Chapter 174
Chapter 174
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 174
Chapter Title: The Old Fox and the Young Tiger.
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I quietly watched from inside my car as Han Yura's vehicle glided out of the parking lot.
Under the dim streetlight, I caught a glimpse of the back seat, still bearing traces of what had just happened.
'Double Dragon—that too, give it to me.'
I let out a scoffing laugh, utterly dumbfounded.
But that laughter wasn't laced with anger—it was mixed with satisfaction.
A woman needed that kind of greed and guts to claim the seat beside me.
As I watched the taillights of her fading car, a comment Chae-won had made offhand a few days ago came to mind.
'Yura seems a bit anxious since I got pregnant... Take good care of her.'
Recalling those words, I muttered softly to myself.
"Anxious, huh..."
That idiot bitch—did she still not get me?
I'm not the type who can just 'discard' someone.
Whether it was trauma from the orphanage days or whatever...
Fuck it.
I didn't even know the reason myself, but at my core, I was a 'soft-hearted sucker.'
I couldn't let go first, not even if they dumped me—no, even if they did.
So what the hell was she anxious about?
Her position?
Fuck...
The same bitch who'd sworn up and down she hated the idea of 'pregnancy' and force-fed herself birth control pills out of sheer greed, now throwing a fit over this?
I shook my head and stepped out of the car.
My time was far too valuable to waste puzzling over some incomprehensible woman's heart.
I pulled a cigarette from my pocket and stuck it between my lips.
Click.
The lighter's tiny flame briefly illuminated my face in the darkness.
I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with smoke that then scattered into the night air.
As I smoked, I replayed the story of Cheon Myeong-hwan that Han Yura had just told me.
'Procedural legitimacy and regulations.'
At first, I'd dismissed it as an old man's tedious nagging or a futile attempt to trip me up.
I was legally airtight, after all.
But as I gathered my scattering thoughts like cigarette smoke, the old man's true intentions sharpened into focus.
His goal wasn't to send me to prison.
He knew better than anyone that wasn't possible...
No, his real target was my 'time' and 'resources.'
He wanted to force me to waste the time I needed for M&A prep and planning my next venture on pointless paperwork and explanations.
To tie me down right here, unable to budge.
"Ha..."
I tossed the stub of my cigarette to the ground and ground it out with my shoe.
"That vicious old bastard."
In the end, all that talk at the noodle shop about handing over his daughter and 'Taesung' while sitting across from me—it had all been bullshit from the start.
The old man had never intended to let go of Taesung in the first place.
He'd played the part of an old king obsessed with honor...
But in truth, he was just another merchant like me, one who'd sold his soul for profit.
So Cheon Hye-yeon, that 'daughter' of his, was just discardable bait...
Then who was the real one?
A name flashed through my mind like lightning.
The name Cheon Hye-yeon had spat out in her despair.
...Park Sunwoo?
In that instant, every puzzle piece snapped into place with a click.
The proposal the old man had made at the noodle shop.
Marry his daughter and inherit Taesung—that outrageous offer's true meaning.
It wasn't recognition or a deal directed at me.
'I'll throw my daughter out as bait—will you bite?' It was a test, a ploy to gauge the size of my vessel.
Like keeping your most prized sword sheathed and drawing a disposable one first to test the enemy's strength.
That was merchant basics.
Cheon Hye-yeon.
She was Taesung's princess, its sharpest spear.
But she was also a 'disposable attack piece' to throw onto the battlefield, one that could break without consequence.
And when forging peace with a strong foe like me, she was a 'strategic broodmare' to offer up at any time.
The real treasure? You hide it in the deepest shadows, away from prying eyes.
Even going so far as to give it a different surname to erase its existence.
The true heir to the throne Cheon Myeong-hwan really wanted to protect.
His greatest weakness, his most fatal Achilles' heel.
I let out a hollow chuckle.
Finally, I'd pinpointed the old fox's heart.
"Park Sunwoo..."
I murmured the name softly.
The theory was complete.
Now I needed the 'facts' to back it up.
To confirm, I pulled out my phone again and called Park Sojin.
[Yes, President. I've got your call.]
"Yeah, Sojin. Dig anything on Park Sunwoo?"
[Yes, I just finished compiling it. I was pulling up to the clinic when...]
As Park Sojin's voice trailed off over the line, bright headlights swept across me from the parking lot entrance.
I narrowed my eyes and looked over.
A sleek black sedan slid smoothly to a stop in front of me.
Park Sojin stepped out from the driver's seat, approached, and bowed politely.
"I figured there was too much to report, so I came in person."
In her hand was Pandora's box, labeled 'Park Sunwoo.'
As the back door of Park Sojin's black sedan closed, all outside noise cut off.
The cramped space filled only with her ragged breathing and my silence.
As if by ritual, she hiked up her black suit skirt to her waist without hesitation.
Her sheer black stockings and panties beneath slid off in seconds under expert hands.
Faint moonlight filtered through the window, illuminating her pale skin in the shadows.
I watched her every move in silence, arms crossed.
To Park Sojin, this wasn't play or pleasure.
She was proving her loyalty and beginning her report in the most efficient, primal way.
Finally, she bent at the waist and knelt before my lap.
Her jet-black hair cascaded down, tickling my pants.
The zipper's metallic rasp cut sharply through the air.
The moment it sprang free, her hot, wet tongue latched on without restraint.
Traces of my wild ride inside Han Yura just moments ago—
Her fluids mixed with mine, crusted stickily along the shaft—Park Sojin licked and sucked it clean without a hint of hesitation.
Another female's scent.
She wasn't oblivious; if anything, it drove her to cover it obsessively with her own mark.
Assaulted fiercely in her mouth, my cock swelled rock-hard in seconds, battle-ready once more.
Deeming it sufficient, Park Sojin rose slowly.
She straddled me facing forward, leaning back against the seat.
The cool touch of her ass on my thighs sent a chill.
She gripped my rigid length with both hands.
Aligning it, she pressed it to her secret entrance.
She drew a sharp breath.
Her slick folds slurped greedily around my tip with a wet schlick.
Using her weight, she lowered millimeter by millimeter, agonizingly slow.
The tight, sticky friction of flesh yielding filled the car.
When her scorching walls clenched and swallowed me to the hilt, a low moan escaped her lips.
"Haa..."
Bracing on my shoulders, she paused, locking eyes with me.
Even in the dark, her gaze gleamed cold.
With my cock buried deep inside her,
She began her report in a slightly husky but steady voice.
"Reporting... now..."
As she spoke, a subtle twist of her hips ground against me inside.
A short moan slipped out, but she pressed on undeterred.
"Park Sunwoo. Age 32. Mother: the late Seo Ji-yoon, Cheon Myeong-hwan's secretary 33 years ago. Current residence: rundown multi-family home in Mapo-gu, Seoul. Occupation: part-time lecturer at a private university, specializing in modern Korean history. Monthly income around 2.4 million won. Primary bank: Shinhan, balance under 1 million. Socially harmonious but avoids deep ties; sole hobby: weekend hiking."
Park Sojin recited everything I'd ordered without pause.
Personal details, finances, relationships—even his movements over the past week.
The info pouring from her lips painted the dull, boring life of an utterly average man.
Were it not for her rhythmic hip sways, I'd have dozed off.
I listened in silence.
Amid this tedious litany of facts, the shards of truth I sought began emerging one by one.
"...The key difference from the other two illegitimate children is clear. They wallow in vast wealth, but Park Sunwoo receives only minimal living expenses via 'anonymous donations.' And finally, the notable point."
Like turning the last page, she moved to the clincher.
At that moment, I gripped her waist hard, halting her.
I felt her body tense around me.
"Hold on."
I cut her off in a low voice.
"Cheon Hye-yeon clearly said Park Sunwoo was Cheon Myeong-hwan's most cherished child?"
My question was a finishing shot.
The gap between what I'd gleaned from Cheon Hye-yeon and Park Sojin's objective data.
The old fox's true intentions hid in that discrepancy.
Park Sojin didn't flinch; she grasped the point and replied calmly.
Her hips resumed their faint motion, teasing me inside.
"They meet privately often. No stock or share ties, though."
Bingo.
I cheered inwardly.
Every piece fell into place.
No official links whatsoever.
No wealth, stocks, nothing. So Park Sunwoo posed no threat to anyone in Taesung Group.
But unofficially, more affection and meetings than anyone.
This was Cheon Myeong-hwan's way.
The perfect, ruthless camouflage to shield his true heir from the bloody throne games.
A ghost in the records, schooled privately in emperor's arts.
I let out another hollow chuckle.
"So the daughter's just cannon fodder while he babies the son, huh? Should I report that shit to the feminists, fuck?"
Even at my crude joke, Park Sojin remained impassive, focused on her duty.
She rocked her hips steadily atop me, caught her breath, and asked,
"What now?"
"You had the thugs dig into his background too?"
I checked—just in case—about the street-level sweep beyond her official networks.
Drugs, gambling, women, assaults...
The usual dirt on chaebol bastards; hoping for some rot.
"Nothing."
Her answer was firm.
I muttered as if I'd expected it.
"Figured as much..."
Cheon Myeong-hwan had nipped even the chance of 'playboy chaebol heir' scandals in the bud.
Of course.
No money meant no mischief.
A man with no cash for drugs, gambling sprees, or hoes.
By locking his son in poverty, he'd paradoxically made him the cleanest, scandal-proof being imaginable.
Then, when ready, pull him into the company—from employee to chairman.
A flawless myth.
Perfect.
The old fox's plan was impeccable.
Now, I had to figure out how to shatter this flawless porcelain with the loudest crash imaginable.
I pinned Park Sojin's waist and thrust up deep and hard one last time.
Her moan scorched the air inside the car.
After unleashing everything, I whispered coldly in her ear.
"No need for us to step in directly yet."
"...Pardon?"
"Gonna toss some prime bait to the loudest megaphones in the world."
"Contact the press?"
I snorted at Park Sojin's suggestion.
Trust reporters in Korea?
"You think those dogs'll run stories against big corps?"
"Prep BJ Khan?"
The guy had reach better than some no-name net rags.
But this needed a bigger stage.
Dirtier, more uncontrollable flames.
"Nah."
I gazed into the darkness outside, a cruel smile curling my lips.
"Reach out to the unions."
"Taesung Group unions, sir?"
"Yeah, affiliates don't matter. The most hardline bastards."
Fuck, time the old man tasted some real 'struggle.'