Page 10 of Scarbound

“Focus on following orders,” Chung-Hee said coolly. “Not on gossip.”

San bowed his head. “Understood. I’ll begin right away.”

As the elevator doors opened onto the executive floor, San waited for Chung-Hee to step out first, then followed two steps behind.

“One more thing, San,” Chung-Hee added, pausing at his office door. “Find out when the brother’s flight is.”

“To where?”

“I don’t know.”

San blinked. “You’re asking me to find a needle in a haystack.”

“By the end of the day,” Chung-Hee replied, eyes narrowing. “Or else.”

San said nothing. His mouth tightened, but he nodded once reluctantly.

CHAPTER 4

Two hours before the workday ended, much earlier than expected, Chung-Hee’s phone rang. He excused himself from a meeting with investors and stepped outside the conference room.

“Mr. Lee, I’ll need a bonus for this,” San said. “I owe a lot of people favors.”

“I’ll decide after I hear what you found. Is your source reliable?”

“Absolutely. Jung Gong committed suicide last year. His body was cremated and buried at Seoul National Cemetery. He was frequently admitted to a psychiatric clinic before his death, likely suffering from a mental illness. Possibly depression, from the time of your brother’s death until his own.”

“Depression?” Chung-Hee frowned. “This is the first I’m hearing of that. Are you certain?”

“Medical confidentiality limits what I could confirm.”

“I see.” Chung-Hee exhaled slowly. “Jung Noeul was telling the truth. Tell me about him.”

“Jung Noeul resumed his studies after a two-month absence. Jung Gong dropped out. As for Jung Noeul…” San hesitated.

“Go on,” Chung-Hee urged, his attention sharpening.

“Sir, it’s an odd coincidence. Like you, he studied computer science with a specialization in cybersecurity. He attended KAIST instead of MIT. He graduated top of his class and has won multiple awards for hacking and analytical thinking.”

“So he went on with his life,” Chung-Hee said, anger sharpening his voice. “While my brother lay under cold marble, he studied, competed, collected awards.”

“Where is he moving?” Chung-Hee asked.

“New York. He received an offer to work as a red teamer, which is quite an achievement for someone his age.”

“Hire someone to follow him. Daily reports. Where he goes, who he meets, what he eats, when he sleeps.” His voice hardened. “How often he cries. I want everything. Cost doesn’t matter.”

“The CFO’s brother lives in New York. He might be able to help.”

“Forget it. I’ll contact Jun myself.”

The line went dead. Chung-Hee stared at the phone for a moment before dialing again. “Call CFO Han to my office immediately,” he said sharply. “And bring two cappuccinos.”

A few minutes later, Jun stepped into his office.

“Hello, my friend. You wanted to see me?” Jun’s calm voice filled the room. “How’s it going?”

“I’m managing. It’s been a difficult day.” Chung-Hee gestured toward the couch. “Sit, Jun. I need your help with something. Today at the cemetery… someone caught my attention.”