One day in Seoul 🇰🇷

🇰🇷: 58

The house was buzzing with activity, a stark contrast to the overwhelming silence that had loomed earlier. John and Daniel were making calls, gathering every shred of evidence they could find, chasing down every loose end that might connect Ace to his network of crime. It was clear this wasn't going to be an easy battle-it would take every ounce of strength and strategy we had left.

The maid brought out plates of food and beers, but no one seemed to have the appetite. Everyone was focused, their minds set on one thing-ending this. I stood up from the table, feeling a knot in my stomach. I could end this quickly, I thought. I could just ask Dad for help.

But I knew my father too well. Nothing came for free with him, especially not favors. If I asked for his help, it wouldn't be the end of it. He'd want something in return. It was always business with him, always something that had to be repaid.

Still, I had no choice. We couldn't do this alone.

I took a deep breath and went upstairs. My hand hesitated as I reached the door to my parents' room. I knocked twice, quietly, hoping not to wake Mom. The door creaked open, and I stepped inside. My mother was already asleep, her breathing steady and peaceful, but Dad had just come out of the shower, his hair damp and his robe loosely tied.

"무슨 일이니, 프랜시스?" he asked, his voice calm but direct.
(Musun il-ini, peuransiseu?)
(What is it, Francis?)

I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "저랑 얘기 좀 할 수 있나요? (Jeorang yaegi jom hal su issnayo?)
(Can I talk with you?)

He glanced at me and then sat down at the small table in the corner of the room, motioning for me to sit across from him. I sat, trying to stay calm.

He looked at me knowingly. "네가 뭘 부탁하려는지 이미 알고 있어.
(Nega mwol butakaryeoneunji imi algo isseo.)
(I already know what favor you're going to ask.)"

I blinked in surprise. Of course, he knew. He always did. "아버지, 어떻게 알았어요? (Abeoji, eotteoke arasseoyo?)
(Dad, how did you know?)"

His expression softened a bit, but he remained businesslike, leaning back in his chair. "이미 다 처리하고 있어. 걱정하지 마라. (Imi da choryeago isseo. Geokjeonghaji mara.)
(I'm already taking care of everything. Don't worry.)"

"내일 나단의 장례식이 있잖아. 오늘 밤은 편히 쉬어라. (Naeil Nathan-ui jangryesigi issjana. Oneul bam-eun pyeonhi swi-eora.)
(Tomorrow is Nathan's mourning. Get some rest tonight.)"

I stared at him, shocked. He had already taken control of the situation? Without saying a word, he had moved all the pieces into place. But why? This was business for him, and yet... here he was, handling everything without asking for anything in return.

"대가는 뭐죠, 아버지? (Daegganeun mwoyo, Abeoji?)
(What's the exchange, Dad?)" I asked quietly, the tension still heavy in my chest.

He smiled at me, a rare sight. "이건 대가가 아니야, 프랜시스. (Igeon daeggaga aniya, peuransiseu.)
(This isn't an exchange, Francis.)"

"이건 내가 아버지로서 해야 할 최소한의 일이야. (Igeon naega abeojiroseo haeya hal choesohan-ui iliya.)
(This is the least I can do as your father.)"

Something tightened in my chest. I had always thought of my father as cold, someone who saw everything as a deal, an agreement. But in that moment, I saw a glimpse of something else-a father who cared for his son, even if he didn't show it often.