Ch 52

<52>

 

The Start of a New Time (13)

 

“Ah……”

 

Taeoh, who had been tapping the marble table with his finger as he tried to recall something from his memory, turned his gaze to Yoonjae. Even though he had found the question he desperately wanted to ask, he didn’t look particularly pleased.

 

“Is it true that Vice President Choi Seryeong knows my partner?”

 

“……Did Eunho tell you that?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Yoonjae, who was sipping his now-lukewarm coffee, lifted his long eyelashes.

 

“It’s just as he said. Vice President Choi is very interested in tormenting me. The problem, as I realized through Eunho, is that she also torments my partners.”

 

His parting with Junseo had been so natural, without any specific date or place to recall, that he had never considered Seryeong’s involvement. At the time, Yoonjae had been overwhelmed by the sudden death of his parents, and Junseo, who was also going through a slump with his art, wasn’t in the right state of mind to properly process a breakup. However, going through this recent incident with Eunho brought a suspicion of ‘what if’ to mind. Yoonjae deliberated on whether he should mention only that part.

 

“In fact, it was Vice President Choi Seryeong who told me about the New York gallery.”

 

One day, just before he was to leave the country for an investment, Choi Seryeong had casually mentioned Junseo in a CEO’s reception room, piquing his curiosity. That kid is doing well in New York, I heard. The gallery is not too far from where you’re staying. She had sneered, asking if a dramatic romance wouldn’t be better for a reunion.

 

Taeoh stroked the area around his lips with his thumb and forefinger, lost in thought. The biggest cause of Junseo’s depression had been the pain of not being recognized in his home country. Before his success in New York, he had been met with predominantly harsh criticism in Korea, and even after his success, he was so thoroughly ignored that one had to deliberately search just to find articles about it, let alone receive any acknowledgment. Taeoh retraced his past memories.

 

“His reputation in Korea wasn’t great when he came over to New York. And it was the same after, of course. I’m starting to think there might be a connection. What are your thoughts?”

 

Come to think of it, Taeoh had often run into Vice President Choi Seryeong at private auctions and art museums. The thought that Choi Seryeong, who enjoyed collecting antique art and was interested in paintings, knew many related figures and could have easily created public opinion against Junseo flashed through his mind.

 

“It’s true that Vice President Choi frequently interacts with museum directors. It’s not certain, but there’s a high probability she has a hold on the media in that circle.”

 

“I’ll have to look into it.”

 

A sense of displeasure arose at the thought that Choi Seryeong might have extended her reach to Junseo, but he decided to put it out of his mind for now. It wouldn’t be too late to judge after investigating. Taeoh placed the report back into the empty envelope and rose from his seat.

 

“Wrap up the shareholders’ meeting well, and let’s go together. You have to hear the baby’s heartbeat, too.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I have to take responsibility, since I promised Eunho-ssi I would defeat Yuseong Group and bring Executive Director Choi Yoonjae to him.”

 

Yoonjae let out a snort at Taeoh’s playful tone. Although their personalities were different, Yoonjae felt comfortable with Taeoh, as they shared many common beliefs and values. Yoonjae stood up and extended his hand to him first.

 

“Understood.”

 

Taeoh stopped Yoonjae from following him out and left, cutting through the rainy street. Yoonjae watched from the living room window until the red taillights of the car he got into disappeared from view.

 

“Hoo.”

 

Yoonjae rolled his stiff eyes left and right, then closed and opened them. He returned to his seat and continued reviewing the details of the morning meeting.

 

Chief Yoon stayed at the company until 4 p.m., personally sitting in on the meetings Yoonjae attended via video conference to gauge the atmosphere. Factions had formed among the employees who had sensed the mood within the company, and Yoonjae’s side was overwhelmingly larger. At 4 p.m., Chief Yoon would take all the reports and visit Yoonjae in person to report every detail of the company’s goings-on.

 

Fortunately, thanks to the rush of investment deals he had pushed through, a one or two-month absence wasn’t a major issue. However, if things became too lax, discipline could slacken, so Yoonjae began to tighten the reins. After confirming the audit reports coming up from the physical investment division, he checked the clock in the bottom right corner of his monitor. It was almost 4 o’clock.

 

‘Is it midnight over there?’

 

He would think about calling after lunch, but when his entire focus was on reviewing documents, he would strangely only remember around 4 o’clock and regret it. Fidgeting with his phone, Yoonjae decided to let it ring just five times before hanging up. He pressed the video call button and swallowed dryly. But before the fifth ring, Eunho answered the call.

 

“Oh, sorry. Go back to sleep.”

 

-……No. It’s okay.

 

The ringing stopped, and the screen went black, making it impossible to discern any shape. Feeling sorry for waking someone who was deep in sleep, he was about to cut the call short when the screen brightened, revealing Eunho’s face, deeply shadowed. Under the yellow light of a desk lamp, Eunho let out a long yawn and, surprised by his own face on the screen, covered his mouth with his hand.

 

His hair was not just messy but sticking out in the pattern of the pillow, and his eyes were puffy. Eunho pressed down his flyaway hair with his palm, then saw Yoonjae watching him fondly and broke into a bashful smile.

 

“Is it really hard? I heard the morning sickness is severe.”

 

-Ggomyul is making its presence known, so I have to respond. It’s more or less bearable.

 

Yoonjae brought his finger to the screen, over Eunho’s image. His pheromones, desperate to feel that warm body heat, flowed out uncontrollably at the sight of Eunho and settled on the floor.

 

-Did you meet with Managing Director Kang?

 

“Yeah. I met him and heard about it.”

 

-You know I’m ridiculously good at adapting. Don’t worry too much.

 

Waving his hands as if to say not to worry one bit about things here, Eunho roughly wiped away the tears that had welled up from his yawn.

 

“……”

 

Eunho was smiling. The sight of him trying to hide his fatigue with a bright smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling prettily, made Yoonjae’s heart melt warmly.

 

“Eunho.”

 

-Yes.

 

“……I miss you.”

 

He had deliberately swallowed the words again and again, afraid that if he said he missed him, the impulse to chase after him immediately would arise. But as the time apart grew longer, he became more anxious, trying to hold onto Eunho and seek reassurance even like this. Eunho stared intently at Yoonjae, then puckered his lips and made a little smooching sound.

 

-I love you.

 

Eunho’s last words tickled a place in his chest, soaking in softly and instantly calming his restless heart.

 

Ever since Eunho left, Yoonjae had been sleeping poorly every night. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a quality night’s sleep; when he opened his eyes in the morning, his head always felt heavy and groggy rather than refreshed.

 

Eunho’s ‘I love you’ comforted Yoonjae. The yellow light of the lamp gently seeped into the corners of his neatly upturned lips. As if mesmerized, Yoonjae stared blankly at Eunho before whispering softly, “Me too.”

 

He had dozed off while they were talking. The chirping of birds before dawn pierced through the window and into his ears, and his eyes, which had been closed the whole time, slowly fluttered open. Oh, it’s off. Noticing that the battery of the phone he was holding was dead, Eunho was about to get up to find the charger when he froze, staring blankly.

 

“……I charged it to 100% yesterday.”

 

The phone, which he had fully charged before talking to Yoonjae, was dead.

 

Could it be that he watched me sleep the whole time? He had no memory after seeing the battery drop to 70% during their conversation. Eunho rubbed the black screen and got up from his spot.

 

Another slow day began. The ticking of the second hand, a sound he usually never noticed, entered his ears, minutely dividing the flow of time.

 

With time to spare, Eunho mulled over every moment with Yoonjae, from their first meeting until now. Come to think of it, though he seemed blunt and cold, he was always affectionate, contrary to his appearance. He had often flustered Eunho with words and actions that crossed the line, even knowing he had a boyfriend, but looking back now, not a single one of Yoonjae’s words had been empty. It was as if he could see the future.

 

The potato salad he had been able to eat until just yesterday was added to the rejection list. He threw up everything he had eaten in the bathroom, and as he came out, a wave of dizziness hit him. Eunho spread his hands out and sank right onto the floor. His ears were ringing, and his sense of spatial awareness faltered as if defying gravity, making him suddenly terrified.

 

He had once fainted from orthostatic hypotension and woken up immediately, but he had hit his head on the floor when he fell unconscious, leaving a large bump on the back of his head. The memory of waking up already lying on the floor with his head throbbing as if it would crack made Eunho determined to sit on the floor whenever he felt the signs of fainting, trying to catch his breath and stay conscious.

 

“…Ah, seriously.”

 

He missed Yoonjae.

 

Like a habit, Eunho thought of Yoonjae all day. Because he was struggling and in pain, his thoughts kept drifting to Yoonjae. Is he sleeping right about now? He needs to get enough sleep, what if he can’t sleep deeply? With every small, trivial action, his brain, as if brainwashed, summoned Yoonjae. He really missed him. He couldn’t count how many times he had imagined that if he just took a nap and woke up, he would be in Yoonjae’s bedroom.

 

Whenever he felt that way, Eunho would stroke his flat stomach, which didn’t feel flat at all. Because of the nausea, his digestive system was always empty, making his lower abdomen concave.

 

Ggomyul, please accept something, anything. Eunho whispered softly while stroking his belly, then swallowed his words. He felt sorry for complaining to a baby that was smaller than a dot.

 

Knock, knock. The sound of a knock on the door echoed in the empty room, followed by a click as it opened. Olivia, who had poked her small face in, saw Eunho sitting on the floor and opened her mouth wide to scream.

 

“No, I’m okay.”

 

“……”

 

“Really, I’m fine.”

 

Eunho quickly waved his hand. He had already seen his own ravaged appearance in the bathroom mirror, so he could guess how he looked in Olivia’s eyes, but he tried to laugh it off as if it were nothing.

 

“I brought ice cream. Want to eat together?”

 

Opening the door wide, Olivia pushed in a wooden wagon and showed him two fruit sorbets and a plate of cookies. Eunho let out a small laugh and pushed himself up slowly with both hands on the floor. He swayed a bit, but the ringing in his ears didn’t return like before.

 

“You must be bored without your dad and grandma here.”

 

“I have you, Uncle.”

 

Olivia coolly replied as if the loneliness of no one being around was no big deal. This feeling isn’t unfamiliar, who was it? Ah, Choi Yoonjae comes to mind again. My god, thinking of Choi Yoonjae while looking at Olivia. Eunho let out a long sigh, finding it absurd.

 

His throat was sore and stinging from vomiting, making him hesitant to put anything else in, but the sorbet, perhaps because it was cold, soothed his swollen throat and went down slowly. Olivia pushed the freshly baked cookies toward Eunho.

 

“The chocolate chip cookies and butter cookies are delicious.”

 

Normally, his hand would have reached out before Olivia even finished speaking, but his body rejected even the rich buttery scent. Eunho caught his breath and changed the subject so as not to seem rude.

 

“Um… Uncle is full. I don’t think I can eat the cookies, what should I do?”

 

Olivia stared at Eunho’s pale face for a moment, then pulled the plate toward herself and enunciated clearly.

 

“Daddy……”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Told me to scream if you look sick, Uncle.”

 

Beneath her naturally curled eyelashes, her dark eyes sparkled as if embedded with stars. As the child, who held not a single dark shadow, spoke so seriously, Eunho found himself naturally drawn in, listening intently.

 

“He said the baby in your tummy might be sick.”

 

“Your daddy told you that?”

 

The powdery, fair face gave a small nod. Her fine, dark hair swayed every time she moved her head.

 

“Grandma and Daddy told me to protect you well, Uncle.”

 

They say some beings are just lovely to look at, and it seemed they were talking about Olivia. Was it because of Ggomyul in his belly? A maternal love he never had before suddenly welled up, filling him with infinite affection for the Olivia before him.

 

“I was asked to take good care of Olivia, you know?”

 

“My daddy?”

 

Olivia tilted her head, her chin wrinkling like a walnut as she pouted her lips. It seemed that, from a child’s perspective, being asked by both sides to protect each other was hard to understand. Eunho smiled serenely and slowly savored the rest of his sorbet.

 

***

 

The interim results of Hansung Pharmaceutical’s phase 3 clinical trial turned out to be somewhat disadvantageous for Yoonjae. A 61% therapeutic effect on immune response. While it fell short of market expectations, it was a meaningful result for lung cancer treatment in Korea, achieved through purely domestic research.

 

-61% might seem laughable, but it’s not. At this level, it’s basically top-tier in the domestic market.

 

“So you’re saying the process up to now could be true, without exaggeration?”

 

-There’s still a sense that the existing data was inflated, but… ah… since I’m not a researcher at Hansung Pharmaceutical, it’s hard for me to draw any conclusions.

 

Before the phase 3 interim results were announced, the CEO of Hansung Pharmaceutical, a major shareholder, had sold off a significant number of shares, so failure was expected. He had been nicely blindsided. Investing was always like that. Not only was it difficult to see even one step ahead, but the pharmaceutical and biotech markets, in particular, were closer to gambling than other investments unless one got a hint beforehand.

 

Choi Seryeong could breathe again. This also meant that Yoonjae’s Plan A had been broken. Yoonjae pressed his temples as he listened to the slightly subdued voice of his friend from another pharmaceutical company.

 

“That’s not why I asked. I guess I put too much pressure on you.”

 

-Pressure? What pressure? I’m watching with interest too, so it’s fine. But you lost out by not investing here, right?

 

“There are plenty of investment opportunities with more merit than this one. And I had no intention of investing, even without your input.”

 

-The CEO here is a bit of a scumbag. It’s better to invest elsewhere like you said, rather than getting involved with the wrong person and going through hell.

 

Hansung Pharmaceutical’s stock, which had started at -10%, turned positive in 30 minutes and hit the daily upper limit before 10 a.m. When he asked Chief Seong of the stock management division about the chart’s flow, he gave a concise assessment, saying that someone had been laying the groundwork for a couple of months, and it was a chart that could yield a minimum of 50% to a maximum of 110% profit in a short period.

 

High-level rumors circulating in the stock market whispered that the price could rise by 3 to 7 times its current value within the next year. There was even talk of getting in on it now if he wanted to chase the trend, but Yoonjae flatly refused. The company policy dictated that weight was distributed by sector, and since they were currently reaching their desired targets, there was no reason to force money into pharmaceutical stocks.

 

Yoonjae had failed to find anything in the Hansung Pharmaceutical CEO’s demeanor that could elicit trust. The uneasiness of a man skilled only in slippery diplomacy, who charmed people with his silver tongue, still bothered him.

 

The thought that this could be a longer fight than expected crossed his mind. He didn’t want to be worn down, but if this was Choi Seryeong’s luck, he had to willingly accept it and move on to the next step. With Hansung Pharmaceutical’s triumphant success, the second promissory note would pass smoothly, but the company’s insides would be in turmoil due to the prosecution’s complaint. He would have to watch the situation and look for the right timing to cut the bud again.