But he decided not to show it. It was enough that he’d shown his pettiness over whether to post photos on SNS.

The more you try to hold onto something, the more it slips away. That’s how the world works. Like business, it’s not about being desperate, but knowing when to push and when to pull back.

But with Se Ah, he couldn’t do that. He gets upset over small things, then becomes clingy.

How did Se Ah live with these emotions for years? In the end, he blamed himself.

The sin of recognizing her feelings too late. Maybe his punishment isn’t over yet, his mouth felt dry.

Her light brown eyelashes fluttered briefly. Perhaps dreaming something pleasant, the corners of her mouth slightly lifted.

She looked similar to her bright, wishful face when closing her eyes and making a New Year’s wish at the restaurant.

Since she was eight, she hadn’t made wishes.

‘I wish dad would be kinder to mom.’

‘Please, don’t let grandma scold mom.’
‘I wish mom wouldn’t secretly cry while I’m asleep.’

‘Please, someone help my mom and me.’

None of these were granted. Everyone turned a blind eye. Crying was futile.

The only response to a boy crying was Nam Tae’s scornful reproach.

It wasn’t until he turned 13, strong enough to stand up for himself, that he could finally push Nam Tae out of the master bedroom, shouting at Hyeon Suk, and take his mother’s hand to leave.

Since that day, he had only a formal relationship with Nam Tae. The only reason they maintained a semblance of a father-son relationship was because of living with Hyeon Suk.

Half-asleep, Se Ah grabbed Kang Woo’s arm and snuggled into him, his arm as firm as a bar on the bedsheet.

“Funny.”

Annoying yet so endearing.

Kang Woo’s lips met Se Ah’s pouting ones.

He had no choice but to wait until Se Ah fully opened her heart.

Conference hall in Ilsan.

Leaders of the mobile gaming industry gathered. It was a quarterly meeting for sharing information and networking.

As the conference hall staff served refreshments around the long U-shaped table, an middle-aged gentleman next to Kang Woo observed him organizing documents.

“Chairman Cha, when will you play golf again?”

“My skills are quite modest. But let’s.”

“Don’t be so humble. Who here could possibly compete with Chairman Cha in age or strength?”

“You flatter me.”

The atmosphere centered around Kang Woo. Just a few years ago, he used to sit at the edge of this conference hall, now he was in the center, not by request, but naturally so.

Sipping water from a bottle, Kang Woo inadvertently locked eyes with three men across the table, their foreheads lined with thick veins and hair graying.

“It seems everyone’s flocking to mobile because it’s lucrative. All sorts of people crowding in.”

One of them spoke, and the two seated next to him chimed in.

“Exactly. What do these young ones think business is, jumping in like moths to a flame? Thinking they’re developers just because they can make an app. Does knowing how to create make one a businessman?”

“Right. Business requires savvy. Even those with formal management training fail. What can these greenhorns handle?”

Clearly, they were referring to Kang Woo. He took a sip from his cup, his lips curling leisurely, seemingly irritating them further.

“Teach your university juniors a lesson, Chairman Cha. Tell them to quietly join companies and make marketable apps. Not to arrogantly jump into business and end up failing.”

“The same goes for PC games. Who hasn’t tried? Many have poured money and time into development, only to shut down.”

They continued their tirade. Despite the open market, they were displeased with the monopolistic moves of CI Soft.
Even now, if the collaboration with G-Comms succeeds, dominating the market is inevitable. The elder statesmen disliked the idea of a young man leading and not kowtowing to them.

“Speaking of which, how’s the collaboration with G-Comms? You could lose everything you’ve built so far.”

“I’m doing my best.”

“Hard work alone isn’t enough. How far has it progressed? It’s outsourcing under G-Comms, isn’t it?”

Kang Woo responded with a relaxed smile, without a word.

“I’ll be leaving now.”

He bowed politely before turning to walk towards the door.

“Hey, Chairman Cha. I know you’re handsome, but don’t rely on your looks. And be careful with the young and pretty daughter of G-Comms.”

A low-quality joke was thrown his way.

Kang Woo turned and walked towards the man who had spoken carelessly.

“Why… Is that so? Are you challenging me in a men’s joke?”

A narrow-shouldered, pot-bellied man stood up, stuttering but continuing to point aggressively.

“So lacking in appeal.”

Kang Woo’s softly spoken words made the man’s eyes bulge.

“Are you talking to me?”

“Scared?”

Kang Woo’s twisted lips and deliberately slow speech intensified the man’s agitation.

Kang Woo leaned in close, bridging the significant height difference.

“Am I honored to be valued so highly by you?”

Kang Woo’s gaze coldly fell to the man’s unimpressive waistline.

“I’m a simple man who knows only his wife.”

His scornful smile faded as Kang Woo straightened up.

He rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, appearing arrogant. The man glared at him, boiling with anger.

“To show my gratitude for your advice, how about you implement a sexual harassment prevention program in your company?”

“What?”

“There seem to be frequent scandals involving married executives and secretaries.”

Kang Woo’s cold black eyes bore down on the man.

“Installing such a program might alleviate concerns about executives’ conduct. It would certainly reassure your wife.”

Leaving the speechless man behind, Kang Woo’s polished shoes pivoted smoothly. He scanned the room sharply, aware of the many eyes on him.

Could one of them be daring enough to target Se Ah?