Jin-woo sat rigidly on the edge of the hospital bed, his orange-gold eyes tracking each movement in the room. The pristine white walls, polished floors, and expensive equipment felt alien after a lifetime of back-alley first aid and home remedies. The stench of antiseptic burned his nostrils, clinical and cold.
One hour since the alley. One hour since his world had been upended with a single sentence.
Your grandfather is the Chairman of Cheonha Group.
The words still made no sense. People like him didn't have grandfathers who ran corporations. People like him didn't have families at all.
The doctor, a nervous man who kept glancing at the colonel, finished cleaning the knife wound on Jin-woo's arm.
"You'll need stitches," he said. "The cut is deep but clean."
Jin-woo nodded once. He'd had worse. Much worse.
Colonel Shin stood by the door, his posture perfect, eyes vigilant. Outside, his men formed a perimeter in the hallway, keeping curious hospital staff at bay. The entire floor had been cleared upon their arrival, patients relocated, staff reassigned.
Jin-woo had never seen such power exercised so casually.
"This isn't a normal hospital visit," Jin-woo said finally.
The colonel's lips twitched in what might have been amusement. "The Chairman insisted on the best care."
"In the president's suite?"
"He owns the hospital."
Of course he did. Jin-woo closed his eyes briefly as the doctor began suturing his arm. The needle's pinch was nothing compared to the disorientation flooding through him.
"Why now?" he asked, eyes still closed. "Why after twenty-six years?"
The colonel was silent for so long that Jin-woo opened his eyes again. The older man's face had hardened.
"That's not my story to tell," he finally said. "The Chairman will explain everything when you meet him."
Jin-woo looked down at his hands, calloused, scarred, the hands of a street fighter and day laborer. They seemed absurdly out of place against the crisp white sheets of this luxury hospital bed.
"And if I don't want to meet him?"
The colonel's eyes met his directly. "Then you walk out that door, back to your life, and we never bother you again."
Jin-woo raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"
"Just like that."
They both knew he wouldn't. Curiosity alone would prevent it. And beyond that, what did he have to go back to? A crumbling apartment, empty pockets, and the promise of slow starvation?
"When do we leave?" Jin-woo asked.
Colonel Shin's lips curled upward as he stepped toward Jin-woo, stopping just short of the hospital bed. His amber-gold eyes locked with Jin-woo's own as one of his officers appeared in the doorway.
A silent nod passed between them, and the hallway beyond erupted with purposeful movement.
"Initiate Operation Plan A," came a crisp command from outside.
"Follow me," Hyeon-woo said, pivoting on his heel without waiting for a response.
Jin-woo followed Colonel Shin through pristine corridors that reeked of money and power. Hospital staff flattened against walls as they passed, eyes downcast. Two soldiers flanked them, moving with practiced precision, hands never straying far from concealed weapons.
This wasn't protection. This was an escort.
The journey through the hospital felt surreal. Jin-woo had spent his life avoiding places like this, too expensive, too many questions, too many records. Now he strode through one, surrounded by men who answered to someone who apparently answered to his grandfather.
His grandfather. The thought still didn't fit in his head.
They reached a service elevator guarded by another soldier who straightened immediately at their approach. Colonel Shin nodded once, and the man stepped aside, swiping a keycard.
"Where are we going?" Jin-woo asked as the doors closed.
"Helipad," the colonel replied, watching the floor numbers climb. "The Chairman's residence is six hours from here by air."
Jin-woo's stomach tightened. "Six hours?"
"The Republic of Daehan is across the sea. The Chairman returned there three days ago."
Jin-woo stared at the man. "Returned where?"
The colonel gave him an appraising look. "You don't know where Daehan is?"
"Should I?" The words came out sharper than intended.
"It's where you were born."
The elevator doors opened before Jin-woo could respond, revealing the hospital's roof. Wind whipped across the helipad where a sleek black helicopter waited, its rotors already turning. Emblazoned on its side was a stylized golden dragon, the Cheonha Group logo he'd seen towering over the city for years.
Jin-woo hesitated at the threshold. One step forward and there would be no turning back.
The colonel noticed his hesitation. "Second thoughts?"
Jin-woo squared his shoulders and stepped onto the roof. "No."
The wind buffeted him as they approached the helicopter, the downdraft from the rotors violent enough to make his eyes water. One of the soldiers opened the door, revealing a cabin that looked more like a luxury lounge than any helicopter Jin-woo had ever seen on television.
Inside, cream leather seats faced each other across polished wooden tables. A minibar gleamed in one corner. There were no windows, just large screens showing exterior camera feeds.
Jin-woo climbed in awkwardly, acutely aware of his dirty clothes and the street grime embedded in his skin. He sat stiffly, unsure where to put his hands.
The colonel and one soldier joined him. The door sealed with a pneumatic hiss, instantly dampening the rotor noise to a distant hum.
"Departure in thirty seconds," a voice announced from hidden speakers.
Jin-woo's fingers dug into the leather armrests as the helicopter lifted. His first time flying. Another first to add to the growing list.
"Six hours," he said, trying to mask his unease. "That's a long flight for a helicopter."
"This is no ordinary helicopter," the colonel replied. "Military-grade engines, extended fuel capacity, top speed of 350 kilometers per hour."
Jin-woo stared at the screen showing the rapidly shrinking hospital below. "And we're going to... Daehan?"
"The Republic of Daehan." The colonel's expression softened slightly. "I understand this is overwhelming."
Jin-woo almost laughed. Overwhelming didn't begin to cover it.
"We'll be crossing international waters," the colonel continued. "The Chairman has arranged all necessary clearances. We'll land at his private residence outside Shinhan Metropolitan City."
Jin-woo's head swam with unfamiliar names and places. "And who exactly is the Chairman? What's his name?"
"Cheonha Kang-dae. Your grandfather."
The name meant nothing to Jin-woo, yet it apparently meant everything to the world he was entering.
"And my father?"
A shadow crossed the colonel's face. "Cheonha Ji-hoon. He died twenty-six years ago."
Jin-woo absorbed this without visible reaction. How could he mourn someone he'd never known?
"And my mother?"
"Also deceased. Shortly after your birth."
Jin-woo nodded. He'd always assumed as much. The helicopter banked, and through the screens, he saw they were now over open water.
"The Chairman has been searching for you for twenty-six years," the colonel said, breaking the silence.
"Not hard enough," Jin-woo replied before he could stop himself.
The colonel didn't flinch. "I understand your bitterness. But there are... complications. Things you don't know."
"Then tell me."
"It's not my place."
Jin-woo looked away, watching the endless blue through the screens. "Six hours is a long time to sit in silence."
The colonel studied him for a moment, then reached for a panel on the wall. "Would you like something to eat? Drink?"
Jin-woo almost refused out of habit, never take what you can't repay, but hunger won out. When had he last eaten properly?
"Whatever you have," he said simply.
Within minutes, a meal appeared that made Jin-woo's eyes widen slightly, steak, vegetables, rice, all on fine china plates. His street instincts screamed to devour it before it could be taken away, but he forced himself to eat slowly, with dignity.
The colonel watched him with unreadable eyes as they flew toward a country Jin-woo had never heard of, toward a man who claimed to be his blood, toward a life he couldn't begin to imagine.