TOIGC 46

Chapter 46 …

Stress Relief, Corporate Style (2)

“Wait, what did you just say?”

At his older brother’s words, Choi Cheol-kyu stretched his facial muscles into an exaggerated look of pure confusion.

“Huh? I said I’ve been helping out with that department store construction project, so I could probably hook you up with a spot at the site’s field cafeteria.”

“You’ve been helping out with the department store project from the very beginning…?”

“Yeah. Oh, did I forget to mention that?”

Watching his younger brother chuckle as if it were no big deal, Cheol-min suddenly remembered a past conversation they had shared.

“This little bastard has been playing me for a fool!”

Frothing at the mouth, he lunged forward to grab his brother by the collar, but two police officers suddenly burst out from inside the front gate of Cheol-kyu’s courtyard.

“Who do you think you’re laying hands on, punk?”

“You got a death wish?”

Pinned flat against the ground and subdued in the blink of an eye, Cheol-min was too flustered and bewildered to even process what was happening.

“W-What the hell! Who do you guys think you are?!”

A man wearing the insignia of a senior patrol inspector struck Cheol-min sharply across the back of the head and snapped back.

“Who do we look like, you little scumbag? We’re the pillars of justice. Trying to assault an innocent citizen right out in broad daylight? Want to spend the next three months eating nothing but prison gruel in a holding cell?”

“Let me go! I said, let go of me!”

Though he understood the situation well enough, the sheer injustice of it all drove Cheol-min to let out a shriek of absolute fury.

The officers didn’t loosen their grip by so much as a fraction, while Cheol-kyu calmly walked over, bent down at the waist, and looked down at his older brother.

“So, hyung, what’s it going to be? Are you going to give up on having your wife work at the cafeteria? I can at least make sure you guys don’t starve to death, but if you don’t like it, you can forget it.”

Realizing to his horror that he had been dancing in the palm of Yoongi’s hand the entire time, Cheol-min burst into ragged tears.

“Aaaaaagh!!”

All he could do was unleash a wail that sounded more like a dying shriek.

A short while later, Cheol-min dragged himself back to the flophouse, having reluctantly agreed to let his wife take the job.

“Senior Inspector Seo, thank you for your help today.”

Stepping back into his living room, Cheol-kyu smiled and offered polite thanks to the senior inspector sitting in the guest chair—though he made a point of not bowing.

“Oh, nonsense. Don’t mention it. It’s only natural that we help out.”

The name tag pinned to the officer’s uniform read Seo In-pyo. He was a connection Cheol-kyu had carefully cultivated at the Jongno Police Station using his ties to JSD. Unlike relationships bought purely with cash, this one came with swift support upon request, and best of all, it didn’t require him to grovel.

“Oh, and please take this as a small token of my appreciation for your continued support.”

As Cheol-kyu slid a slightly yellowish envelope across the table, Seo In-pyo started, hastily waving his hands in denial.

“Now, really, you shouldn’t have. I’d be more than happy to help you out without any of this.”

“Come on, it’s only right that I support your department’s operational expenses. A man’s gotta eat to live, so please use this to treat your junior officers to a nice dinner gathering.”

Rising from his seat, Cheol-kyu folded the envelope in half and slipped it directly into the front breast pocket of Seo In-pyo’s shirt. Seo In-pyo accepted it with only the barest pretense of resistance.

“Since you’re thoughtful enough to look out for us, I’ll gratefully accept.”

With a grin stretching almost from ear to ear and three deep wrinkles on his forehead bunching up further, the thickness of the envelope was painfully obvious even to the junior officers standing guard near the door.

“Oh, and whenever the detective division feels like grabbing a bite, please feel free to stop by the cafeteria anytime. Treating you all to a simple meal is the least I can do.”

“Oh, really? Can we actually do that? To be honest, the pockets of the boys down at the precinct have been looking pretty light lately.”

“Of course. Just drop by whenever you’re in the neighborhood and keep an eye on things—that’s more than enough for me.”

“I’ll make sure to tell the boys to be extra vigilant around here.”

Watching Senior Inspector Seo nod and bow his head slightly without even realizing he was doing it, Cheol-kyu smiled inwardly.

[Man, I really wish Yoongi could see this exact moment.]

As it turned out, Yoongi was already watching.

<Hoh.>

The second son of Samwoo Group’s Chairman. The second daughter-in-law of Samwoo Group’s Chairman. The grandson of Samwoo Group’s Chairman.

None of those titles meant a single thing when it came to shredding radishes.

Preparing meals for 450 people during the sweltering heat of summer was no joke, and as a result, Park Gyeong-ja’s clothes were already thoroughly soaked through with sweat.

Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack!

“Slice like that and you won’t finish until the cows come home!”

When the cafeteria owner slammed the blunt edge of a kitchen knife down against Gyeong-ja’s forearm, she let out a sharp gasp of pain.

“S-Sorry…”

Gone was the fierce, venomous arrogance of the past. Gyeong-ja’s face was so completely overshadowed by gloom that it seemed devoid of any light whatsoever. At least her parents had ‘reluctantly’ agreed to look after their son, Jeong-gi; otherwise, the constant worry over the boy being left alone all day would have driven her insane.

“Hurry up and cut! Jeez, you’re driving me crazy!”

The cafeteria owner, a woman in her early fifties, possessed a booming voice and the seasoned toughness of someone who had survived years running a business at construction sites. Looking at the scene from the outside, anyone would naturally wonder why she bothered hiring an unskilled hand like Gyeong-ja in the first place.

The reason, of course, was simple.

She was working for ‘free.’

Gyeong-ja and Cheol-min were receiving barely enough wages to keep skin clinging to bone, and even that pittance was subsidized directly by the construction office, leaving the owner with zero reason to refuse.

The construction office had given the owner only one instruction:

[Work them to the bone. Just make sure they don’t die or get permanently maimed.]

As a result, while the owner played the role of the screaming tyrant on the outside, on the inside she was having the time of her life.

“Hey! Hurry up and wash those! Wash ’em fast or you’ll never finish slicing!”

Taking advantage of the moment, the owner delivered a sharp smack straight across Cheol-min’s back with a wooden paddle.

Startled out of his skin, Cheol-min frantically doubled the speed at which he was scrubbing the radishes, which inevitably sent his physical stamina plummeting toward zero.

“Hah! Hah!”

“Jeez, just how sheltered of a life have you lived for your stamina to be this pathetic? What a waste of a pair of balls.”

Because they had been explicitly warned that the moment anyone found out they were the son and daughter-in-law of Samwoo Group’s Chairman, they would be tossed out instantly, the couple kept their mouths shut tight. They felt hot tears pricking at the corners of their eyes, but they kept right on working.

If they stopped, they would starve to death.

They had desperately tried to find work elsewhere for nearly a month, but everywhere they went, local thugs or police officers would immediately show up, brandishing the label of ‘communist’ and getting them fired almost on the spot.

In the end, after Cheol-min literally begged his younger brother with tears and sweat, he had managed to secure a spot working alongside his wife at the construction cafeteria—though whether that counted as a blessing or a curse was up for debate.

The pay was absolute pocket change anyway. From Yoongi’s perspective, it was a tidy ‘buy-one-get-one-free’ arrangement with zero downside.

Screeech—!

Suddenly, the door to the construction cafeteria kitchen flew open, and Yoongi walked in alongside Ryu Geun-tae.

A wave of suffocating steam and blistering heat immediately washed over them, but Yoongi didn’t show a hint of displeasure. Instead, he looked at Cheol-min and Gyeong-ja with a cold, mocking smirk.

Ryu Geun-tae mirrored his expression.

“Oh, Boss! Welcome!”

At the owner’s hurried, deep bow, Ryu Geun-tae nodded, though his face quickly twisted into a frown.

“You’ve got great manners, Boss, but those people over there didn’t even bother acknowledging us. That’s really rubbing me the wrong way.”

Without missing a beat, the cafeteria owner marched right up behind Cheol-min and Gyeong-ja, bringing down a heavy hand conditioned by years of kitchen labor straight across the back of their heads.

Thwack! Thwack!

“The Boss is here and you’re not even going to greet him?! What do you think you’re doing!”

“A-Ahn-yeonghaseyo.”

“Hello…”

Ryu Geun-tae shook his head slowly.

“Lacks sincerity.”

Though Cheol-min and Gyeong-ja immediately bowed and greeted them again, Ryu Geun-tae found yet another excuse to pick a fight.

After this cycle repeated a few times, the two finally realized precisely who they were supposed to be greeting. With quiet tears leaking from their eyes, they locked eyes directly with Yoongi and bowed deeply.

“There. That’s how you greet people.”

Wearing a look of profound satisfaction, Ryu Geun-tae turned to the cafeteria owner.

“Do the police drop by often these days?”

“Well, how many guys are even in the detective division anyway? Still, a few of them come by to eat every day. Some show up for breakfast, others drop in for dinner.”

“If you ever feel like you’ve got leftover food at the end of the day, pack some up for the cops to take home as side dishes for their families.”

“Huh? Well, I don’t know about that…”

Seeing the owner hesitate, Ryu Geun-tae offered a warm, avuncular smile.

“Just factor the extra food into the total count and bill the construction office accordingly. Simple as that, right?”

“Oh, absolutely!”

“Just make sure you only report the exact amount you handed out to the office. You understand what I mean, right?”

At Ryu Geun-tae’s softly veiled threat—just as she was mentally calculating how much she could pocket on the side—the owner hastily nodded her head.

“Of course! Of course I’ll report it accurately when I hand it over.”

“Right then, I’ll leave the rest in your capable hands.”

With that final remark, Yoongi turned and walked out of the kitchen alongside Ryu Geun-tae.

Though the steam had left his clothes slightly damp with sweat, Yoongi’s expression radiated pure, unadulterated satisfaction.

A short while later, Ryu Geun-tae and Yoongi stepped into the air-conditioned site office, where the cool relief hit them instantly.

“Ah, now this is living.”

Ryu Geun-tae glanced around before speaking informally to Yoongi, spotting a police inspector and a patrolman sitting comfortably and enjoying frozen juice pops.

Chomp.

“Oh, Inspector Park. Pretty heavenly in here, huh?”

At Ryu Geun-tae’s casual greeting, the inspector—currently eating a strawberry-flavored pop—jumped up in a panic, followed quickly by the patrolman beside him.

“Ah, President Ryu!”

“Relax, take it easy. Sit back down. It’s hot out, and police work is exhausting enough as it is.”

“Oh, no, no! We’ve had a great break, we’ll be going now!”

Inspector Park practically grabbed the junior patrolman by the scruff of the neck and hustled him out of the office, leaving behind only Kim Jeong-sun and Yoongi’s closest confidant, Yoo Jin-hee.

“Must be getting pretty busy lately, huh?”

At Yoongi’s prompt, Kim Jeong-sun offered a respectful bow.

“With a massive wave of capital pouring in, we’re currently in the middle of hiring new recruits. Things are running a hell of a lot smoother than before.”

“Hoh, so you’re saying it used to be absolute hell?”

Though Yoongi teased with a playful glint in his eye, Kim Jeong-sun panicked and waved his hands frantically.

“Oh, no, no, not at all! That’s not what I meant by—”

“Just kidding.”

At Yoongi’s soft chuckle, everyone in the office burst into laughter, instantly melting away the lingering stiffness brought on by the police officers’ presence.

“Anyway, how’s construction coming along? Everything running smoothly?”

“Steaming ahead without a hitch. At this rate, we won’t have to worry about funding shortages all the way until completion.”

The capital freshly injected into the current project accounted for a staggering 95 percent of Chairman Choi Kihyun’s personal fortune, while any remaining mathematical gaps were neatly plugged by his father, Choi Cheol-ho.

Of course, because the funds were legally transferred to Yoongi through inheritance structures, Yoongi still retained 100 percent ownership equity in the department store.

“Glad to hear construction is on track. Would it be safe to assume interior fitting will start around next year?”

“Most likely, yes.”

“In that case, it’s time to set our sights on the next phase.”

As Yoongi spoke, his mind drifted across the vast expanse of the American continent.

Autumn of the final year of elementary school.

Though it was a weekday and he ought to have been stuck at school, Yoongi was currently thousands of miles away in the United States.

“Oh, my God!”

Andrew pulled Yoongi into a tight, enthusiastic hug as if genuinely thrilled to see him.

“How are your studies coming along?”

Impressed by how naturally fluent Yoongi’s English had become, Andrew blinked in surprise.

“Have you actually been staying in the US this whole time? Your English improved out of sight.”

“I usually bounce back and forth during school breaks, but I spent the entire summer vacation back in Korea this time. I had a few things to take care of.”

“Man, that’s still incredible. Whenever I see students from Korea or Japan coming over here to study abroad, they spend all their time cramming grammar and can’t even string a single sentence together when they arrive.”

“Well, that’s just the classic byproduct of rote education systems.”

With a casual shrug, Yoongi settled down to chat with Andrew about various topics.

“I really need you to grow up already. Since it’ll still be a while before you’re legally an adult, I’m currently stuck working as a postdoc.”

Hearing Andrew refer to himself as a postdoc—often called the temporary gig workers of the academic research world—Yoongi smiled.

“I’ll make sure the time you’re investing in your postdoc work is never wasted.”

“Ha! I’ll hold you to that. Honestly, as long as I get to dive deep into mathematics, I don’t care what the application is.”

Though the research lab was somewhat dim and gloomy, the bright, glowing aura of hope made the entire atmosphere feel vibrant.

“Come to think of it, I’m actually in the middle of building a department store back in Korea right now.”

“A department store? Wow, you’ve already started scaling up businesses? Though, if it’s retail, I suppose there isn’t much room for me to get involved.”

Yoongi smiled and shook his head.

“For anything math-related, just hold tight a little longer. Anyway, I’m planning to kick off the interior architecture phase soon—do you happen to know anyone in your circle with an interior design background who’s looking for work? Age doesn’t matter.”