The Regressed Chaebol Grandson Finds It Hard to Forgive - Chapter 82

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 82. In Sokcho (2)

“If you’re going to spew filth, get out! Right now!!”

Han Ji-yun’s voice cracked like a whip, her face hardened into stone.
An old fool with nothing to show for his years.

The eyes fixed on her were murky and yellowed, as if filmed with greasy oil—a feverish red.

Han Ji-yun was a married woman with a grown son, for heaven’s sake.

Even from the lease signing, the old man had seemed off.

But lately he’d been coming to the Flower Shop with suspicious frequency.

She couldn’t ignore him—he was the landlord—so she’d tolerated his nonsense: asking her to make coffee, inquiring if she needed anything, suggesting they have a drink sometime.

She’d even endured his innuendos, no matter how transparent they were.

But today he’d crossed a line.

He’d shown up reeking of alcohol, his intentions laid bare and brazen.

The old man made no attempt to hide the hunger in his gaze, his words dripping with disrespect.

Her husband was in Busan on business—he wouldn’t return until tomorrow at the earliest.

Han Ji-yun’s fear spiked. The Flower Shop sat on an isolated alley—there was nowhere to run.

Yet she couldn’t simply stand there and let it happen.

She’d started the flower shop to contribute to the household finances.

The old man knew that. He was deliberately using her desperation against her.

“Get out? This is my building! If anyone should get out, it’s you!!”

The old man’s eyes blazed with fury.
He was causing a scene in a shop during business hours.

‘He’s gone insane.’

The landlord’s gaze burned into her like a malignant fever.
Han Ji-yun flinched, stepping back one pace.

“Please… leave. I’m calling the police.”
“Heh heh. Go ahead. Do you know who I am? In Sokcho, if people don’t know Kang Deuk-su, they must be spies!”

The old man didn’t waver at her threat. Instead, he advanced, his voice growing louder.

The atmosphere had shifted. Something was genuinely wrong now.
This was dangerous.

Kang Deuk-su was aging, yes, but his frame was imposing—backed by wealth and influence, his bearing was formidable.

He was a pillar of the local establishment.

Even if police arrived, it would likely be swept under the rug.

Tremor.

Pressed into a corner, Han Ji-yun trembled as she faced the bulk of the old man.

“Hehehehe……”

Kang Deuk-su’s lined mouth twisted into a sinister smile.

His demeanor made clear this was a well-worn habit.

Han Ji-yun was trapped like a bird in a cage.

To Kang Deuk-su, steeped in lust, she was merely prey without defenses.

Then, at that moment.

Ding-a-ling.

And then.

“Tae… ung?!”

The young man who’d just stepped through the door was the shop owner’s son—and Kang Deuk-su found himself at a loss for what to do.

“Tae-ung… oh, my.”

Han Ji-yun, released from her corner, burst into tears at the sight of her son.

Her terror transformed into relief.

‘Who… who is this kid?’

Kang Deuk-su’s eyes darted nervously.

A tenant’s son—he’d never seen him before.

Looking at the young man, Kang Deuk-su seemed to shrink.

Among his peers, Kang Deuk-su cut a substantial figure.

But the tenant’s son before him was tall enough that Kang Deuk-su had to tilt his head upward.

The young man’s eyes burned with a sharp, piercing intensity.

No—wait. Kang Deuk-su was in his mid-seventies himself.

His daughter was his daughter, but the missus had captivated him from the moment of their first lease negotiation.

Skin like alabaster, a gentle manner of speech.
A fragile frame that stirred his protective instincts, coupled with an air of virtue.

In this backwater town, such beauty was rare indeed.

His fierce wife kept both eyes wide open, watching him like a hawk—he couldn’t openly gawk without consequence.

Kang Deuk-su had been a civil servant in Sokcho during his younger years.

As a local, he’d cultivated networks and dabbled in various businesses, accepting bribes throughout.

It was all this that had allowed him to accumulate wealth beyond what a mere bureaucrat could dream of.

Sokcho developed more slowly than Gangneung, which meant fewer complications.

It began when a North Korean commando infiltration incident devastated Sokcho’s economy overnight.

He’d acquired a building from an acquaintance with whom he had connections.

Exploiting the man’s financial desperation, Kang Deuk-su had essentially stolen it—the deed now bore his name.

He’d promised to transfer ownership into his name and secure low-interest government loans as a formality.

Rent would double, easily.

The tenant, struggling to move flowers in this location, was clearly desperate for money.

In his five-story building, nearly every tenant bowed their head before the landlord.

Kang Deuk-su, fearless in Sokcho, had never imagined resistance.

Yet here he stood, trembling before the tenant’s son.

“Mom.”

The young man strode forward, positioning himself between the two of them.

Han Ji-yun felt an immense wave of relief wash over her.

Her son had grown so much without her noticing.

Watching his back, she felt anew how little she’d done for him.

But it only cost her more in medicine.

She was merely a frail middle-aged woman from the city—born and raised in Seoul, she’d never learned to do anything practical.

Her constitution was too weak. She’d borne one son and lived quietly at home.

With help from an acquaintance, she’d managed to open the flower shop.

The location wasn’t ideal for foot traffic, so she’d focused on online delivery.

With some skill in arranging, she’d built a small clientele and earned a modest income.

But supporting her son stretched her to her limits.

She couldn’t provide the financial support he truly needed.

Her husband’s business partner had expanded dramatically.

Loans kept coming in under her husband’s name.

Her son, left in Seoul, had gained admission to a prestigious private high school through the Outcast Selection.

She worried constantly, but there was nothing a mother could do.

She couldn’t even secure him proper lodgings.

All she managed was sending rent for a shabby room and a modest allowance.

Every won came from the flower shop.

Knowing this, the old man had made his move—bullying her, reaching out with filthy hands.

Short-statured, his belly protruding like a toad’s, looking every bit the typical corrupt former bureaucrat.

She’d managed to endure because she had a few acquaintances in the area.

“Sob… oh, sob.”

All the grief she’d been holding back came pouring out at once.

Han Ji-yun couldn’t stop her tears.

Her son stood with a steady gaze that compensated for her husband’s absence.

She tried to stop the tears, but they wouldn’t obey.

She was supposed to protect her son, but now she was just a powerless woman.

“You! What are you!”

Kang Deuk-su, agitated, pointed a trembling finger at Ha Tae-ung and spoke in a tone of accusation.

The boy looked too young to be threatening—Kang Deuk-su underestimated him.

For years, bluster had never cost Kang Deuk-su anything.

His plan was to shout them down, seize the advantage, then slink away.

But the tenant’s son merely stared at him with dark, penetrating eyes.

“Who’s this senile old geezer talking?”
“What? Se, senile… gee, geezer??”

When the boy dismissed him as a doddering old fool, Kang Deuk-su’s eyes blazed with rage.

He was a somebody in Sokcho—anyone would tell you that.

He met with the mayor now and then; they were well-connected.

How dare this kid!”

“I mean, if you go around doing things like that, you’re either senile or insane. Should I call you sir or something?”

The boy spoke with reckless audacity.

His tone wasn’t respectful, nor was it casual—it was simply disrespectful.

“Se, senile? You! You damn punk, don’t you know who I am!!”

Kang Deuk-su, temperamental by nature, let out a bellow.

He’d been trying to leave with dignity, but his anger had boiled over—his true self emerged.

A few years younger and he’d have thrown a punch.
But his aging body refused to obey his rage.

“Who? Are you the chairman of Il-seong Group or something?”
“Il, Il-seong? You disrespectful brat! I’m Kang Deuk-su! Chairman of the Jung-ang-dong Merchants Association! Kang Deuk-su!!”

It was a minor association, but Kang Deuk-su wore the title with pride.

Even National Assembly members visited him during election season, bearing expensive gifts.

Beneath the bright laughter lay undercurrents of sorrow and rage.

Snap.

Ha Tae-ung’s laughter cut off as abruptly as it had begun—as though it had never happened.

Kang Deuk-su’s tyranny was ingrained in his bones.

This was his go-to move, and it worked on almost everyone with nothing.

He’d calculated that Han Ji-yun, desperate for survival, would step in to silence her son.

“Wh, what?”
“You heard me. Get out right now! Take your rotten corpse smell with you. Go on, get!!”

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