The dining hall of the Seongbuk-dong estate was designed to look like the annex of a European royal palace. A thirty-foot mahogany table stretched across a floor of polished marble, illuminated by a glittering crystal chandelier that cast sharp, prismatic light across silver serving platters and delicate bone china. In Ji-won’s previous life, this table had been a graveyard of empty chairs. He remembered sitting at the far corner in a faded hoodie, eating lukewarm takeout in the dark while the house staff moved silently around him like ghosts. Back then, dinner was a non-event. The room had been too large, the ceiling too high, and the silence so thick it felt physical. Tonight, however, the room was a war zone of domestic drama. At the head of the table sat Chairman Kang Sun-woo, wearing a dark velvet smoking jacket and looking every bit the feared titan of Korean logistics. He held his gold-rimmed reading glasses in one hand, staring down at a silver bowl of steaming ginseng soup with an expression of profound, tragic betrayal. "Darling," the Chairman began, his deep, booming voice echoing off the high ceilings, "is it truly necessary for the chief executive of Kang Shipping to consume boiled roots while the boys are being served grilled A5 Wagyu ribeye?" Mrs. Kang didn't even look up from her delicate porcelain tea cup. She sat at the opposite end of the table, looking like a queen presiding over a court martial in a tailored silk blouse. "Your blood pressure reading at the Incheon terminal was 138 over 88, Sun-woo," she said calmly, taking a slow, elegant sip of her Earl Grey tea. "You will eat the ginseng root, you will swallow the garlic extract, and if I hear another complaint about your cholesterol-restricted diet, I will have the head chef prepare steam-cooked kale for the remainder of the month." Chairman Kang’s shoulders visibly slumped. He looked down at the pale, limp ginseng root floating in his bowl, then cast a desperate, pleading look toward his eldest son. "Min-jun. As the President of the primary corporate board, do you not find this dietary intervention somewhat draconian?" Min-jun, who was currently cutting his steak into precise, uniform three-centimeter cubes, didn't flinch. "I am bound by corporate governance, Father, but domestic governance falls entirely under Mother’s jurisdiction. I cannot risk a procedural veto." "Coward," the Chairman muttered under his breath, picking up his spoon with utter, soul-crushing resignation. Across the table, Do-hyun was practically vibrating with silent, breathless laughter, leaning his elbow on the table to whisper to Ji-won. "Look at him! The man who once shut down a strike at the Busan docks with a single phone call is currently defeated by a vegetable! This is history in the making!" "Do-hyun," Mrs. Kang’s voice sliced across the room with terrifying precision. "Elbows off the table. And stop filling your brother's plate with fried garlic chips. He needs lean proteins, not grease." Do-hyun instantly snapped straight up in his chair, his hands flying into his lap like a schoolboy caught passing notes. "Yes, Mother! Immediately, Mother!" Ji-won sat between Do-hyun and Ji-ho, staring down at his plate. It was piled high with tender cuts of Wagyu beef, steamed vegetables, and a small bowl of sweet rice soup that his mother had personally ordered the kitchen staff to prepare for him. The warmth radiating from the food was real, but the atmosphere was surreal. For the last three days, Ji-won had expected the sky to fall. He had prepared himself for Lu Sheng's retribution, for emergency corporate meetings, for the crushing weight of their past debts. Instead, his mother had effectively taken over the estate like an invading army. She had restructured the household security, ordered a complete audit of Min-jun’s personal bodyguards, restricted her husband’s diet, and insisted that all six of them sit down for dinner at precisely seven o'clock every single evening. "Ji-won-ah," Mrs. Kang’s voice softened instantly as she turned her gaze toward the youngest. The icy edge in her tone evaporated, replaced by a quiet, attentive warmth that made Ji-won’s chest swell with a strange, sweet ache. "How are your university preparations coming along? Min-jun mentioned your economics professor released the preliminary syllabus for the autumn semester." "Ah... yes, Mother," Ji-won said quickly, setting his chopsticks down respectfully. "I reviewed the reading list this afternoon. It’s mostly advanced macroeconomic models and institutional corporate law." "If any of those academic frauds give you a grade lower than an A-plus," Chairman Kang grunted over his ginseng soup, suddenly trying to assert his parental authority, "let me know. I will cut the university's library funding by fifty percent before the midterm exams." "Sun-woo," Mrs. Kang scolded, shooting her husband a sharp glare. "Do not teach the boy to use corporate extortion to pass introductory economics. He is far too intelligent for your brute-force methods." "I was merely offering an institutional safeguard!" the Chairman protested meekly, taking a cautious bite of his root. Ji-ho adjusted his glasses, clearing his throat smoothly. "Statistically speaking, Ji-won’s academic performance in quantitative analysis falls within the upper second percentile of his cohort. External institutional pressure from Father would only introduce confounding variables into his academic record." "Thank you, Ji-ho," Ji-won murmured with a small, genuine smile. "I think I can handle the classes on my own." Underneath the heavy linen tablecloth, Ji-won’s phone vibrated twice. He slid his hand into his lap, keeping his movements subtle as he glanced down at the glowing screen hidden beneath his napkin. **[Maui Survivors Club (and the Turtle)]** **Leo:** *JI-WON! Maya just dropped her entire coffee into her laptop in the library! Send help or memes immediately!* **Maya:** *It was a hazelnut latte and it was NOT my fault, the table was structurally unstable! Also, Leo is lying, my laptop is fine, I dried it with a paper towel.* **Leo:** *IT WAS SMOKING MAYA. IT WAS LITERALLY GIVING A DISTRESS SIGNAL.* A tiny, breathless giggle slipped past Ji-won’s lips before he could stop himself. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand, trying to turn it into a polite cough, but he wasn't fast enough. Five pairs of eyes instantly locked onto him. Min-jun’s fork paused mid-air. Do-hyun tilted his head like a curious dog. Ji-ho’s eyes narrowed behind his round lenses, while Mrs. Kang set her tea cup down with a soft, deliberate *clink*. "What is so funny on your phone, Ji-won-ah?" Do-hyun asked, leaning over with an unholy level of nosy curiosity. "Is it a video? Is it a meme? Show your favorite brother!" "It's nothing!" Ji-won said quickly, turning the phone face down on his knee, his cheeks flushing a bright, rosy pink. "Just... some classmates from Maui." "Classmates?" Chairman Kang repeated, looking up from his bowl with a sudden, intense frown. "Which family? The Lee family from Hanwha? The Choi group?" "They aren't corporate heirs, Sun-woo," Mrs. Kang cut in smoothly, though her sharp eyes remained fixed on Ji-won’s blush with deep, motherly fascination. "They are the young Americans Ji-won met at the resort. The ones who sent those absurd, bulletproof luggage sets to California on Do-hyun’s corporate account." Min-jun’s dark eyes narrowed slightly. "Are they contacting you frequently, Ji-won? Have you verified their digital security protocols? I can have our IT division encrypt your personal device to ensure external networks cannot intercept your chat logs." "Min-jun," Ji-won pleaded, his voice small as he looked at his eldest brother. "Please don't encrypt my group chat. They're just sending photos of a spilled coffee." Do-hyun gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "A group chat?! You have a group chat without us?! Ji-won-ah! I won a golden pineapple trophy with that boy! Why am I not in the group chat?!" "Because you would send three hundred stickers a minute and ruin his concentration," Ji-ho stated logically, taking a slow bite of his salad. "The baseline storage capacity of Ji-won’s device cannot withstand your emotional expressionism." "I am an artist, Ji-ho! My stickers carry profound narrative depth!" Do-hyun argued, turning back to Ji-won with wide, pouting eyes. "Ji-wonnie... put me in the group chat. I will be good! I won't even use the sea turtle stickers!" Ji-won looked around the massive, magnificent dining hall. To his left, his father was meekly swallowing a spoonful of bitter ginseng under the watchful eye of his terrifying mother. To his right, Do-hyun was begging to be added to an American college group chat, while Ji-ho and Min-jun debated the structural security of his mobile phone. And in his lap, his phone kept buzzing with lighthearted text messages from two friends thousands of miles away across the ocean. In his first life, Ji-won had died in a cold, silent room, believing that he was invisible to the world. He had believed that the Kang name was a curse, a cold brand that guaranteed a lifetime of loneliness and isolation. He picked up his chopsticks, taking a bite of the warm Wagyu beef his mother had given him. The flavor was rich, sweet, and comforting. The shadow of Lu Sheng was still out there, lurking in the high-rise towers of Seoul, waiting for the right moment to strike. The corporate wars were far from over, and the danger was very real. But as Ji-won looked at his chaotic, overprotective, utterly absurd family sitting around the bright dining table, he felt an unshakable warmth settling deep within his bones. He wasn't that lonely, invisible boy anymore. He had a family that would fight the world for him, friends who made him laugh until his cheeks hurt, and a voice of his own that he was no longer afraid to use. "Okay, Do-hyun Hyung," Ji-won smiled softly, his eyes sparkling under the crystal chandelier. "I'll add you to the group chat. But if you send one turtle sticker... I'm kicking you out." Do-hyun cheered loudly, Chairman Kang let out a deep, rare chuckle, and for the first time in both of his lives, Ji-won felt completely, perfectly at home.

Chapter 26