A Summons You Can’t Refuse

“Kick him out right now!”

Donghyun let out a sigh as soon as he arrived home, greeted by Jeongyun’s furious voice.

He hadn’t expected their relationship to have magically improved, but he hadn’t imagined walking into this scene either.

When he turned his gaze, he saw Jin Seha sitting on the sofa, being pointed at accusingly by Jeongyun.

Seha sat with both hands neatly placed on his knees, his head slightly bowed.

Seeing the cleaning lady moving back and forth in the distance with a pale face, it seemed things had already escalated before Donghyun arrived.

“What happened?”

Donghyun spoke to Jeongyun in an intentionally relaxed tone.

Unless they were alone, Donghyun usually treated Jeongyun formally as his superior, but right now his priority was calming him down.

Jeongyun continued, fuming like a younger brother complaining to his eldest sibling.

“Don’t fall for that quiet act.

He just keeps his head down, but he’s shamelessly mocking people.

Seriously.”

Donghyun’s gaze naturally shifted to Seha.

This time, Seha replied with a thoroughly flustered expression.

“Mocking…?

No, not at all.

I was hired by the chairwoman.

How could I possibly do something like that.

No, Secretary.”

“No way.

That bastard is seriously not normal.”

“I’ve never done this kind of work before, so I think I must’ve acted in a way that caused a misunderstanding.

I’m sorry.

I’ll be more careful.

I’m sorry, Young Master.

Secretary.”

As he spoke, Seha immediately stood up and bowed deeply and repeatedly toward the two of them.

It wouldn’t do anything to sway Jeongyun, of course, but this was for the sake of not falling out of favor with Secretary Shin, who looked like a perfectly reasonable person.

For the time being, earning Jeongyun’s goodwill seemed impossible, so Seha needed to rack up points with as many people around him as he could.

Among them, winning over Donghyun—who appeared to be closest to Jeongyun and spent the most time with him—was more important than anything else.

Chairwoman Son Insuk might be able to force Jeongyun’s behavior as an adult, but when it came to persuading him, Donghyun seemed far more influential.

If Seha wanted to last in this house, he needed the support of someone like that.

With a “pitiful expression” honed through countless part-time jobs—one that had never failed him—Seha looked at Donghyun.

Whether it was a boss or a customer, whether the mistake was small or severe, very few people could remain cruel in the face of this expression.

And just as Seha expected, it worked on Donghyun too.

He could tell from Donghyun’s eyes that the tactic had succeeded once again.

“You apologize like it’s a habit.”

Jeongyun sneered, apparently oblivious to the subtle change in Donghyun’s attitude.

Seha found that a little surprising.

He’d always assumed that a third-generation chaebol would be frighteningly adept at dealing with people, but Cha Jeongyun seemed oddly far removed from that image.

To be more honest, Jeongyun looked clumsy at everything.

That awkwardness was so obvious that even someone who hadn’t known him long could tell.

Twenty-three.

In hindsight, it wasn’t exactly an age you could call fully adult, but it wasn’t purely childish either.

And yet, Cha Jeongyun sometimes looked like a boy still trapped in the throes of adolescence.

That was precisely why Seha could remain relaxed even in the face of Jeongyun’s vicious attitude.

Half-baked hostility couldn’t deeply wound someone like Seha, who had already experienced far more persistent and genuine malice.

“I really am sorry….”

Whether Jeongyun mocked him or not, Seha bowed again with a businesslike detachment and replied meekly.

His current behavior wasn’t for Jeongyun’s sake anyway.

It was meant for Donghyun, and for Gyeongseon, who was pretending not to look while sneaking glances from afar.

After letting out another short sigh, Donghyun stepped diagonally in front of Jeongyun, cutting him off.

“He’s apologizing this much, so you should let it go too.”

“Let it go, my ass—!”

“The chairwoman asked to see you.”

Jeongyun, who had raised his voice again at Donghyun for stopping him rather than scolding Seha, fell silent at those words.

“My grandmother?”

“Yeah.

She said to bring you right away if nothing’s wrong.”

“When she wouldn’t even take my calls.”

“She was giving you time to think.”

Jeongyun glared at Donghyun, irritated by how none of his words were landing today.

Hadn’t Donghyun just said they needed to be cautious and keep an eye on Jin Seha.

Now he was suddenly saying something else.

Jeongyun wanted to argue further, but since it was his grandmother calling—and since bickering with Donghyun in front of Seha would hurt his pride—he decided to back down for now.

“I’ll change and come out.”

“Okay.

Oh, and….”

Just as Jeongyun turned toward the dressing room, Donghyun spoke again.

Jeongyun turned back, and Donghyun looked at Seha as he continued.

“Jin Seha, you’re coming too, so get ready.”

“He’s coming too?”

“M-me too?”

Jeongyun and Seha asked at the same time.

Donghyun calmly nodded.

“Yes.

The chairwoman asked to see Jin Seha as well.”

This time, both of their sighs sank heavily into the living room.

“Is that so.

You did well.

Seeing them together sounds good.”

Sun Bosal spoke in a gentle voice into the phone.

The person on the other end was Chairwoman Son Insuk.

Compared to Sun Bosal’s tone, the voice coming from the other side was unfailingly polite and respectful.

Among all the influential figures in Korea, Sun Bosal was the only one treated with such reverence by Chairwoman Son.

“…Yes.

I think it would be better to meet him a little later.

He’s still someone who doesn’t fully understand what he’s doing, so there’s no need to burden his heart already.

For now, just having them together is enough.

Please take good care of him.”

As she calmly explained, Sun Bosal pictured in her mind the young man whose face she had yet to see.

He wouldn’t understand.

He wouldn’t even guess what kind of fate he carried, or what kind of tidal wave he was facing.

“Yes.

Then I’ll see you soon.

Please take care, Chairwoman.”

Ending the short call, Sun Bosal let out a long breath.

In her mind appeared Insuk’s pitiful child, struggling within relentless trials.

Though Jeongyun was already a grown adult, whenever Sun Bosal thought of him, the image that came first was of a fragile child breathing raggedly through an oxygen mask.

If you just save him, I’ll give you anything.

If you want billions, I’ll give them.

If you want the chairwoman’s seat, I’ll even give you that.

A woman who commanded countless people had once knelt before a mere shaman and begged.

If only I had forced the ritual back then….

Shaking her head, Sun Bosal pushed away the now-meaningless supposition.

At the time, it truly had been the best option.

The child, already weakened beyond measure, couldn’t have endured it, and the resentment of the spirit was far too strong to handle recklessly.

Back then, she hadn’t known that the ghost would bring misfortune for so long.

Even if she had known, there would have been no other path.

“Amitabha….”

As if chanting a spell, Sun Bosal murmured the name of a Buddha she didn’t even serve and closed her eyes.

What had begun as a desire to help within the limits of her abilities had led to this.

Fate was truly a cruel thing.

“D-do I really have to go in…?”

Seha’s voice trembled, something rare for him.

They were inside the elevator heading to the chairwoman’s office.

Hearing that voice, Jeongyun snorted.

“What, scared you’ll get caught scamming?”

Seha didn’t answer.

He didn’t have the presence of mind to.

To be honest, Jeongyun’s words weren’t entirely wrong.

He hadn’t deliberately set out to scam anyone, but he was afraid the chairwoman might suddenly come to her senses and nullify the contract.

Seha had already sunk deep into his dream.

He’d planned out everything he’d do with that money.

In his imagination, Sejin was already abroad, freely studying what he wanted, basking in the sunlight of America—or maybe Europe.

Even if Chairwoman Son changed her mind now, the six months’ worth of salary he’d already received would remain untouched in his account.

That alone was a huge sum.

But it wasn’t enough for Sejin to study abroad freely, without worry.

Seha didn’t want his younger sibling to struggle overseas, working just to survive before even graduating.

If he’d never dreamed at all, it would’ve been different.

But despite telling himself not to, Seha—hopeless when it came to his sibling—had already filled his mind with too many flower-filled fantasies.

If all of that vanished overnight, heartbreak was inevitable.

So how could he not be nervous.

At first he’d wondered why he was being put through this.

Now, this job had become desperately important to him.

“Hoo….”

“Pathetic bastard.”

Jeongyun cursed every time Seha exhaled nervously.

But the insults didn’t even reach Seha’s ears.

His hands had gone cold, damp with sweat.