Chapter 4
Chapter 4
“I’m sorry… truly…”
The man looked far older than his age, completely worn down. Even as Cho Min-gi listened, he felt no emotion—none of this felt real yet.
“You don’t have to apologize.”
That was all he could say.
“I’ve searched for you for so long. Really… for so long…”
“…….”
What should he say? To lie would feel disrespectful. Should he thank him for finding him? Or resent him for waiting so long?
[Beep… beep… beep…]
The only sound in the hospital room was the quiet pulse of the vital monitor.
The man lying before him was skeletal, his thin wrists showing veins so dark they almost looked black, as if they’d crumble under pressure.
His hollow cheekbones, protruding teeth, and once hollow eyes now sparkled with a glimmer of joy—and knowing it was because of him, Cho Min-gi felt a bitter twinge in his chest.
“But now, at least I’ve found you… I can rest easy… Please forgive me…”
Cho Min-gi had no emotions toward him, so there was nothing he truly could say.
More than resentment, he felt glad to finally meet him. But the man’s gaunt appearance made it hard to speak.
Yet, as someone standing at death’s door, deserving of some dignity, Cho Min-gi could at least offer a few words that would ease him.
“Now… let go of everything… rest… peacefully…”
“Y-yes… thank you.”
The doctor standing nearby leaned toward Cho Min-gi.
“You’ve talked too much. You need to rest now.”
“No… let me speak a little more… today may be the last day…”
He looked so fragile, yet his will to cling to life burned strong.
His eyes, gazing at Cho Min-gi, seemed to carry countless unspoken emotions.
What would it feel like to see your son for the first time, the only blood relative you had longed for so desperately? Especially at the very end of life…
Cho Min-gi could hardly imagine.
“You… you must live happily. Truly… live happily.”
It was a voice of desperate longing.
“Yes… I will.”
“Attorney Ko… will… help you.”
Even after he spoke, Cho Min-gi couldn’t move.
“…….”
This might be the last meeting with his biological father. Even without prior feeling, a surprising warmth slid down his cheeks.
He felt the gaze of Ko Yoon-seok beside him.
Anyone would feel compassion standing before a man so full of regret, nearing death.
It wasn’t love for a biological father—it was the human instinct to feel empathy.
And that empathy drew from Cho Min-gi something he never thought he would say.
“Rest… peacefully… Father…”
The word “father” came awkwardly to his lips, speaking to a man who had tirelessly searched for him, now crossing the river of death.
“T-thank you…”
A faint response, and the man smiled, as if hearing what he had longed to hear. He closed his eyes gently.
[Beep… beep… beep…]
Thankfully, the vital signs remained steady. The doctor nodded reassuringly.
Cho Min-gi bowed and left the room, Ko Yoon-seok following.
“The doctor says… today or tomorrow at the latest. About the funeral…”
“Will anyone even come?”
“He had many connections, but likely no one. He didn’t want it either.”
“Then the funeral will be here, at the hospital. The smallest venue.”
“Yes… I’ll handle it so it’s not troublesome.”
Cho Min-gi bowed again.
“Wait… I need a few documents.”
“Huh?”
“Your father… was meticulous, smart, and well-versed in finance. After his death, inheritance and paternity verification could be complicated, and taxes high.”
“What do you mean…?”
“Could you prepare a few documents now, including a certificate of seal impression?”
“Now?”
“Yes. The procedures must be completed before he passes.”
“No matter what….”
“This is what your father wanted.”
Cho Min-gi looked at Ko, a man in his fifties, polite and precise in speech.
“To briefly explain… your father’s wealth is immense. You can hardly imagine… it’s enormous.”
‘How much could it possibly be…’
Cho Min-gi nodded, emotionless, yet attentive.
“I understand.”
Jung In-seok survived another week before passing.
That week was the only time father and son, finally meeting, could be together.
Cho Min-gi stayed at the hospital almost constantly, by his father’s side.
Perhaps using all his remaining strength during the first meeting, he could no longer converse much afterward.
But his eyes spoke volumes.
A week later, in the early morning, he passed quietly.
The funeral was absurdly simple.
No one attended; Cho Min-gi sat alone in the empty room, Ko Yoon-seok occasionally bringing him meals.
Leaning against the wall, Cho Min-gi stared at his father’s photo.
The photo was taken before he was hospitalized; he looked almost the same, gaunt cheekbones, hollow cheeks, but this time smiling brightly.
The eyes… were twin-like, so much like Cho Min-gi’s.
To die at fifty-six in a world where the average lifespan is eighty…
Having achieved immense wealth… finally finding the son he longed for…
How he wished he’d met his father earlier, had more time to talk…
The reason Cho Min-gi hadn’t been found sooner was because he’d changed his number and stayed hidden.
His father’s life was tragic. If there was a god, such cruel games shouldn’t happen.
Strangely, Cho Min-gi didn’t shed a tear. He simply stared at the photo.
A lonely man, who’d lived without anyone, dying after a life of struggle to find his son.
At least he had met him before passing. That was some small solace.
The man in the photo had searched desperately to find him. How much he must have wanted to see Cho Min-gi… that’s how he knew he mattered.
“Now… rest in peace…”
Cho Min-gi whispered to the smiling figure in the photo.
“Father.”
After cremation, the ashes were enshrined and Cho Min-gi returned to Seoul.
“This house…?”
“This is where your father lived. He owned several properties, but this was his main residence.”
Could this even be called a house?
For Cho Min-gi, who had lived in a tiny boarding room, it felt like a vast playground.
“I registered Jung Jin-woo in the building management system. You can enter with the password I gave you.”
Ko Yoon-seok now addressed him as Jung Jin-woo.
“How much is the monthly maintenance here?”
Ko tilted his head.
“Hmm… a few million, but not ten million won.”
“Excuse me?”
What kind of maintenance costs millions per month?
“Don’t be surprised. I’ll give a brief overview… Are you well?”
“Yes, thanks to your care, I’m fine.”
Having gone through his adoptive parents’ funerals, he knew how exhausting it could be. But here, Cho Min-gi had only gazed at a photo and steadied his mind, eating meals Ko brought.
“Then, I’ll brief you now.”
Ko pulled a tablet from his bag and sat on the sofa.
“Most liquid assets are in bearer bonds, cash, or gold. Your father’s real estate was sold to companies he owed and will soon be transferred to your name. Most other assets are distributed across JW Corp., JW Development, JW Global. Stocks and shares are being processed, and once your name and family register are updated, they will belong to you.”
“JW?”
“It’s the company your father founded. Named after your initials.”
His desire to find his son was almost obsessive.
“I’ll brief you again once the name and registry update is complete.”
An immense fortune…
“Um… may I ask a somewhat foolish question?”
“Anything.”
“How much in cash?”
Ko adjusted his glasses.
“You take after your father. He always asked the same—‘How much in cash?’”
“I see…”
“Real estate and shares are hard to value, but liquid assets are roughly 120 billion won.”
“120… billion?”
Cho Min-gi’s eyes widened. A fortune in the hundreds of billions?
Ko chuckled at his reaction.
“Korea is handled. As for assets in the U.S…”
“U.S.? There are assets abroad too?”
“Yes. Scattered globally: oil, gold, rare earth mines, diamond mines, hotels, casinos, electronics, funds, IT, biotech, fashion, wineries, luxury brands…”
Cho Min-gi couldn’t process it; it passed through his ears without fully registering.
“Two entertainment companies, one distribution company, three global franchise restaurants, art galleries, auction houses…”
The list went on…
“Enough, that’s enough.”
Cho Min-gi had to stop him.
“Roughly, if all of this were converted into money… how much?”
“All converted into money?”
Ko asked, puzzled.
“Is that even possible?”
“In movies they say a trillion, ten trillion…”
“That’s for small-time wealthy people. At your father’s level, money can’t quantify it. Few reach that level.”
Cho Min-gi couldn’t fathom it. But hearing about gold, diamonds, rare earths, oil… even one such asset could be tens or hundreds of trillions.
“But… your father had one request.”
“What?”
“To help Jung Jin-woo live a new life.”
“I already feel like I’m living a new life…”
“No. He knew you’d been discriminated against, marginalized. He wanted you to live without shortage, a completely new life.”
“…….”
Cho Min-gi didn’t understand at first.
“For example, transferring to a university, studying abroad…”
“Studying… now?”
The handicap was real. The bitterness known to two-year college graduates. Being fired from SG Global because of a flimsy excuse.
“Your father wanted you to attend a proper, prestigious university.”
Ko summarized with a smile.
Cho Min-gi, now Jung Jin-woo, felt overwhelmed.
27 years old, considered old by society’s standards… and now told to study?