A City Within a City
I underestimated him.
Right up until the moment he arrived at the outskirts of Busan, Lee Chan-bin hadn’t given the situation much thought.
In truth, the only reason he’d come at all was his father’s curt order: “Keep an eye on that stadium the Shin kid is building.” It had never been his own idea.
Yet the instant he set foot in the place… it was actually impressive?
The bridge leading in had been the only eyesore. The city itself looked rundown, crawling with elderly residents. There wasn’t a single large supermarket in sight—the kind you’d expect anywhere people actually lived. Instead, convenience stores dotted the streets, and the old-fashioned neighborhood grocers everyone claimed had vanished were still thriving. What year was this, anyway?
The roads were a complete disaster, too. They looked like they’d been sketched by someone who had never driven a car in his life, hunched over a map muttering, “Hmm, maybe this’ll work.” Sheet-metal shacks stood next to slate-roofed houses, all of it wrapped in a pathetic attempt at rustic charm.
Why on earth would anyone pour money into a city like this?
Honestly, he’d even started doubting Lee Shin’s intelligence.
But then.
It took exactly five minutes. The moment the car rounded the corner and the stadium Lee Shin had supposedly sunk a fortune into came into view, everything flipped.
The streets, districts, and neighborhoods built around that stadium? No—this was more like…
A city within a city.
An enormous plot of land that no single guild could ever hope to manage, let alone had ever managed, was being shaped exactly to Lee Shin’s tastes under the banner of the Mir Guild.
That was the moment Lee Chan-bin’s greed stirred to life.
Anyone who had ever run a construction company knew the magic a piece of land could hold.
It wasn’t about bragging, “I built that apartment complex,” after a few swings of a shovel. No, it was the indescribable thrill of stamping your own color onto the earth—something only those who had done it could understand.
Lee Chan-bin made up his mind right then: he would paint the land Lee Shin had prepared with his own colors.
It was already quite impressive for something Lee Shin had thrown together, but if he got his hands on it, this place would truly become the beating heart of Busan. He was certain of it.
The fact that he hadn’t obtained Lee Shin’s consent at any point in the process sent a chill down his spine, but in Lee Chan-bin’s mind, that detail had never even registered as relevant.
After all, if I make it look good, won’t they make money too?
That was simply how Lee Chan-bin operated. Impulsive, authoritarian, and utterly self-centered.
Which was why he had overlooked one crucial fact.
Lee Shin was exactly the same. No—Lee Shin was the kind of reckless maniac who could talk back to Lee Sang-byuk, a man Lee Chan-bin himself didn’t even dare meet eye-to-eye.
Lee Shin looked at the phone on the table—no, more precisely, at the number saved as Shin Sung Construction President—and wagged his finger like a metronome.
“Tick-tock, tick-tock. Time’s running out. Shall we do some business or not?”
“…This is absurd. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Why the long face? You’ve been humming the word business like a broken record since we sat down. I’m simply offering to give you exactly what you wanted.”
Lee Shin, his senses sharpened by the sharp sweetness of the chocolate cake, continued smoothly.
“Having trouble speaking first? Very well, I’ll make the offer. I request that you immediately replace every single one of those site managers—the ones you boasted about sharing such delicious construction-site meals with.”
Wasn’t that just custom? Industry practice? Was understanding that what business meant?
He didn’t like it.
In Lee Shin’s mind, anyone who played games with the controls of a hundred-thousand-seat stadium was a bastard and an animal.
Humans didn’t converse with animals. They handled them. That was the absolute limit of what Lee Shin could accept.
Therefore—
“Please understand me through that business of yours, Mr. President.”
“Hah, so you’re deliberately dragging out this trivial nonsense just to make the atmosphere uncomfortable?”
“What’s uncomfortable about it? This is business. I’m speaking as a client, not as your nephew.”
“Ha… I’ve been patient with you since we sat down, but—”
A hollow laugh flickered across Lee Chan-bin’s face. The moment he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, his expression twisted into something demonic.
“You little shit. You think I’m funny? Say that again. I dare you.”
Lee Chan-bin was fundamentally crude and vicious.
He did what he wanted. He made the impossible happen. He threatened and exploited weaknesses until he got his way. That was Lee Chan-bin.
In other words, he wasn’t benevolent enough to sit quietly while someone he viewed as weaker and beneath him dared to defy him.
“I spoke nicely because we’re family. And this bastard climbs on top of me? You think I asked for your permission? You just agree. If I said let’s move on, you shut your mouth and say, ‘Yes, let’s move on.’ That’s all I wanted to hear.”
But.
The young man before him was no pushover.
“I don’t want to. Why should I? Why should I listen to you, Mr. President?”
You’re twisted even though you have everything. I’m twisted because I have nothing!
Lee Shin knew himself very well.
He had been born with a genetic condition. A disease that made thorns sprout in his mouth if he didn’t speak his mind. Its name was ‘bullshit syndrome.’
“And why are you getting so worked up? You’re the one who suggested doing business. From a business perspective, I’m the client and you, President Lee Chan-bin, are the supplier. Is it really so outrageous for a client to make a request of his supplier?”
“This bastard really doesn’t know his place!”
“Whoa there. You gonna hit me? If you do, I might just yelp ‘Ouch!’ and press the call button right here.”
“Are you threatening me? Me, Lee Chan-bin? Fine! Do whatever the hell you want. Shin Sung? Kirin? The number one construction company is my Ido Construction. One phone call from me and they’re all finished. Understand?”
“Ah, I see…”
Lee Shin looked past Lee Chan-bin’s shoulder.
“He says that’s how it is.”
“You son of a bitch, you dare go this far—”
The moment Lee Chan-bin raised his hand to strike again—
“Hah, honestly…”
A voice came from behind them.
The instant he heard it, Lee Chan-bin froze like a broken doll, all his earlier fury vanishing.
The voice continued.
“Tsk tsk, Cheol-ong. Look at him. A grown man calling a boy who’s practically his own son’s age ‘son of a bitch’ this and ‘son of a bitch’ that. What kind of family raised a child like that, hm?”
“My apologies.”
“They say seeing one thing tells you ten. What kind of home education produces a man who runs around outside shouting fuck and bastard and son of a bitch?”
“…My deepest apologies, Chairman.”
Indeed.
The owner of the voice standing by the elevator behind Lee Chan-bin was none other than Chairman Lee Sang-byuk and his right-hand man, Chief Secretary Yu Cheol-ong.
Perhaps because his master’s mood had been disturbed, Yu Cheol-ong swept the room with furious eyes.
At the silent command of Get lost, Lee Chan-bin’s entourage bowed deeply and scurried away.
Steady footsteps approached.
Lee Chan-bin remained frozen like a statue.
The only change was the cold sweat now pouring down his entire body.
“I came to congratulate you on your promotion, yet this is the lovely scene you show me.”
Without sparing his son a single glance, Lee Sang-byuk pulled out a chair as if it were the most natural thing in the world and sat down between them.
He plucked a cigarette from Lee Chan-bin’s pack on the table, put it between his lips, and said,
“Well then. Who’s going to explain?”
A short while later.
After grasping the full situation, Lee Sang-byuk first summoned the true culprits behind the mess.
The five men now kneeling before him were the site managers responsible for the stadium construction.
“Saudi Arabia, Iran, South Africa, Philippines, Russia. Pick one of the five. Where would you like to go?”
“C-Chairman…”
“We were wrong!!”
“Please show us mercy just this once!”
“I told you to choose, yet suddenly you’re begging for forgiveness. Fine. Let’s hear it. What exactly did you do wrong?”
“Well…”
The site managers exchanged glances, then rushed to confess their crimes.
They had engaged in dumping. Diverted materials. Accepted bribes. Withheld wages…
But Lee Sang-byuk simply dug at his ear with a bored expression.
“Come on, isn’t that just standard industry practice? Why is any of that wrong?”
“…!!”
“Your real mistake isn’t any of that. It’s that you got caught by me—Lee Sang-byuk.”
Lee Sang-byuk glanced at Lee Shin as if telling him to watch and learn, then continued.
“You know, when you sit at the top like this, there’s surprisingly little you can see. Right now all I can see is the tops of your heads. I have no idea what faces you’re making. Hell, you could be cursing me right now and I wouldn’t know.”
But.
“Once you sit in this seat, you stop caring about how any of you feel. That is the fate of whoever sits here. You cannot look at individuals. You must look only at the company. And then one day you realize it—yourself, caring more about contracts and numbers than about trust, faith, or respect.”
In a way, it was only natural.
A single signature moved hundreds of billions of won. He had over one hundred and fifty thousand employees under him. When you included the families they supported, the number easily exceeded six hundred thousand.
In that position, how could Lee Sang-byuk afford to be sentimental? How could he possibly pay attention to every single employee?
He could not. That was why he had to be a man of iron—for the sake of the empire called Ido Group.
That was the fate of those who sat above.
“You men are an example for this company.”
Lee Sang-byuk leaned forward and looked each of the five in the eye.
“I don’t care whether you did wrong or not. Wrongdoing is easy to attach after the fact. Your crime is simply that you were caught by me, and I happened to need an example right now.”
If you’re blinded by immediate profit and feel like committing corruption?
Then lift your heads and look at these men. Once you see them digging dirt in some remote wasteland, that profit will lose all its appeal.
Lee Sang-byuk was using them as a message to his one hundred and fifty thousand employees.
How efficient a method was that?
“Go and endure your punishment. Perhaps one day we’ll meet again. Cheol-ong, give these men generous vacation pay so they can enjoy time with their families before they leave for their new posts.”
“Understood.”
That was the end of it.
Once Yu Cheol-ong had left, only three men bearing the surname Lee remained in the vast space.
“Pathetic fool. What a fine display you put on in front of your subordinates.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
“You’re an elder of this family no matter how you look at it, yet this is how you behave.”
“I treated you as an elder. But you kept singing business, business the whole time…”
“Tsk, this bastard, right to the end!”
“…Yes, sir!”
Lee Sang-byuk first turned away from Lee Shin, who was puffing his cheeks out as if deeply wronged. The one who needed correction first was his second son, Lee Chan-bin, who still couldn’t act his age.
Lee Chan-bin, who strangely shrank into a coward the moment he stood before his father, couldn’t withstand the gaze today either. He kept his head bowed like a dead mouse. Lee Sang-byuk clicked his tongue repeatedly, clearly finding the sight pathetic.
“Lee Chan-bin.”
“Yes.”
“Second son.”
“…Yes, Father.”
“I believe I told you to handle this without personal feelings. Have you already forgotten?”
“N-no, I haven’t forgotten!”
“Then did that rascal from our house make an unreasonable demand of you?”
“…No. I acted rashly.”
“I know what’s in your heart. The way this place has been built, the way you’re constantly being compared to Myung-hwan in records and promotion news—it must have gotten under your skin. Still, you should have maintained your dignity.”
“…”
Lee Chan-bin couldn’t utter a word. The rebuke cut straight through every superficial layer and pierced his core.
Looking at his second son, Lee Sang-byuk clicked his tongue again.
“If you want to fight, fight your older brother. Leave the children’s squabbles to the children. Understood?”
“…I will keep it in mind.”
Lee Chan-bin bowed his head. That matter was settled.
Lee Sang-byuk turned toward Lee Shin.
As if he had read the room perfectly, Lee Shin blinked his large eyes and put on his most adorable expression.
Lee Sang-byuk gave a single nod, then—
Swung.
His hand.
With all his strength!
SMACK—!!
“—Kueeeek!!”
“You! This bastard! What did you say? Shin Sung Construction? Shiiin Suuung?!”
“No! B-but if I didn’t do that, Uncle wouldn’t have listened to me…!”
“Spout your nonsense somewhere else!”
SMACK—!!
“Aaaack—!! I was wrong!”
“Exactly, you brat.”
Lee Sang-byuk rolled up his sleeves and continued slapping Lee Shin’s back.
Lee Shin rolled across the floor, begging for mercy.
Lee Chan-bin rubbed his eyes, unable to believe what he was seeing. It was his father’s first time showing this side of himself.
To Lee Chan-bin, Lee Sang-byuk had always been an object of reverence.
More boss and subordinate than father and son. That was why even someone as rough as him became a docile lamb before the chairman.
Yet the sight of Lee Sang-byuk slapping the boy’s back was…
…just like a grandfather.
A genuine grandparent-grandchild relationship.
At that moment, an inexplicable sense of defeat, jealousy, and resentment surged through Lee Chan-bin. He clenched his teeth tightly.
Once the scolding finally ended, Lee Sang-byuk stood up, wiping sweat from his brow with his sleeve.
“Then I’ll take my leave. You two finish your discussion. All right?”
“You’re going?”
“It won’t take long. Let’s have dinner before you leave.”
“No need.”
He left.
Just like that, Lee Sang-byuk vanished like a passing storm.
Lee Shin broke the awkward silence.
“What should we do now? President? Or should I say… Uncle?”
Even now, the boy could still act so shamelessly. Lee Chan-bin stared at him with an exhausted expression before finally speaking.
“Call me Uncle.”
“All right. Uncle.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Since the site managers have already been replaced, I suppose I should get something in return.”
Even after everything, he was still determined to squeeze out every last drop.
Lee Chan-bin looked at the little rascal with a tired face.
At that moment, Lee Shin clapped his hands together, his face blooming into a bright smile.
Oh, that’s right! There was that.
He pulled out his phone, searched for something, and shoved the screen toward Lee Chan-bin.
“Uncle, I want this. This right here.”
“This is…? …!!”
Lee Chan-bin’s eyes, which had been narrowed in a frown, flew wide open.
What the screen displayed was the palace he had happened to see in a documentary just a few days earlier.
“Shall we start by laying down marble first?”
