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SEOUL, 2016
SONG JUNHEE was standing behind Choi Mujin's right shoulder, hands clasped neatly over each other in front of her as she witnessed a girl—the one she had met in the afternoon when she went to pay respect to Dongcheon's fallen member, Yoon Donghoon. Holding a wooden box which houses the remains of late Donghoon was his daughter, Yoon Jiwoo.
The spacious office was consumed by quietness, the only source of sound was the scraping of Jiwoo's sneakers against the glistening black marble floor, carrying a desperate indent in each step she took towards the numero uno sitting in the leather chair, hoping he would help her after being refused by the police.
"Please help me find my dad's killer." Was the first thing Jiwoo said as she placed the box and a piece of crumpled paper in front of Mujin.
Printed on the paper was the CCTV investigation, which Junhee could easily guessed the young girl obtained it from the police—her melon-pink lips quirked, a tad amused at Jiwoo's effort. From where she could've possibly get her hands on the footage if it was not from the police? Not to mention the sheer audacity of asking Choi Mujin—the Choi Mujin—for help, of all people. Other people would've think twice before asking for his help, yet here she was, standing in front of him. Junhee's gaze then settled onto her boss as she analyzed his profile, noting the twitch of his jaw and that severe expression he always put on.
Being his personal assistant for almost a year, Junhee knew his head was whirring at full speed, formulating plans to expand his drug empire although it was already big enough, building up idea one after another. All that business-y thought always romping through his head, then Donghoon's death crashed in, erasing the blueprints he had made. The destruction was only temporary as after tonight, the pulleys and blocks of thought in Mujin's head would work furiously, sketching up another plan for Dongcheon's future. He always had a plan in that mind of his. Sometimes Junhee wondered what it was like to be in the folds of his cerebrum, to see for herself what made him like this.
"You said he was your trusted chingu and brother." Jiwoo recalled Mujin's words from before, words that gave her hopes as her glassy eyes were fixated on the drug lord.
"If I find him?" Mujin's husky voice filled the air as he met Jiwoo's gaze. His heart still aching from the loss of his trusted friend.
"Then I will kill him." She said with finality as she stole a glance at Junhee, finally noticing the woman for the first time. A woman of pulchritude; she looked young, possessing the exquisite elegance of a lady and a high-standard demeanor figure. Who is she? She had thought. She must have been someone important, for her to be in this room right now.
"You'll kill him. . ." Mujin trailed off as he stood up from the comfort of the leather seat, Jiwoo's attention was back at him, "Do you know what it's like to kill someone?"
He asked, planting the seed of doubt in Jiwoo as he walked around the mahogany desk towards her, her clueless figure shrunk once Mujin was inside her personal space in no time, exuding air of authority over her—and to Junhee as well. A feeling she knew very well.
