from dangerous ones. Back when he lived in Mangcheon without a single toy to his name, his amusements within that confined space had been severely limited. Whatever he had learned through trial and error, his hyung had reinforced by pointing through reference books.

“I won’t tell you not to catch them, so just make sure you only catch the safe ones.”

When Mu-yeong had held out his hand after a katydid bit him, his hyung pulled out a dog-eared insect guidebook to explain and give firm instructions. Far more than the clear information, Mu-yeong loved the sound of that voice teaching him. Even if having to write down each bug’s name and traits three times in a notebook—because his hyung insisted he commit them to memory—had been a bit painful.

The Audi loaded with the kennel carrying the white dog rolled out of the garage. Mu-yeong walked slowly down the slope behind it.

Where on earth is this ‘place’ Choi Yook mentioned? Seeing how frequently Kim Jeong-seon went there, could it really be an animal shelter? Did she nag her sons to go volunteer or take in a dog every time she came back?

If so, suspecting that he had some connection to that place… did Choi Yook fear he might approach Choi Sijin disguised as a well-meaning volunteer?

Even if Choi Sijin visited a shelter, what would Mu-yeong gain by tailing him there? It wasn’t as if he intended to snap heartwarming photos with rescue dogs to fabricate flattering publicity for the idol. Unless he were a genuine fan of Choi Sijin, such information was utterly useless.

Losing interest, Mu-yeong climbed into his parked van. It was peak season, packed with spring flower festivals. Having made productive use of his spare time, it was now time to get back to work.