Chapter 9
Chapter 9
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Inheritance
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“It's been a while since we've seen each other living under the same roof, hasn't it?”
“Yes, Chairman.”
Damn it, what the hell am I doing here right now?
I'd wanted to spend at least today just with my family.
Right now, I was in the main house living room with Chairman Jo Seong-gi.
Why? Because that damn bastard had ordered me to come straight to the main house the moment I got home.
He must want to say something about my acceptance to Seoul National University.
“Hahaha! I heard a while back that our Kang Hyeok was good at his studies, but I had no idea it was this good.”
“Ah, yes.”
Why the hell are you calling me our Kang Hyeok?
Don't you dare use 'our' so casually.
“So, you got into Seoul National University's Business School? Top of your department, no less?”
“Pardon? Top of the department?”
Me, top of the department?
There hadn't been anything like that in the acceptance announcement, so I had no clue.
Seoul National usually only publicized the overall top scorer to the press, while department tops were informally known only after enrollment.
“You wouldn't have known. Yeah, I looked into it myself, and you were top of the department.”
“Ah, I see.”
For a conglomerate like Cheonwang Group, one call from the secretary's office was all it took.
But top of the department? I'd figured I'd be in the upper ranks, but this was unexpected.
“Wow, truly impressive! Impressive! Seoul National Business School is one of the top departments, right up there with Law and Economics, isn't it?”
“Yes, that's my understanding.”
“Hahaha! This is a blessing for our family! Well done, my boy!”
“...”
Ah, seriously.
Now it's our family?
This is driving me insane.
“I'm thrilled you've turned into such an outstanding talent. Oh, you know our Min-cheol got into Goguryeo University, right?”
“Ah, yes. I heard. Congratulations, Chairman.”
“Pssh, congratulations my foot. I'm only saying this because you're family in the same household, but does that kid's grades even qualify for Goguryeo? You have no idea how much money I've poured into that brat. Damn it!”
“...”
Even with all that secret high-end tutoring, Jo Min-cheol's best had been scraping into the top 30 in his class by senior year.
He wasn't a total blockhead, but without any real effort, it was par for the course.
With scores like that, Seoul was out of the question—maybe some mid-tier private four-year college or community college far from the city.
Yet this guy had gotten into Goguryeo University Business School, one of the twin peaks of private universities, both back then and now.
How? Come on, why ask?
In an era where money and power could buy anything?
Especially for chaebols, near-chaebols, or top power players, faking admissions was risk-free.
Goguryeo had even made headlines in the early '90s with massive admissions scandals, but only small fry got caught—the big shots all walked.
That's why I always viewed chaebol kids' fancy degrees with suspicion.
Buildings donated for admission were all too common.
Except Seoul National, of course.
That place was brutally tough unless you had comparable scores, and chaebols usually avoided it anyway—it was too flashy. At best, they'd game foreign student quotas or special admissions.
Anyway, I'd assumed Jo Min-cheol got in by building a new dorm or something, and here Chairman Jo was spilling it straight to me.
While insisting we were 'family in the same house.'
“That kid, well... Hah! It's a bit awkward telling you this, but he's the type that needs a lot of hand-holding. You get what I mean?”
“No, well...”
“No need for me to spell it out—you know already. So, I'd love for you to keep being close to our Min-cheol, supporting him like you do now. Honestly, you two are like brothers, aren't you? Born and raised together in this house? Right?”
“...”
What the actual hell.
Brothers? Give me a break.
So because Min-cheol needs tons of babysitting, you're telling me to trail after him and clean up his messes?
Should I be happy about this?
From the Chairman's tone, it wasn't just house servant work anymore.
House duties plus company servant on the side?
Hey, you Jo Seong-gi bastard.
Trying to drown me in an ocean of emotion?
Anyway, I got why he'd called me here.
So I'd just nod along and get out.
“Yes, I understand.”
“Hahaha! Good, good. You've hardly set foot in the main house as you've grown up. Hey, we're family in the same house! Come and go freely, help Mi-jeong and Eun-jeong with their studies. You're their big brother, aren't you?”
“Th-that...”
Whoa!
Is top of Seoul National Business School worth this?
What? Big brother?
Jo Seong-gi's kids were one son and two daughters.
The son was, of course, Jo Min-cheol, the eldest.
Then two daughters: eldest Jo Mi-jeong two years younger, and youngest Jo Eun-jeong three years below her.
When we were little—elementary school age—we'd played together fine.
Mi-jeong and Eun-jeong had even called me 'oppa' back then.
But that changed at some point.
Jo Seong-gi's wife hated it.
By middle school, Mi-jeong and Eun-jeong looked at me like I was trash.
The youngest, Eun-jeong, still called me 'oppa' sometimes, but Mi-jeong? No chance.
And now they want me as 'oppa'?
What, planning to marry me off to one of them?
A house servant's son?
Of course not.
But this was the classic Jo family tactic for using people.
Hinting at a status upgrade, torturing with false hope.
Where do you get off selling that snake oil?
I know every trick you've peddled your whole life.
Ridiculous.
Oblivious to my thoughts, Chairman Jo kept going, all benevolent smile.
“School's pretty far, though, right? How about I lend you a car? Get your license and drive around.”
Are you nuts?
I want out of this house ASAP.
But yeah, Seoul National was far.
Home was Pyeongchang-dong, ritzy neighborhood back then; SNU was clear across south Seoul.
Which suited me fine.
“No thank you, Chairman. I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll have to live on my own. As you know, with the graduation quota system, I can't slack on studies now that I'm in.”
“Ah, right, the quota system.”
“Yes.”
I knew the quota system would be meaningless by my graduation—post-military service—but it made a perfect excuse.
“Well, that's a shame, but can't be helped. Still, visit home often.”
“Yes, Chairman.”
“And take this.”
Jo Seong-gi handed me a white envelope.
Whoa, cash envelope?
“Oh, you didn't have to.”
But I reached out without hesitation.
No reason to refuse free money.
“Heh heh heh! Look at you, so natural about it.”
“Haha, thank you.”
“Alright, head on out. Tell your father not to worry about the main house today or tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Chairman.”
That line pleased me more than the envelope.
Now I could really relax with Dad over drinks.
But when I opened the envelope outside...
“T-Ten million won?”
Ten million?
Insane!
Back then, jjajangmyeon was 500 won a bowl.
That's 20,000 bowls!
Jo Seong-gi was infamous even among chaebols for being stingy.
People were often disappointed even by his gold-day envelopes.
Ten million?
“Whoa, Seoul National packs a punch!”
Truly unexpected.
Fine, spend well.
On revenge against your family.
That evening, I celebrated my acceptance with my family.
Mom, Dad, and little Hye-jeong were over the moon.
“Oppa, so you're moving out to live alone?”
“Yeah, have to.”
“Ugh, lucky. Take me with you!”
“...”
This kid.
Shadows were starting to creep into Hye-jeong's face too.
Inevitable—she was entering middle school second year.
Time to realize she was the house servant's daughter.
How could I not understand?
“Hye-jeong.”
“Yeah, oppa?”
“Oppa promises: from high school, you'll live with me.”
“Really? For real?”
“Of course! But make a promise with oppa too.”
“What?”
“Study hard, listen to Mom and Dad. Got it?”
“Duh, when have I not? Dummy.”
“Puhaha! Yeah, I trust you. Remember what I say: two more years in this house. Hang in there. Okay?”
“Yeah! Oppa.”
“And never tell anyone this.”
“Why not?”
“Adult stuff. You'll understand by high school.”
“Tch! I think I get it already.”
“Huh? You do?”
“It's 'cause they hate us at Eun-jeong's house, right? Yeah?”
“...”
I forgot.
Kids of house servants mature fast.
Cold side-eyes do that.
Plus, Hye-jeong was same age as Min-cheol's little sister Eun-jeong.
No girl likes growing up eyeing her same-age lady of the house.
“My Hye-jeong's all grown up! Hahaha!”
“Ewww, oppa.”
“Yeah?”
“You mean it? I can really trust you?”
“Yeah, trust oppa.”
“Yeah! Hehehe!”
Yeah, trust me.
I'll make you the happiest girl in the world.
Just hang on a bit longer, Hye-jeong.
The day February began, I rented a room in Sinrim-dong and left home.
I couldn't stand another day there, so I used 'pre-enrollment studies' as an excuse.
Stepping into that room, for the first time in over 60 years of living, I felt true freedom.
I was finally free.
My heart felt so light.
Now it was just me and my family.
In two years, I'd get Hye-jeong out, then Mom and Dad from that pigsty.
With that resolve, I studied and trained harder than ever.
Time to build my strength.
Before I knew it, orientation day came; Mom, Dad, and Hye-jeong celebrated my enrollment.
Then in April, Jo Man-deok finally croaked—the wall-scribbling, shit-smearing old bastard who'd lived off paint thinner.
Jo Man-deok, you're surely roasting in hell—watch closely how I get revenge on your kids and grandkids.
Anyway, it was about time I made my move.
Late May.
I quietly rented a Bonggo van and headed to Kimje.
To claim the inheritance Jo Man-deok, dementia-ridden, never told his kids about.