The Defiant Heir
Recently, the parents of Lee Seongjin—the precious third-generation sole heir of the Lee family—had been plunged into deep worry. Their one and only son, who from childhood through adulthood and even into his job had never caused a single accident and blindly obeyed every word they said, had suddenly stopped listening to them altogether.
"What the hell are you packing up like that for again?"
Unable to stand it any longer, his father, Lee Seongjun, stared at Lee Seongjin, who was busily preparing something in his room. But Seongjin didn't even pretend to hear, just kept hurriedly stuffing things into his bag—like he was rushing to not be late for an appointment.
"I'm calling you, and now you won't even answer me?!"
In a burst of anger, he yelled, but Lee Seongjun immediately regretted shouting at his son. That kind, innocent-looking boy turned to look at him with an utterly emotionless expression.
"Are you still going on about this? We've already talked it to death."
"You little shit! Talked it to death? You... you... do you even understand what you're doing right now? Quitting your perfectly good job, turning down the prime position we pulled strings for, and not even preparing for some grand future! What the hell are you doing besides wandering around and blowing money like it's nothing?!"
"I've already explained. I'm doing the work I have to do."
Lee Seongjin started stuffing his massive duffel bag full again. Unable to watch, Lee Seongjun pounded his own chest with his fist.
"You bastard! Go get blackout drunk with your friends or go chase some girls! Do you think I'm pissed because you're unemployed?! Live like a human being, damn it—live like a human!"
"Dad. I'm living more humanely than anyone else in this world right now. Unlike our rotten ancestors who sacrificed innocent virgins to lakes to play god and bring fake blessings, or jacking up building rents every year to screw over the poor. I'm spending money where it's truly needed, working hard where I'm needed. Unlike the rest of our family."
"...I know our family isn't clean! I know about what happened with Uncle in Gangwon-do recently! That's why everyone's trying to change now, right? So you need to change too! Get back to normal!"
"I was the abnormal one before. I believed everything you said, aimed for the best schools, the best job, the perfect wife—to be the ideal head of household. But I realized there's no meaning in just walking the rails someone laid out for you. That kind of life is just... empty, isn't it?"
"You little...!"
"I know you can't do shit anyway. You've heard what happens if our family breaks the promise with the boss, right? Just believe in Jesus and go to heaven."
"......"
Shouldering his thick duffel bag, Lee Seongjin brushed past his father toward the entrance. The house was so massive that just crossing the hallway through the living room took a good while. He made eye contact with his mother, who was sighing heavily in the living room, but he quickly resumed walking.
When he'd joined S Electronics, his father had already transferred part of the family fortune to him—commercial buildings and apartments on prime Gangnam land, all in Seongjin's name. There was no way to control him financially now. They could only silently offer up their son.
To that Han Daeri guy or whatever. Was this how Abraham felt, offering his son to God the Father?
"This is the incident site today? Not bad—a decent apartment complex."
"Cut the bullshit and hand it over quick."
I snatched the takeout bag from S-man's hand as we met outside the apartment. Inside were two heavenly-smelling toast sandwiches and iced Americanos each. I tossed one toast and Americano back to him, yanked out mine, and bit in ravenously. I'd skipped lunch messing around at Choi Sangjun's place, so the crispy-outside, moist-inside toast was sweeter than I'd imagined.
No comparison to street vendor crap or those chain store ones everyone knows. This was heavenly.
"Kieeeek! So fucking good! Oi oi, do all Gangnam rich kids eat shit like this every day~ Shweeeee~."
"The boss is devouring his toast."
"While you were chilling at home, I was busting my ass alone, you fucker!"
I ate like a beast, wary of passersby stealing my precious toast. Seriously, I could sell a kidney if it meant eating this daily. How the hell does a mere toast capture the artisan's open-flame BBQ skill, premium natural butter, and that umami-packed bulgogi sauce so vividly?
I chased it with the bitter iced Americano, and my hunger vanished, my dizzy head clearing up. Wiping my hands with a wet wipe, I said,
"Eat while we walk. First off, this job's a bit unusual."
"How so?"
"A demon's involved."
"Different from the usual grab ghosts or evil gods we deal with. I've researched demons, but never seen one in person. Have you, boss?"
"Yeah. It was black."
S-man nodded and took a bite of his toast. Passing women blushed at his model looks.
"Demons are black. Just like I imagined."
"They look black too. Real unoriginal bastards."
Like angels are white.
"Anyway, the clients are Choi Sangjun and Imi Jin. The suspected demon-possessed target is their daughter—the high school lunch lady. Senior year."
"Senior year. Bad timing."
"Yeah, less than two months to college entrance exams. But here's the problem: theoretically tank-level combat power high school girl raided her dad's safe, grabbed 20 million won in cash, and bolted."
"So they can't even exorcise her if they wanted?"
"Nah. She's lived her whole life house-school-academy only. Even if she boldly cracks the safe for 20 mil, where's a kid like that gonna spend it? Rich don't know poor life, poor don't know rich."
"I know it well."
"Then how much is one of these toasts normally?"
"Ten thousand won?"
"Three thousand, asshole. You'd die for real."
Daring to flex on a true commoner-born Han Daeri. I popped the Americano lid and dumped ice into my mouth. The crunch was satisfying—like chewing cold hardtack.
"You know how to handle rich twats. Go up, stall 'em a bit. I've set up cameras, recorder, all that fake ghost-hunting crap—hook up the laptop and watch for poltergeist shit with them."
"Easy enough, but what about you, boss?"
"Gotta find the lunch lady and drag her ass back. Can't exorcise without her."
"You'll need a driver then."
"Didn't say shit earlier, but I can drive."
What kind of able-bodied salesman can't drive? Fucking idiot. I took the pickup truck keys from S-man and, before hopping in, tossed him some advice.
"If you need supernatural backup, call the Mad Woman. She should be back in Seoul by now—phone her and she'll tell you what to do."
"Got it."
"You pack everything I told you?"
"Yes. Nothing missing."
"Unpack it the second you get in. Like I said, just stall till I bring the girl."
"Yes, sir."
Unlike me, S-man breezed past security with just a business card—no temp key needed. Confirming his back, I floored it to the school where the lunch lady supposedly went.
Gangnam schools are huge and flashy thanks to psycho private-ed parents. Naturally full of elite brats and poorly raised beasts drunk on elitism.
I parked in the visitor lot, timed it for lunch rush, and slipped in easy. A few kids spotted me but mostly ignored like a stray cat or gave weird looks. When I found some smart-looking innocents, I asked for the staff room. They looked spooked, thinking I was a cop, and pointed it out.
Why do I always get mistaken for a detective?
BAM!
I kicked open the staff room door, scanning the teachers already done with early lunch. Spotted the one linked to Choi Jiyun and strode over.
"Wh-who the hell are you?! What do you think you're—?!"
"You're Choi Jiyun's homeroom teacher, right? Talk with me. Now. Don't wanna? Too bad. I only had one toast, stomach's glued to my spine."
"You crazy son of a—urk?!"
"Talk or die."
I grabbed the balding middle-aged teacher's collar and slammed him face-down on the desk. Screams erupted from the other staff. Someone frantically called the cops, but I didn't give a fuck.
"Oh, nice conversation tool here."
I pulled a cutter knife, slid out the blade with a shink, and pressed it to his neck.
"One swipe won't kill ya, but it'll hurt like hell. Bleed a bit too."
"Wh-what the fuck are you—?!"
"Just talk, man? We're civilized. Don't wanna?"
"Fine! I'll talk! Let go first!!!"
"Shoulda said that sooner."
I chucked the cutter, grabbed his nape like a kitten, and dragged him out of the staff room.
"Which class is Choi Jiyun in?"
"Wh-what?!"
"Your student Choi Jiyun—which class? Wanna head to the john for toilet water cocktail?"
"Class 3-C! 3-C!"
"Homeroom for C-class, figures, you C-class fuck."
Goddamn bastard. I hauled him kicking to Class 3-C. Students screamed, yelling for teachers or cops, but whatever. I didn't give a single fuck.