The sound of pooled water and shoes striking it rang out. Jaeheon, entering the house that still reeked of acrid smoke, stood still and turned only his head to look around.
Wallpaper soaked from the sprinklers’ deluge, the leather sofa worth tens of millions of won bore stark water stains, and the solid wood coffee table, already swollen with water, was on the verge of cracking. His eyes slowly sweeping over them, Jaeheon moved his feet unhurriedly toward the kitchen.
Above the sink and gas range, something like black ash was thickly smeared. And in the sink remained only the crumbled remnants of the briquettes Eunseo had thrown in.
“…….”
So that was why he had carried home instant noodles he wouldn’t even eat—to buy those briquettes. And Eunseo had stubbornly insisted on standing before the gas range himself, always at the hour the housekeeper was there. The same repeated act every single day had bred complacency and arrogance, until no one could harbor suspicion anymore.
A way to make the iron-shut door open on its own, a way to slip past the bodyguards guarding the door… The method Eunseo had devised was quite dangerous, and for that reason, effective.
Jaeheon half-opened his lips, then closed them, and entered the room where Eunseo had stayed. The bed was perfectly made, as if no one had ever lain in it, and the closet doors stood wide open as though robbed. Inside the gaping Boston bag, bundles of 50,000-won bills still remained in fair number, but compared to what Eunseo had first carried out, they had shrunk to about half.
“…Clever.”
Around him he had acted the fool, but Eunseo was fairly sharp, and he never fell for the same trick twice. From the Boston bag’s inner pocket, Jaeheon pulled out a small transmitter. He had planted it after confirming Eunseo stashing cash here and there like a squirrel storing food.
Grinding his teeth, Jaeheon threw the transmitter in his hand. The small, weightless device struck the wall with a tap and fell to the floor. Remembering that what he had shouldered that bag of money to go find was Jin Seunghu sent his fury soaring. Jin Seunghu still grated on him like a thorn under his fingernail.
He would come back anyway. Eunseo couldn’t stand being ‘alone,’ even though he was entirely alone. And Jaeheon always prepared about two safeguards.
Hadn’t he told him to wait, that he would give him a gift—and hadn’t he prepared far too generous a repayment? Sitting on the neatly made bed, Jaeheon closed his long eyes for a moment, then opened them.
He shouldn’t have given him time to go outside. After his escape attempts had been completely blocked, he recalled Eunseo, who had grown as docile as a doll, and felt belated regret. He shouldn’t have given him the strength and time to think.
Why had he allowed the walks? Rising from the bed, Jaeheon headed for the west-facing room where Eunseo had always holed up from late afternoon into the evening. Every time, he would carry Eunseo—collapsed asleep there—to his room.
Looking through the house’s CCTV during the day, Eunseo chased the sun around the rooms. In the daytime he clung to the south-facing living room window, and in the afternoon he came to this west-facing room and just stayed there, doing nothing.
“…He said he was watching the sun.”
That was his first answer when he asked what he had been doing. It had completely erased his thought of dangling outings before his eyes like a carrot.
If he held him, he let himself be held; if he stroked his hair, he grumbled sleepily in his sleep. If he lay beside him, he burrowed into his arms. So he had never once doubted his heart. Had even that desperation been an act? Jaeheon briefly recalled Eunseo’s face then. And soon he erased that suspicion. Eunseo was no such brilliant actor.
Loud footsteps rang out. A bodyguard in a black suit and Secretary Choi Inseong stood panting in the doorway where Jaeheon was. It had taken quite a while. What he had expected was about an hour—in fact, he had been certain Eunseo would already be back here before he even arrived.
“Did you bring him?”
“…Vice President.”
The bodyguard, glancing nervously, fumbled and brought forward what he had been hiding behind his back. In place of the bodyguard, who couldn’t even open his mouth, Secretary Choi stepped forward.
“…My apologies, Vice President.”
“What… are you sorry for?”
“During the search of the third building, we found shoes in the underground parking garage.”
“We confirmed via CCTV that he left the commercial district, but after that we couldn’t find any trace of his movements.” What the bodyguard set on his hand was a white sneaker, barely even dusty. Jaeheon’s second safeguard.
“And so?”
“For now, we’ve sent people to the terminals, train stations, and the airport…”
“Do you think your senior is that stupid?”
“…….”
“Surely you weren’t stupid enough to go around searching while making it obvious you were tracking his location?”
Glaring at the bodyguard and secretary, who flinched like mutes who’d eaten honey, Jaeheon stepped closer. Tilting his head slightly, as if he truly couldn’t understand, he asked once more.
“Surely you didn’t make your senior leave his shoes behind and go?”
“…My apologies.”
“You’re sorry.”
More running footsteps sounded. Another bodyguard came rushing in, his face looking a bit brighter as if bearing decent news, then froze completely at the atmosphere. As Jaeheon’s gaze flicked to him, he stiffened further and barely opened his mouth at the quiet question.
“What is it.”
“Well…, with the cooperation of a car owner parked at the intersection, we checked one dashcam, and it captured Shin Eunseo boarding some car.”
“A car?”
“Yes.”
“But the angle made the license plate unreadable. Judging by the black color, we thought it might be a deluxe taxi…”
No, that couldn’t be. Eunseo was thoroughly ordinary and had maintained a commoner’s life. Someone who rarely even took taxis wouldn’t have ridden a deluxe taxi he hardly ever used recently. With an expressionless face, Jaeheon issued orders.
“Go out right now and check the dashcams of cars parked near the intersection.”
“Yes, understood.”
“And… send people to the major stations and the airport. Especially the airport and airlines—send the name and date of birth so we get contacted immediately if any reservation records turn up.”
“We’ll do that.”
“You’ll have to hope your senior is as stupid as you are.”
His pupils, lit as if on fire, gleamed blue-black. Fearing sparks would fly, Secretary Choi swept the bodyguard out with him in a rush, and soon the surroundings were wrapped in darkness. Jaeheon picked up the white sneaker lying on the floor and stared at it for a long time. The sneaker, worn only two hours a day, was still clean.
Thud—the sneaker thrown at the window fell to the floor with a patter. Brushing back his disheveled bangs, Jaeheon laughed a few times. It was absurd. Right, he wouldn’t fall for it twice. Eunseo never easily forgot a lesson once learned.
Through the wide-open front door drifted a small voice. For an instant it resembled Eunseo’s voice, and he rushed outside, but the form reflected in his irises was different from the figure he had hoped for.
“Isn’t this Shin Eunseo’s place?”
A woman, small enough that her head barely reached Jaeheon’s shoulder, stood holding a fairly large bag.
“I brought the cat.”
No sooner had he finished than the cat meowed softly from inside the bag. It was a gift for Eunseo.
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