IRLPLBIO Chapter 1 Part 1

Chapter 1 #0. The Regression of a Hunting Dog Discarded After Serving Its Purpose.

The city lights painted the view outside the window in various colors. Even if it wasn’t as spectacular as seen from the top of a skyscraper, it was a very precious sight to Jae-gu. He had run for over 20 years for this day.

Daeyeong Security. A new subsidiary of the nation’s leading conglomerate, Dae-yeong Group, and the place where Jae-gu was inaugurated as President. Simultaneously, it was a path through which he could bring his “brothers,” who had been with him for over 20 years at Dae-yeong, into the sunlight.

He did it. Finally. Cleaning up after the lunatic Han Seong-cheol was now over.

“Manager Yang, no, President Yang now. What are you looking at so intently?”

“Ah, Chairman.”

Jae-gu’s expression hardened for a moment at the voice from behind. But when he turned around, he smiled awkwardly. As if embarrassed that he had unconsciously leaned into the window, craning his head, he scratched the back of his head.

“It’s what I’ve always wished for, so I got carried away with emotion. Congratulations on your inauguration, Chairman.”

“What do you mean? I’m not Chairman yet.”

“It’ll be over once it passes the board meeting, won’t it? It will pass unanimously.”

“Haha, I know. Our President Yang is thorough in his work.”

Han Seong-cheol, a man with a well-maintained appearance for his age, twirled a wine glass in one hand. The half-filled wine swayed precariously.

Seong-cheol, patting Jae-gu’s shoulder with his other hand, grinned.

“I trust that President Yang has persuaded the executives well. Now, when it’s just us, speak comfortably, alright?”

“Yes, Chairman.”

“I said, speak comfortably, comfortably.”

“F-fine, Seong-cheol.”

Seong-cheol, having forced an answer, handed the glass to Jae-gu.

“Drink it all. It’s a celebratory drink.”

“I’m taking medication, so alcohol is a bit…”

“I said it’s a celebratory drink. I’m giving it to you, are you refusing to drink it?”

Seong-cheol’s face, which had been pleasantly smiling just moments before, instantly contorted. His habit of throwing a fit when things didn’t go his way hadn’t changed an iota since he was a high school student, even now that he was approaching forty.

In the end, Jae-gu took the glass and emptied it into his mouth in one gulp. The wine, barely one or two sips, slid down his throat before it even touched his tongue. Seong-cheol, who should have said that’s not how you drink wine, uncharacteristically said nothing.

Flick.

Instead, he lit a cigarette and leaned back deeply into the sofa.

Jae-gu, attempting to sit down after him, swayed his legs, and the next moment, he toppled forward. He wondered if it was dizziness, or perhaps due to mixing medication and alcohol, and reached out to grab something, but his hand, barely touching the edge of the table, simply slipped.

Clang!

The fallen glass shattered with a loud noise right in front of him, yet he couldn’t avoid it. Jae-gu now realized that his arms and legs weren’t moving as he wished.

He forced open his eyes, which were rapidly blurring. It was clear Han Seong-cheol had pulled some trick.

Seong-cheol exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke towards Jae-gu, who was glaring at him.

“That’s right. I did it.”

He confessed voluntarily and then rattled off answers to questions he hadn’t even been asked.

“It’s not poison, it’s a muscle relaxant. It would be troublesome if you went wild. It’s not like I don’t know your abilities.”

“Why, why…”

“Now I’m the Chairman, aren’t I? I need to clean up the dirty stuff and start anew, don’t I?”

Seong-cheol’s “dirty part” was Jae-gu.

While Seong-cheol built his image and capabilities, pretending to be clean and dignified, Jae-gu worked behind the scenes, eliminating his rivals, cutting off those who clung to them, and using money and violence to manipulate people. It was Jae-gu who personally plunged into the muck that Seong-cheol wouldn’t even look at, getting his hands and feet dirty to clear the way.

Over 20 years had passed since he alone followed Seong-cheol to Seoul at the promise of being rewarded for his fists, crawling when told to crawl, and rolling when told to roll. Even though Jae-gu said he would keep quiet and live peacefully now that he had a small subsidiary, Seong-cheol couldn’t bring himself to trust Jae-gu and was determined to get rid of him.

“My brothers… Kwang-cheol… what about him…?”

He simply couldn’t fully believe the words “muscle relaxant.” His tongue was rapidly stiffening.

Even in this situation, Jae-gu worried more about his “brothers” than his own body. His “brothers” were not blood relatives, but members of an organization who trusted Jae-gu and followed him. Among them, Park Kwang-cheol was a younger “brother” who had been with Jae-gu since his middle school days when Jae-gu was carelessly reckless.

When Jae-gu lost his mother and had no one to rely on in the world, it was Kwang-cheol’s mother who took care of him. From then on, Kwang-cheol, who had grown close to him, was more than a blood brother to Jae-gu, and Kwang-cheol’s mother was like his own mother.

Kwang-cheol was also the one who had repeatedly told Jae-gu not to trust Han Seong-cheol, and he was the one most delighted that Jae-gu was breaking ties with Han Seong-cheol this time.

Although a large burn scar distorting one side of his face made his impression somewhat fierce, as far as Jae-gu knew, Kwang-cheol was the kindest and gentlest person.

“Jae-gu, you stupid son of a bitch.”

Seong-cheol, with a nasty laugh, flicked cigarette ash onto Jae-gu’s head. A lump of ash, still retaining heat, slid down Jae-gu’s forehead, leaving a burn mark.

“Park Kwang-cheol, you’re the only one who didn’t see through that bastard. You know that? Well, you’re so stupid that you’d take in some crazy bastard as your brother. If you knew what he did to follow you, you’d be too disgusted to even call him your brother…”

Seong-cheol, who had been blabbering on, turned his head. It was noisy outside the door. Seong-cheol said briefly, “Come in,” then extinguished his cigarette by grinding it into Jae-gu’s hair.

Burly men roughly set down a limp man. It was Kwang-cheol.

Kwang-cheol, drenched in so much crimson blood that even his burn scar was invisible due to massive bleeding, was already unconscious. His spasmodic movements, as if he had been hit badly on the head, gradually slowed down.

“What good would that do now, right? If you die here with me, that bastard would probably like it too.”

As if in defiance of Seong-cheol’s words, Jae-gu, whose eyes were half-closed, gasped.

He had lived his life wrongly. Even if it was for his own survival, he wondered if this was how he was receiving the karma for having threatened, extorted, and assaulted others.