Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Hey, dammit! Put out that cigarette!”

Across from the dilapidated convenience store, a group of burly men, all with cigarettes dangling from their lips, quickly flicked them onto the ground. They crushed the butts under their heels, then kicked the remnants to the shoulder of the road, hastily straightening their clothes.

Meanwhile, a black sedan glided to a stop beside them.

“Welcome, CEO!”

The men in black suits, hastily lining up, bowed in unison toward the passenger-side door. Just moments before, they had been trading casual jokes, but now they stood at rigid attention.

A man, the one who commanded such deference, stepped out of the car.

“A lot of trouble for you all, bright and early.”

Kim Sewon offered a perfunctory greeting to the bowed heads before him. As he spoke, he pulled a cigarette pack from his unbuttoned jacket and took a long cigarette between his lips. Ting. As his thumb hovered over the wheel of his opened Zippo lighter, a cheap lighter next to him sparked first.

Sewon gazed at the words ‘Me Too Cafe’ printed on the red lighter, then shifted his eyes slightly.

“Some habits just die hard, Sangcheol.”

His words were half-muffled around the cigarette, making them sound all the more menacing. Sangcheol, hunched over beside Sewon, flinched at his tone and quickly pulled back the lighter he had instinctively offered.

“S-sorry, sir. CEO.”

Even his groveling seemed remarkably “dog-like.” Sewon narrowed his brows, bringing the flame from his own lighter to the tip of his cigarette.

He watched the embers flicker as the cigarette caught fire, then raised his head. Through the hazy smoke, a chaotic landscape came into view.

“There’s no progress here. What a mess.”

Redevelopment projects always seemed to drag on, but it had been ages since the excavators first moved in, and nothing had changed in the slightest.

Was there an issue with the project’s progress, or was his own impatience to clear out Geumnakri the problem? Sewon took another drag from his cigarette.

Just then, Sangcheol looked up sharply, pointing a finger toward the residential area on their left.

“There are still a few holdouts, so we’ll just put up a fence all around the area by the end of this week, sir.”

Sewon exhaled a plume of acrid smoke from his nose and mouth, his expression grim. But Sangcheol, solely focused on making up for his earlier mistake, failed to notice his CEO’s mood and eagerly rattled off his plan.

“Well, there might be some resident resistance, but we can just say it’s due to demolition dust, can’t we, sir? H-ah, no. CEO.”

It was a long-winded way of saying they would make things hell for the residents, trapping them without a path forward. Sewon pressed his fingertips, still holding the cigarette, against his throbbing temple.

“Don’t you know about… housing rights infringement?”

“Excuse me? W-what infringement?”

Sangcheol’s eyes darted around, hearing a term he’d never encountered. He normally detested being ignored, but at this moment, he would have welcomed even his subordinates to explain it to him. Yet, everyone who met his gaze simply lowered their heads.

Instead, Sewon casually slipped one hand into his pants pocket and turned back.

“If you work like that these days, you’ll end up on the news, Section Chief Yeom Sangcheol.”

“S-sorry! I’ll correct it immediately!”

Sewon had no more use for Sangcheol, who was already bowing from the waist. He subtly flicked a finger toward Hakju, who stood a step behind him.

“Get rid of him.”

“Yes, CEO.”

Sangcheol’s face went pale as Hakju gripped his shoulder. Hakju handed him a thick envelope. Sangcheol, looking dazed, submissively accepted it, then was led away by the very subordinates who had been beneath him just moments before.

Realizing too late that the money was his severance, Sangcheol tried to turn back, but a subordinate firmly seized him.

They yelped under Sangcheol’s weight, then glanced at Sewon before grabbing him again, eventually tumbling together onto the dirt ground.

Watching from afar, it was pure comedy. Hakju, dumbfounded, let out a faint chuckle.

“Amused?”

Just then, a chilling voice pierced him from behind. He instinctively pressed his lips together, turning to see Sewon flicking cigarette ash with a long finger. An ominous aura tightened around Hakju’s throat.

“N-no, sir.”

“This isn’t a game, Hakju. Mess around, and you’ll regret it.”

Sewon leaned against the car, continuing.

“Why would Gangjin be nosing around land that’s already lost its permits if they weren’t up to something?”

The bidding war, with seven construction companies vying for the project, had ended long ago. After a fierce competition, Geumseong Group, led by Sewon’s father, had secured the construction rights, and the project was steadily moving forward, with relocation and demolition now underway.

Given the immense scale of the project, there had been quite a few attempts to derail the construction contract. These were cleared by either offering jewels or, at times, cutting off those hands, but a truly troublesome opponent remained.

Gangjin Group. The competitor, who had been observing from a distance, was finally making its move.

“It’s 2,900 households, with construction costs alone topping a trillion won. This land, right next to a super high-rise mixed-use complex, will have a 200,000-pyeong Korean forest and even a highway going through it in a few years.”

Gangjin certainly wouldn’t give up such prime land, whose value would skyrocket, so easily. Nor would that bastard who still thought Geumseong, and he himself, were just dogs sucking on others’ scraps.

“What a headache.”

Sewon scanned the bright red banner that read ‘Oppose Demolition’ on the utility pole nearby, clicking his tongue briefly before adding,

“At any rate, Gangjin won’t just stand by, not with investors who poured their precious assets into their bluff.”

“Speaking of which, I heard Director Ha Hyeonsu personally visited a law office recently. What do you think he’s planning?”

Sewon took a final drag, tossing the filter-worn cigarette butt onto the dirt.

“Keep a close eye on it.”

Then, he lightly gestured with his chin toward Sangcheol’s group, who were still scuffling.

“It would be quite a sight if we lost it because of people like them, wouldn’t it?”

“I’ll filter out everything to prevent any noise and sort it out.”

Hakju nodded, as if understanding. Only then did Sewon’s lips curve into a smooth smile.

“Let’s pay attention. Don’t cook up a feast just to feed it to the dogs.”

Sewon clapped Hakju’s tense shoulder as he passed, then abruptly stopped.

His eyes had unknowingly landed on a woman.

A woman who shouldn’t have been here, right before his eyes.

“Why is she here…?”

Sewon muttered in disbelief, staring at the woman’s retreating figure as she entered the old convenience store.

It had been 11 years, but she had lived here for three years…

Heejae found herself wandering like a stranger, which struck her as so absurd she laughed.

After seeing the large zelkova tree three times, she decided there was no point in looking around anymore. Finally, she slowly pulled her car to a stop in front of ‘Dong-a Super,’ right next to the zelkova tree.

Were they even still in business?

She rolled down the passenger window and craned her neck out, but the tacky checkerboard tinted glass door was further covered by a red sheet marked “Cigarettes,” making it impossible to see inside the store.

Heejae, tapping the steering wheel with her index finger, reluctantly opened the car door and got out.

Hesitantly, she carefully pushed open the tightly shut sliding steel door. Fortunately, a familiar voice drifted up from behind the counter.

“Oh, you’re here.”

Heejae walked past the owner, who was busy unpacking boxes, and slowly looked around the store.

She was a bit hungry, but the snacks covered in a thick layer of dust held no appeal. The faded canned drinks were no different. Eventually, she grabbed only a lukewarm bottle of water from the noisy refrigerator and headed to the register.

“Here, one thousand won.”

The owner, who had been stocking cigarettes on a shelf, neatly unfolded a black plastic bag. Heejae handed her the water bottle as she casually moved her hand, then asked,

“Excuse me, could you tell me where the village hall is?”

“The village hall? Oh, that’s going to be demolished soon, what do you need it for…? Heavens! Aren’t you Young-ju’s daughter?”

Only then did the owner look up, her eyes widening as she recognized Heejae.

Ah, the exterior looked old, so she had wondered, but to think it was someone she knew. Heejae, who didn’t remember the woman at all, felt considerably flustered by the situation.

“What was your name again? Hee… Hee…”

The owner furrowed her brow, rummaging through old memories. But it seemed to evade her. Unlike Heejae, she was getting older.

Heejae willingly helped the woman, who was still stuck on ‘Hee.’

“Heejae. Kang Heejae.”

“Yes, Heejae! Kang Heejae! My, it’s been ten years, but you look just like you did as a child. I’m Auntie Bongsoon, don’t you remember me? What brings you here? Is your mother doing well?”

Bongsoon brightened, genuinely pleased, but Heejae, who had no recollection of her, felt even more uncomfortable. It seemed unlikely she would get an answer about the village hall. She offered a silent, awkward smile, then subtly picked up the bag containing her water bottle.

“Please charge me.”

When she handed over her card, Bongsoon pushed it back, saying cards weren’t accepted and telling her to just take it. All the while, Heejae felt a subtle wariness in her gaze. Heejae knew exactly what that look meant.

When she lost her memories 11 years ago, people had looked at her with those very eyes. The police, the teachers who visited her in the hospital, and Ha Hyeonsu, whom she had recently met again—they all looked at her like that.

Eyes that held both suspicion and question.

“Are you perhaps still having memory issues…?”

Just as she expected, an uncomfortable conversation was about to begin. It was at that moment, as Heejae bit down on her molars, that the already fragile steel door burst open with a loud bang.

“Oh, my goodness! You startled me!”

Bongsoon shrieked, jumping in surprise. Heejae squinted slightly against the sudden rush of sunlight.

As she lifted her narrowly opened eyes, a man was stepping through the narrow doorway.

His large frame humorously obscured the door, casting a deep shadow over Heejae’s face.

The glare was gone, but Heejae narrowed her eyes further, trying to discern the man’s shadowed face.

The instant their eyes seemed to meet, an unfamiliar memory crashed into her mind.