No Substitute
"Ahh... that's good. That's enough now. Come out."
Chairman Wang Gil-nam was not looking at Ji Hye-in, who stood in front of his desk. His eyes were directed underneath it.
The woman named Myeong-hee — the one who had arrived at the office first the other day — was emerging from beneath the chairman's desk, her lipstick slightly smeared, her face flushed crimson. She swallowed what she had been holding in her mouth as she crawled out into the open.
"Come on now... what's this about? Vice President Jo. You get a man all worked up and then you won't even give him a chance. You talked like you'd let me carpet-bomb her for a month or two."
Park Young-ho was on the phone with Jo Bong-young, vice president of a major conglomerate, needling him in a tone that was half complaint and half joke.
In the time since, Director Park Young-ho had already met the cafe's public sub, Ji Hye-in, three times. After those filthy, soaking sessions with her, every other form of entertainment had gone completely stale.
They had given him a chance at least once a week, and for the past three weeks he had spent the hottest hours of his life — hours unlike anything he had ever experienced. Then, without warning, every appointment with the cafe's public sub Ji Hye-in had been cancelled. For ten days now, nothing had moved at all. That was why Park Young-ho was pressing Jo Bong-young, demanding to know what was going on.
"Haa... we're in a bind ourselves. Look, Director Park — even if it isn't Hye-in, the cafe still has two other public subs. Would you like to meet one of the other girls?"
"Heh... well. Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose. I'll give it a shot. But why is she suddenly acting like this?"
"I don't know. Right now we can't get a read on the situation at all. She's not normally like this. This time... it really seems like something's going on."
The very next day, Park Young-ho met with another of the cafe's public subs: Yoo Mi-ran. But as high as his expectations had been, the disappointment ran far deeper. There was no comparison to be made with Hye-in. Yoo Mi-ran, he decided, was simply a married woman who had gone sex-mad. And calling her a married woman was giving her too much credit — she was no different from a woman of the pleasure quarters, dripping with wanton appetite.
He had gone in imagining a second Hye-in. He walked out of the meeting with Yoo Mi-ran carrying nothing but a heap of disappointment.
The day after that, another opportunity presented itself, so while he was at it he met the last remaining public sub as well: Yang Ji-hwa. Park Young-ho forced himself to pull out after a single hurried thrust, then walked out of the motel with a dazed look on his face.
If this is how it's going to be, I'd rather drop a fortune at a high-end hostess bar and play with young beauties who don't have a shred of manners. What the hell am I doing with some old ajumma like that?
It had been a unique experience, even an exotic one. It was not an experience he ever wanted to have again. Park Young-ho's mood was ruined through and through.
The woman named Ji Hye-in. At first, the only thought in his head had been that she was the wife of Yoo Kang-soo — the man who had humiliated him — and that she therefore deserved to be used like a dog and violated without mercy. But after that first meeting, after he had fired a long, satisfying stream across her breasts, the urge to torment her, to drag her down to rock bottom, had somehow vanished without a trace. What welled up in its place was simply the desire to enjoy her, and Park Young-ho did not bother denying it to himself.
That was how it had been after the first meeting. After the second, the feeling had taken on a far more definite shape. After the second meeting, he thought of her all day long. He thought of her white body, yes — but even more than that, he thought of her demure face, silently obedient. After she had opened her mouth wide to show him how well his semen had pooled there, and then swallowed it down, Park Young-ho had, in truth, shuddered in silence.
"Director. This time I've found a real professional. This isn't some amateur neighborhood gangster's errand boy. They say he does contract work for a living, and his record is spectacular."
The broker Jang Ki-tae had come to see Park Young-ho again, laying out what he had prepared with careful, measured words.
"Jang Ki-tae. Last time, shouldn't we just be grateful Kang-soo didn't track us down? The longer the tail, the more likely it gets caught. If we get pinched this time and Kang-soo completely blows his lid, then what?"
"Just take a look at the profile. This guy is the real deal. Honestly, my pride's been hurt too. I can't stand it. I know your pride's been wounded, Director — but I'm a man who makes a living on these backdoor deals, and this is too humiliating."
Jang Ki-tae held the hitman's profile out for Park Young-ho to see.
"Oh-ho. He's not a Korean national."
"That's right. He looks completely Korean, but he isn't a Korean citizen, so there's no worry of anyone tracing him back. And he's famous for thorough cleanup. This is confidential, but the men he's worked over — there are too many to count. The ones he's actually put in the ground, completely sent off... they say there are three of them."
Park Young-ho's face went startled at Jang Ki-tae's words.
"Whoa. Still — we're not actually sending him off. Surely you're not saying we should take Kang-soo out for good?"
"Of course not. But he humiliated us, so I think taking one ankle would settle the score. I'll tell him to blow out an Achilles tendon."
At that, Park Young-ho's expression went still, as if he had sunk into a deep thought. Then, slowly, he opened his mouth. Hye-in's face had risen unbidden in his mind. He was painting a picture for himself, turning it over like a fever dream: Yoo Kang-soo crippled into a lame wreck, and Hye-in stolen away as his personal slave girl. No matter how long he turned it over, he could not understand how a woman as obedient as Hye-in — a woman with a deviant streak, no less — had ended up attached to a thug like Kang-soo.
He sat with those thoughts for a while. Then he opened his eyes and looked at Jang Ki-tae.
"Yes, Director. I'll handle it for certain. Kang-soo's Achilles tendon — I'll take it quickly. That a bastard who dared pull that dog-shit on you is still walking around just fine on two feet is something I cannot tolerate."
Ji Hye-in kept showing up to the office, holding herself together. Lee Myeong-hee, the woman the chairman had personally brought in, was now coming in every day and handling the clerical work herself. She did not, however, seem like a hard-hearted woman.
"Hye-in, I'm sorry. I've got my own bills to pay, so I have no choice but to endure this awkward situation. I have a lot of debt, and the chairman is the only person I can lean on. Please don't resent me too much."
Lee Myeong-hee was not treating Hye-in coldly. If anything, she spoke with a warmth that was meant to comfort.
"Unni... thank you for at least saying it so kindly. I've worked in this office for over five years. I was in my mid-thirties. I started here before my son even graduated elementary school, and now he's in high school. It feels like I'm being pushed out, and it's so bewildering... it hurts so much. Could you put in a good word for me with the chairman?"
Hye-in felt something inside her crumbling. It was about the money, yes — but this association office was something she had come to think of as a companion that would walk with her through her whole life. The truth was she had done next to nothing here, just comfortably collecting a paycheck. It had been the cushiest of cushy jobs, and she had grown far too attached.
And there was one more thing. The first man she had given her body to besides her husband had been Chairman Wang Gil-nam. She had already been in contact with Eom In-soo before Wang Gil-nam took her by force — but she had never actually met Eom In-soo, had never gone as far as sex, when Wang Gil-nam claimed her first. It was difficult, though, to call it rape. She had seen it coming. And she had not put up any real fight.