Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: My Best Friend
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The one friend who approached me first with a friendly smile when I had no friends at all: Seong-ho.
It was back in high school.
During those endless monsoon days that wouldn't let up.
The cafeteria drain pipe burst, forcing us to bring bentos for about a week.
Mom had to head out early to her restaurant job, and she'd press a crumpled 1,000-won bill into my hand, full of apologies.
"It's fine, Mom. I've got some money saved."
Like hell I did.
All I had in my pocket were two 100-won coins.
I'd just lied to spare my parents—what little burden I could.
As lunchtime neared, anxiety gnawed at me.
The other kids would share side dishes from their bentos, while I'd just stand there staring blankly.
Should I head to the rooftop?
Or pretend to hit the snack bar and kill time on the bleachers in the school field?
As those worries piled up, one friend reached out a hand.
That guy was Park Seong-ho.
"Hey, eat this."
"Huh? Why me...?"
"You didn't bring lunch, right? You've been glancing around like crazy. Just take it."
"What about you, Seong-ho?"
"Grabbed a burger at the snack bar during break. Feels like food poisoning now."
I knew the truth.
That guy's appetite was legendary...
As the class outcast, I had the full scoop on classroom drama. Seong-ho was the one sneaking bites from everyone's sides.
No way he'd skip a meal over a stomachache.
He'd eat first, puke or shit later.
"......"
Tears welled up, blurring my sight.
Park Seong-ho gave me a look like I was nuts and patted my shoulder gently.
"Your family's in a tough spot, huh?"
"!"
"Fuck it, so what? Think the world's all rich folks? My family's broke as hell too. Dad staggers home drunk every night. Bet he's getting chewed out at work."
Come to think of it, Seong-ho's dad worked at a small trucking firm.
Clients barking orders daily.
Do this, do that.
Must've been a madhouse.
"...Can I really eat it?"
"Just eat the damn thing. Might spend class shuttling to the john otherwise."
"Thanks..."
"Tch, that's what friends are for. Helping each other out."
"......"
"Hang in there. And rub your mom's shoulders more often."
My best friend, nothing but good memories.
And now, that same Park Seong-ho sat in a bar, knocking back shots nonstop.
I didn't know the girlfriend, but kicking a loyal, solid guy to the curb? One reason only.
Cheating.
The classic "shoes on backward."
I bit my lip hard.
Unlike the old days, I had cash now. Not billions—trillions.
"Seong-ho, get a grip."
"Sorry... I'm so sorry... Can't you forgive me just once?"
Drunk off his ass, spouting nonsense.
I settled the bill and slung him over one shoulder. Taller than me, he was no lightweight.
But worth every hassle.
Dumped him in the Cullinan's back seat and grabbed my phone.
"Yun-ah, friend's crashing overnight. Prep a room."
"Got it, sir. Hangover remedies for breakfast?"
Yeah, smart call.
Might hear screams echoing through the house come morning.
"Yes, that'd be perfect."
The madman downed fifteen bottles of soju.
Insane.
Deadly tolerance. We'd drunk together before; he maxed at five.
Fifteen meant heartbreak that deep.
'Sigh... Love's no joke.'
No experience myself, but I felt it.
Over four years together. Marriage talks, dreaming of their place.
Home sweet home, Im Yun-ah waited, popped the back door, and hoisted him like a ragdoll.
"......"
Ex-USSOCOM.
Forgot.
World's top military. Special ops vet Im Yun-ah's strength shamed men. US equality—no gender bias.
Not regular army or Marines.
Special forces survivor? Nuff said.
"I'll get your friend settled."
"Thanks."
She bowed and vanished.
I hit the kitchen, chugged cold water.
11:30 p.m. Bedtime.
Rocking chair ritual: phone for US news.
[Selig market cap breaks 60 billion dollars. Experts baffled on the ceiling...] [Retail investors worldwide go all-in on Selig, chasing millionaire dreams.] [Selig CEO Jin Seol-hwa to build factories in 37 countries: Korea, Japan, Vietnam, UK, France, China...] [Foreign Ministry welcomes potential visit from Jin Seol-hwa...] All Selig buzz.
60 billion bucks? Roughly 79 trillion won.
Unfathomable fortune.
Not all mine, of course. Tens of billions liquid, tops.
Luckily, full ownership. One word from me flips control overnight.
'No such plans...'
Why mess with a winner?
Glanced toward Seong-ho's room.
Yun-ah long back on duty post-task. Under three hours sleep, first up.
Human weapon.
'Why the breakup?'
Tough ask, even for friends. Prying's rude.
But same company, yeah?
Office romance.
Companies ban 'em.
Distracts work.
Bosses dread flings— one gripe snowballs.
'Hope no mess...'
If he's cornered, drastic measures. Resentment be damned.
Deserve happiness.
High school debt due.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Ungh..."
Park Seong-ho woke to a skull-splitting headache. Blinking blearily: soaring ceiling out of reach, luxury furnishings, king bed screaming tens of millions won.
Studio life: mattress only.
300k monthly? Studio stretched him thin.
"Where the hell...?"
Turned: memo and sweet honey water.
[Seong-ho, work calls—heading out. Heavy night, had to bring you home. Work today? Whatever, chin up! -Do-jun]
Heh.
That sloshed?
Out for prep—what the—?
Palace living room. No apartment; carpeted stairs plunged down, crystal rail gleaming.
Extravagance peak.
"......"
Do-jun's pad? Hundreds of billions easy.
Downstairs cautious: breakfast spread on modest table.
For him.
Clothes worry solved—suit too. Masterminded.
Play money...
Hangover fix: cod bean sprout soup, condiments galore. Rice: health mix, brown and black. Every detail screamed care.
"......"
Tears hit mid-bite.
Blessed with one true friend.
Curious, though.
'What does Do-jun do for this cash?'
Reunion: jobless. Didn't add up.
Belly full, suited up—perfect, mid-tier luxury.
User-friendly pro.
"Housekeeper?"
Irrelevant. Work first.
Taxi to office. Outlook bleak.
Same company as ex.
Four-year run to marriage—poof.
'Talk it out.'
Self-blame; reconcile urge.
Office wander: her giggling in lounge.
"Mi-jeong..."
Ignored.
"Talk? Please..."
"Sigh, fine. Back soon."
Colleagues waved; rooftop bound.
Less eyes.
Kneel instant.
"Mi-jeong, rethink—we're marrying soon. I'll step up... one shot?"
"And then?"
"...Huh?"
"Honeymoon when?"
"House first, then..."
"What? Others hit Dubai! Yeon-mi, Yu-na's guys roll up in imports post-work... Me?"
"......"
"They grill me: car? Trip? Seoul pad? Allowance? Killing me!"
"......"
"New guy. Like him."
Bolt from blue.
New dude, days later.
Unfair? His inadequacy root.
"True care? Let go. Hate scraping by."
She turned, left him.
"Kuh!"
Fist shook violent.
Panic grip; breath failed.
'Mi-jeong...'
No claim on soulmate.
Grind max: 300k. No Seoul nest, no import ride.
"......"
Time ticked; light faded from eyes.