Han Joon-seong set his menu aside. "Let's not waste time. What exactly did you want to talk about?"
Han Do-yun smiled — a polished, elegant smile that showed a row of perfectly white teeth. He leaned back in his chair with the ease of someone who knew the room belonged to him.
"A businessman. I like that. I'll be direct, then." He folded his hands on the table. "Would you be interested, in any capacity, in joining the Juhwang-pa?"
Han Joon-seong's expression didn't change. He simply looked at Han Do-yun, his face unreadable, and said nothing.
Han Do-yun took the silence as consideration. Confidence flickered behind his eyes. He leaned forward slightly, his voice taking on a more persuasive edge.
"Look, you don't need to worry. I know it's a large organization, and I know there are certain… entanglements we have to manage. But I'll be honest with you, you're talented. Genuinely. If you join our group, you'd have real potential. You could be useful to us. I might even be able to fast-track your rise to an Executive within the Juhwang-pa. Someone with your skills doesn't stay at the bottom for long."
Han Joon-seong raised a hand, cutting him.
"Wait. Stop. Slow down." His voice was flat. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Han Do-yun paused. He studied Han Joon-seong's face, searching for any trace of irony or flicker of sarcasm. There was none. The expression staring back at him was perfectly, utterly neutral.
"You're joking," Han Do-yun said. "You really have no idea about the gangs of Busan?"
Han Joon-seong crossed his arms. "No, actually. I was aware of that loan sharking circle you had going on. But I thought it was an isolated case. I didn't realize it was anything bigger than that."
Han Do-yun stared at him for a long moment. Then he let out a small sigh and settled back in his chair.
"Alright," he said. "Then let me give you an introduction. Busan, for the last ten— almost eleven, years, has been dominated by three main gangs."
He held up one finger.
"First, the Galsaek-pa. They control the old market district. Protection money, mostly. Every shop that wants to stay open without trouble pays them a cut. They've been around the longest, and they're the most… traditional, let's say. Not much ambition for expansion, but they hold their territory tight."
He held up a second finger.
"Second, the Kkachi-pa. They operate credit offices further north. Similar to what we do. Higher interest rates, shorter tempers. They feed off people who have nowhere else to turn — the desperate, the cornered. Not exactly subtle, but effective."
He held up a third finger.
"And then there's us. The Juhwang-pa. We run loan shops near the university. Fast money, easy approvals, reasonable terms... at first. We also have stakes in businesses all over the city. Restaurants, clubs, real estate. We're more… diversified than the others. More professional."
He lowered his hand and looked at Han Joon-seong with a faint, expectant smile.
Han Joon-seong raised an eyebrow. "The way you tell it, it sounds like your main source of income is the university. How does a university of a little over three hundred people sustain an entire organization?"
Han Do-yun let out a laugh, bright and genuine. "Ah, no, no. Forgive me. That's not it at all. We're not that limited in scope." He leaned forward, his tone shifting into something more explanatory. "We're located near the university, yes, but we're not confined to it. Like I said, we have investments. We've loaned money to a number of businesses across the city. In some cases, that means we hold a portion of ownership. We also run establishments of our own. Bars, for instance. And we deal in certain… items, here and there, that fall outside the strictly legal."
Han Joon-seong's eyebrow stayed raised. "Drugs?"
Han Do-yun shrugged. "Depends."
They stared at each other for a moment. Ervin, watching from his elevated perspective, crossed his imaginary arms. 'Alright. So they really are bad guys. Proper villains. Still don't get something, though.'
His gaze drifted to Lee Hye-jin, who was sitting quietly beside Han Joon-seong, her hands still folded in her lap. "Why is this girl here again? Is she relevant to this conversation? What's she doing at this table?" His eyes moved from her face downward, settling on her bust for a moment. He pursed his imaginary lips, considering. "Well. I'm not complaining. Honestly, nice to have her around."
The waiter arrived, crisp and efficient in his white uniform. "Have you decided on your orders?"
Han Do-yun gave his selection without hesitation, something light, a soup and a grilled fish dish. The waiter turned to Han Joon-seong.
Han Joon-seong looked down at the menu. The names still meant nothing to him. He pointed at one at random, something near the bottom of the page with a price that looked suitably expensive.
The waiter noted it and turned to Lee Hye-jin. "And for the lady?"
She looked up, flustered. "Ah, no — I don't have the money to pay for — "
Han Joon-seong cut her off with a gentle look, a small smile softening his features. "Who said anything about payment? Just pick whatever you feel like eating. We'll handle the rest."
She stared at him for a beat, then nodded, her voice quiet. "Alright." She pointed to a dish on the menu — something modest, mid-range. The waiter collected the menus, bowed, and departed.
Han Do-yun folded his hands on the table. "So. What do you think of the offer?"
Han Joon-seong was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was measured, deliberate. "Mr. Han Do-yun. Before anything else, I want to say that I didn't come here interested in making deals. I came here thinking more about resolving our differences. Honestly, I don't want to be an enemy of your gang. But that doesn't mean I want to be an ally of it, either."
He paused. Han Do-yun watched him, waiting.
Then, flat and quick: "No. I'm not a criminal. Even if you offered me money, I'm not exactly short in that area. So it doesn't matter to me."
Han Do-yun looked at him for a long moment. Then he lowered his gaze and nodded, a quiet resignation settling over his features. "I see. That's a shame. A real shame."
After that, the conversation shifted into something more casual. They talked idly while waiting for the food — Han Do-yun asking about Han Joon-seong's training routine, Han Joon-seong deflecting with vague answers, both of them skimming the surface of genuine dialogue. But Ervin, observing from above, noticed that even though the conversation flowed naturally enough, Han Do-yun's tone had changed. It was slightly cooler now. A little more distant.
'Was that enough to complete the mission?' Ervin wondered. 'He doesn't seem exactly friendly. I think he's a little disappointed.' He sighed internally. 'Well, I tried my best. If it wasn't enough, it wasn't enough. I'll try again some other day.' But then a darker thought surfaced. "What if the mission never changes? What if it just sits there forever, incomplete? That's a problem."
Through Han Joon-seong's eyes, Ervin looked at Han Do-yun again. "Look," Han Joon-seong said, his voice earnest. "I really don't want any bad blood between us. I know you had expectations about recruiting me into your gang, but that's completely off the table. I mean it. I hope there's no enmity between us."
Han Do-yun waved a hand, his smile returning with practiced ease. "Ah, no. Please. There's no need to worry. There's no enmity at all."
Ervin studied his face. The smile was polished, the tone was warm, but he couldn't tell if the man was genuinely unbothered or simply hiding it well. "I can't tell if he's forgiven me or not. Or if he's angry. That face doesn't give anything away."
The food arrived.
For Han Do-yun, a delicate tray of grilled mackerel and a bowl of clear soup. For Lee Hye-jin, a modest bibimbap in a stone pot, still sizzling. And for Han Joon-seong —
The waiter set down a platter so large it barely fit on the table. ", ", braised short ribs, glistening with a dark, glossy sauce, surrounded by an elaborate arrangement of ginkgo nuts, chestnuts, jujubes, and vegetables carved into delicate shapes. Steam rose from the dish in fragrant clouds. The portion was meant for at least three people.
Han Joon-seong stared at it, mouth slightly open.
Han Do-yun looked at the platter, then at Han Joon-seong, and a flicker of genuine amusement crossed his face. "Well. I didn't know you had such an appetite, Mr. Han Joon-seong. I hope you enjoy the food here."
Han Joon-seong closed his mouth. He picked up his chopsticks. The food was, by any measure, extraordinary.
—
They ate. The conversation, sparse now, drifted into comfortable silence punctuated by the clink of utensils and the low murmur of the restaurant around them. When the plates were cleared and the tea had been refreshed for the final time, Han Do-yun leaned back in his chair and studied Han Joon-seong with renewed interest.
"What about contract work?"
Han Joon-seong looked up. "Contract work?"
"Yes. You don't need to join our gang directly. We simply want you to work with us on certain… external assignments. We pay you for your services. What do you think?"
Han Joon-seong considered this. "What kind of contract work?"
"Nothing too serious. What would you say to collection work?"
A smile tugged at the corner of Han Joon-seong's mouth, though his words came out sharp. "You want me to knock on innocent people's doors and beat them up for money?"
Han Do-yun laughed, a full, easy sound. "No, no. Nothing like that. If you prefer, we can give you one of the bigger fish. We have more than one troublemaker who owes us money, and none of our subordinates seem competent enough to handle the problem. We've clashed with a few of them several times, and nothing came of it. So. What do you say?"
Han Joon-seong paused, and behind his eyes, Ervin turned the offer over in his mind. "I could consider that."
Han Do-yun's smile widened. "Great. Excellent." He reached for a napkin on the table, produced a pen from his jacket, and wrote a number in quick, neat strokes. He slid the napkin across the table. "Here's my number. When you reach a conclusion, call me."
Han Joon-seong picked up the napkin, read the digits, and nodded. "Thank you. I will."
—
They left the restaurant as the afternoon light was beginning to soften into gold. Han Do-yun stretched, adjusted his jacket, and gave them both a short, polite bow. "Well. I'll be off now. Have a good afternoon."
He walked away down the stone path, hands in his pockets, vanishing into the flow of the city.
Han Joon-seong stood outside the restaurant with Lee Hye-jin beside him. He looked up at the sky, watching the first hints of orange creep into the blue. "Looks like we wasted the whole day."
She shook her head quickly. "Ah — well, it does feel like the day passed very quickly."
Two hours had slipped by inside that restaurant, swallowed by conversation and food. Now the sun was beginning its slow descent.
"Miss Lee Hye-jin," Han Joon-seong said, turning to her. "Would you like me to walk you home?"
She glanced up at him, then looked away, a touch of shyness creeping into her posture. "Oh, no, my place is kind of far. I'll just take the bus."
"Right. Of course."
They stood there for a moment, neither moving. Ervin, floating above, felt a familiar uncertainty creep over him. He had never been good at talking to people, never good at this kind of thing — the dance of words, the flutter of possibility. But she was very pretty. And he was already here...
"Screw it!!"
He gave the command.
Han Joon-seong looked at Lee Hye-jin. "So, Miss Lee Hye-jin. Should we exchange numbers?"
She blinked. Her eyes went wide, then impossibly brighter. "Ah — yes. Yes! Of course." She fumbled for her phone, her cheeks flushing pink, her fingers trembling just slightly as she unlocked the screen.
They traded phones, entered their numbers, and traded back. Han Joon-seong handed her phone to her with a small smile. She clutched it to her chest like something precious.
"There," he said. "Now if you ever need help again, you can call me directly. No need to search the whole city."
She nodded, her voice a little breathless. "Thank you. Really. For everything."
He gave her one last nod, then turned and began walking in the direction of his apartment.