The Oyang Group Families (1)
Ha Taewoong? Why is he here?
Lee Hyoju was thoroughly flustered. Of all the places a person might choose for their first round of golf, what were the odds it would be Shail CC out in Chungcheong Province? And now, less than a day later, she was face-to-face with Ha Taewoong again. He was wearing the golf outfit her mother had picked out for him at the department store yesterday, complete with the hat she had chosen as an accessory—and he had appeared as if by magic. Out in the open air, Taewoong looked every bit the lean, long-limbed male pro golfer.
“Who the hell are you?!”
Lee Jeongho, a boy who feared nothing in the world, raised his voice. Irritation boiled up at the sudden uninvited guest. He had been buzzing with excitement at the thought of thoroughly dismantling Lee Hyoju, who had walked right into his trap today—only for this interloper to appear and ruin everything. The moment he saw the silhouette, his mood soured. Jeongho himself topped out around a hundred and seventy centimeters. The stranger standing against the sun, however, had a model’s elongated frame and a face with clean, handsome lines. At a glance, you could easily mistake him for some rising celebrity. No wonder Jeongho’s already frayed temper made his voice spike without preamble.
“We’ve never met… and you’re already talking down to me?”
Ha Taewoong knew exactly who Lee Jeongho was. He let out a short, mocking laugh and dumped gasoline straight onto the sputtering spark.
“So what? I’m talking down to you. What are you gonna do about it?!”
Jeongho had built his foundation through sports and had never been one to look before he leaped. The fact that his cousin was showing interest only poured more fuel on the fire. On top of that, Hyoju had been forced into the humiliating position of admitting she had no friends—only for this stranger to show up, wreck the atmosphere, and act like he knew her.
Who the hell is this bastard? Hyoju went to an all-girls middle school.
Jeongho had attended the same private elementary school in Gangnam as Hyoju. Back then she had still had a decent number of friends. Then one day, for reasons no one understood, she cut every last one of them off. Something had wounded her among her peers, and she had simply shut her heart. After that came an all-girls middle school. So how did she suddenly have a guy she knew? Hyoju normally didn’t even mingle with the royal families of other conglomerates.
“Short in height and short on manners, huh? Must be because your cerebrum and cerebellum are just as tiny.”
Taewoong prodded Jeongho deliberately. Even on ordinary days, Jeongho hated nothing more than being called short or stupid.
“You wanna die, you son of a bitch?!”
Unable to hide his temper, Jeongho glared and spat the curse. That level of reaction from him was usually enough to make people lower their eyes.
“You got the skills to back that up?”
“What? You little—!”
In that instant Jeongho lost control and threw a punch—
“Lee Jeongho! What do you think you’re doing?!”
Lee Hyoju quickly stepped in front of Taewoong.
“Move! I’m killing that bastard today!”
Jeongho had been born with a fiery temper. His feelings for Hyoju had swollen like a snowball until he was completely out of his mind.
“Have you forgotten Grandfather is inside?”
“…….”
That single line from Hyoju snapped Jeongho back to reality. Their grandfather loathed violence. Non-violence was practically the first commandment of their family education.
“Grrk.”
Jeongho ground his teeth, unable to swallow his rage.
“Hyoju, who’s this?”
Lee Hyoeun seized the opening and asked. Who is this guy? He’s good-looking. And he’s got presence. Hyoeun practically lived at clubs more than at home and made a point of checking out every hot spot. Once she had gotten into the university the family expected of her, she had been granted a measure of freedom. After that she had enjoyed a life free of interference in her personal affairs. With her surgically refined looks she had practically conquered the clubs around Gangnam and Hongdae, and she kept close ties with like-minded second-generation kids from other conglomerates. Even to someone as well-acquainted with faces as Hyoeun, Taewoong’s looks stood out immediately.
“Ha Taewoong. I’m a friend from Hyoju’s class.”
“Same class at Cheonghwa High?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my. Then you’re my junior?”
“Unnie, Taewoong is…”
Hyoju found Hyoeun’s open interest burdensome. If the fact that he was a Sabaeja came out here, it would be a disaster. Multiple worries tangled in her head until it ached; she bit her lip.
“Hyoju.”
“Huh? Yeah.”
“Is your mother inside?”
“Yeah, she is. But…”
“Then I should go pay my respects.”
Taewoong was utterly unhesitating.
“Hey, you bastard! Who the hell are you to go pay respects?!”
Jeongho’s voice was thick with hostility, his mood thoroughly twisted. Taewoong turned to him and flashed a bright grin.
“Cute kid.”
“What? What did you just say?”
Who is this bastard? Ha Taewoong? He goes to our school?
Cheonghwa High had ten classes per grade, with about twenty students per class. The arts-and-sports track kids were fixed in Class 10 from the start of first year. Jeongho had zero interest in the regular classes. Today was the first he had ever heard that a Ha Taewoong even existed at Cheonghwa High. Besides, Jeongho didn’t mix with anyone outside his own circle. To even hold a conversation with him, you had to be roughly on his level. He had lived—and continued to live—with a thoroughly royal-family mindset.
I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere…
No matter how hard he racked his brain, the name Ha Taewoong simply did not exist anywhere in his memory.
“What are you waiting for? Let’s go.”
“Taewoong…”
Taewoong strode ahead without the slightest hesitation toward the halfway house. A flustered Hyoju silently followed behind him.
“What’s with that guy?”
With the eyes of someone who had just discovered an entertaining new toy, Hyoeun trailed after them as well.
“Fuck.”
Deciding he had been ignored, Jeongho spat the curse.
“Hyung. Let’s go check it out too.”
The youngest, Lee Jeonghun, turned a quiet, hyena-like smile on Jeongho. Looks like something fun is about to happen… He had always regarded his older brother as an idiot and harbored the quiet ambition of one day crushing him. Now he led that brother toward the halfway house.
In my previous life I had never been seriously entangled with Lee Jeongho. This time, though, he had already taken a personal dislike to me. He was a green brat who didn’t even know the basics—charging in without sizing up his opponent. He had cornered Lee Hyoju with completely baseless nitpicking. His mental age was substandard. In the past I would have avoided a situation like this at all costs. No—such a situation would never have arisen in the first place. But the board had changed. Even now my crypto account was on fire. The fundamental confidence that came with a full wallet was part of it, but not the whole story. My heart simply refused to flutter, as if I had always been this way. I didn’t particularly want to admit it, but I was a man of the Ha clan. Haryun had spent a full century amassing wealth in South Korea; it was a family with real bones. I was the fifth generation of the Haryun Group—the youngest contender in the succession. The chaebol blood running through my veins was a foundation that could not be hidden. The way I kept getting drawn into Hyoju’s orbit suggested I was fated to cross paths with the Oyang Group family as well. In the past I had lived through, Oyang Group had slid down into the top-100 conglomerate rankings, roughly level with the Daeryong Group where I had worked. Project-financing blowups had shattered Oyang Construction and dragged everything else down with it. The chemical division had missed its restructuring window and never escaped the red. The leisure business had tanked under mounting domestic consumer complaints. Even the family newspaper, Doa Ilbo, had gone limp after the change in administration. For all those reasons Oyang Group had been walking the path of decline; then succession disputes had erupted and lawsuits between affiliates had proliferated. Right before my regression, news had broken that the chairman had died of hwabyeong—anger illness.
Ssshhh.
The automatic doors of the halfway house slid open. It was only a mid-round rest space, yet the facilities were far from small. The place was large enough for about thirty people to dine together. High-end tables and chairs were spaced generously apart. Marble floors and a sleek modern atmosphere rivaled any five-star hotel.
And then—
“Father. Is the food to your liking?”
“You managed to prepare the makgeolli I like.”
“I had it brought in ahead of time.”
Two tables had been pushed together. At the head sat a healthy-looking old man who immediately drew the eye. Around the long table sat middle-aged men; behind them, a row of middle-aged women in refined golf attire. The royal family of Oyang Group.
Step by step, I walked toward them. The future heirs of Oyang Group trailed after me in a little procession. Every gaze that had been centered on the table naturally swung toward me.
“Oh!”
Lee Hyoju’s mother reacted first. She spotted me and started in surprise.
“Taewoong!”
She came straight over, greeting me warmly.
“Ma’am.”
I stopped and bowed my head in polite greeting—the picture of a well-mannered young man.
Flash.
The Oyang Group chairman seated at the center studied me carefully.
Flash! Flash!
Everyone else’s eyes did the same. I met their stares without the slightest flinch or awkwardness, smiling the whole while.
“Girl. Who is this?”
the Oyang Group chairman asked. I still didn’t know his name. Neither before nor after had the press ever really exposed it. Today was the first time I had seen his face. First impressions suggested a stubborn, upright temperament. The fact that he had summoned not only his children but his grandchildren as well on a precious weekend told me enough about his character.
“…….”
I looked straight into the old man’s eyes. An encounter with the Oyang Group chairman that the old Sabaeja Ha Taewoong would never have been permitted.
Smoothly, I bowed once more with full formality.
And then:
“I am Ha Taewoong, a second-year student at Cheonghwa High and a friend of Hyoju’s.”
I enunciated every syllable of the three-character name of the man I had become.