“The sauce is too bland. Neither yours nor mine tastes good. Did you not check the seasoning?”

“I followed what you said about occasionally going out for food… Did I make it too bland?”

Following this, Eunchae heard a displeased voice from Hahman-dra’s wife.

“Yes. You seem to have talent in Korean cuisine, but why don’t you leave this kind of thing to someone else? You’d better use commercial products. Should I suggest it to the chairman?”

Withholding a sigh, she faced the dining room. Madame Sung Mun-hee was lecturing while holding a plate of food.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I’ll make it again.”

“Did you really serve this to the chairman? You should pay more attention. Why don’t we have a chef at home? I’ll suggest it to the chairman.”

Munhee handed the plate she was holding to Hahman-dra’s wife, and she accepted it with an embarrassed look. The food on the plate was a dessert, baked baguette with garlic white sauce, something Eunchae had been eating all along. Hanmandra’s wife, who had been entrusted with the cooking duties for decades, could not have made a mistake in cooking.
Eunchae approached briskly before Munhee turned towards her. Munhee, noticing Eunchae, hesitated, intending to greet her, but Eunchae’s gaze was fixed on the plate that Hamandra was holding. She picked up the baguette and took a bite.

“It’s what I usually eat, and there’s no problem.”

When Munhee’s eyes focused critically, she showed a bewildered expression.

“Oh, it’s a bit bland for my taste….”

“I’m fine, and it’s a dish I like.”

“Still, considering that the chairman will be having it, shouldn’t we give this kind of feedback?”

“I don’t know why the chairman is coming out here. I find it delicious.”

Eunchae’s tone was calm, and there was no sign of excitement. Yet, it was clear who held the upper hand in this house. Munhee’s face, the normally unyielding Madame Sung Mun-hee, stiffened.

Eunchae smiled at Hamandra, who seemed unsure, while keeping an eye on the situation.

“You can go inside and attend to other matters.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Hamandra left the dining room, looking at Munhee. Munhee’s opinion was ignored and discarded.

Eunchae, unsatisfied with that, changed her expression and looked back at Munhee.

“As a guest, you seem quite rude. Please don’t treat the people working here lightly.”

The reason the employees seemed busy became evident. By what authority? Eunchae didn’t bother hiding her incredulity. The more she did so, the paler Munhee’s complexion became.

“…I interfered unnecessarily.”

Munhee, with a slightly trembling voice, finally raised her finely arched eyebrows with a forced smile.

“Eunchae, your taste is unexpectedly unique. I thought you’d be quite picky about growing up with good food.”

The ending was a gracious laugh, but the content of the words didn’t change. Eunchae, raising her head diagonally, met Munhee’s eyes squarely, restraining her.

“Yes. I grew up eating well-prepared food and became accustomed to it. That’s why I think my taste is better than yours, madam.”

Receiving her own words thrown back at her, Munhee’s pale face trembled. The wrinkles beside her tightly closed lips deepened, and it felt like they were twitching.

Unable to receive a response despite trying to deliver the words to the end, Eunchae turned abruptly when there was no return. Even though she moved quickly, it was an elegant movement without the slightest clumsiness. Observing her, Munhee whispered quietly behind her.

“…Thief….”

Eunchae, who had stopped abruptly, turned back again. Munhee had already turned her back and was walking away.

Did I hear it wrong?

Feeling uneasy, Eunchae stood still. Although it sounded like a quiet breath, the pronunciation was steady.

Thief.

No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t find a valid reason to hear such words. Not only that, but even the reason for belittling the resident employees.

Having rarely visited and cut off contact after Pak Mu-sung left the world, did she become the landlady? Why?

“Ha.”
It seems like they’ve become lovers. Even if that’s the case, it doesn’t matter, and I haven’t been concerned. However, when she picks a fight like this, I couldn’t just stay silent. The expression “can’t leave it alone” might be more accurate.

Eunchae changed her course towards Chairman Song’s study, interrupting her path to her room.

Knock, knock—.

There was no response from inside when she knocked. Chairman Song, who usually ignored knocking sounds as if saying not to come in if he was busy with documents, was in there. Normally, she wouldn’t enter, and it still wasn’t appropriate, but fueled by anger and irritation, she forcefully opened the door.

There was no one in the study.

If he had been asked to bring dessert, it should have been in the study for sure.

Even if he went to the restroom for a moment, Eunchae patiently waited.

The study was more frequently visited by Chairman Song than his bedroom. So, not wanting to stay there for long and turning her attention away, she found a plate of baguettes and a photo of a young boy on the dark walnut desk, especially drawn to the slightly faded picture.

It didn’t seem like a photo from Chairman Song’s childhood. Eunchae unintentionally examined the photo more closely. A boy of about three or four years old. Even scrutinizing his facial features, she couldn’t identify who he was.

“What is this?”

As she looked closely, it became even more puzzling. Then, absentmindedly flipping the photo, she found a short note on the back. The ink was recent as it was clear.

“Mr. Myeonghwan… Your precious son… Jinsung.”

Eunchae focused on the name at the end.

Jinsung…

…

“Park… Jinsung?”

Eventually, she remembered the person in question and couldn’t believe it. Eunchae covered her mouth.

Madame Sung Munhee’s son, Park Jinsung? Why is this photo here?

Her head was dizzy with the sudden chaos. If you thought about it easily, it might be a photo that Madame Sung Munhee gave to her deceased husband, so why is it here? Moreover, the incongruent blue ink writing on the old photo was unsettling.

Mr. Myeonghwan. Your precious son.

Eunchae’s hand holding the photo trembled slightly.

A family that suddenly appeared to Park Musung one day. A hat like a regular visitor after Park Musung’s death. Park Jinsung’s abrupt promotion.

As the puzzle pieces came together, they collapsed in her mind. They tumbled down to her chest like a thud.

“…”

Her fingers almost exerted force, and the photo was almost crumpled.

Eunchae managed to release the tension in her hand and quickly left the study, placing the photo back where it originally was.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Inside the dimly lit officetel, covered by blackout curtains.

In the bedroom, where only a small light leaked out, Kijoo was there.

Despite being at home, he sat on the bed, head turned back, and with a cold touch, his cold hands strangled his neck. In the dim light, the shadow cast by his large body was unsettling. The shadow’s fingertips pointed toward the German-made automatic pistol on the sheet.
Kijoo held a small and light pistol in his hand, looking left and right before attaching the suppressor he had placed beside him with a clicking sound.

He slowly stood up, detaching the elbow that had been resting on his knee. The pistol with the suppressor was holstered at the back of his pants, and he alertly heightened his senses.

Then, a strange noise came from the entrance. It was the warning sound when forcing open a door lock.

Ding-ling ding-ling .