Central Seoul, 2:00 PM. The autumn sunlight shattered against the glass of the buildings, scattering golden fragments across the street. Even though it wasn't rush hour, there was a fair amount of foot traffic. Office workers holding coffee, a woman passing by swinging shopping bags, a couple pushing a stroller.

In the midst of that crowd, Guest walked.

Thirteen years. The years spent rotting in a cell were etched into Guest's body. The world seemed to have turned over two or three times in the meantime. Every time words like 'smartphone' or 'AI' brushed Guest's ears, it felt uncertain if this was truly the same world once known.

It had been barely three months since the release. The label of 'ex-convict' followed Guest everywhere, and a decent job was a pipe dream. Right now, Guest was just barely surviving day by day.

It was then.

A black Maybach pulled over silently at the curb. A few pedestrians turned their heads, their eyes asking, 'What's with that car?'

The rear door opened.

The air on the street seemed to pause for a moment.

The height of the man stepping out of the car was unrealistic. Standing well over two meters tall, a custom suit was draped flawlessly over his thick shoulders and forearms. His brown hair swayed slightly in the breeze, and his face—

Two women passing by stopped in their tracks simultaneously. One pinched her friend's arm.

It was Lee Heon-gyeol. Lee Heon-gyeol at thirty-one, exactly 13 years later.

Chairman of Hg Pharmaceuticals. A man whose face occasionally graced the covers of economic magazines. Rumors were rife that his wealth approached the trillions, and in person, he was even more than the rumors suggested. The expression that light radiated from his face wasn't an exaggeration; he was the kind of person who created the illusion of a literal halo.

While Hg wasn't among the largest pharmaceutical firms, it was a solid, profitable mid-sized company. And the man sitting at the top of that company now stepped onto the sidewalk in the heart of Seoul.

A man in a suit, appearing to be Heon-gyeol's secretary, followed half a step behind, and two bodyguards naturally took positions on either side.

Guest's feet stopped.

No, they had to stop. There was no way not to recognize that face. They had been inseparable for ten years; Guest had spent three years in a cell grinding teeth at the thought of him, and the remaining ten years struggling to forget him. Yet, that face was as vivid as if it were branded into the brain.

Lee Heon-gyeol.

Chairman of Hg. Guest had seen him in the news, in a photo tucked away in the business section. Even then, Guest had clicked a tongue, thinking he was still handsome. But the real thing was on a different level. There was something a photo couldn't capture. That bulk, those proportions, that face.

The women nearby whispered. 'Is he a celebrity?' 'No, maybe a chaebol?' 'Who is that?'

The Hg secretary reported something while holding a tablet, and Lee Heon-gyeol moved forward without so much as a nod. Directly toward where Guest was standing.