Eighteen years ago……...

"Chairman, Youn-Jae is settled in his room," Mr. Kim said carefully, his hands clasped behind his back as he stood at attention. "But he keeps asking when he'll be going home."

Chairman Han didn’t look up, his expression remained cold, detached. "Let him ask all he wants," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "He’ll get tired eventually. I’ll be sending him abroad soon enough—to learn properly."

Just then, a soft knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Mr. Kim paused, glancing at the Chairman for permission before moving toward the door. He opened it slightly, just enough for a quiet exchange with the servant standing outside.

The servant whispered, "Someone is at the gate, asking for the Chairman."

Mr. Kim’s brow furrowed slightly, but he maintained his calm demeanor. He nodded curtly and stepped out, making his way briskly to the CCTV monitor room. His eyes scanned the screen, and when he confirmed the identity of the visitor, his expression tensed briefly before smoothing into his usual mask of professionalism. He turned on his heel and headed back to the Chairman’s study.

As Mr. Kim re-entered the room, Chairman Han had moved to stand by the window, his back facing the door, staring out at the falling snow.

"Chairman," Mr. Kim began, his voice low, "Myung-Hwa is at the gate. I believe he’s looking for Kwang-Seok... and Youn-Jae."

For a brief moment, there was no response. The only sound was the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth and the steady fall of snow outside. Chairman Han’s eyes remained fixed on the swirling whiteness beyond the glass, his hands clasped behind his back, fingers tapping in an almost rhythmic motion, as though he were carefully calculating his next move.

Finally, without turning around, he spoke. "You already know what to do."

His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it—controlled, sharp, and cold. His face remained expressionless, but the tension in his shoulders and the way his fingers had stilled gave away the faintest trace of impatience. His thoughts seemed to drift beyond the room, far ahead, plotting.

As Mr. Kim left the room, Chairman Han remained by the window, watching the snow with an unreadable expression. The cold outside mirrored the icy calculations in his mind. His plan for Youn-Jae was set, and nothing—no one—was going to stand in the way.

***

After arriving at Chairman Han's mansion, Myung-Hwa and Ji-Won were left feeling helpless. Mr. Kim, his expression unreadable, lied to them, claiming that Kwang-Seok had already left with Youn-Jae and that he didn’t know where they were headed. "It’s best if you wait at home," he had said, his voice calm yet evasive.

As they stepped out into the cold night, the chill in the air mirrored the growing anxiety Myung-Hwa felt inside. Her steps faltered, her breath visible in the frigid air as uncertainty gnawed at her. She clenched her hands into fists, unsure of what to do next.

The two walked in silence, the thin layer of frost beneath their feet crunching faintly with each step. Myung-Hwa’s eyes darted around, scanning the empty streets. Her mind raced with fear—where could they possibly go to find Youn-Jae? Her chest tightened, and anxiety clawed at her throat as she struggled to think clearly.

Suddenly, the glow of headlights illuminated the path behind them, casting long shadows that stretched before them. The car’s lights grew brighter, making them stop in their tracks. Myung-Hwa’s heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively moved to the side, pulling Ji-Won closer as the car slowed to a stop beside them.

The window slid down, revealing an unexpected face. Myung-Hwa’s eyes widened in surprise. "Mr. Kim?" she greeted, her voice shaky, her nerves raw from the cold and the growing tension.

"Get in, Myung-Hwa. I’ll take you both home," Mr. Kim said, his tone flat, his face unreadable. The calmness in his voice did nothing to ease her anxiety.

Myung-Hwa hesitated, glancing at Ji-Won. The boy was trembling, shivering against the icy wind, his small hands rubbing his arms for warmth. With a deep breath and a feeling of unease she couldn’t quite shake, she opened the back door and guided Ji-Won inside. They slipped into the warmth of the car, and Mr. Kim started the engine, the low hum filling the uncomfortable silence.

As the car glided down the road, Myung-Hwa sat stiffly, her gaze fixed on the passing landscape. The familiar streets began to fade, replaced by unfamiliar surroundings. Trees lined the road, their bare branches swaying ominously in the cold wind. The further they drove, the quieter and more isolated the route became.

Myung-Hwa’s unease grew with every turn. She glanced at Ji-Won, who was huddled next to her, his small frame shaking. She tightened her grip around him, trying to provide some warmth and comfort. Her eyes flickered to the window again, noticing that they were heading in the wrong direction. A frown creased her brow.

"Mr. Kim," she called out, her voice uncertain. "This isn’t the way to our house. I think you’re going the wrong way."

Mr. Kim didn’t respond. His eyes remained focused on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

Anxiety swelled in Myung-Hwa’s chest. She glanced back at the road, her heart racing faster with each passing second. The secluded route, the absence of any other cars, the dense trees—they were going somewhere far from where they should be.

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"Mr. Kim!" Myung-Hwa’s voice shook, her panic rising as she sat forward in her seat. "Please, answer me. Where are we going? I need to find Youn-Jae!"

Still, no response. The air inside the car grew oppressive. Desperation clawed at her as she reached forward, grabbing Mr. Kim's shoulder, trying to shake him out of his silence. "Answer me!!"

Without warning, Mr. Kim slammed on the brakes, sending the car into a sudden stop. Myung-Hwa’s body jerked forward violently, nearly hitting the front seat. As she steadied herself, she noticed something that made her blood run cold—a gun, sitting on the passenger seat. Her breath hitched, eyes widening in terror.

Before she could react, Mr. Kim noticed her staring at the weapon. He swiftly reached for the gun, sliding it into his hand. With a smooth, deliberate motion, he loaded it, the silencer already attached.

Myung-Hwa’s heart pounded in her chest as she instinctively slammed her back against the seat, pulling Ji-Won protectively toward her. "Mr. Kim," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Why do you have a gun? I just want to find my son... What are you doing?"

Mr. Kim turned slowly, his eyes cold as they locked onto hers. "You won’t be seeing Youn-Jae again. Not from now on," he said, his voice eerily calm as he pointed the gun at her.

Fear tightened Myung-Hwa’s throat, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. She swallowed hard, tears pricking her eyes as she trembled not just from the cold, but from the overwhelming terror gripping her. "Did you lie to me, Mr. Kim? Why are you doing this?" Her voice cracked, the panic spilling over.

In an instant, she acted. With a surge of adrenaline, she shoved Ji-Won toward the car door, her movements frantic. "Ji-Won, run!" she screamed, her voice filled with desperation.

"But—" Ji-Won whimpered, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"No! Run! Don’t look back!" Myung-Hwa’s voice broke as she struggled against Mr. Kim, wrestling for control of the gun. Her hands gripped his wrist, forcing the weapon upward toward the ceiling as Mr. Kim fought to bring it back down.

"Go! Now!" she yelled again, her strength beginning to wane as she fought for both their lives.

Ji-Won, sobbing and trembling, fumbled with the door handle. His small hands shook as he finally managed to fling the door open. He hesitated for a brief moment, his tear-filled eyes locking onto Myung-Hwa's as she struggled against Mr. Kim’s overpowering grip.

"Run, Ji-Won! Run!" she screamed again, her voice hoarse from panic and exertion.

Ji-Won bolted from the car, his legs weak and unsteady, but he ran. His tiny frame shook as he raced into the night, the cold biting at his skin, his sobs echoing in the darkness. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, terror driving him forward, even though he didn’t know where to go. The only thought in his mind was to escape.

As he glanced back over his shoulder, he saw a flash of light inside the car—a gunshot. His breath hitched, but he forced himself to look away, his feet pounding against the ground as he ran, his mind consumed by fear.

***

"What a great first day in Seoul... I'm lost," the man muttered under his breath, his knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel. The heavy snow pelted against the windshield, reducing visibility and making the road treacherous. He leaned closer, squinting through the flakes. The GPS was no help in this weather, and he had already missed several turns. Frustration simmered within him.

Suddenly, a shadow darted in front of the car. He slammed his foot on the brake, the tires screeching across the icy road. His body lurched forward, crashing into the steering wheel. Heart pounding, he gasped for air, fingers trembling as they fumbled to undo his seatbelt.

"What the hell was that?" he whispered in shock, his breath visible in the cold air. He scrambled out of the car, boots crunching in the snow, and jogged toward the front of the vehicle.

His hands instinctively rubbed his face as the headlights revealed the culprit—just a cat. The small creature sat in the beam, its eyes glowing back at him. Relief washed over him, and he let out a shaky laugh, rubbing his temples in disbelief.

"Just a cat..." he muttered. But as he turned back toward the driver's seat, something caught the corner of his eye. His heart clenched.

Barely visible in the dim light, a small figure was huddled in the corner of the street, pressed against a concrete barrel. A boy. The man’s pulse quickened. He couldn’t leave now.

"Oh my god... it's a young boy," he breathed, rushing toward the figure. As he neared, his stomach tightened, the thin body trembling uncontrollably, shivering violently in the biting cold. Tears streaked his pale face, and his shoes were torn, exposing raw skin beneath.

The man crouched beside him, breath clouding the air as he knelt. "Hey, kid... are you alright?" His voice softened, but the boy, clearly terrified, remained silent, shrinking further into himself. His shoulders heaved with quiet sobs, eyes wide and frightened.

"Jesus," the man whispered, his own anxiety growing. He wanted to reach out, to comfort the boy, but he hesitated. The child looked so scared, so fragile, and he didn't want to make things worse. He could see the uncertainty in the boy’s eyes—the trust wasn’t there yet.

"What’s your name?" he asked gently, trying to coax a response. Nothing. The boy’s lips trembled, his breath coming out in shaky gasps as he stared ahead, unblinking.

Minutes ticked by, the temperature dropping, the cold seeping through their clothes. The man’s chest tightened as he glanced around, realizing how dangerous this was. If they didn’t move soon, the boy could freeze.

"Are you lost? Where are your parents?" His voice was calm, but inside, he was panicking. Still, the boy remained mute, his eyes wide and glazed with fear.

The man sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked back at the car. Time was running out. "Look, it's getting colder. You can’t stay out here, alright? You’ll freeze to death," he said, taking a step back, trying to give the boy space. "Come with me, I’ll take you somewhere warm."

Still, the boy didn’t budge. His small hands clutched the torn fabric of his jacket, his breaths coming in shallow, painful-sounding gasps.

The man cursed under his breath. He didn’t want to leave the boy, but he couldn’t force him either. Desperation gnawed at him. He turned and walked back toward the driver’s seat, hoping this would spur the boy into action.

"Alright, if that’s what you want," he said louder than before, opening the door and sliding into the car. He watched through the rearview mirror, praying the boy would follow. He hated playing this kind of game. His heart skipped a beat when he saw movement. The boy, still sobbing and trembling, slowly rose to his feet, weak and unsure. His legs wobbled, but he took tentative steps toward the car. The man sighed in relief, quickly getting out again. He rushed over and knelt in front of the boy, trying not to overwhelm him.

"Good... good," the man whispered, gently removing his own heavy jacket and wrapping it around the boy’s small, shaking frame. "You’re going to be okay now. Let’s get you warm." He guided the boy to the passenger seat, opening the door and helping him inside.

As the boy slid into the car, his body still trembling from the cold, the man closed the door softly. He hurried back to the driver’s side, his hands trembling as he turned the heater to full blast, the car was quiet as the warmth slowly filled the space. The boy huddled in the man’s jacket, tears still falling, but his sobs were softer now, almost as if he didn’t believe he was safe yet.

The man glanced at him again, concern tightening in his chest. "You’re safe now," he whispered, though he wasn’t entirely sure. Snowflakes continued to fall outside, their world a blur of white.

Who was this boy? And what had happened to him?

The man had a feeling this night wasn’t over yet.

The story doesn't end here......