Just Twilight-Chapter 70

"What kind of nonsense are you spouting?"

"How do you feel?"

Ignoring his growing agitation, Junyoung tilted her head slightly, lips curling in a faint smirk.

"Jung Mansu ‘failed,’ didn’t he?"

Yeongbok’s tightly clenched jaw trembled. For the first time, his dark eyes flickered with something other than impassivity.

Junyoung, gripping her fists, lifted her chin. Her voice came out clear and unwavering.

"If that accident hadn’t happened, Jung Mansu would have paid off his debts within a few years. It wouldn’t have been easy, but he would’ve made it past that hurdle. His family would have endured, relying on each other. They would’ve gotten through it together."

A deep furrow formed between Yeongbok’s brows, his eye twitching irregularly.

Junyoung pressed on.

"But instead, he was pushed off that scaffold. No one knows when he’ll be able to work again—or if he ever will. His family now has to carry a heavier burden than before. His wife, Lee Jiseon. His daughter, who plays the piano so well. How long do you think they can hold out?"

Yeongbok flinched as if her words were cutting into him. His face twisted, his breath coming out uneven.

Junyoung’s eyes widened slightly as a thought clicked.

"Was that what you wanted?"

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"What?"

His voice came out hoarse, strangled, as if someone had grabbed his throat.

Junyoung took a step closer, muttering under her breath.

"You couldn’t stand the idea of them surviving it together. Fighting through it as a family."

His eyes blazed, as if an explosion had gone off inside him.

Junyoung met that glare head-on and delivered the final blow.

"Because you couldn’t."

"Shut up!"

Yeongbok roared, face contorting, but he hadn’t broken—yet.

Junyoung stepped even closer, standing directly in front of him.

"Do you really think Jung Mansu doesn’t know who pushed him?"

His pupils dilated instantly.

Junyoung inhaled deeply, then exhaled in a slow, quiet smile.

"Foreman, you always smell nice. And when the wind blows, the scent gets stronger."

Yeongbok’s lips parted slightly, as if trying to grasp what she was implying.

Junyoung helpfully supplied the final piece.

"It was probably the same that day, too."

Something in Yeongbok snapped. His expression turned pitch black, and before she could react, his hand shot forward, grabbing her by the collar.

Junyoung gasped as she was yanked forward, coughing at the sudden pressure around her throat.

His face remained blank as his fingers dug into her skin.

"You don’t know anything. A pampered little girl like you doesn’t understand real hell."

"Your hell isn’t the only one that exists," she gritted out.

"I had my own."

Her hands clawed at his wrist, trying to pry him off, but he was immovable. Even when she scratched and pinched at his skin, he didn’t flinch.

His lips curled into a robotic smile.

"Money… Money is like sand. You think you’ve grabbed hold of it, but it slips through your fingers. These were good people. They worked themselves to death for their families. But the world never left them alone. They got sick, or they trusted the wrong person, and suddenly, they were drowning. There was no way out. The system is too cruel."

"Let… go…!"

Junyoung’s breathing grew labored, her face reddening. She struggled harder, but his grip remained firm.

Yeongbok’s voice rushed out like he was reciting something rehearsed.

"Can you imagine a life where your entire existence is just repaying an endless, meaningless debt? A life where you never escape that cycle? A family that can never break free? It’s despair. It’s not even a life anymore."

His eyelids lowered slightly as he murmured,

"Was it wrong to want to help them?"

Junyoung’s nails sank deep into his skin.

"Don’t spew that bullshit."

Her voice was raw, barely restrained.

Yeongbok scowled, glancing down at her.

She forced her lips open and rasped,

"You pushed them. There was no guarantee they wouldn’t die. What made you think you had that right? Are you God? Any one of them could have died!"

His face didn’t change.

"But they didn’t."

His voice was detached, emotionless.

"Kim Cheon-gyu got lucky. He was saved—something even God didn’t grant him. Mansu…"

A flicker of hesitation crossed his face before he muttered,

"He was unlucky. He should’ve just endured it."

Junyoung had been twisting, trying to step on his foot, but at that moment, she froze.

Yeongbok’s gaze locked onto her, sharp and knowing.

His hoarse voice dug into her like a blade.

"No, wait. It was you… Yoon Junyoung. You stirred things up. He was willing to endure it quietly, but you kept poking around. I saw you at the hospital."

She barely had time to process those words before he tightened his grip and shoved her backward.

Junyoung stumbled, her back slamming into the safety railing.

Her body tipped dangerously, the world tilting beneath her feet.

A scream ripped from her throat.

"W-Wait, Foreman! You can’t do this. This isn’t part of your belief system!"

Yeongbok didn’t react.

Junyoung’s heart pounded violently.

"Even if the police catch you, they might buy your twisted logic about wanting to ‘help’ people. But if you push me, that’s different. That’s murder."

Her voice shook as she gasped,

"If you do this, you won’t be a savior. You’ll just be a killer."

Yeongbok frowned slightly at the rapid-fire words spilling from Junyoung’s lips. Then, in a disturbingly calm voice, he murmured,

"If I silence you, maybe Mansu will change his mind too. Yeah, this is all for them in the end."

Wrong.

He wasn’t going to change his mind.

Realizing that, Junyoung grabbed onto his arm desperately, a breathless laugh escaping her lips.

"D-Do you really think I’m the only one who knows about this? Kwon Beomjin already knows everything!"

Yeongbok’s sparse eyebrows twitched. But instead of releasing her, he only tightened his grip, letting Junyoung’s last hope shatter.

His white hair, swaying in the wind, looked almost spectral—like a grim reaper about to deliver his judgment.

"I don’t know who that is, but I’ll deal with it when the time comes."

Shit.

Junyoung’s throat burned as she screamed,

"K-Kim! Not Beomjin—Kim! The Kim you know… Hurry up and help me already!"

Yeongbok hadn’t dismissed her bluff outright. That moment of doubt was enough.

Just as he turned to check behind him, a force crashed into his face.

The brutal impact sent him staggering. Before he could recover, his legs were swept out from under him, and he was slammed to the ground.

"Are you alright, Noona?"

"Why the hell are you here, Samdu?"

Gasping for air, Junyoung felt his arms wrap around her protectively.

In front of them, Beomjin sat atop Yeongbok’s back, pressing his arms behind him with unwavering force.

Dressed in a pitch-black suit, he looked like a shadow emerging from the darkness itself.

"You told me to go home, but after getting scolded by hyung today, I figured I should at least make sure you two met up safely. I ran into him near the office. Thank God I did."

"Call the police first."

"I already did on the way up. They’ll be here soon."

Junyoung exhaled deeply, her trembling fingers gripping Samdu’s sleeve.

"How did you get here so fast, Kim?"

Yeongbok let out a breath of defeat. He had struggled briefly, but now, realizing he couldn’t escape, his body went limp.

Beomjin spoke in his usual dry tone.

"I followed your advice—I approached the beauty with confidence."

The words echoed a past conversation, making Yeongbok’s grimace momentarily fade into something resembling amusement.

A hollow chuckle escaped his lips.

"Hah… That worked out well for you, then. Good for you."

Beomjin silently tightened his grip on Yeongbok’s wrists.

Junyoung, still trying to catch her breath, met his gaze with a relieved smile.

Yeongbok’s voice turned eerily vacant.

"You should understand, though. You had debts. A sick younger sister. You know what it’s like, don’t you? People drowning in that kind of hell—who would blame me for trying to help them?"

"I might have, if you weren’t so inefficient about it."

"What?"

Yeongbok frowned, not comprehending the response.

Beomjin leaned in slightly, pressing his knee harder into Yeongbok’s back. His voice was barely a whisper.

"I don’t have a sick younger sister. My last name isn’t Kim. I work at JBK Financial."

Yeongbok blinked dumbly.

Beomjin calmly delivered the final line.

"I don’t owe money. I lend it."

Silence.

Then, rage.

Yeongbok thrashed beneath him, veins popping at his temples as he spat,

"You disgusting bastards! You leeches sucking the blood of the weak! You parasites—!"

His screams echoed in the empty construction site.

Beomjin sighed, adjusting his hold.

"And yet, thanks to those ‘leeches,’ some people find breathing space. If you’re going to hate anyone, hate the ones who charge predatory interest. We’re the most ethical private lenders in the business, and all we get in return is insults. It’s a little disappointing."

"Shut up!"

Yeongbok howled, his body jerking violently.

"Because of you people, Cheon-gyu, Doochang, Seung-rae, Mansu—they all ended up like this! You ruined their lives!"

"No."

Beomjin’s voice turned impossibly quiet.

"You ruined their lives, Choi Yeongbok. Don’t pawn your guilt off on someone else. If you’re drowning in filth, don’t smear it on others just to make yourself feel cleaner."

The wailing sirens of approaching police cars pierced the night air.

Finally coming back to herself, Junyoung reached for her back pocket and pulled out her phone.

The call with Beomjin was still active.

She pressed End Recording.

A long sigh escaped her lips.

The wind shifted, carrying away the scent that had lingered for so long.