The taxi stopped in front of a sushi restaurant.
Joe Yabuki stepped out. He pulled out his wallet and opened it. Empty.
He couldn't even pay the taxi fare.
The driver looked at him through the rearview mirror, eyes growing suspicious.
"Hey, kid—"
Just then, the restaurant door opened.
An old man in a chef's uniform stepped out.
The man looked at Joe, then at the taxi, and walked over to tap Joe's shoulder.
"Kid, something wrong?"
Joe turned around. "Uh, who are you?"
The old man raised an eyebrow. "Hwang Yang-jung. I'm with President Choi Tae-ho."
Joe nodded.
The driver spoke up. "Hey, what about my fare?"
Yang-jung noticed Joe's open, empty wallet. He pulled out his own wallet and paid the fare.
Joe wanted to stop him, but the words stuck in his throat.
'I really can't pay.'
The taxi driver muttered something under his breath and drove off.
Yang-jung turned and walked toward the shop. After a few steps, he noticed Joe still standing there and looked back. "What's wrong? You planning to stand out here the whole time?"
Joe coughed, slightly embarrassed. "I..."
Yang-jung cut him off and pushed open the door. "Come inside. It's cold out here."
Joe followed him in.
The shop was empty. Yang-jung went straight into the kitchen.
Joe hesitated at the doorway for a moment, then followed.
The only sound in the kitchen was the knife cutting through ingredients.
Yang-jung kept his head down, preparing sushi, saying nothing.
Joe watched for a while, then spoke up. "When is President Choi arriving?"
"There's one more person to wait for, so the meeting's been postponed." Yang-jung didn't look up. "You'll have to wait a bit."
Joe nodded and said nothing more.
The kitchen fell quiet again, only the sound of Yang-jung cutting ingredients.
After a while, Yang-jung pushed a plate of sushi toward Joe.
"Eat."
Joe wanted to refuse, but remembering he hadn't eaten all day, he accepted.
"Thank you."
He'd just picked up his chopsticks when his phone rang.
It was Gwang-mu.
Joe answered.
"Hey, kid, have you met President Choi yet?"
"The meeting was postponed."
Gwang-mu laughed. "Oh? Really? Ah, I forgot to tell you about that. My bad."
From his tone, it was clear he hadn't forgotten—it was intentional.
This was Gwang-mu's petty revenge for Joe beating him.
But Joe didn't mind.
'At least I'm getting free sushi out of it.'
He picked up a piece of sushi and put it in his mouth, then asked, "Who's the other person?"
"There should be two people."
"Maybe President Choi only wants to meet one, because that's what I was told."
"How do you know that?"
"Mr. Hwang Yang-jung told me."
Silence on the other end for a second.
Then Gwang-mu sucked in a sharp breath. "You're with Hwang Yang-jung?"
"Yeah."
"Listen, kid." Gwang-mu's voice became serious. "Be careful around him. Hwang Yang-jung is President Choi's right-hand man and part of Mr. Choi's elite knife corps. He's extremely dangerous, understand?"
Joe glanced at Yang-jung, who was cutting fish.
"Got it."
"Good. That's it then."
The call ended.
Joe set down his phone and continued eating.
But his hand trembled again, nearly dropping the chopsticks.
Yang-jung had been observing him.
From the moment Joe entered until now, his hands had shaken several times.
Yang-jung set down his knife and wiped his hands.
Joe finished the last piece of sushi and was about to say thanks when Yang-jung spoke.
"You should leave."
Joe froze. "What?"
"President Choi doesn't need a sick patient as a bodyguard."
Yang-jung's tone was flat, but his words were direct.
Joe fell silent.
He had indeed hidden his condition from Gwang-mu.
No sane employer would hire someone with Parkinsonism as a bodyguard.
Yang-jung looked at him, eyes cold.
Joe looked back at him without averting his gaze.
'I can't just give up like this.'
The two stared at each other, tension building.
Just then, the sound of a car engine came from outside.
Yang-jung turned and walked toward the door.
"President Choi is here."
He didn't pay Joe any more attention and pushed open the door.
Joe stood in place, hands clenched into fists.
Outside, a black sedan stopped in front of the shop.
The driver got out and opened the rear door.
Yang-jung stepped forward, and together with the driver, helped out an elderly man in a wheelchair.
That was President Choi Tae-ho.
His lower body was paralyzed, but he looked in good spirits.
The driver pushed the wheelchair while Yang-jung supported from the side. The three entered the shop together.
President Choi seemed to be in a good mood, smiling as he asked Yang-jung, "Yang-jung, is the fish fresh today?"
"Of course it's fresh, President."
"Good." President Choi smiled. "By the way, have the applicants arrived?"
"One came." Yang-jung paused. "But he's not suitable for the job."
President Choi raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why not?"
Yang-jung pushed open the kitchen door and pointed at Joe standing inside.
"He has Parkinsonism."
President Choi's smile vanished.
He looked at Joe, eyes narrowing slightly.
Joe looked back at him without speaking.
President Choi was silent for a moment, then said, "Joe Yabuki, right?"
"Yes, President."
"I've read your file." President Choi spoke slowly. "Former OPBF champion, came close to winning the WBC and WBA belts. Retired at 21."
Joe nodded.
President Choi asked again, "The reason for retirement—was it because of Parkinsonism?"
"Yes."
"You concealed this."
"Yes."
President Choi smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
"Kid, do you think I'd hire a bodyguard who could have an episode at any time?"
Joe took a deep breath.
"I can do this job well."
"Based on what?"
"Because I'm still standing here."
President Choi looked at him, eyes sharpening.
"Interesting."
He turned to Yang-jung. "Yang-jung, what do you think?"
Yang-jung's face was expressionless. "He might have ability, but his condition is a problem."
President Choi nodded and looked at Joe again.
"I'll give you a chance."
Joe's eyes brightened slightly.
President Choi continued, "But if you have any problems during work, I'll fire you immediately."
"I understand."
"Good." President Choi smiled. "Then let me tell you about the person you're to protect. There's a young girl who has learning the business from me.."
Joe nodded. "Ah."
President Choi smiled. "We're actually not related. But she's the only family I have.
Joe nodded again. "Yeah."
President Choi continued. "I worry a lot she may get herself hurt while going around alone. I was hoping to hire a good person to stay by her side and keep her safe, you know?"
"Yes."
President Choi smiled. "Good. Work starts at ten tomorrow. I will have someone text you with the address."
Joe bowed, then turned and walked toward the exit.
When he reached the door, Yang-jung called out to him.
"Yabuki."
Joe stopped and looked back at him.
Yang-jung looked at him, eyes cold.
"Don't disappoint the President."
Joe nodded and pushed open the door.
Yang-jung watched his retreating back, frowning.
'This kid...'
President Choi chuckled. "Yang-jung, you don't have faith in him?"
"President, his condition—"
"I know." President Choi cut him off. "But sometimes, it's precisely because they've lost something that people fight with everything they have left to hold onto what remains."
Yang-jung fell silent.
President Choi turned his wheelchair to look out the window.
"Besides, I'm pretty good at reading people. That kid has fire in his eyes."
Yang-jung lowered his head. "Yes, President."