Gratitude
Recently, Veslo had surged into prominence as a promising midsize company. It manufactured cathode materials, a core component in secondary batteries.
Its founder, Im Gwan-hun, could not help but be flustered first thing in the morning.
"You want to quit? Just like that?"
That was because Song Bong-gu, his chauffeur, had suddenly handed in his resignation.
It was hardly normal for the head of a company with trillions of won in sales to react so sensitively to the resignation of a single chauffeur.
"Is the pay not to your liking?"
"Oh, no, no. Where else would I ever get this kind of money?"
"Then is the workload or the welfare not satisfactory?"
"Absolutely not. I know very well how considerate you’ve always been to me, sir."
"Then why are you suddenly saying you’re leaving?"
"It’s my boy······. Because of him."
"Tan? What about Tan? Is something wrong?"
Im Gwan-hun was not ignorant of it.
Of how much of Song Bong-gu’s life was taken up by his son.
Song Bong-gu lowered his head like a condemned man and forced the words out.
As he went on, Im Gwan-hun’s face grew harder and harder.
"B-because I only have the one son and I haven’t taken proper care of him, I’m a damned fool. I don’t have the face to look at my wife, who went up to heaven before me, sir···."
"Haa···."
Watching Song Bong-gu’s shoulders tremble, Im Gwan-hun ran a hand through his hair.
As if trying to force down the anger rising in him.
"Of course···. I’m not saying you should quit right this second. I can’t be a burden to you over a private matter. For now, I need to go to school today. After that, I’ll keep driving until a replacement comes in."
"No, Mr. Song. That’s not the important part right now."
"Yes···?"
At the chilling tone, Song Bong-gu slowly raised his head.
"When a wicked person with power torments someone, they never do it half-heartedly. What I mean is... this chain of bad blood may not be so easy to break."
He had started in a tiny eight-pyeong office in Seocho-dong and come this far. He had seen all kinds of human depravity along the way.
Im Gwan-hun knew from hard experience that men like that had to be stomped down thoroughly, before they ever had a chance to crawl back up again.
Sitting on the sofa and stroking his beard, he quietly called out to someone.
"Honey, you heard that?"
A woman appeared from the kitchen.
His wife, Na Hye-ran.
"From what I’ve heard, it’s utterly shameless. In this day and age, to pull a stunt like that."
"Could you go over there for me?"
"I wouldn’t mind at all···. What do you think, Mr. Song?"
Startled, Song Bong-gu waved both hands frantically.
"Oh, madam, there’s no need to go that far because of me. I’d hate to trouble you."
"Oh my, what trouble? If you put it that way, it hurts my feelings. Isn’t Mr. Song’s business our business too?"
Na Hye-ran smiled sweetly as she untied her apron and sat down beside Im Gwan-hun.
"It’s better to leave matters like this to an expert. For Tan’s sake too."
At the mention of his son, the one and only thing that touched his raw nerve, Song Bong-gu flinched.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
Now was not the time to argue.
"Then···. It’s shameless of me, but I’d be grateful if you could help."
"Hoho, don’t worry. I’ll handle it cleanly—with no loose ends at all."
With a meaningful smile, Na Hye-ran rose to her feet.
"All right, I’ll get ready. It’s been a while since I had to get serious."
"Don’t go alone. I’ll call Attorney Jang and send him with you."
Im Gwan-hun picked up his phone and dialed someone.
"Yeah, it’s me. Call the firm and tell them to send Attorney Jang here right now. No, actually, send every lawyer who can come. Tell them it’s urgent. And let the organizers know I won’t be able to make today’s business leaders’ roundtable."
At the way things were moving with such perfect efficiency, Song Bong-gu didn’t know where to put himself.
"Oh, sir. You really don’t have to go this far because of me······."
Seeing how apologetic he looked, Im Gwan-hun gave him a gentle smile.
"It’s been, what, fifteen years since we first met? It’s a little embarrassing to say this, but ever since the day Mr. Song saved my life, I’ve thought of you as family. If family is in trouble, who could stand by and do nothing? So don’t feel burdened. I’m the one who should apologize, actually. I should have paid more attention to Tan···."
"Sir······."
"To be perfectly honest, where else would I find a capable chauffeur like you, Mr. Song? Honestly, I don’t have the confidence. So I’ll just have to treat you even better and make sure you never leave."
Moved by it, Song Bong-gu’s eyes glistened.
He had known they cared for him in a special way, but he had never imagined it would be this much.
By then, Na Hye-ran had finished dressing and flashed him a bright, sidelong smile.
"I’ll take care of it properly... no, I mean, I’ll deal with it and bring Tan back."
She barely managed to swallow the southern dialect that slipped out in the heat of the moment, and then she headed for the front door.
***
Click—
"Father?"
"Tan!"
When his son came through the front door, Song Bong-gu ran to him at once.
"It’s all finished."
Na Hye-ran kicked off the high heels she was wearing without care and tossed the expensive designer bag she had been carrying onto the table as if it were just baggage.
"Good work."
Im Gwan-hun patted his wife’s shoulder and asked,
"How did it go?"
"Just as expected. He was shameless to the end. I was speechless."
"And?"
"My old temper came out too. I flipped the whole damn thing over."
"Puhaha, so the Na Hye-ran who used to rule the ground in Suncheon’s still alive and kicking."
Im Gwan-hun laughed heartily, then suddenly turned serious.
"Don’t even think about showing mercy. They’re not the sort who’ll listen to reason anyway."
"You too. Why are you so solemn about something that obvious?"
It was a murderous conversation, yet somehow the atmosphere was that of an affectionate married couple and nothing else.
Turning his head, Im Gwan-hun looked at Song Tan, who sat quietly in place.
"I’m sorry, Tan."
Song Tan’s gaze shifted to him.
"I kept using work as an excuse and didn’t take proper care of you. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it must have been for you all this time···."
Im Gwan-hun’s brow twitched. He rose from the sofa and took Song Tan’s hand.
"Thank you for holding on. And thank you for gathering the courage to tell us."
".........."
Song Tan kept his expression blank, but inside he was rather taken aback.
Strictly speaking, President Im was his father’s employer.
In a relationship where the lines between superior and subordinate were so clear, why go this far?
"You look as though you can’t understand why we’re doing all this."
"Yes, honestly. People like you and Madam shouldn’t have any reason to go this far."
"Have you heard how your father and I first met?"
Song Tan nodded.
"I understand it happened when my father was working as a designated driver, and that you offered him the chauffeur position after that."
At Im Gwan-hun’s glance, Song Bong-gu scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"Back then, the boy was too young for me to explain it properly."
"I see. Then may I tell him?"
"Now that so much time has passed···."
It was an indirect permission.
"Fifteen years ago, a drunk driver driving the wrong way rammed into my car. The designated driver behind the wheel barely managed to yank the steering wheel aside, and I escaped dying on the spot."
It was the first Song Tan had heard of it, and a strange glint entered his eyes.
"Not only that, he dragged me out after I’d lost consciousness. And all the while, his own body was in awful shape. Not long after that, the car went up with a bang and exploded."
Im Gwan-hun’s gaze landed on Song Bong-gu, who sat there with a sheepish expression.
"As you may have guessed, the person who saved my life that day was Mr. Song. It wouldn’t be enough to serve such a man for a lifetime, would it?"
Song Tan’s eyes moved to his father’s stooped back.
He couldn’t help but marvel that such a small frame had managed to do that.
"Ahem. At the time, I was only thinking I had to save the person first···."
Embarrassed by his son’s gaze, Song Bong-gu let the end of the sentence trail off.
"After I survived that brush with death, I thought to myself that I wanted such an upright man to keep driving for me. Haha, so I had to persuade him three times before I could finally bring him over. Your father was very hard to win."
Only then did it make sense.
Why his father, with a body that seemed ill-suited to driving, had been able to work as a chauffeur for more than fifteen years.
"Mr. Song is an irreplaceably precious connection to me. How could I just stand by when someone like that says he wants to quit because of a problem with his son? Isn’t that right?"
"Sir···."
Song Bong-gu looked at Im Gwan-hun with trembling eyes.
He could not have failed to notice that the man was deliberately praising him more than necessary because his son was present.
"I heard you said you’d quit school?"
"Yes. That’s what I said."
"Wouldn’t it be better to transfer to another school? If you want, I’ll take care of every arrangement."
Song Tan shook his head firmly.
"No. I’d rather take the GED. From now on, I want to live the life I truly want."
Seeing Song Tan meet his eyes without looking away, Im Gwan-hun inwardly marveled.
He knew very well that people with eyes like those usually made something of themselves, no matter what they did.
"May I ask what kind of life you want?"
At the cautious question, Song Tan answered without hesitation.
"A life no longer tossed around by others. A life where I decide, and willingly bear the responsibility for that decision. And··· a life where I can practice true justice, not hypocrisy."
"Ah···."
Na Hye-ran, who had been listening silently, let out a faint sigh.
She had thought he was saying such things because he had been hurt by school violence.
But for Song Tan, who still remembered the wretched life of Number Twenty-Eight with perfect clarity, it was perhaps only natural to think that way.
Im Gwan-hun, still staring at those eyes that shone with resolve, turned his head to the side.
"I misunderstood, Mr. Song."
"Yes?"
"Tan is a very strong boy. Whatever he chooses, he’s the kind who’ll rise very far."
"Heh···. Thank··· thank you."
He had been under that man’s care for fifteen years.
He never used empty words, not even with people he was close to, and he wasn’t one to shower others with praise lightly.
So to have such a person evaluate his son that highly, Song Bong-gu could not help but feel happy.
"This is fortunate. I’ve been wondering when I should give this to you···. I kept worrying over it, but today seems like exactly the right day."
"Yes? What··· is it?"
Smiling faintly, Im Gwan-hun spoke to Na Hye-ran, who was sitting quietly beside him.
"Honey, go get that thing from the safe."
Without a word, Na Hye-ran went into the bedroom and came back carrying something in her hands.
It was a thick brown document envelope.
Im Gwan-hun took the envelope from her and handed it straight to Song Bong-gu.
"W-what is this, sir···?"
"Why don’t you open it?"
As Song Bong-gu hesitated, Na Hye-ran smiled with her eyes gently closed and said,
"Hoho, go ahead and open it. He’s been preparing this for a long time, for your sake."
At their urging, Song Bong-gu finally took out the contents of the envelope.
A moment later, his eyes shook violently, as if an earthquake had struck them.
"S-sir!?"
Seeing Song Bong-gu raise his voice so rarely, Im Gwan-hun spoke in a calm tone.
"Do you remember? It’s what I promised to give Mr. Song before."
"When did I ever make such a promise···?"
"Haha, have you forgotten already? When I said I’d repay you for saving my life, you refused adamantly, didn’t you? And then I said, didn’t I? Fine, then I’ll give this money back to you when the time is right."
Song Bong-gu was dumbfounded.
He had thought it was just something said for form’s sake.
"Back then, I used that money to buy some land in Seongsu-dong. The value of currency naturally falls as time goes on, after all. And now, fifteen years later, that land is worth a lot more than it was then. Even I was surprised."
After that, the amount that came out of Im Gwan-hun’s mouth was enough to shake even Song Tan’s composure.