This Is My Territory

The moment she stepped out the front door, the sky hung heavy and gray. Yesterday had been so bright and clear.

Maybe that was why the sense that more than a full day of her life had simply vanished felt even stronger now. It was the feeling of having wasted something precious.

Seol-hye took several steps toward Tae-yul, who had already chosen his direction. She stopped at a polite distance, back straight, hands neatly clasped in front of her.

“What is it? Weren’t you the one who practically ran out of here? Got something to say now?”

It was true. She had deliberately checked with the housekeeper to make sure he was out and had tried to avoid running into him.

Until the moment they actually met, she had been restless, unsure how to handle it. Yet the entire time she walked the long hallway with his tall frame in her sight, only one thought occupied her mind: her work must not be disrupted.

The sudden collapse. The fact that she had taken over his room and spent the night there. The impure act she had committed the moment she woke up.

This was a critical situation. All those unintended variables needed to be cleanly buried.

“May I ask where you’re going?”

His outfit was even more extravagant than usual, which invited all kinds of speculation. Was he planning to visit the club again like last time? Or perhaps a casino?

His reaction yesterday morning to the issues listed on the tablet she had handed him had been extremely negative, even hostile. It was easy enough to draw conclusions.

“I’ll say it again out of concern.”

“Places where there will be no drinking, drugs, gambling, scandals, or any other civil or criminal issues.”

He cut her off sharply and recited the words with crisp precision, as if reading from a textbook. His face made his displeasure obvious.

“Until this project is finished, there must not be any issues at all.”

At that, the man who had been heading toward the parking lot—in the opposite direction of Veritas—whirled around and slowly leaned down toward her.

If she hadn’t taken a step back, his sharply lifted jawline might have brushed the curve of her chest. That was how close he came.

“Feeling better now, are we? Starting to nag already.”

His eyes treated her like someone who had the nerve to lecture him when he didn’t want to hear it. Beneath that look was another question: did she not even know how to be grateful for the kindness of being looked after while she was sick?

“It may be inconvenient, but from now on I expect you to discuss all your movements with me in advance.”

“Again?”

“Let me see your phone for a moment.”

He pulled the phone from his back pocket without hesitation. Only after he straightened his bent posture did her breathing finally ease.

Seol-hye took out her own phone, opened the same application, and linked their locations.

“More thorough than you look.”

“Do not delete the app or disable location services.”

“Don’t you think it would be wiser to install it in moderation? This is my territory. Think of it as a jungle.”

“?!”

“Or that weak body of yours might end up getting devoured by a savage beast.”

The playful tone—somehow far from either criticism or mockery—burrowed even deeper into her mind. Suddenly the medicine seemed to hit. Her head grew hazy, and the world spun.

“Ah.”

The two phones slipped from her fingers. He caught them both in succession. The instant their eyes met, her mind snapped back into focus.

“I’m sorry.”

“Forget it. Three hours.”

“Pardon?”

Seol-hye handed one phone back while he slipped the other into his pocket. She stared blankly at his retreating figure as he turned and walked toward the parking lot.

One step. Two steps. Before he could finish the third, his voice drifted back.

“My jungle entry time limit.”

She had never expected an order disguised as a casual remark. Her heart beat strangely fast. Perhaps it was simply the way he expressed himself.

Whatever the reason, it was clear her heart had begun acting on its own, separate from her head. She didn’t know exactly when it had started.

Soon she saw him climb into the black midsize sedan among the three cars in the distant parking lot—the one that clashed most with his current outfit.

Seol-hye turned toward Veritas, leaving behind the quiet yet powerful engine note as the car finally left the estate. All through the upcoming meeting she would have to keep the location app running, driven by curiosity about this incomprehensible combination.

She wanted to know what kind of place a man dressed like that could possibly visit without creating any issues whatsoever.

Fortunately it wasn’t suspicion. Unlike Do-yul and Cha-yul, she knew he wasn’t the type to generate risk.

Yet suddenly a warning window flashed across the screen.

The weather at Ga-hyeon Memorial Park was as overcast as the look on Tae-yul’s face when he stepped out of the car after driving the outer ring road around Gyeonggi Province.

His attire was inappropriate for such a solemn place, yet he had no mental energy to spare for the stares of passersby. Simply processing the complicated emotions filling his numb chest already felt like it might shatter his mind.

Strangely, the nine years he had always thought of as so long now seemed terribly short. Standing here, it felt as though he had only just sent his mother off yesterday.

With a large bouquet of chrysanthemums held against his chest, Tae-yul reached the first floor of Building A in the VIP section among the three structures.

A few more steps and, without fail, he would meet his mother. She would smile brightly and say she had been waiting for him.

At that point Tae-yul stopped, turned around, and walked back out of the building. The article he had seen before the press could be silenced rose vividly in his mind.

What still mattered most to him was not the unrevealed cause of the fire, but the fact that his mother could have easily avoided the accident.

If only she had not done something so reckless as rushing into the flames to save a mere servant.

At the time, Tae-yul had been convinced that only the servant—who had gone to the studio used as an art storage room without his mother’s orders—knew the truth of the incident.

That was why the very first thing he planned to do upon returning to Korea was to find the woman who had served his mother for twenty years.

He needed to hear the truth of that day’s events, which she had stubbornly refused to speak about—whether out of shamelessness or because she was finally showing her true colors.

He was certain some hidden reason existed, and he suspected the truth behind it was quite impure.

But.

While she had tossed and turned in pain all night, she had sobbed and called out “Mom” several times. When he looked into it, he learned that the servant had passed away the day after he left for America.

Seeing that it was the result of complications from toxic gas inhalation, it seemed the two had been fated to share the same end after all.

He did not believe in God, yet he tried to reach a compromise with reason: at least in the mysterious domain of birth and death, humans did not hold the power.

If he thought of it that way, perhaps he could shake off some of the gloomy weight of this tiresome, entangled past.

While watching the fragile body on his bed, the way those smooth brows trembled with tears, for one brief moment…

Yet even if his mother had been a little colder, even if she had not been kind enough to value a servant’s life above her own, the outcome that could have been avoided remained unchanged.

If not for the servant, she might still be working in Lux instead of resting inside that stifling ceramic urn. He could not easily dismiss the thought.

Tae-yul set the bouquet down on the nearest spot within arm’s reach and walked back toward the car.

His mind was strange—wondering whether he had taken his medicine properly. His heart jolted at the fear that he might collapse again, as if it were completely broken.

Above all, the biggest problem was this thing that refused to communicate with either reason or emotion and could not be controlled at all.

In every way, he simply was not yet ready to face his mother.

Besides, there was this outfit.

“Time limit.”

Tae-yul climbed into the car. After several minutes of hesitation, he pressed the call button. The moment the line connected, he ended the call within two seconds.

The look on his face as he gripped the steering wheel slowly began to resemble the sky as the dark clouds gradually lifted.