Night had always belonged to Kang Jinseok.
For decades he had believed that the most important decisions in business were made when the world was asleep. Markets closed, competitors relaxed, executives returned home to their families.
But true empires did not sleep.
And the headquarters of KGI Group proved that belief every night.
The tower rose like a dark monument over the financial district of Seoul — glass walls reflecting the city lights below, the upper floors illuminated with a quiet intensity that suggested power rather than activity.
Most employees had long gone home.
But the lights on the executive floor were still on.
That was why Kang Jinseok had come.
The Visit
He did not announce himself.
He never did.
At his level of authority, announcements were unnecessary.
Security opened every door without question as he walked through the building.
Staff who remained that late lowered their heads respectfully.
But the deeper he went into the executive floors, the quieter the building became.
The silence was almost eerie.
Only one office still showed signs of activity.
The Vice Chairman's office.
His son's office.
Jinseok paused briefly outside the door.
The faint glow of multiple monitors reflected through the glass.
He stepped inside.
The Work
Kang Daehyun sat at the large desk in the center of the room.
Three monitors displayed different streams of information simultaneously.
Financial reports.
International market data.
Internal strategy briefings.
And something else.
Documents from Hanseong Holdings.
Jinseok noticed that immediately.
His son was reviewing two different corporate systems at once.
Not switching between them.
Running them simultaneously.
On the desk sat several open files, handwritten notes filling the margins in sharp, precise script.
Daehyun's focus was absolute.
He didn't even notice someone entering the room at first.
His eyes moved across the screens quickly.
Calculating.
Cross-referencing numbers.
Typing responses to executives in different time zones.
It took nearly a full minute before he finally sensed someone there.
He looked up.
For a brief moment surprise crossed his face.
"Father."
Jinseok stepped further inside the office.
"I didn't expect you here."
Daehyun leaned back slightly in his chair.
"Saturday night."
His voice sounded calm.
Matter-of-fact.
"Fewer interruptions."
That answer alone said something important.
Because Jinseok knew his son's schedule.
He knew something most people didn't.
Daehyun rarely appeared at the office during the day anymore.
Most executives assumed he worked remotely.
But Jinseok had quietly checked the security records.
His son worked here almost every night.
After midnight.
Until dawn.
Every night.
Watching
Jinseok sat across from the desk without asking permission.
For several minutes he simply watched.
Daehyun returned to work almost immediately.
No complaints.
No awkwardness.
Just quiet efficiency.
The young man's hands moved across the keyboard with practiced speed.
A phone call came through from Europe.
He handled it calmly.
Then a message from New York.
Another from Tokyo.
Three different conversations.
Three different negotiations.
All happening within minutes.
Jinseok had built a global empire through relentless discipline.
He recognized competence when he saw it.
His son was not merely competent.
He was frighteningly effective.
The lazy boy who once avoided responsibility had disappeared completely.
In his place sat a man running two global corporations at the same time.
Without hesitation.
Without visible struggle.
But something about it bothered Jinseok.
Because the efficiency was… too extreme.
Too controlled.
Too relentless.
The First Sign
Nearly an hour passed before Jinseok noticed the first clear sign.
Daehyun reached across the desk to retrieve a file.
As he stretched his arm forward, the sleeve of his shirt pulled slightly back.
Just enough.
Just long enough.
Jinseok saw it.
A dark bruise.
Large.
Deep.
Not the kind that came from bumping into furniture.
The kind that came from force.
Daehyun noticed his father's gaze immediately.
He pulled his sleeve down casually.
"Gym accident."
The explanation came instantly.
Too quickly.
Jinseok said nothing.
But his eyes moved slowly across the room.
That was when he noticed something else.
The untouched food tray sitting on the far table.
Cold.
Completely untouched.
Dinner.
Probably delivered hours earlier.
The Second Sign
"Have you eaten?" Jinseok asked.
Daehyun glanced at the tray.
"Oh."
He sounded almost surprised.
"I forgot."
He stood and walked toward it.
But halfway there he paused.
His posture shifted slightly.
A subtle stiffness in his ribs.
Another small movement most people would never notice.
But Jinseok did.
He had spent forty years reading people in boardrooms.
Pain was easy to recognize.
Daehyun continued walking normally after that.
As if nothing had happened.
He picked up the food container.
A few bites.
Then he returned to the desk.
Already reading another report.
The food remained mostly untouched.
The Realization
Jinseok leaned back in his chair slowly.
His eyes remained on his son.
Working.
Constantly working.
The building was silent.
Outside, the city slept.
But Daehyun kept going.
Another call.
Another report.
Another decision affecting billions.
And Jinseok finally understood something deeply unsettling.
His son wasn't working like this because he wanted power.
He wasn't working like this for ambition.
He wasn't working like this to impress anyone.
He was working like this because he had no choice.
Something in his life required this level of endurance.
Something had cornered him into it.
And whatever it was—
He was carrying it alone.
The Memory
For a moment Jinseok remembered a very different boy.
A much younger Daehyun.
Lazy.
Obese.
Carefree.
A child who treated life like a temporary game.
Whenever something became difficult, he walked away from it.
School.
Projects.
Responsibilities.
He treated everything like a free trial.
If the trial became inconvenient—
He quit.
That had always frustrated Jinseok.
His son had been born into unimaginable privilege.
Yet he lacked the discipline to carry it.
Then Sooah entered his life.
And slowly, things changed.
But Jinseok never expected this.
Never expected his son to become someone who pushed himself past human limits.
Who refused to stop even when injured.
Who worked nights without rest.
Who quietly carried two corporate empires without complaint.
The transformation was almost frightening.
The Truth
Jinseok finally stood.
Daehyun barely looked up.
"You're leaving already?"
"Yes."
Daehyun nodded once and returned to his screen.
That simple reaction confirmed something else.
He hadn't been trying to impress his father tonight.
He simply didn't care who was watching.
He would continue this routine regardless.
Jinseok walked toward the door.
But before leaving, he paused.
His voice remained calm.
"You should sleep occasionally."
Daehyun smiled faintly without looking up.
"I will."
A lie.
An obvious one.
Jinseok didn't argue.
Because he had already understood something important.
His son would never ask for help.
Not anymore.
The boy who once abandoned every challenge had vanished.
In his place stood a man who would rather break himself than admit he was drowning.
And as Kang Jinseok left the office, a quiet realization settled in his mind.
Something in his son's life had gone terribly wrong.
Something serious enough to transform a carefree boy into a man who worked through the night while bleeding beneath his sleeves.
But whatever that burden was—
Daehyun had already decided to carry it alone.