Just Twilight

Chapter 42

Cases like Jung Mansu’s were classified as Tier 1 debtors under company standards. While he didn’t have any property to offer as collateral, his steady income as a skilled laborer ensured the company could reliably collect payments each month.

In this line of work, profits largely came from interest, so debtors who repaid their loans too quickly weren’t ideal either. Still, to maintain liquidity, it was necessary to balance the proportion of Tier 1 and Tier 3 debtors.

But then, Jung Mansu had an accident.

For someone whose livelihood depended on physical labor, losing the ability to work was equivalent to losing the ability to repay his debt. Money that was expected to be fully recovered within two years was now in limbo, with no clear timeline for repayment. A new plan was needed.

The only silver lining was that his injury had been classified as a workplace accident, which meant compensation talks were underway. The compensation amount was rumored to be enough to not only clear his debt but also leave a surplus.

Of course, the compensation would only be paid if it could be proven that the accident was caused by a lack of safety measures. Fortunately, the situation appeared to support that claim, so there shouldn’t have been any issues.

However, when Beomjin visited the hospital after hearing that Jung Mansu had regained consciousness, he overheard something unexpected.

“Someone pushed me. I’m sure of it... someone...”

“Don’t say things like that. You’re mistaken. If there had been a safety net, you wouldn’t have been hurt like this!”

It was only natural for his wife to respond this way. With her husband possibly unable to work for years and their debts looming over them, she desperately needed the compensation. Whether someone had tried to kill her husband or accidentally pushed him, she had decided it had to be ruled a safety incident.

But the company didn’t share that view. If someone had pushed Jung Mansu, the compensation claim would be nullified. Investigating that possibility was why Beomjin had come here.

His role was to blend in among the workers, observe the situation, investigate any grudges or conflicts, and gauge if there were disputes involving money or power. At the same time, he needed to gain the workers’ trust and subtly influence them to put pressure on the site management.

...And then Yoon Junyoung had appeared.

“Mr. Kim.”

Lost in thought as he stared at the roof of the office building, Beomjin turned his head. Yeongbok, his forehead slick with sweat, approached with a frown.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone yesterday? Did you go to bed early?”

Ah.

Pressing his lips together, Beomjin ran a hand over his face. He hadn’t thought about it. He must have dropped his phone somewhere. The last thing he remembered was making a call and then seeing Junyoung collapsed at the crosswalk. He’d immediately run to her, forgetting everything else. He hadn’t thought about his phone since.

Meeting Junyoung again had somehow made him lose his composure.

With a bitter smile, he replied, “I think I lost it. Was something up?”

“Not really. Just thought we could grab some soju.”

Yeongbok was one of the few people close to Jung Mansu. With years of experience in the field, he had a reputation for being well-connected, even with the site supervisors, which made others wary of him. His strong personality and loud voice also contributed to his presence.

But up close, Yeongbok was a surprisingly sentimental person. He was the kind of man who would slow down to coo over a stray puppy on the street.

“When I was young, I lost a child. Seeing little ones always makes me feel something.”

That’s what he’d said when Beomjin once teased him lightly for his soft side. Though he lived alone now, Yeongbok had once had a wife and daughter, which might explain his close relationship with Jung Mansu.

“So, how’d you lose your phone? It didn’t look like much, anyway.”

“I don’t have money, so it wasn’t anything fancy. I should probably try to find it.”

Rubbing his chin, Beomjin feigned a yawn. Yeongbok leaned on the railing beside him.

“You said you’ve got a sick younger sister, right?”

At her calm, pointed question, the office manager clicked his tongue and lowered his gaze. The faint smell of alcohol still lingered on his breath. Junyoung couldn’t tell if the lightheadedness she felt was from the heat rising to her head or the fumes he was exuding.

“It’s getting dark, so let’s postpone the site inspection until tomorrow. That’s it for today.”

It might have been her imagination, but at the mention of "today," both Min-sook and the office manager seemed to let out simultaneous sighs of relief. Pretending not to notice, Junyoung closed her files and stood up. For a moment, a wave of dizziness hit her, and she steadied herself by gripping the sofa. Thankfully, neither of them noticed, preoccupied as they were with organizing their materials.

After taking a deep breath, she turned to Min-sook.

“Oh, Ms. Min-sook.”

“Yes?”

“There’s someone without a résumé. Didn’t all the files come from the employment office? Or is there another folder where they’re kept?”

“Excuse me? No, we received all the paperwork. There’s nothing missing.”

Eyes wide with surprise, Min-sook looked at her, while the office manager muttered as he turned back around.

“With hundreds of workers on-site, how did you even find someone without a résumé?”

Junyoung’s sharp gaze made him quickly wave his hands defensively. “Just talking to myself. That’s all.”

“Do you happen to know who it is...?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll look into it myself.”

Waving off their concerns, Junyoung gathered her bag. The worker in question had reportedly come through the employment office, but the lack of a résumé seemed suspicious. And while others might not notice, Junyoung was already aware of something about Beomjin.

“Always sleeping, huh? Go call him over.”

That’s what Baekbal had said. What kind of worker would even dare sleep on-site? Such behavior would not only risk getting fired but also provoke the ire of colleagues.

That Beomjin was able to do so meant his coworkers either trusted him immensely—or feared him.

Or perhaps he had shown them something that made him untouchable.

And this was Kwon Beomjin, after all. Junyoung distinctly remembered him saying he had pretended to sleep because he couldn’t be bothered. But if he was that unwilling to work, why would he have taken a job in a place like this?

...Is he hiding? From something—or someone? Like, perhaps, the police?

Her already feverish and muddled thoughts grew more tangled. Shaking her head, Junyoung tried to clear her mind. If she hadn’t known what kind of man Beomjin’s father was, these thoughts wouldn’t even occur to her. Knowing too much, she thought bitterly, was more of a curse than a blessing.

“You seem to have trouble with your leg. Do you want a ride? Where are you staying?”

The office manager, catching on to Min-sook’s silent signals, asked in a fatigued tone. Junyoung smiled and shook her head.

“No, thank you. I’ll stop by the site for a quick look.”

“Didn’t we agree to postpone the inspection until tomorrow?”

“It’s not an inspection. I just want to take a quick look around.”

“It’s dangerous to wander in the dark, even with safety lights here and there. You could get hurt. Why not just wait until tomorrow...?”

“I’ll be going now.”

Cutting him off mid-grumble, Junyoung left the office. It wasn’t completely dark yet, but it would be soon.