Adaptation
That evening. In the heart of Seoul’s Gangnam district. Inside an upscale Korean restaurant overlooking the Han River, a gentle stream of traditional instrumental music played softly. And there, Jeong Seok-woo walked slowly down the hallway, guided by a staff member. He looked like any ordinary middle-aged man—black coat, scarf wrapped around his neck—just as he always did. The employee carefully opened the door.
“Your reservation guest has already arrived.”
Jeong Seok-woo gave a light nod and stepped inside. A man was already seated in the private room. Gray suit. Neatly combed hair. Late forties. And the moment the door opened, he stood up almost reflexively and bowed at the waist.
“Aigoo, it’s been so long, Platoon Leader.”
Jeong Seok-woo’s face immediately twisted into an exhausted expression.
“Do-yun.”
“...Yes.”
“Fix that title already, will you?”
Han Do-yun gave a small laugh.
“It’s a habit, sir.”
Jeong Seok-woo clicked his tongue.
“How many years has it been since you were discharged? What kind of habit lasts this long?”
“You were my superior officer. That’s a fact, isn’t it?”
“Exactly. So how many years has it been since discharge? Ugh, forget it. Sit down.”
Jeong Seok-woo finally gave up and dropped heavily into his seat. Once the staff quietly set down water and basic side dishes and left, a brief silence filled the room. Han Do-yun spoke first.
“I’m glad to see you looking healthy.”
“I’m old. Everything aches.”
“Well, that’s what happens when you get old. My joints start complaining the moment it rains, too.”
“Looks like you’re past your prime as well.”
Despite the short exchange, the atmosphere between them felt strangely comfortable. They hadn’t been in touch for a long time, yet there was that unique ease that came from knowing exactly what kind of people they were.
Han Do-yun asked, “Are you still running the orphanage well?”
“The kids aren’t going hungry, at least.”
“Then that’s enough.”
Jeong Seok-woo lifted his water glass, then glanced at Han Do-yun’s face and said, “Made a lot of money, huh?”
“...Enough to live comfortably.”
Jeong Seok-woo snorted at that.
“How much is ‘enough to live comfortably’ that you drag me to a place like this for one meal?”
Han Do-yun didn’t deny it.
A little while later, the course dishes began arriving one by one. Neatly plated appetizers. Warm broth. Premium Korean beef. But instead of the food, Jeong Seok-woo spent most of the time staring out the window at the night view. Han Do-yun watched him quietly. And for a very brief moment, an old memory flickered through his mind.
Endless sandstorms. Burning vehicles. Gunfire and screams. And a man with a blood-soaked face grabbing him by the collar and dragging him along.
Back then, Jeong Seok-woo had been much younger, much rougher, and the kind of man who couldn’t tell the difference between recklessness and courage. Han Do-yun spoke very quietly.
“...Truth is, even after I started living comfortably, I never really got used to places like this.”
Jeong Seok-woo let out a short laugh.
“Makes sense for guys who used to rip open combat rations in the middle of the desert.”
“At least back then bullets weren’t flying at us.”
“They aren’t flying now either.”
“The prices here are scarier than bullets.”
At that, Jeong Seok-woo burst into loud laughter.
“Look at you, talking like that after making all that money.”
After the long meal finally ended, Jeong Seok-woo rinsed his mouth with a cup of tea and spoke in a perfectly calm tone.
“Do-yun.”
Han Do-yun’s expression naturally grew serious.
“Yes.”
“I didn’t come to see your face today just to catch up on old times.”
A short silence. Jeong Seok-woo continued slowly.
“I have a favor to ask of you.”
Han Do-yun raised an eyebrow and straightened his posture. Jeong Seok-woo pulled out his phone from inside his coat, scrolled through a few screens, and silently handed it over.
“...Take a look at this.”
As Han Do-yun naturally lowered his gaze to the screen, the smile gradually disappeared from his face. The photo showed an extraordinary quantity of gold coins and gemstones completely covering a table. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds. Gems whose names he didn’t even know, along with jewelry crafted in styles completely unlike anything modern. Since Jeong Seok-woo was the one showing them, there was no need to doubt that they were real gold and genuine gemstones. What was strange, however, was the aura they gave off—even through the photo. Just looking at them made it clear these weren’t ordinary precious metals.
Han Do-yun’s eyes cooled sharply. The comfortable atmosphere from earlier vanished, replaced by the demeanor of a true professional. He slowly zoomed in on the images. The patterns on the gold coins. The craftsmanship. The gem cuts. The texture of the metal. After flipping through several photos, he muttered in a low voice.
“...How on earth did the director of an orphanage come across items like these?”
Jeong Seok-woo picked up his water glass, then set it back down.
“It’s a little hard to explain.”
“It’s not… an illegal source, is it?”
“It’s not.”
“Overseas cultural artifacts?”
“...No.”
“Then smuggling?”
Jeong Seok-woo let out a sigh.
“Just think of it as a complicated situation. But I guarantee there’s no illegality involved.”
Han Do-yun stared at the photos for a long time. Then he said quietly, “...Platoon Leader.”
“What?”
“These aren’t ordinary items. You know that, right?”
“I do.”
Han Do-yun fell into thought for a moment, then suddenly asked, “...Well, to be honest, I assumed that would be the case. You’re planning to sell these, correct? That’s why you’re showing them to me.”
“Yes. But they’re not mine.”
Han Do-yun stared at the photos a while longer before speaking very slowly.
“...Platoon Leader.”
“What?”
“...I trust you. And since you’re showing me items that don’t even belong to you, I assume the owner is also someone trustworthy.”
Jeong Seok-woo looked at him without a word. Han Do-yun continued while still staring at the phone screen.
“However, that’s a separate issue from my trust.”
His voice was calm.
“For these items to enter the market legally, we need at least a minimum verifiable origin.”
Jeong Seok-woo quietly fiddled with his water glass. Han Do-yun spoke with complete composure.
“To be completely honest, touching items like these could immediately trigger an investigation.”
“...I’m aware.”
“That’s why I’m asking.”
He slowly lifted his gaze.
“...These are truly problem-free items, right?”
For a split second, the thought crossed Jeong Seok-woo’s mind that it might actually have been better if they were problematic.
—Beep…!
In one corner of the underground parking lot, the turn signal of a deep green sedan flashed briefly. Jeong Seok-woo frowned when he saw the car.
“...Isn’t this that Benz or whatever?”
“I ended up with a nice car like this while working.”
“The van our kids ride around in has rusting doors.”
“...Isn’t that a bit of an unfair comparison?”
Han Do-yun chuckled and opened the passenger door.
“Get in.”
It really was a luxury car—the moment he sat on the seat, the feel was on a completely different level from a cheap van. Soon Han Do-yun slid into the driver’s seat, fiddled with the navigation, and asked, “Platoon Leader, is this the correct address?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
After confirming the address, the car smoothly pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. The interior was quiet. The engine was barely audible.
“...By the way, Platoon Leader.”
“What?”
“The owner of those items.”
Jeong Seok-woo answered while gazing at the night scenery outside the window.
“One of the kids from my orphanage.”
A brief silence. Han Do-yun lightly tapped the steering wheel while waiting for the light, then asked cautiously, “...Is he some chaebol family’s secret son or something?”
Jeong Seok-woo had no idea how to answer that and simply stared out the window endlessly. The passing lights outside streaked across the glass. Han Do-yun glanced at the rearview mirror for no particular reason and said, “...Still, these really do look like dangerous items.”
Jeong Seok-woo gave a short laugh.
“Scared?”
“It’s not so much fear as…”
Han Do-yun spoke honestly.
“...My head hurts.”
He let out a sigh.
“I’ve been in this business for nearly fifteen years, but I’ve never even heard of items like these existing.”
Jeong Seok-woo leaned against the window and muttered, “...When I first saw them, I felt dizzy too.”
A short while later, the car left the city center and entered an alley near the orphanage. It was late, so the streets were quiet. Only the faint glow from a convenience store lit the narrow lane. A familiar, worn-out building came into view. Han Do-yun slowly brought the car to a stop and stared at the orphanage for a moment. It was neither large nor fancy.
“...This is my first time coming here.”
It was indeed Han Do-yun’s first visit to the orphanage, yet he didn’t feel particularly out of place. That was probably because he had heard the stories from Jeong Seok-woo countless times. The man who, after returning from deployment, had declared he would hold the hands of parentless children instead of a gun. The man who had truly lived that way for nearly thirty years. Han Do-yun gave a small smile.
“What’s suddenly so funny?”
“It’s nothing. Really.”
Jeong Seok-woo chuckled and got out of the car, and Han Do-yun followed. The cold winter night air rushed in. A few windows of the orphanage still had lights on. Jeong Seok-woo entered the familiar passcode on the front door with practiced ease.
—Beep.
The door opened, releasing a rush of warm air. The hallway inside was quiet. Most of the children were already asleep. The only sound was the faint noise of a TV coming from somewhere far off. Jeong Seok-woo changed into indoor shoes and spoke in a low voice.
“The kids might wake up, so keep it down.”
“...Yes.”
Han Do-yun instinctively lowered his voice as well. The two walked down the hallway toward the director’s office. From the direction of the children’s rooms came the faint sound of someone laughing, and somewhere the low hum of the boiler could be heard. Han Do-yun glanced around for no particular reason. It was an old building, but well-maintained. The wallpaper looked freshly changed on a regular basis, and the hallway floor was polished to a shine.
Jeong Seok-woo stopped in front of the director’s office door and gave a light knock.
—Knock knock.
“I-hyun, are you in there?”
An immediate answer came from inside.
“Ah, yes. Come in.”
It was a young man’s voice. When Jeong Seok-woo opened the door and entered, the director’s office was filled with the gentle warmth of heating. And on one side of the sofa sat Kang Ihyun. He wore a comfortable black hoodie and gray sweatpants. In one hand he held a convenience store canned coffee. He looked like any ordinary young man you might see anywhere. Given the circumstances, this young man appeared to be the owner of those gemstones. What was slightly surprising, however, was that unlike the image Han Do-yun had imagined, the young man before him didn’t carry the aura or appearance of someone who possessed such wealth.
Kang Ihyun stood up and gave a light bow.
“...Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Han Do-yun.”
The two exchanged a brief handshake. Han Do-yun naturally gauged the other man’s hand. It was hard. Much harder than expected. But that was common enough for someone who worked out regularly. Kang Ihyun smiled awkwardly.
“I’m sorry for making you come so late at night.”
“Not at all. I have quite a few questions myself.”
Jeong Seok-woo dropped onto the sofa as if exhausted.
“Alright, that’s enough with the greetings.”
He jerked his chin toward the table.
“I-hyun, show him directly.”
Kang Ihyun gave a quiet nod. With familiar movements, he untied a small black leather pouch. Han Do-yun’s gaze naturally dropped downward. It was a tiny pouch. Honestly, it looked like it could only hold a few gemstones at most. But then—
Kang Ihyun casually reached inside. And—
—Clink, clatter.
As his hand withdrew, dozens of gold coins poured onto the table. Han Do-yun’s eyelids twitched ever so slightly. And it didn’t stop there. Rubies. Sapphires. Emeralds. Silver ornaments. Necklaces. Rings. Golden cups. An endless stream of items far exceeding the pouch’s size kept tumbling out.
Clink. Clink.
The sound of gemstones colliding filled the director’s office. Jeong Seok-woo had already seen it once, so he remained calm. Han Do-yun, however, could not.
He finally couldn’t hold back and burst out, “...Wait, wait a second! This isn’t even about the gemstones anymore—what the hell is that pouch? No matter how you look at it, that’s not an amount that should fit inside…!”
Kang Ihyun smiled sheepishly.
“...For now, I’ll only show you this much.”
Han Do-yun couldn’t respond. The tone suggested there was more, but that wasn’t the important part. The scene before him was shattering common sense itself. He looked at the pouch in Kang Ihyun’s hand again. Then at the gemstones. Then back at the pouch. And very slowly—
“...This.”
He asked, doing his best to stay calm.
“...You need to explain this properly.”
Kang Ihyun gave a short laugh.
“First, why don’t you take a look while we talk?”
Han Do-yun eventually pulled a chair closer to the table. He took out a pair of white cotton gloves from the pouch, put them on, and carefully picked up one of the gold coins. The weight and color suggested it wasn’t fake, but gold had so many sophisticated counterfeits that it was hard to be certain. Next, he lifted a ruby. His brow immediately furrowed.
‘...What is this size?’
This level of transparency, this size. He slowly tilted the ruby under the light. The way the light scattered inside. The layers of color. The pattern of inclusions. In that brief moment, Han Do-yun’s expression hardened.
‘...It’s not synthetic.’
If something like this appeared at auction, the world would be turned upside down. Han Do-yun stared at the items in silence for a long time. Then he asked very quietly, “...What exactly are these?”
The director’s office grew quiet for a moment. Jeong Seok-woo silently drank his coffee. In the end, it was Kang Ihyun who answered.
“...It will be hard to believe.”
Han Do-yun let out a hollow laugh.
“Ha, at this point the situation itself has gone way past the point where belief is even relevant, don’t you think?”
Kang Ihyun smiled faintly as well. After a brief silence, he spoke.
“...Twelve years ago, I went missing. But the truth is—”
Kang Ihyun rolled one of the gold coins on the table with his fingertip.
“—I was in another world.”
Silence. For a very brief moment, all expression vanished from Han Do-yun’s face.
“...Excuse me?”
The look on his face seemed to ask whether this was really what they called him here to appraise gemstones for. But Kang Ihyun remained perfectly calm. In fact, he was so calm it was almost eerie.
“To be precise, they summoned me there.”
“...Summoned?”
“Yes.”
Han Do-yun turned to look at Jeong Seok-woo. Jeong Seok-woo was casually drinking his tea as if nothing was unusual.
“...Platoon Leader.”
“What?”
“...Are you messing with me right now?”
Jeong Seok-woo snorted.
“At first, I really wished someone was.”
Han Do-yun looked back at Kang Ihyun. The young man’s expression was serious. He didn’t look like he was joking. Nor did he look crazy. If anything, he seemed excessively calm and composed. Han Do-yun let out a slow breath.
“...So, let me get this straight.”
He tried to organize the situation.
“You were in another world for twelve years.”
“Yes.”
“And you brought these items back from there?”
“Correct.”
“...And now you want to sell them legally here in Korea.”
Kang Ihyun nodded honestly.
“Yes.”
Han Do-yun finally dragged both hands down his face.
“...Wow.”
After a long moment, he muttered with genuine feeling.
“This is a real headache.”