Chapter 6
A Villain’s Pure Heart
Entering
After spending a sleepless night in her mother’s hospital room, Yeonwoo headed for Domyeongjae as soon as the first light of dawn broke.
‘I have to get into Domyeongjae, no matter what.’
No matter how much she told herself she had to give up, the thought that she must go to Domyeongjae kept returning like a refrain.
She couldn’t stay anywhere else. If it was Cha Yunseok, he could easily find out her mother’s home address. He was surrounded by people who were more than willing to take money in exchange for helping him with illegal deeds.
Thus, after hiding in her mother’s hospital room, she had returned to Domyeongjae before the day had even fully dawned.
Yeonwoo, who had arrived at Domyeongjae three hours ago, let the time slip away in front of the main gate. Because her desire to hide was so desperate, she couldn’t easily give up on this place; she wanted to meet Manager Mun and plead her case.
It wasn’t a matter of pride. It wasn’t the time to worry about saving face.
How long had she been standing there, waiting aimlessly? Suddenly, with a heavy metallic sound, the iron gate clicked open.
It felt like a sign, making Yeonwoo’s desire to stay here even more intense.
She took a deep breath and swallowed hard, as if steeling her resolve to handle any hardship or mistreatment she might face inside the main building, unlike before.
As she waited for a moment, she heard the sound of someone approaching from behind. Yeonwoo turned her body and instinctively began to greet them, but her voice trailed off as she raised her head.
“Manager Mun, hel—”
Yeonwoo’s lips parted slightly as she identified the person walking toward her, making only the faint sound of slippers brushing against the ground.
“I thought your business with Domyeongjae ended as of yesterday, but it seems I was mistaken.”
It wasn’t Manager Mun, whom she had been waiting for.
“Let’s hear it. Sit down.”
It was the man of Domyeongjae who felt like the highest mountain she had to climb: Seongheon.
Sitting across from Seongheon, Yeonwoo managed to exhale a breath she had been holding. It was a strangely tense moment. All the words she had ambitiously prepared seemed to vanish, leaving her mind a complete blank. Unable to start speaking, Yeonwoo only moistened her lips.
About a minute passed, but to Yeonwoo, it felt like a full hour.
Seongheon, who had been staring straight at Yeonwoo’s face without saying a word, pulled back his sleeve to check the time. Then, he spoke in an indifferent voice.
“I’d like to give you more time, but unfortunately, I don’t have much to spare today.”
“I’d like to hear your business.”
As Seongheon’s voice reached her ears, Yeonwoo squeezed her eyes shut before opening them again. To think she was in a position where she had to flip her stance and sit here begging, less than a day later.
Hesitating because the words simply wouldn’t come out, Yeonwoo thought of Cha Yunseok.
Ah. Right. Cha Yunseok.
Thinking of Cha Yunseok was remarkably effective. Everything else faded from view. With only her survival instinct remaining, she wondered what use pride was when it came to staying alive.
Yeonwoo straightened her back and spoke.
“On behalf of Shin Sunmi, who injured her leg in an accident while working, I, her daughter, would like to work here for a while. Until my mother successfully completes her rehabilitation treatment.”
There was no flicker of emotion in Seongheon’s dry gaze.
“I’m better at my job than I look. Truly, I can do anything. I’ll do any task you give me without complaint—absolutely anything. I brought my resume, hoping I might at least get an interview.”
“You don’t even have to pay me. Just please let me work. Please don’t let my mother be erased from Domyeongjae like this. I beg of you. I truly beg of you.”
Yeonwoo took the resume in a white envelope out of her bag and politely placed it on the table.
Yeonwoo looked at Seongheon after putting down the resume. His eyes, devoid of any emotion, felt somewhat cold, causing Yeonwoo to quickly avert her gaze while her hands trembled.
She wondered if her words would even reach a man who seemed so flawlessly strict—a man who looked like he wouldn’t bleed a drop even if pricked, whose very aura overwhelmed those around him.
Even as she made her plea, she thought it was hopeless. Was it because she recognized him as the master of Domyeongjae? She couldn’t help but feel withered and small, overwhelmed by the aura he exuded just by sitting there.
There wasn’t an impolite word or an unkind action, yet a type of chill she had never experienced before flowed from Seongheon. The fact that he would be cold-hearted was conveyed through his entire being, and Yeonwoo let out a long, resigned breath.
Seongheon was a much more difficult opponent than Manager Mun, who had drawn a sharp line.
When Seongheon, whose sitting posture remained unchanged, didn’t open his lips, Yeonwoo spoke again with emphasis.
“I’m shamelessly asking for this favor. I’m truly desperate.”
Silence fell after Yeonwoo’s voice, which carried a sense of grim determination.
Another minute passed, which felt like half a day. After staring at Yeonwoo for a long time as she sat with her eyes cast down, waiting for his judgment, Seongheon slightly lifted his fingertips.
“Then do so.”
“Ah…!”
Startled, Yeonwoo jerked her head up.
“Oh, so… can I really come to work?”
His face still held a chill that seemed unfitting for a man who had just given an affirmative answer. It was hard to believe he had granted someone’s request with such an expression, making her wonder if she had misheard because she was so nervous.
“Isn’t that why you came?”
Yeonwoo, at a loss for words due to the lackluster response, struggled before finally opening her lips.
“Thank you for granting my request. I will work hard.”
As Yeonwoo repeatedly bowed and spoke, Seongheon stood up. Straightening his jacket as he stepped away from the sofa, Seongheon looked at Yeonwoo.
“Prove it yourself—your claim that you’ll do whatever is asked. I don’t like it when people can’t take responsibility for the words they’ve uttered.”
Without looking back, Seongheon left the room.
As the door closed, Yeonwoo slumped her shoulders and leaned against the sofa. She had been so tense that even sitting upright had been difficult.
She thought he might mock her, asking where she had left the shame she’d packed away yesterday.
Even if he had, she felt she would have had nothing to say, but Seongheon had left without dwelling on yesterday’s events.
I don’t like it when people can’t take responsibility for the words they’ve uttered.
His last words seemed to have a bit of a sting, but wasn’t this a happy ending regardless? She would welcome any amount of reprimand or warning if it ended like this.
“Did it… really happen…?”
With a face drained of strength, Yeonwoo just stared up at the ceiling. To think she had entered Domyeongjae, a place she thought was hopeless. it felt like a dream, and it felt like a lie.
A moment later, when Manager Mun Ok-rye entered, Yeonwoo sat up straight again.
Manager Mun Ok-rye was the longest-serving employee at Domyeongjae, having worked there for 59 years. She had lost her father at the tender age of seventeen and entered Domyeongjae through an introduction from an uncle she knew. With as many as eight siblings to support, Manager Mun Ok-rye was essentially the head of the household responsible for their livelihood.
In those days, Domyeongjae was a veritable battlefield where guests flooded in day after day. Seventeen-year-old Mun Ok-rye spent the entire day pounding laundry. By the time she finished washing clothes in cold water with her bloody palms wrapped in cloth—palms that never had time to heal—the sun had set, and dawn would break again almost as soon as she collapsed into sleep.
While living and eating at Domyeongjae, she sent every bit of money in her yellow pay envelopes to her family.
In the meantime, she grew older, missed the age for marriage, and remained as the longest-serving employee buried within Domyeongjae. Now, at seventy-six, all Manager Mun Ok-rye had left was Domyeongjae.
To Manager Mun, Domyeongjae was her life and her very name. She had worked until her bones felt like they were breaking, and the years it took to go from a silver badge to a gold badge were the entirety of Mun Ok-rye’s memories.
The place where Seongheon had finished his morning. Manager Mun and Yeonwoo sat down again. An uncomfortable air flowed between Yeonwoo, who seemed to have thin and soft rings of life, and Manager Mun, who seemed to have thick and hardened ones.
To Manager Mun, the current situation was like an anomaly.
“This is the book that outlines the rules of our Domyeongjae, so take it and master it perfectly.”
Manager Mun handed a thick book to Yeonwoo. Yeonwoo’s eyes widened at the volume, which was thicker than most major textbooks. Manager Mun continued, glancing at her through her small glasses.
“Whatever the laws of the world may be, that’s got nothing to do with us, so know that. This place has its own laws. Don’t even think about working comfortably just because you’ve come in to help with someone else’s household.”
“Yes. I understand. I will study it well.”
“We’ll provide you with a uniform, so wear that. Your name tag will be out in a week, so keep that in mind.”
“Yes.”
“If you’re thinking of commuting like you did on the outside, you can’t work here. If you’re going to whine about holidays or working hours, leave right now.”
“No, ma’am. I will follow the rules well.”
Yeonwoo answered readily, but Manager Mun still looked at her with distrustful eyes. She looked so fragile, sitting there like a flower that would sway in the wind—what on earth did she think she was going to do?
“During the day, it’s mostly the older folks who work. So you’ll have to do night work. We don’t have things like three-shifts or two-shifts here. If there’s work to be done even at three in the morning, you absolutely have to do it!”
“Yes. I understand.”
“And one more thing. When you first enter Domyeongjae, there are no vacations until I give permission. That means you can’t go outside at all.”
“Yes! That’s great!”
When Yeonwoo’s complexion suddenly brightened and her voice rose, Manager Mun put strength into her words.
“What’s so great? I said you can’t take a single step out! You should think of it as dying here in Domyeongjae. Meeting friends, meeting a boyfriend—you can’t do any of that.”
“Yes. I have no friends and no boyfriend. It’s fine. I like it.”
“…Just what kind of life have you been living, anyway?”
Manager Mun muttered, scanning Yeonwoo from head to toe.
The biggest reason young people couldn’t endure Domyeongjae and quit was the initial ban on outings and staying overnight elsewhere. Even after they were hired, young people would often run away before long, saying it was too hard.
Usually, when told they couldn’t go out or stay overnight, young people would get a sickly expression, but for some reason, Yeonwoo’s face grew more vibrant.
Hah. How absurd.
Manager Mun, lost for words at Yeonwoo’s flushed face, stood up. Yeonwoo followed suit and bowed, expressing her gratitude.
“Thank you for accepting me. I will work hard.”
“Even if you work until your body breaks, you won’t even reach your mother’s big toe, but go ahead, try it.”
She wondered how many days she would last. The work would be hard, and above all, Domyeongjae was a place where it was difficult to work without a sense of duty.
“Um, my resume…”
When Yeonwoo picked up the resume lying on the table, Manager Mun stared at it and then pulled the corners of her mouth down.
“Forget it. What use is all that when the Vice President says he’ll hire you? Take it and use it as kindling or something.”
“Call your mother. Tell her you can’t get out for a while, so she shouldn’t look for you.”
“Yes! I understand!”
“Yes! Manager!”
As Yeonwoo even offered a faint smile, Manager Mun turned away with a look of horror, as if she were fed up.
Fine. Let’s see how long that smiling face lasts.
I’ll show you the strict and spicy taste of Domyeongjae.
