A Visit from Three Years Ago

"...What?"

Seong-min blinked, asking her to repeat herself.

"Three years ago, Ji-ah stopped by this place."

"J-Ji-ah... you mean the class president?"

"That's right."

For a moment, Seong-min ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠simply stood there, frozen.

Only for a beat.

"Is that true? She came here and left?"

"I was surprised myself. Some young woman showed up at the orphanage, and when I looked closer, it was Ji-ah. She said she'd come back after a long time and wanted to pay her respects."

"To the orphanage?"

"Yes. She came to see Haengboki."

"......"

"It had been so long that even I didn't recognize her at first. It was the first time I'd seen her since she was a little girl."

That was fair enough.

"We climbed the mountain together to visit Haengboki... and then..."

"And then what?"

"Standing in front of Haengboki, Ji-ah whispered a greeting under her breath — and then she just broke down crying right there. She cried so hard... so bitterly."

"......"

"She wept for a long while, then said her goodbyes and came back down. And she asked me for a favor. If you ever came back to the orphanage, she said, please don't tell you anything about her. I told her I would. But now that I've actually seen you again... how could I possibly keep that promise?"

"She cried...?"

"She did. Bitterly."

"......"

"Later I asked her why, but she wouldn't answer. She only said one thing to me."

"What did she say...?"

"That she was sorry for showing me that side of herself. That she wouldn't come back again, so I could just forget about her. She said her goodbye and left."

"......"

"She told me not to tell you... but I just couldn't keep it to myself. She looked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so heartbroken......"

That same afternoon, Seong-min got back in the car and headed up to Seoul.

But the expression on his face was anything but good.

He had never imagined that the class president — the girl who had gone off to America — had come back here three years ago.

Which meant she had returned to Korea.

And from the sound of it, things had not been going well.

If she had come all the way to see Haengboki, she must have been hurting that badly.

"......"

Even on the drive back, Seong-min's face stayed set and hard.

One week later.

Seong-min sat in a café, waiting for someone.

A short while later, a man in a jumper walked in. He scanned the room, spotted Seong-min, and came over to sit down.

"I hear you're well known as an information broker. Is that right?"

"I make my living that way, sure. How'd you hear about me? Not many people know who I am."

"I heard the vitamin trade dried up and work's been scarce. Your people used to handle most of the intel on that side of things, didn't they?"

The man's eyes shifted at once.

"Who the hell are you? I don't recall you among any of the dealers I know."

"I'd rather not get into that. There's something I'd like you to look into for me."

"How much are you putting up?"

"A million as a deposit. Another two million once I see the results."

"Hmm... so three million total."

As the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠man weighed it, Seong-min spoke again.

"Work's been thin lately, hasn't it? And if I like what you deliver, there'll be more jobs after this."

"More jobs, huh..."

The promise of further commissions if he handled this well clearly caught the man's interest.

"All right. What information are you after?"

Seong-min slid an envelope across the table.

"It's written inside."

The man quietly drew out the slip of paper, unfolded it, and read it through.

"Hmm... nothing too difficult. You've already got most of the basic details down. You just want me to dig up what they're up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to now?"

"That'll do."

"Timeline?"

"One week."

"That's plenty."

He folded the note back into the envelope and tucked it into his coat. Seong-min produced a second envelope and held it out. The man took it and stowed it away without opening it.

"Aren't you going to check it?"

"The amount will match. I don't figure you'd try to short me on this."

The man took a single sip of the coffee Seong-min had ordered ahead of time, then rose from his seat.

"See you here in a week."

Hands shoved into his pockets, he walked out of the café.

Once the man was gone, Seong-min sat alone.

If I hadn't known, that would be one thing...

Through Teacher Ju A-ram, he had learned that the class president had visited the orphanage three years ago to see Haengboki.

And that she had broken down and cried bitterly right there.

He didn't know why.

But the fact that she had shown that kind of face was not something he could dismiss as ordinary.

I can't just look the other way.

He had vaguely assumed she was doing fine. He had lived his life believing that — even if he never saw her again.

The memories from back then were things he could never forget.

And yet she had come back three years ago.

And she had wept bitterly in front of Haengboki.

This was not something he could quietly let pass.

Seong-min did not go straight home.

He headed for the Gym.

He changed clothes and started working out at once.

In the mirror, as he went through a light stretch, the body looking back at him was formidable — broad, squared-off shoulders and sharply defined muscle. A clean six-pack, not an ounce of spare fat, proportions that looked damn near perfect.

He was level 750, with both Physicality and Martial Power sitting at 200. By pouring points into Vigor and Appearance as well, Seong-min had grown to 180.5 cm. His face had slimmed down, his nose bridge had sharpened, and his eyes had become clearer and more defined.

Anyone looking at him would call him handsome — and the body that went with that face was built to match.

Once Physicality and Vigor had both hit 200, gombang work had become almost effortless. That was why he had been investing more heavily into Appearance and Vigor lately.

These days Seong-min was pulling in over three million won a week. Converted to a monthly figure, that was more than ten million.

Two jobs a day at a hundred thousand won each, five days a week, came to five hundred thousand — and Seong-min was clearing anywhere from three to five million in weekly pay. This week alone he had made over three million.

From summer into fall, and now as winter drew near, he had worked hard without pause, and the money he had earned was substantial.

Life had been comfortable. Work had gone well. Things with Noona A-reum were good, and the same went for Auntie Hye-suk.

He had wondered, now and then, how the class president was living — but he had vaguely assumed she was doing just as well as he was. Thinking that way made it easier on the heart.

And then he had heard the news.

That three years ago she had come to the orphanage and poured out bitter tears in front of Haengboki.

For Seong-min, it was a shock.

When the stretching was done, he moved to the treadmill and ran for ten minutes. After that he put in an hour of weight training, then went straight back to the treadmill and kept running.

It was a weekend. He had started around ten in the morning, and the workout stretched on past seven in the evening.

What a stamina monster...

Watching him, the trainer clicked his tongue all over again. Lately Seong-min had only been putting in an hour or two — and today he was suddenly back at it like this. Whatever was on his mind, seeing it again after so long was still astonishing.

Only after seven, with the sun already down, did Seong-min step off the treadmill. He drank some water from the cooler and opened the Status Window.

Ten levels. Ten stat points. The hard-earned result of pushing himself without rest, ramping the intensity higher and higher.

Seong-min did not hesitate. He put all ten points straight into Martial Power.

He closed the Status Window and headed for the locker room.

Even on Sunday, Seong-min did not rest. He came to the Gym and trained hard from morning until night.

Watching him, Hye-suk figured he was working out to build stamina for all the gombang jobs he was taking on. At the same time, a quiet question lingered in her mind. Lately Seong-min's whole atmosphere had turned heavier, more serious.

But she did not ask. She would wait until he chose to talk about it himself.

On weekdays he did gombang work as usual. Earning money still mattered. This week, too, he had two jobs lined up every day through Friday.

Seong-min, the rest of the crew, and Min-hyeok as well — all of them were pushing harder on their conditioning and effort, and both their stamina and their physiques were improving by the day. Looking at Seong-min made them feel they had to keep up, so there was no choice but to work at it.

For five days Seong-min balanced gombang work with the Gym and got through the week. The money he earned this week came to 4.25 million won. Stacked on top of the three-plus million from the week before, he had cleared nearly eight million in just two weeks.

Saturday came, and he waited again at the appointed time.

The door opened. The man in the jumper walked in and made his way over to Seong-min.

"Read it."

He sat down and handed over an envelope. Seong-min took out the sheet of paper inside and read through the contents. The man waited until he was finished.

"Just like it says in there. Yoo Han-soo's company went under, and he took his own life. Betrayed by the people he trusted most."

"They all jumped ship to a competitor at once?"

"Looks that way. The technical staff all walked out, and when the promissory notes came due, the business partners found every excuse in the book not to pay. He took on debt trying to plug the holes — and that finished him."

"You think it was planned?"

"It reeks of it. Like dominoes — one thing after another, right down the line. Almost like they coordinated it."

"......"

"What's written there is everything we managed to dig up. That family is thoroughly ruined."

The way he said it — as if discussing a stranger's misfortune — was coldly detached.

Seong-min pulled another envelope from his coat and held it out.

"Two million."

"Appreciate it."

The man took the envelope and put it away.

"I'd like to ask one more favor."

"Go ahead."

"Find someone for me."

"Who?"

"Yoo Han-soo's daughter."

"What kind of business is this, that you're digging this deep?"

The man asked with open curiosity.

"......"

Seong-min did not answer.

"Finding a person is trickier. A week won't cut it — give us about a month."

"A month is enough to find her?"

"If she's still in the country..."

"Understood."

Seong-min produced yet another envelope.

"There's three million in here. If the results are good, I'll add another five."

The man's eyes lit up.

"We'll dig hard, then."

He stowed the envelope holding three million and left his seat.

Who was the ringleader...

Someone had planned this and carried it out — that much was certain. A job this thoroughly orchestrated, with even the business partners falling into line, could only have been the work of a seasoned operator who had spent years spreading roots through that industry and building up the leverage to make it happen.