Chapter 58 (END)
by GideonKang-i tore open a bag of potato chips, muttering under his breath. It was a conversation they’d been having on repeat, like a musical phrase marked with a repeat sign.
“Don’t be so confident. When was the last time you even held a pencil?”
“I don’t know.”
“See?”
Juhyeon poured a peach-flavored drink into a glass and set it down in front of Kang-i, then filled his own.
“You two still haven’t agreed? Just split up and take the exam separately.”
Taemo emerged from the bathroom, ruffling his damp hair. He seemed exasperated that they were still arguing about the exam schedule, a debate that had started before he’d even gone in.
“Kang-i keeps insisting on taking it in the first half of the year. He hasn’t even bought a single book.”
“I’m telling you, I’ve got a feeling! I’m gonna ace it in one shot.”
The two of them were planning to take the GED. The work they’d been doing all their lives was neither honorable nor stable. They felt it was time to start living properly. Juhyeon had been the first to make the decision, and Kang-i followed suit.
They were only just starting to look for academies, yet Kang-i was already hastily talking about taking the exam in the first half of next year. There were only a couple of months left of this year.
Taemo flopped down onto the sofa and reached out. He naturally grabbed the cup Juhyeon had just set down after drinking from it. Then, he took a sip of the half-empty sports drink before placing it back in its original spot. They had grown accustomed to reaching into each other’s personal space, but his heart still fluttered with every single moment.
“Indirect…”
He drank from the exact spot my lips just touched. That’s a total indirect kiss. He did that on purpose, didn’t he? Juhyeon stared down at the nearly empty cup, his fingers fidgeting with his cheek. The skin beneath his touch was burning hot.
“Woo Juhyeon, what are you thinking about?”
“Huh? I was thinking about taking the exam in the second half of the year!” Juhyeon exclaimed, waving his hands frantically.
But Taemo and Kang-i only stared at him, their eyes narrowed. It was as if they could read his mind.
“Your mind is clearly somewhere else. Are you two even going to be able to take the exam next year?”
“…”
Maybe it was because he’d been caught daydreaming when he was supposed to be studying for the GED. Juhyeon felt a sudden wave of awkwardness. He gripped his mug and gulped down the rest of his drink, his lips pressing against the exact spot where Taemo’s had been.
“I haven’t cleared the training grounds yet,” Taemo said. “Should we head over there? I think you two need a mental discipline session first.”
“I’m good. I just snapped out of it,” Juhyeon replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He ignored Kang-i’s sharp glare—a silent accusation of why he was the only one getting to skip—and turned his attention back to his laptop.
“I told you not to snack on junk food before meals.”
“I can still eat a full meal after this. You know my appetite.”
When it came to eating, he never held back. Maybe it was because he’d grown up without much, but he ate everything without complaint. Besides, Taemo’s cooking was good enough to make every meal something to look forward to.
If anything, Kang-i was the one who was a picky eater, always hunting for snacks. Taemo, clearly aware of this, began to scold him.
“Kang Yi-seon, you should learn from your younger brother. This is what you call confidence with a basis. You, who can’t even remember the last time you held a mechanical pencil, are just being stubborn.”
“Are you looking down on me?”
“A little bit?”
The two of them giggled playfully. Juhyeon watched them silently. If it hadn’t been for their revenge, they would have never met. They would have lived completely different lives in completely different times.
If there was one thing Seo Jinyoung had done right, it was bringing the three of them together.
Warm sunlight streamed through the spacious window. With them, Juhyeon felt he could endure any suffocating heat or bone-chilling cold. His new room was a sanctuary of peace and tranquility—so much so that Dongwoo could sleep soundly and without a care.
The late autumn days passed in serene continuity. Finally, the welcome news arrived. It was the answer to the letter that had claimed giving up would be easier. Though it came late, it was the outcome everyone had hoped for.
—Mr. Seo, who had been diagnosed with full-body paralysis, has passed away after suffering sudden respiratory failure during his hospital treatment. Due to his death, the trial against him is expected to be dismissed.
Even in the car on the way to the funeral home, they could hear the news about Seo Jinyoung. With so many entangled cases, the suspect’s death seemed to be causing quite a stir.
“No wonder. They’d been preparing to emigrate for a while now.”
They had been keeping a close eye on Seo Jinyoung’s trial since it had officially begun. Of course, they couldn’t do things like review CCTV footage or eavesdrop on phone calls anymore. Still, thanks to Kang-i, they were often able to obtain rather private information. Moreover, the family mostly gathered at the hospital to discuss their future plans. In the new life they were trying to start, Seo Jinyoung was never included.
“Do you really think the family did it?”
“They are family, but they’re also a burden.”
“…”
If Seo Jinyoung had truly drawn his last breath at the hands of his own family, what thoughts must have crossed his mind in those final moments? How terrified must he have been, unable to speak or move, forced to listen to every word they exchanged as they left him behind? Did he repent his past sins, even just a little? Or did his nature prevail, leaving him to seethe with resentment and rage at Lee Taemo, Woo Juhyeon, and Kang Yi-seon?
“See, Woo Juhyeon? We’re just throwing away a nuisance like Seo Jinyoung. They say you were a good boy, too. You don’t have to worry about your brother abandoning you anymore, do you?”
The man was only saying this because he’d heard Juhyeon talking in his sleep the night before. Perhaps it was the growing cold. For the first time in ages, Juhyeon had dreamed of that single, cramped room in the hillside slum. It must have been the day Dongwoo and the other older brothers he lived with stole the bankbook and vanished. Even in the dream, the snow fell, and the memory of the threadbare blanket he’d wrapped around himself was vivid.
“…Well, I don’t think about it much anymore… but I definitely would have abandoned Seo Jinyoung if I were in his shoes.”
He shrugged, smoothing out the awkward fit of his suit. This was the first time he’d ever worn one. To think he’d be wearing a suit for Seo Jinyoung’s funeral, of all things. It was a moment that would be etched into his memory for many reasons.
“Is that it?”
Kang-i popped his head up from the center of the front seat. He followed the direction Kang-i was pointing. The parking lot was about as full as the others, with not many people coming and going.
“There aren’t many people here.”
“They probably want to keep it quiet. If it gets too noisy, people might catch wind of it and come swarming.”
Their only goal now was to leave Korea without a trace. If anyone grew suspicious of Seo Jinyoung’s sudden death, it would be a massive headache.
“So, we just swoop in then?”
“Only if he sets foot in Korea again. We’re unemployed anyway—we’ve got nothing but time and money to burn.”
A low, chilling laugh drifted through the air.
The three of them walked side by side toward the memorial altar bearing Seo Jinyoung’s name. In his portrait, he was smiling radiantly, his face so innocent it seemed he’d never done a single bad thing in his life.
The atmosphere was as gloomy as any other funeral hall, yet a strange tension lingered in the air. Instead of mourning Seo Jinyoung, the family members were bustling about with forced smiles, as if their primary concern was merely keeping up appearances. Perhaps that was why the area in front of the altar remained conspicuously empty.
Taemo stepped forward to offer the condolence money on their behalf, then slipped off his shoes. Only then did Seo Jinyoung’s younger brother, who had been watching them from a distance with a feignedly gentle smile, hurry over.
The three of them had already removed their shoes and stepped inside, coming face-to-face with Seo Jinyoung’s funeral portrait.
“…”
How could he describe this feeling? It was undeniably their doing that had pushed Seo Jinyoung to this point, but in the beginning, it was Seo Jinyoung who had brought them all together. The tangled mess of their fates had indeed started with him, yet seeing his portrait made Taemo’s stomach churn.
“How do you know my brother…?”
The younger brother seemed puzzled, as they looked too young to be acquaintances and their faces were unfamiliar. His gaze, sweeping over them with a mixture of resemblance and difference to Seo Jinyoung’s, lingered on the three of them.
Taemo was the only one who answered.
“We’re the bereaved family.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Ten years ago. You remember when he caused that drunk driving accident, right? We’re the family of the victim.”
Taemo’s lips curved into a gentle smile. But with his naturally fierce features and the formal suit he wore, he only radiated a murderous aura.
“Ahem. My brother only remembers being the one who got into the accident. Are you sure you’re not mistaken…”
The face of the younger brother, wearing the chief mourner’s armband, instantly hardened. He seemed to be struggling to hide his panic, but he kept licking his lips, betraying his anxiety. Taemo, with his hands shoved in his pockets, continued to grin. He deliberately raised his voice, drawing the attention of the surrounding crowd.
“Since he’s so used to stabbing people in the back, I came here to see if he’s actually dead.”
The man quickly scanned his surroundings, then stepped closer and whispered.
“……Let’s go before you cause a scene.”
They spoke as if their own reputations were more important than the fact that an uninvited guest had just shown up at their brother’s funeral.
“Should we? It’s not like we’re here to pray for his soul.”
Taemo tilted his head back slightly, asking Juhyeon and Kang-i for their opinion. The answer was already decided. Even as they wore their awkward black suits, they had never intended to offer a single sincere prayer for the deceased.
“Yes. I might accidentally pray for him if we stay.”
At Juhyeon’s words, Kang-i covered his mouth, stifling a laugh. The man’s face, which had been pale with anger, now flushed a deep red.
“Someone died. Just leave.”
“People died ten years ago, too. Three of them, in fact.”
“……”
“What’s so important about one dumbass finally kicking the bucket?”
Taemo’s blunt words caused a stir among the nearby mourners. Of course, it wasn’t something one should say at a funeral, but for those who had waited ten years, it wasn’t an unfair thing to say either.
Unlike Juhyeon and Kang-i, who turned and walked away, Taemo halted his departure and strode quickly toward the altar. He yanked a large bunch of chrysanthemums from the vase and threw them down in front of the portrait. The frame toppled forward, crashing to the floor.
“Hey!”
“He told me he wanted to receive flowers from me once. Here they are.”
Taemo smiled brightly at Seo Jinyoung’s fallen portrait. It was a smile more radiant and relieved than any he had ever worn.
He was practically chased out of the funeral hall. As he left the space where the heavy scent of incense and flowers mingled, his heart felt strangely light—as if he had left all his anxiety behind with Seo Jinyoung.
As soon as they stepped outside, Taemo pulled out a cigarette and lit it. The pale smoke drifted back toward the funeral hall. Kang-i pulled his jacket tighter, hunching his shoulders against the chill, while Juhyeon took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out with a soft murmur.
“Ah, I feel so strange.”
Though his words were as faint as the cigarette smoke, Taemo reacted instantly.
“Why? Do you regret it?”
Taemo’s voice was slightly muffled, the cigarette still clenched between his teeth. But his tone wasn’t mocking or accusatory like before.
“No. It’s just… it’s over now. That’s why.”
Ever since he’d met Taemo, Kang-i’s life had been a constant whirlwind of confusion. A man who killed had suddenly reached out to him. He found his gaze drawn to Taemo again and again, until the man had carved a place in his heart. It hadn’t even taken long for that to happen. It was as if it had been destiny from the very beginning.
When Juhyeon learned that Taemo knew about Dongwoo’s death and had been walking the path of revenge for so long, his confusion reached its peak. It was a truth he wanted to turn away from, to simply ignore.
But Juhyeon endured. He stayed by Lee Taemo’s side, and he endured Choi Dong-woo’s death. That was why he had ultimately come to Seo Jinyoung’s funeral. This entire process had been a short but blood-soaked, brutal time for Juhyeon. Now, the end had truly arrived.
“…You’re right. This is really the period.”
From the lips of the man who had always promised an end, relief finally poured out. Just as Taemo said, it was the moment the comma of a long-drawn-out revenge turned into a period.
Lee Pro, Cola, Capri. Those ridiculous names were now completely erased from the world. For this was the day Lee Taemo, Woo Juhyeon, and Kang Yi-seon reclaimed their real lives.
<End>
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