Dopamine Addiction - Chapter 4

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

3.
“The Grim Reaper’s operations are mostly classified. If the Black Operatives knew what was happening and where, do you think they’d sit back and take it?”
“I see.”
“But even with Director Kim hospitalized, you’ve gone ahead and assigned Liam to her? I naturally assumed the team leader would handle it. Isn’t that right, Team Leader?”
As he spoke, Yun Gyeong-ho directed his gaze toward Han Sang-jin.
“Huh? What?”
Han Sang-jin, who had been trying to slip away carefully, turned his head with an awkward laugh. Hui-ju called to him, her jaw clenched tight.
“Team Leader.”
“Yes? What is it, An?”
“We need to talk.”
“It’s a misunderstanding. Just sit down for a moment. Don’t look so frightened, all right?”
Han Sang-jin waved both hands frantically, sweat beading on his forehead. Just then, Hui-ju’s mobile phone chimed softly.
Hui-ju, her eyes still fixed on Han Sang-jin, quickly checked the message. Her head tilted slightly as she read.
“What is it?”
“Is something wrong?”
Han Sang-jin asked, shuffling backward step by step. Hui-ju forgot her anger from moments before and stared only at her phone’s screen.
“Mother asked me to stop by for a moment. That’s strange—she doesn’t usually do this. Is something actually wrong?”
“Don’t worry about it. If nothing’s urgent, just finish your morning shift and leave early today. Stop by the Family Home on your way and have lunch with your parents. They’ll be happy about it.”
“Yes.”
Hui-ju nodded, her expression uncertain. Han Sang-jin, as if remembering something, asked:
“What about Liam Cloph?”
“Target Elimination completed, sir. I was about to contact the London Metropolitan Police representative anyway. If word gets out about our government’s involvement, things could escalate.”
“Right. Who’s the contact at the Metropolitan Police? MacGregor?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Report on progress as it develops.”
“Yes.”
Hui-ju was heading back to her desk when she stopped. “Oh, by the way,” she said. Han Sang-jin gave her an encouraging look, inviting her to speak.
“Did you know Liam’s real name? He uses characters for plum tree and darkness, he said. His grandfather gave him that name.”
“His grandfather?”
Han Sang-jin’s brow furrowed.
“I understand his mother is of Korean descent. But his grandfather was born in Britain. I doubt he’d give his grandson a name in Chinese characters. Where did that rumor come from?”
“From him… ah.”
Hui-ju’s face twisted as she realized, belatedly, that Liam had deceived her. She ground her teeth together and walked back to her desk.
“This is why field operatives…”
***
Ding-dong.
The front door swung open before Hui-ju’s finger had even left the doorbell. Her father came rushing out with his arms spread wide.
“Welcome home, my daughter.”
“Dad.”
Hui-ju embraced her father lightly and stepped inside. The rich, toasted aroma of sesame oil filled the air. Her mother peeked out from the kitchen.
“Hui-ju’s home?”
Hui-ju, seeing the table laden with dishes, let out a small whistle.
“Why did you prepare so much? I said we’d keep it simple and eat out.”
“Home cooking is what you need. If you only eat out, you ruin your health. But why does your voice sound like that? Do you have a cold?”
“Yes. It’s been a few days, and it just won’t go away.”
“Have you been to the hospital?”
“A cold doesn’t warrant a hospital visit. Everything else is fine—it’s just the cough. I’ve been taking medicine.”
“See? This is what happens when you don’t eat properly.”
In her mother’s view, all illness stemmed from neglecting one’s meals. Whether it was a cold, stomach pain, or aching knees—the cause was always the same.
Sensing that the scolding was about to begin, Hui-ju quickly changed the subject.
“Oh, japchae! That’s my favorite.”
“Sit down. Everything’s ready.”
Her mother pressed freshly cooked rice firmly into a bowl. Even a servant wouldn’t have been treated with such generosity, but Hui-ju accepted it quietly. If she didn’t, the interrupted lecture would resume.
“Go ahead and eat. You must be hungry.”
“Thank you for the meal.”
Hui-ju picked up a handful of japchae and brought it to her mouth, muttering softly:
“Restaurant food never tastes like this.”
As if he’d been waiting for it, her father chimed in.
“Your mother may not be good at much, but she can certainly cook.”
“What do you mean, ‘may not be good at much’? What can’t I do?”
“No, that’s not what I meant… Look, the doenjang stew tastes wonderful today. Does it have crab in it? I think I taste—”
Her father trailed off, stirring the stew uncertainly.
“I taste crab, but I don’t see any.”
He peered into Hui-ju’s soup bowl, where two crabs jostled in the narrow confines.
“Didn’t you know Hui-ju likes crab? Look how thin she is. Would you really steal your own daughter’s food?”
“Who said I was stealing? I just said the broth tastes like crab.”
“Come now, let’s share. You take one, I’ll take one.”
As Hui-ju divided the crabs between them, both her parents immediately waved their hands in unison.
“You eat, you eat. We had some just a few days ago.”
“Please have it. I prefer the broth anyway. But what’s this all about? Is something wrong?”
“Ah, yes…”
Her mother, who had been picking crabmeat to place on Hui-ju’s rice, paused. Her face clouded for a moment before returning to its usual expression.
“Let’s eat first, then we’ll talk.”
“All right. I’ve told you not to keep serving me—you should eat too.”
“I am. Now eat your food.”
After the meal, the three sat together in the living room, swallowing a bitter silence.
Her father’s fingers worked constantly, as though he missed the cigarette he’d quit, while her mother stared vacantly at the stove that had long since gone cold.
Hui-ju, meanwhile, furrowed her brow as if she hadn’t heard a word. Her gaze shifted between her two parents.
“My… Biological Father?”
A thick silence settled once more, though it felt somehow less dense than before.
Her mother nudged her father’s ribs sharply. With a sigh of resignation, he nodded.
“It’s terminal cancer. By the sounds of it, he doesn’t have much time left. He wants to see your face one last time.”
“…”
“I’m not saying you must meet him. But we felt you should know. You wouldn’t want regrets later, would you?”
Hui-ju swallowed, her throat dry. Her lips moved as if to speak, then closed again. There was so much to say, yet she didn’t know where to begin.
“Hui-ju.”
Her mother took her hand and stroked the back of it tenderly.
“Don’t think about our feelings. Don’t worry about disappointing us. Think of yourself first. That’s all that matters to us. What do you want to do?”
“I…”
Her parents waited for her answer without pressing, their patience steady.
It had always been this way. Though they had raised the daughter of an old friend as their own, they had never once treated her differently from a biological child.
Hui-ju had never doubted their love for her.
Yet sometimes—very occasionally—she felt as though a hole had opened in her chest. A hollow space where cold wind whistled through.
—Assessment: biological parents passed away early; no siblings. Outwardly appears cheerful and dependable, but harbors a fundamental loneliness deep within that cannot be resolved. Colleagues find her unassuming and kind, but she is, in fact, quite cynical.
She didn’t know why those words came to mind just now. Had he seen through her at first glance? Been caught with her true nature exposed, the very thing she kept so carefully hidden?
Perhaps. But one thing was certain: Liam’s assessment was entirely accurate.
Would that hole be filled if she met her biological father?
“I’ll meet him.”
After long deliberation, Hui-ju nodded. The tail end of her father’s laugh—his response of “Good choice”—sounded strangely bitter.
Hui-ju spoke as if in self-defense.
“Not because I miss him. Not because I want to see him. Just because he’s dying soon, so…”
“I understand.”
Hui-ju turned back to her mother.
“So where is he? In the United States?”
***
5:55 a.m.
Yawning, Hui-ju picked up her laptop and stepped into the Consultation Room. She glanced at the clock and stepped back out.
She filled her tumbler with hot water and tore open a tea bag, dropping it in.
The clear water turned crimson. Only then did she check the packet—it was hibiscus.
“Of all colors, it had to be red.”
Hui-ju murmured absently, then shook her head and moved on. Between the cold and the sleepless night, she was exhausted.
Her mind had churned all night with thoughts of this man she was about to meet for the first time—her biological father.
“Let me focus on work first.”
She exhaled sharply and accessed the Link. The screen was black as she waited for the connection to establish, her mind still foggy.
The screen changed and Liam appeared, grinning widely. She hesitated for a moment at the sight of his smiling face, but then he raised his eyebrows lightly.
―Should we fire a technician, perhaps?
“Why would you fire someone who’s done nothing wrong? Don’t tell me the screen still isn’t displaying on your end?”
―Over there—ah, forgive me. You said your name was Sahara, yes? Both adoptive parents enjoy hiking, and you’re the second of three siblings, correct?
“Your memory is impressive.”
Liam crinkled his eyes and tapped his temple lightly with his index finger.
―One must remember details about people of interest. Wouldn’t you agree?
Interest? Hui-ju unconsciously furrowed her brow. Then she realized her face wasn’t visible to him and exhaled in relief.
Far from firing anyone, they should be giving out bonuses.
In that moment, Liam murmured softly:
―I’m becoming increasingly curious about what Sahara looks like.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————