BCRD 8

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

[The end of the fifth period has been announced. Examinees, please put down your writing instruments, flip your answer sheet over and place it on the right, and cover the question booklet along with any unused booklets and place them on the left, then wait quietly. The second proctor, please…]

As soon as I finished marking the last question, the bell rang with perfect timing. I put down my writing instrument without hesitation. Following the instructions, I quickly organized my desk, and the proctors began moving to collect the answer sheets. Their movements were almost mechanical.

Once the proctors, having confirmed the number of collected answer sheets, left the classroom, sighs erupted from all corners. The sighs varied in nature: disappointment, satisfaction, exasperation, relief, laughter, and so on. Some students were already clutching their heads and slumping over their desks as if their lives were over, while others stretched their arms in triumph, as if they had conquered the world.

I was neither here nor there. I felt like I did pretty well. There were a few tricky questions, but overall, it seemed easy enough. Still, it wasn’t something to jump to conclusions about. I didn’t want to get my hopes up before the results came out.

After packing up my bag, I left the classroom. The schoolyard was already packed with students who had rushed out, creating a sea of people. The noise was no joke, with everyone chattering about their thoughts on the exam or their plans moving forward.

“Hey, Jin!”

I was walking aimlessly with my backpack slung over my shoulder when someone smacked me on the back. Turning around, I saw a familiar face. It was Jiho, who, for some reason, had recently taken it upon himself to act as my one and only friend.

“How’d the exam go?”

It was the usual post-exam question. I shrugged and answered casually.

“Decent enough. You?”

“Screwed. When the results come out, I’m dead meat with my dad.”

He said that, but this guy had never actually bombed an exam. He always managed to stay in the upper ranks. The problem was his parents—especially his dad—whose academic expectations were so intense that anything less than stellar wasn’t good enough.

“Korean history! Damn, that was brutal. Why did our ancestors have to live such complicated, miserable lives and set our brains on fire? Man, it’s driving me nuts.”

As we walked in step, Jiho kept ranting about the difficulty of the college entrance exam. It started with Korean history, but by the end, it sounded like every subject was a problem. I thought the exam was relatively easy, so I didn’t really relate, but if I said that out loud, I’d probably just get called a jerk, so I just nodded along with a vague “Yeah, sure.”

“Ugh, whatever. Anyway, we’re free now! Hell yeah, I’m gonna party hard!”

Having finished his complaints, Jiho raised both hands in a burst of liberation. Not satisfied with that, he suddenly slung an arm around my shoulder and asked.

“So, how about some karaoke? PC bang works too.”

Both were places I wasn’t fond of. I’d gone with him a few times, but I’d never really gotten into it.

“Pass.”

I brushed his arm off my shoulder and declined. Unlike me, Jiho was outgoing and had plenty of friends to hang out with, so saying no wasn’t hard.

“Come on, why not!”

“I’m tired. Just wanna go home, eat, and sleep.”

It was true. With all the stress from preparing for the exam over the past few days, the moment it was over, exhaustion hit me like a tidal wave.

“Fair enough… You’ve earned it.”

He knew how hard I’d studied. Once, he’d even teased me, saying, “Why are you always glued to those damn workbooks? You live such a boring life.” His acknowledgment wasn’t just empty words.

Having cleanly given up on me, Jiho turned on his phone to find someone else to hang out with.

Before I knew it, we’d reached the school gate. Outside, it was bustling with people waiting to pick up students. One kid, who’d just walked out like us, spotted their parents and ran over excitedly. My eyes followed their back absentmindedly.

The parents welcomed their child with open arms, patting their head and saying, “Good job.” Seeing that, I couldn’t help but think of my own parents for the first time in a while. If my mom were still alive, would she have greeted me like that? My dad, too, might have gruffly patted my shoulder and said, “You did well.”

With a bittersweet smile, I forced myself to look away. Meanwhile, Jiho, who must have made plans, waved at me and turned in the opposite direction.

“I’m heading that way. Get home safe and rest up! Oh, and don’t ignore my texts!”

“Yeah. Take care.”

After parting ways with him, I headed toward the nearby bus stop. Normally, I’d walk home for some exercise, but I was too drained today. I even considered taking a taxi for the first time, that’s how exhausted I was.

After walking for about five more minutes, I reached a quieter street. But since it was an unfamiliar neighborhood, I wasn’t sure if I was going the right way. Was the bus stop even in this direction? If I had my phone, I could’ve checked a map, but I’d left it behind on purpose, so I had to rely on my gut.

I kept walking, trusting my memory despite my uncertainty.

Honk—!

Out of nowhere, a loud horn blared. Startled, I stopped in my tracks and turned toward the sound. A large car was parked by the roadside, its hazard lights flashing. That was definitely the source of the noise. But was it calling me? As far as I knew, there was only one person I could think of who’d drive a car like that.

Tilting my head and peering closer, the car window rolled down as if in response.

“Yo.”

Just as I’d expected. Waving and greeting me was none other than Hyunki hyung.

What’s he doing here?

Curious, I walked over to the car. At that moment, I heard a click—the sound of the car door unlocking.

“Hey, hyung.”

“Well, well, Haejin, good to see you too, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m… you know.”

“How was the exam? Did you nail it?”

He seemed to know I’d just taken the college entrance exam.

“How’d you know?”

“With all the fuss about kids taking the exam everywhere, how could I not? You’d have to be blind and deaf to miss it.”

Fair point. It wasn’t like the college entrance exam was some secret—it was all over the news.

“So, did you come to see me?”

“You bet! Hop in. I’ll treat you to something tasty.”

I hadn’t expected it, but he really had come to see me.

It felt a bit sudden, but not entirely surprising. He’d done this a few times before—showing up out of the blue without warning to buy me food. I think it started last year. He said he felt bad seeing a kid like me struggling alone. Despite looking like the textbook definition of a thug, Hyunki hyung was actually a really warm-hearted guy.

I was dying to go home and rest, but I couldn’t ignore the kindness of someone who’d come all this way for me. Without hesitation, I climbed into the passenger seat.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. What do you feel like eating?”

In moments like this, you have to be specific. I’d learned the hard way after saying “whatever” a few times and getting an earful like, “You’ve got no spine! How are you gonna make it in this world living so carelessly?” Since then, I’d make sure to name a dish.

“For the record, I’m fine with some tteokbokki or something.”

“Tteokbokki? After pulling off something big like that, you’re talking about flour-based snacks? Let’s go for bulgogi.”

Naming a specific dish didn’t always mean he’d go along with it, though. Like now.

“Alright, that works.”

I wasn’t complaining. Meat? Heck yeah. The stuff I buy myself is good, but food someone else pays for always tastes better.

“Cool.”

As if he’d already picked a spot, Hyunki hyung drove off confidently without even checking for a restaurant.

“By the way, are you really not going to college?”

As we waited for our order, the conversation naturally drifted to this topic. College. We’d talked about it a few times before, and I’d already made up my mind.

“Nope.”

Hyunki hyung frowned at my blunt response. When I first told him I wasn’t interested in college, he’d brushed it off, saying, “Does a degree even matter these days?” But lately, he’d been acting weirdly opposed to my decision.

“You’re not going because you can’t, or because you don’t want to?”

“Both, I guess.”

If we’re talking grades, it’s more that I don’t want to. According to my homeroom teacher, I could probably get into a decent Seoul university, though Seoul National University might be a stretch. If I’d really gone for it, even medical school wasn’t out of reach. But when it comes to my circumstances, I can’t afford it. Plain and simple: I don’t have the money.

“You know my situation.”

Four years of tuition plus living expenses. Even a rough estimate puts it at 20 million won a year. That’s an astronomical amount I can’t handle.

“I know. That’s why I’m saying this: if you can go, just go. Don’t mess around with motorcycles and break your legs. If you couldn’t go because you’re not smart enough, fine, what can you do? But if it’s just about money, it’s better to borrow and go.”

Sure, I could take out loans, like student loans. The problem is, I don’t want college badly enough to go into debt for it. I looked into national scholarships too—I’d qualify, so getting in wouldn’t be an issue. But after the first semester, you have to maintain a certain GPA, which isn’t crazy high, but I’d have to work part-time while studying, and honestly, I’m not confident I could manage both. And above all…

“I’m not that hung up on college. Right now, surviving is the priority.”

That’s the biggest reason I decided against it. Working feels like a better fit for my situation than studying.

“You’ve got hyung’s card, don’t you? What’s there to worry about?”

Up until now, that was true. I’d been living comfortably off Mr. Baek Sahyeon’s card. But that was about to end. I planned to return it once I’d spent the 50 million won limit. With about 2 million won left, I had roughly two months before I’d give it back.

“I can’t just rely on that forever.”

“Why not? You think hyung’s gonna take it back or something? Come on, you know he’s not like that.”

“I know he’s not.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s just… I have to take responsibility for my own life, you know? I need to start standing on my own two feet eventually, and the longer I put it off, the harder it’ll be. So I’m starting now.”

I dodged the truth, knowing he’d lecture me if I mentioned returning the card. Hyunki hyung clicked his tongue, clearly unimpressed.

“What kind of kid talks like some old geezer? It’s admirable, but… think realistically. You can’t live life like that! Use what you can use! If there’s an easy path, take it!”

He waved his hands in the air, passionately laying out his philosophy on life. Take the easy road if it’s there—honestly, I agreed with him. The problem was, his idea of the “easy road” was Mr. Baek Sahyeon’s card. That was a path that’d run out eventually, even if not right away.

“Hyung gave it to you to use. Why’re you being so cautious? Has he ever complained about you using it? No, right?”

“…No.”

“See!”

“But I’ve got my pride.”

“Pride, my ass. Throw it out! Pride, dignity—useless nonsense.”

Sometimes I wished I didn’t care about pride—it’d make life easier. If I could just toss it aside like he said, I would’ve done it ages ago.

“Anyway, paying tuition with a card feels a bit much.”

“Then ask for cash. He’d lend it to you without a peep. If you say it’s for studying, you think he’d ignore you?”

I didn’t have proof, but I had a feeling he was right.

“But I need to borrow a big chunk for something else. I have to move.”

“Move?”

“Yeah. I need to borrow for a deposit.”

The truth is, I got an eviction notice from my landlord this summer. The redevelopment rumors turned out to be true, and they decided to sell the building. They gave me until winter because I was a senior preparing for the exam, but now that it’s over, I need to start getting ready to move.

“I looked into it, and I’ll need at least 10 million won.”

“Ten million? Didn’t you get about that much from the accident settlement?”

“That’s long gone. I used it to pay off overdue rent and bills. Plus, some guy showed up saying hyung owed him money and took a chunk.”

And get this—that debtor was none other than hyung’s ex-girlfriend, who’d ghosted him. Apparently, she’d promised to make a fortune with crypto. After they broke up, he tried contacting her to get at least the principal back, but she went silent, and he still hasn’t gotten it.

“What? A scam?”

“She had an IOU with hyung’s signature.”

“You should’ve told her to get it from him since you didn’t know anything about it!”

“Of course I did. But she said her parents were really sick and needed money for surgery. I couldn’t keep arguing when she seemed so desperate, so I paid her with what cash I had left. She hasn’t come back since.”

“That’s insane. What about the deposit for your place?”

“Hyung blew through that ages ago.”

“Unbelievable. That crazy bastard did all sorts of crap.”

Hyunki hyung was right. My lunatic brother caused all kinds of trouble. I don’t even want to get into it, but I’m still getting collection notices from loan companies under his name. Not one, but three of them. His death hasn’t been processed yet.

“Yeah, he was a real piece of work. That’s why he didn’t go peacefully.”

I laughed, making a half-joke. Hyunki hyung let out a short, incredulous chuckle, probably thinking I was taking my brother’s death too lightly. But he didn’t scold me and instead played along with a grin.

“Yep. Got what he deserved, that bastard.”

“Yeah… But, like, is he really dead?”

Sometimes I wondered. What if he wasn’t dead? What if he’d hopped on a boat and fled to another country or was stuck somewhere doing forced labor?

“What, you hoping he’s still alive because he’s your brother?”

Hyunki hyung asked, testing me. I gave a bitter smile and shook my head.

The fear I had of my brother faded long ago. But the hatred? That’s still there. I despise him. He was a monster. I hope he never comes back, and I don’t want to see him again. Even if I’ve gotten used to his absence, his death still doesn’t feel real. Maybe because I only heard about it secondhand.

“Just curious. I didn’t see his body or anything… so I wonder.”

Hyunki hyung clicked his tongue.

“No ‘what ifs.’ Like you said, he didn’t go peacefully. Our hyung—Mr. Baek—hates people who go back on their word. When he says he’ll do something, he does it.”

Figured as much.

I nodded. Hyunki hyung looked at me with a complicated expression.

“Haejin.”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever… resented hyung?”

Resented? Never. Not even once. On the contrary, I’m always grateful to him. He wasn’t my brother’s killer—he was my savior, the one who slayed the monster. I don’t care if someone calls that twisted. Even if my mom, who loved my brother, appeared in a dream to scold me, I wouldn’t budge. That’s the truth.

“Nope. Never.”

At my firm answer, Hyunki hyung frowned and laughed.

“…Good to hear.”

“Yeah. Anyway, right now, the deposit is my top priority. But asking for both a deposit and tuition feels like too much. It’s all debt, you know? Too much debt, and I won’t be able to handle it.”

Hyunki hyung fell silent. He seemed to finally understand why I couldn’t be gung-ho about college.

Just then, the door slid open, and a server came in with a tray. My eyes were drawn to the food. They said the beef was sourced straight from Majang-dong, and sure enough, the meat and vegetables piled high in the wide pot looked exceptional.

The bulgogi was set on the gas burner, already prepared. Side dishes and rice followed, placed neatly on the table. Among the sides was raw beef sashimi that hyung had specially ordered. Maybe because I’d never buy it myself, it looked especially delicious. I was glad I’d given up rest to come along.

Hyunki hyung picked up a piece of sashimi with his chopsticks and placed it on my plate, saying,

“Eat up. You gotta eat a lot to grow big and strong.”

“I’m already grown.”

I’d finished the college entrance exam. Next year, I’d be old enough to drink. How much bigger did he expect me to get?

“No way! You’re still a kid, a baby.”

Ugh, come on! I hate being called a kid. I thought Mr. Baek Sahyeon was the only one who treated me like that, but no—Hyunki hyung was worse.

“I’m serious, don’t call me that anywhere else. I’ll just get laughed at.”

“A kid’s a kid, what’s the problem? By the way, are you even 160 centimeters?”

What?

I was genuinely pissed for a second.

“No way! I’m way taller! 177, okay?”

Technically, 176.5, but rounded up, it’s 177.

“No way, you’re bluffing.”

Man, I haven’t been this annoyed in a while.

“I’m serious! I never get called short anywhere else. It’s just that you and your people in that world are freakishly tall, so I look small by comparison. Objectively, I’m not short.”

I argued back earnestly. Hyunki hyung burst out laughing.

“You’re right! By the way, calling him ‘mister’ is hilarious! Why does it feel so weird?”

Oh, he was laughing about the title, not the content.

“You know, you’re the only kid who dares call our hyung ‘mister.’”

That made me feel a little good. It sounded like Mr. Baek Sahyeon saw me as at least a bit special.

Maybe my expression gave me away, because Hyunki hyung wrinkled his nose and clicked his tongue again. Then he asked,

“You like that, huh?”

Knowing he meant Mr. Baek Sahyeon, I played dumb.

“Yeah, I love it. The meat.”

Hyunki hyung snorted dismissively but let it slide, as he always did.

And the food? It was delicious. Really delicious.

💳

“Let’s see… So, the total spent up to today is…”

49,875,970 won.

That’s what my budgeting app showed for the past three years. In other words, the total amount I’d spent on Mr. Baek Sahyeon’s card.

“Phew… Just barely didn’t go over.”

Seeing that the first digit was a 4, I let out a sigh of relief. If it had started with a 5, I would’ve felt guilty.

I can confidently say that I have never spent money on unnecessary things. I only spent when I had to, and only on what was necessary. To be honest, there were some expenses, like delivery fees, that I could have saved on but didn’t manage to. Still, I never indulged in luxury… or did I?

I’m not sure. The more I think about it, the less I can claim to be completely blameless. Even though I thought I was being frugal, the average monthly expenditure was higher than I expected, which was honestly a bit surprising. It even made me wonder if I had entered something incorrectly in my budgeting app.

Did I buy too many workbooks?

Should I not have bought that laptop?

Did I really need those earphones?

I went into a brief period of self-reflection, scrutinizing my past expenses.

Well, whatever. I didn’t exceed the spending limit I set for myself. Especially this year, when my expenses crossed 40 million won in the first half, I paid extra attention to my spending. At this level, I can’t say I lived super frugally, but it’s not like I could be accused of being wasteful either.

“Right. Everything I bought was put to good use. It’s not wasteful.”

After rationalizing to myself, I closed the budgeting app and set down my now-warm phone.

“…”

For a moment, I stared blankly at the ceiling. A familiar sense of silence soon pressed down on me. Normally, I would have been studying. Listening to online lectures, solving problems, and reviewing until I was sleepy—that was my routine. But things had changed since the college entrance exam ended. Studying was no longer a necessary activity for me.

“What should I do…?”

I muttered absentmindedly.

The task of studying, which I had done every single day without fail and which had taken up the biggest part of my life, was gone. What came in its place wasn’t a sense of freedom, strangely enough. It was an uneasy leisure and a peculiar sense of emptiness. Time spent doing nothing didn’t feel comfortable—it felt awkward. It was as if I were stranded at a destination with nowhere left to go, overwhelmed by a vague sense of aimlessness.

Of course, even without studying, there were plenty of things I needed to do. Preparing to move, applying to universities, looking for a job, and so on. But times like this were the problem—late at night, when my options were limited, and I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do. This quiet void brought on by the late hour was the issue.

Creak, creak.

The old chair groaned like it was moaning every time I moved. The noise was almost welcome. I rocked my body back and forth in the chair, actively disrupting the silence.

My gaze drifted to the clock on the wall.

Today was December 31st, the last day of the year. It was 11:27 p.m., just 33 minutes until the new year began.

Sitting there longer didn’t seem like it would spark any inspiration for what to do. I grabbed my phone from the desk and got off the chair. Lying down on the bedding spread out on the floor, I turned on the TV.

A chill rose from the floor. The heater was set low, so it couldn’t be helped. Heating costs had gone up again this year, and if I tried to stay warm, I’d likely get a bill that would bring tears to my eyes.

As usual, the terrestrial channels were broadcasting celebrities in flashy outfits giving each other awards and enjoying themselves. I wasn’t particularly interested, but with nothing else to watch, I left it on.

After staring blankly at the artificially festive screen for a while, it suddenly switched to a live broadcast of the bell-ringing ceremony to welcome the new year.

“Here we go, the countdown is about to start. With the vibrant new year just around the corner, let’s wish for a happy one and count down together! Ten!”

Nine, eight, seven…

I counted along with the people on TV. Five, four, three… and then one.

It struck midnight, and the date changed to January 1st. Listening to the ringing of the Bosingak bell, I turned on my phone to send a message.

“Hello… Mister. This is Haejin. Happy… New Year, and please stay healthy this year too.”

I recited the New Year’s greeting I had prepared in my head while my fingers typed quickly. After finishing, I double-checked for any typos. Finding none, I attached a pre-downloaded image and sent the message. So far, it was just a standard, unremarkable greeting. But that wasn’t the end of what I wanted to send. I immediately started typing a new message.

“And… I’d like to meet up soon. I have something to talk about. If possible, maybe today… No, wait, today’s a holiday, so tomorrow? Yeah, tomorrow. Is it okay if I visit your office… tomorrow?”

After sending the messages, I gripped my phone and stared at the screen. About three minutes later, a “read” notification appeared below the messages.

“Will he reply…?”

Up until now, he had never responded. To be fair, I had never sent a message expecting a reply either. They were usually just reports like, “I had a good day, I’m going to bed now, good night, Mister.” But this time was different. I ended it in a way that openly invited a response. Since it was a different kind of message, maybe he’d react differently too.

Contrary to my hopes, though, even after a long time, my phone stayed silent. There was no change in the message window.

Sigh. I let out a breath. I should’ve just called. I was starting to regret it. Sure, it wasn’t exactly an appropriate time to call, but… that’s by normal standards. For someone like him, who’s a bit outside the norm, wouldn’t those standards not apply? In fact, for people in his line of work, this might be their peak active time. Since he read the message, he was clearly awake. He might have picked up if I had called.

Should I call now?

Or maybe send another message?

I was biting my lip, mulling it over, when suddenly a notification sound chimed, and the screen changed. A new message had arrived. My grip on the phone tightened instinctively.

“Huh?”

The sender of the new message was Mr. Baek Sahyeon. He had replied to my question. I was so shocked that I let out a shout without thinking.

“Wow! It came!”

Even though I had been waiting, getting an actual reply felt… surreal. Naturally, I was thrilled too. But there was one issue: the content.

“Okay.”

It was so short it took less than a second to read. I couldn’t help but feel a bit deflated, though I laughed too. It somehow reflected his personality… or rather, his age.

“Wow, a period?”

The period at the end felt so awkward. They say older people always use spaces and periods in texts, and it’s true.

“What a mister.”

Exactly. A mister. I still don’t know his exact age, but he’s definitely at least ten years older than me.

Chuckling, I rubbed my thumb over his message.

Short or long, it didn’t matter. Period or no period, it was fine. This was the first message he ever sent me, and it was an approval in response to my request. That alone was more than satisfying.

💳

It was the second day of January, when the cold was at its peak.

“Here. I’m returning this.”

After three years—precisely two years and eight months—I returned his card.

“…”

For a moment, he just stared silently at the card on the table, as if he had encountered something unexpected. It seemed he hadn’t anticipated that I’d voluntarily return it.

I watched his reaction and belatedly added my thanks.

“Thank you so much for everything. Thanks to you, I’ve eaten well and lived well.”

It was a light, sincere thank-you without any lingering attachment or regret. At that, Mr. Baek Sahyeon finally broke his silence.

“So, you’re saying we’re done here? No more business between us?”

“What?”

I was dumbfounded. I had meant it purely as gratitude, with no hidden intentions whatsoever.

“No way! Absolutely not!”

I waved both hands, vehemently denying it.

No more business? Quite the opposite. I had every intention of creating more reasons to stay connected. I had no plans to end things with Mr. Baek Sahyeon here.

“No?”

“No, definitely not.”

“If not, why not just keep using it to eat well and live well? Why return it?”

There were two reasons.

The first was,

“Because I’ve used it enough.”

That was it. The card was like a sort of inheritance from my brother. He had told me the amount was 50 million won, and as of yesterday, I had nearly spent it all. I had used up the money that was allocated to me and that I had a legitimate reason to spend, so I was returning it.

“When you first gave it to me, you said it was around 50 million. I’ve used that amount, so I’m giving it back.”

As I explained my reasoning, he frowned and laughed, as if he understood but didn’t quite accept it.

“I think I said around 50 million, not exactly 50 million… Did I ever tell you to return it after spending 50 million?”

“No, you didn’t say that exactly.”

“Right. I didn’t. Because I never intended for you to return it.”

Honestly, I was a bit thrown off. I didn’t think he’d explicitly tell me to return it, but I also didn’t realize he had no intention of taking it back at all. I thought he was just leaving it up to me to return it when the time came.

My confusion must have shown on my face because he chuckled and gestured toward the card with his chin.

“Take it back.”

It was a generous offer, but I wasn’t inclined to accept it. Because of the second reason I wanted to return the card.

“Well, it’s something you lent me, so I should return it.”

“No need to do it now.”

“I think now’s the right time. I’m an adult now. I need to start living on my own, and relying on you forever feels too shameless.”

“Oh, drawing a line, huh? You’re all grown up, so you’re done with this gangster mister, is that it?”

“What?”

Why does this mister keep misinterpreting my intentions? Is he doing it on purpose? This was practically distortion at this point.

Frustrated, I shifted in my seat and protested.

“No, that’s not what I mean at all. I have plenty of reasons to stay in touch with you.”

“Plenty of reasons?”

“Yes, plenty. So I’m returning the card. But instead…”

“Instead?”

I licked my lips. It was time to give the second reason for returning the card.

“Could you… lend me some cash?”

Saying it out loud felt a bit embarrassing. Just after saying I’d live on my own, I immediately asked to borrow money. He seemed taken aback too.

I wasn’t mistaken for someone whose words and actions don’t match… well, maybe I was. I couldn’t help it if he saw me as a smooth-talking hypocrite. But I had a clear and urgent reason for needing the money, so I quickly explained.

“I have to move soon. I looked into it, and I’ll need at least 10 million won for the deposit. And I haven’t found a job yet, so I also need some money for living expenses.”

For these reasons, I needed cash more than a card right now. Sure, I could withdraw cash with the card, but I couldn’t just use a large sum like 10 million won without his permission. Plus, as far as I know, cash withdrawals come with hefty fees and affect credit scores. Returning the card and borrowing cash was the best option in many ways.

Worried I might come off as too shameless, I went ahead and laid out my repayment plan.

“I’m not asking for a handout. I’m asking for a loan. I’ll pay you back. I can work full-time now. I’ve already looked into jobs and applied to five places. I haven’t heard back yet, but I think two of them are promising. If I work two part-time jobs seven days a week, I can make about 3 million a month. That’s enough to pay off the debt and still live comfortably.”

I had already done the calculations. Since I had no intention of going to college and didn’t need to spend time studying anymore, I could focus entirely on work.

He listened to me silently with an expressionless face before finally speaking.

“So, how much do you need?”

Thank goodness. It wasn’t a refusal. Since he was asking for the amount, it seemed he was willing to lend it.

“Fifteen million.”

That would cover the deposit and give me three months of breathing room.

I was a bit nervous he might think it was too much, but thankfully, he only raised an eyebrow slightly, showing no major reaction. Then again, for someone who uses a black card, 15 million probably wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t know the exact extent of his wealth, but I could tell it was on an enormous scale. A sum in the tens of millions wouldn’t make him flinch.

He crossed his arms, leaned back in his chair, and asked again.

“Have you decided on a place to move?”

“No, I’ve just looked at a few options. But I’ll probably stay around my current neighborhood.”

Even if I moved, my environment wouldn’t change much. Just a slight change in location? With a 10-million-won deposit and monthly rent in the 300,000s, I didn’t have much choice. For me, as long as the bathroom and roof were decent, it was enough, especially since I’d be out working most of the time once I started a job.

“…”

His gaze, heavy with thought, fixed on me. The silence carried a weighty stillness.

I swallowed hard.

Before long,

“Take it. As much as you need.”

The words I’d been waiting for came from his mouth.

Even though I had expected he’d lend it to me, hearing his approval brought a wave of relief. I was about to smile and thank him when he suddenly added,

“But with conditions.”

Conditions?

Oh, like interest or a repayment deadline?

Thinking of the usual terms that come with private loans, I nodded. As long as the interest wasn’t outrageously high, I was prepared to accept anything.

He didn’t hesitate and immediately stated the conditions. But they were,

“First, go to college. Not being able to go is one thing, but choosing not to isn’t acceptable.”

…a bit strange.

“Second.”

Suddenly, he leaned forward, tapped the card on the table with his fingertip, and slid it toward me. Just before it fell off the edge, I quickly caught it with both hands. And just like that, the card was back in my possession.

I looked at him, bewildered. With a calm expression, he nodded and gave the returned card a new meaning.

“Take it. It’s a graduation gift.”

College and the card.

These conditions were far beyond what I had expected, and they were entirely in my favor.

More confused than happy, I blinked dumbly for a while.

“Got it?”

I understood… of course I did. So, I nodded.

“Any objections?”

Objections… I had some. So, I cautiously shared my thoughts.

“I’m not really that set on college.”

I was preparing to apply, but my goal, then and now, remained the same. I wanted to confirm the results of my years of studying, not necessarily to attend. Getting accepted was the goal, not going.

“Get set on it. A college degree is one of those things that doesn’t hurt to have.”

“But…”

“You don’t want to go?”

“No, it’s not that I don’t want to… I just can’t afford to.”

The reason I gave up on college was simple and clear. I needed to work more than I needed to attend lectures, and I needed money more than knowledge. Realistically, money was more important to me than a degree.

After giving such a pathetic reason, I felt a bit embarrassed and rubbed my nose for no reason. It’s strange. When I told Hyunki hyung I couldn’t go to college because of money, I didn’t feel anything, but… maybe it’s because my feelings toward the two are different.

“Forget your situation for a moment and just tell me what you want. Do you want to go, or not?”

He reframed the question with conditions.

It wasn’t a question that required much thought, so after a brief pause, I answered.

“I do want to go.”

That was true. If money weren’t an issue, of course I’d want to go. Like he said, a degree is something you miss if you don’t have it and benefits you if you do. In the long run, I knew having one was better.

“Alright, then. I’ll take care of the tuition, so no more excuses.”

“What?”

He’d take care of it? Did he mean he’d pay for it?

Confused about whether I’d understood correctly, I tilted my head. He clarified his intention.

“It’s not charity. It’s an investment.”

An investment? An investment is putting in capital to gain a return. So what return was he expecting by covering tuition that costs millions a year? I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

“But I might not be able to study hard. Because of part-time jobs…”

“Doesn’t matter. Just bring me the degree.”

A degree… I could probably manage that. But my degree would only benefit me, not him, right?

“Any other issues?”

He abruptly put a period on the college topic and shifted the conversation.

“Uh, no… So, you’re lending me the money, right?”

“You asked for a loan.”

“Yes, for the deposit… What about interest?”

Even bank loans come with interest. This was a private loan, so there was no way it wouldn’t have interest.

At the mention of interest, he laughed as if it were absurd, like he was saying, “You think you can handle interest?” If he wasn’t going to charge it, that’d be great for me, but interest was part of what I should rightfully bear. The problem was that I could only handle a small amount… or rather, a very small amount. Knowing it sounded pathetic, I was honest.

“I’ll pay interest. But I’m sorry, I don’t think I can afford much.”

“Didn’t expect you to.”

…Right. He didn’t expect it.

Feeling awkward, I scratched my head. Oddly, even though it was clearly a jab at me, I didn’t feel bad. Maybe because it was so obviously true.

“Pay what you can handle.”

“Could you just tell me a specific percentage…?”

“Let’s go with a variable rate.”

Oh, a variable rate. That’s a thing, I guess. But can the borrower set the rate? This is my first time taking out a loan, so I’m not sure. It’s hard to say more without knowing. Guess I’ll just do as he says for now.

“Okay. I’ll pay what I can each month. …And about the repayment method, can I decide that?”

Truthfully, that was the main reason I was borrowing from him.