Samdu first met Beomjin while working as a doorman for a tiny loan shark office tucked into an alleyway. It was during a dispute over overlapping debts that Beomjin had come to settle.
Their conversation that day had been brief. Yet, amidst the chaos of chairs and ashtrays flying through the air, Samdu was utterly captivated by the way Beomjin moved—fast and precise—seizing his boss by the throat with unerring accuracy.
Though Samdu ended up beaten and rolling on the floor that day, it only deepened his admiration for the man.
In truth, the company had a team specifically for physical enforcement, and it was rare for Beomjin to step in personally. However, his strong preference for handling things alone, even when it was inconvenient, meant that Samdu occasionally stumbled upon him in action by sheer persistence.
“All right, that’s enough. Go back. If the chairman tries to come down, stop him.”
As Beomjin waved him off dismissively, Samdu widened his eyes.
“No, hyung. I can’t just leave now. I just got here. Besides, the chairman told me to stay with you.”
“Since when did you start listening to the chairman so well? Didn’t you say my word comes before the chairman’s, or even the king’s?”
Beomjin’s sarcastic jab only made Samdu purse his lips briefly before responding, surprisingly resolute.
“That’s true. Your word comes first, hyung. But when it comes to your safety, I’m with the chairman on this.”
Exasperated, Beomjin furrowed his brows.
“There’s no danger here.”
“I know. Just think of it as me taking a vacation.”
“What kind of vacation involves sticking by my side...?”
Samdu’s face was almost comically serious, as if he’d resolved not to budge even if it meant getting punched. Seeing this, Beomjin trailed off with a sigh.
He knew Samdu’s stubbornness all too well. Unless something urgent came up in Seoul, the man wouldn’t leave. He’d stay planted here like a firmly rooted post.
Given Samdu’s awful acting skills, it was only a matter of time before the perceptive Yoon Junyoung figured out their relationship. And if she figured that out, it wasn’t a stretch to think she might eventually learn what kind of work he did.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.
Gazing into the darkness, Beomjin exhaled softly. In his mind, he could still hear Junyoung’s voice, murmuring as she approached him, her cheeks flushed with warmth.
“If you need me to, I’ll pretend to be your girl.”
...She wouldn’t joke like that anymore, not even in jest.
Looking down at his clenched fist, he slowly opened it and spoke quietly.
“Go home. If your grandmother asks, tell her you’re my cousin.”
“My... cousin? Hyung, aren’t you coming back?”
Samdu asked, his face lighting up at the mere suggestion, as though the word “cousin” held some magical significance. Stretching, Beomjin replied lazily.
“I’ll be back in the morning.”
“Yes, sir. But... who’s in the emergency room?”
“A woman named Yoon Junyoung. She lives in the same house as me.”
Samdu blinked in disbelief, his jaw dropping the moment the words registered.
“Hy-hy-hyung. A woman? You mean your woman?”
“She’s Park Hyungjun’s replacement from Hangyeong.”
Cutting off any delusions before they could take root, Beomjin’s voice was cold. Samdu let out a stunned “Ah,” nodding dumbly as understanding dawned. Turning to him, Beomjin added,
“There’s one thing you need to remember.”
This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.
“Anything. Just say the word.”
“Whatever she asks, don’t engage. Pretend she doesn’t exist. If you have to, act like you’re mute.”
Not that it would last long anyway.
He left the rest unsaid. No need to crush Samdu’s enthusiasm right at the start.
Samdu bowed deeply. “Understood. I won’t interfere with your work, hyung.”
“The moment you become a nuisance, you’re on the first train back to Seoul.”
“Yes, sir.”
This time, when Beomjin gestured for him to leave, Samdu obediently turned around and hurried back to his car. Watching him sprint away, Beomjin tilted his head back and looked up at the dark sky. The moon hung high, casting its bright glow over the quiet night.
***
Junyoung’s eyes snapped open. While a lingering fatigue still clung to her body, her mood felt oddly refreshed.
She blinked a few times before sluggishly sitting up. The faded yellow wallpaper greeted her, signaling that daylight had arrived.
Funny. Waking up in a different place every time.
A soft, bitter laugh escaped her lips as she pressed her swollen eyes with her fingers. Fragments of memory began piecing themselves together. The last thing she recalled was the sensation of her arms going limp and a strange feeling of weightlessness.
“...So he didn’t carry me on his back. He carried me in his arms?”
The thought brought an involuntary chuckle to her lips. Every word of her conversation with Beomjin in the emergency room resurfaced vividly in her mind. The things she’d shared with him—things she’d never told anyone or even intended to—had poured out so naturally, even though it had only been a few days since they’d reconnected.
Feeling a strange itch at the back of her neck, Junyoung shuddered slightly and glanced around. Spotting her bag neatly placed in the corner of the room, she quickly retrieved her phone from it.
Normally, she’d check her work messages first thing, but today was different. Plugging her nearly dead phone into a charger, she pulled up her photos and frowned.
“Where is it? I definitely took that picture.”
Her phone, temperamental as always, had a tendency to fail at saving photos if she didn’t leave the app open for a moment after taking them. She remembered hurriedly closing the app and shoving her phone away yesterday, afraid that Beomjin might ask to see it.
“Damn it,” she muttered, stomping her foot. Wincing at the dull ache in her knee, she sat down, glaring accusingly at the innocent wallpaper as if it were to blame. Then, with renewed determination, she mumbled to herself.
“Just wait. I’ll get it next time, no matter what.”
There were plenty of excuses she could use. After all, attaching site photos to her reports was a legitimate requirement. It was only natural that some workers might end up in the background of those pictures, right?
Smirking at the thought, Junyoung’s attention was drawn to a man’s voice outside the door. She hastily smoothed her messy hair and opened the door with a neutral expression, only to freeze at the sight of a stranger.
The man, wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, was massive—his muscular frame nearly overwhelming the small hallway. If not for the fact that he was struggling to move a hefty crock of soy sauce, his imposing appearance might have been intimidating.
For a moment, their eyes met. Then, as if embarrassed, the man quickly looked away. Junyoung’s gaze shifted to the grandmother emerging from the kitchen with a cup of water in her hands.
“Oh, thank you so much,” the grandmother said cheerfully. “This’ll make fetching soy sauce so much easier.”
The man remained silent, nodding briefly before chugging the water. Noticing Junyoung, the grandmother waved her over.
“Ah, you’re up! The scorched rice porridge will be ready soon.”
“Good morning,” Junyoung greeted politely, though her eyes stayed fixed on the man. His sharp gaze darted around, clearly avoiding hers. Amused, Junyoung sat down on the porch and slipped on her shoes.
“Is he with Kim?” she asked casually, her tone light but pointed.
The man flinched, and the grandmother chuckled, waving her hand. “Oh, no. He’s just a cousin. He had some business nearby and said he’d stay with Kim for a few days. There’s an extra room, so I said it’s fine.”
“A cousin?” Junyoung repeated, her smile growing warmer. She limped toward the man, who instinctively tried to shift away from her.
“Well, since I’m the same age as Kim, that makes you my little brother, doesn’t it? Which side of the family are you from? Maternal? Paternal? You look a lot like him.”
The man cleared his throat awkwardly, his face flushing as he glanced down at her. When Junyoung stepped closer, peering up at him, his anxious gaze became even more unsteady.
She smiled slyly, leaning in slightly. “Do you know what kind of relationship I have with Kwon Beomjin?”
“How do you know our hyung—” he started, only to clamp his mouth shut. A bead of sweat trickled down his reddened cheek.
Junyoung nodded knowingly, patting his shoulder. “And your name is?”
“Park Sam—uh, it’s nothing.”
“Oh, your name is Park Samuh-it’s-nothing? That’s unique.”
Her playful remark left the man’s face frozen in an expression of discomfort. Crossing her arms, she glanced at the grandmother from the corner of her eye and then lowered her voice.
“What, did Kwon Beomjin tell you not to even give me your name?”
Living among people who required several layers of deception to reveal anything had made Junyoung oddly entertained by the straightforwardness of this interaction. The man, wide-eyed and scowling at the ground as if he could dig a hole through it, clenched his trembling lips shut.
Junyoung’s thoughts on how to tease him further were interrupted by the sound of a door opening. She turned her head, disappointed, as the man glanced back with visible relief.
Beomjin stepped out, a towel slung around his neck, and sighed softly at the sight of them.
“Good morning, Kim,” Junyoung greeted with a grin. “I’ve already introduced myself to your cousin.”
Beomjin’s indifferent gaze brushed over them as the man shot him an almost pleading look. Stifling a laugh, Junyoung waved her hand casually.
“And about yesterday—I’ll repay the favor soon, if you can make the time.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
With that curt response, Beomjin disappeared back into the house. The man scurried after him, his quick steps betraying his eagerness to escape the situation. Judging by their reactions, it seemed Beomjin hadn’t given him much detail.
Whoever this ‘cousin’ is, he seems much easier to deal with than Kwon Beomjin. This could work out.
Junyoung shrugged and stretched her arms high above her head. The clear, cloudless sky suggested another hot day ahead.
***
“The issues we identified are detailed in the documents you’re looking at now...”
Wearing a safety helmet, the site manager gestured to a set of blueprints as he began his explanation. Junyoung didn’t bother pointing out that she already had a general grasp of the situation. Her real goal here was to assess the atmosphere and take photos.
Yeongbok didn’t stop her as she followed the manager up the stairs. The workers seemed to notice her presence but refrained from chatting about anything unrelated to the work.
Snapping a few photos of the site, Junyoung’s camera lens caught sight of Beomjin on the first floor. Zooming in, she watched as he removed his safety helmet and wiped his damp hair with a towel. Her lips curled into a smile as she pressed the shutter repeatedly.
“These are the most pressing issues we can address right now... Deputy Yoon? What exactly are you taking pictures of?”