Several hours later, when dusk had finally thickened into the deep late evening, Ming You, holding his breath, kept his gaze fixed on the window and the main entrance of the apartment building where his coach lived. His body had grown stiff from prolonged stillness, but every muscle was tensed like a bowstring, ready for action. Time dragged on agonizingly slowly, but he was prepared to wait as long as necessary.
Finally, a familiar figure appeared in the rectangle of the illuminated doorway. Chang Wo stepped outside, and his emergence was so ordinary, so peaceful. Following the coach came his family: his daughter Chang Su Yeong, carefree with headphones in her ears, and his wife, carefully carrying a small child bundled in a warm onesie in an ergonomic baby carrier on her chest. They were laughing, exchanging some words, and this picture of familial idyll, bathed in the soft light of a streetlamp, seemed profoundly alien to Ming You. Gathered together, they unhurriedly headed towards a nearby parked orange sedan.
Ming You followed their every movement without blinking. He saw the car doors open, saw them settle inside, saw the interior light up for a moment and then go dark. The sedan smoothly pulled away from the curb, rolled off the sidewalk, and dissolved into the evening stream of traffic. Only then, having counted exactly sixty calm, measured seconds in his head, did Ming You turn the ignition key in his nondescript van. The muffled rumble of the engine broke the silence, and he, maintaining a safe distance, slipped into the traffic after the taillights of his target.
The drive took no more than fifteen minutes. They passed several quiet residential blocks, turned onto a busier street lined with shops and bright signs. Finally, the orange sedan slowed down and carefully parked near an alleyway, practically right next to a cozy, affordable family restaurant, from whose windows warm light poured. Ming You, without slowing down, drove a little further and turned into a dark side alley, which almost perfectly concealed his van from prying eyes. From here, through a narrow gap between buildings, he had an excellent view of both the restaurant and the stretch of sidewalk his victims would inevitably have to cross.
"A perfect spot," he stated coldly to himself, assessing the situation. "Here, on this deserted stretch between streetlights, there are no extra eyes, no surveillance cameras. I need to take them right here."
Turning off the engine, he pulled the key from the ignition. In the ensuing silence, only the distant urban hum could be heard. Ming You took out his phone, opened a maps app, pretending to study a route, but his attention was entirely fixed on the Chang Wo family, who were just getting out of their car. His thoughts worked with cold, flawless clarity.
"There are no more reliable options nearby. So, I need to act quickly and decisively — pull them all straight into the van before they have time to understand what's happening."
...
Meanwhile, the Chang Wo family had already entered the establishment. A low hum of voices, the clatter of dishes, and appetizing smells — of roasted sesame oil, garlic, and spicy doenjang — greeted them at the entrance. The restaurant wasn't the most expensive, but it was cozy and clean, with wooden tables and walls decorated with old photographs of Seoul.
"Where shall we sit?" asked Chang Wo's wife, looking around the hall.
"Let's sit by the window!" his daughter, Chang Su Yeong, pointed animatedly at a free table. She was still beaming with pride over her high score.
"Great, let's ask little Chang Mi too," the coach leaned towards his sleeping son, and his stern, tired face softened, becoming almost boyish. He carefully adjusted a corner of the blanket.
"He-he, I think he'd want to sit by the window too, right, little Mi?" she smiled, her eyes, as warm as honey, sliding tenderly over her husband's and daughter's faces.
"Oh, Chang Yeong, I hope you're not going to call him 'little Mi' all his life?" asked Chang Wo with a light, playful reproach, heading towards the chosen table. He took the baby carrier off his son and carefully placed it on a free chair next to himself.
"Of course I will! Just like 'little Su Yeong'!" laughed his wife, settling next to her husband. She took off her light spring jacket, and Chang Wo automatically accepted it to hang on the back of her chair.
"Mom, not here..." Chang Su Yeong blushed, glancing around the hall, but immediately calmed down — the usual family bustle reigned around them, and no one was paying them attention. She sat opposite her parents, placing her hands on the table.
"Ready to order?" a waiter, a young man with a neat haircut and a notepad in hand, approached them almost silently.
"Su Yeong, you choose," Chang Wo nodded to his daughter. "This is your celebration."
The girl assumed a serious expression and began studying the menu, her brows furrowing in a concentrated frown.
"Hmm... Let's... start with doenjang-jjigae, I really want it! And for the main... samgyeopsal for two, please! And kimchi-jjigae is a must. And... bibimbap for mom, she's on a diet. Dad, what about you?"
"Just a portion of smoked pork ribs for me," Chang Wo smiled. "And rice, of course."
"And some sannakji for the baby!" joked Chang Yeong, looking at her sleeping son. "So he grows up strong. Just kidding, just kidding. Please add japchae and a set of banchan for three."
The waiter nodded, quickly writing it down, and left.
"So, our champion," Chang Wo leaned on the table, looking at his daughter. "85 points in science — that's serious. Tell me, how did it go? Did anyone help?"
"Da-ad!" Chang Su Yeong exclaimed indignantly, but her eyes were laughing. "I studied it all myself! Especially about photosynthesis and cell structure. The teacher said I had the best work in the class."
"I never doubted it," Chang Yeong said proudly, pouring everyone barley tea from a carafe. "Our daughter takes after her brains. I wonder from whom?"
"Definitely from her mother," Chang Wo parried immediately, and a spark flashed in his eyes. "I had a permanent war with the sciences in school."
They laughed. For a moment, the heavy thoughts about problems at the school, about Ming You, about that sticky, dangerous shadow that had fallen over his work, receded, dissolved in the warm light of the restaurant and the happy faces of his loved ones.
"How's work?" asked Chang Yeong, changing the subject, but her voice became slightly more cautious. She knew how much her husband was troubled by the situation on the team. "You seem a bit brighter today."
Chang Wo sighed, taking a sip of tea.
"Yeah, it seems... there's been some progress. That problematic player I told you about... Ming You. He didn't show up for practice yesterday or today. And, it seems, he's accepted my decision to remove him from the team."
"That's good!" Chang Su Yeong said firmly. "Bullies have no place in sports! You did the right thing, Dad."
"It's not that simple, dear," Chang Wo shook his head. His gaze became distant, looking out the window at the passing cars. "He's... not your average rule-breaker. He's intelligent. Dangerously intelligent. And he has influence over other guys. A whole group of followers. I was afraid of a rebellion, but... it seems it's been avoided."
He didn't tell them about the debts, about the shady figures at the court, about that chilling, empty look he had seen in Ming You's eyes. He bore some burdens himself, not to worry his family.
"But you handled it," Chang Yeong said softly, placing her palm over his hand on the table. Her touch was warm and reassuring. "You always find a way to get through. Even if it's through strictness."
"Our daughter is right," Chang Wo finally tore his gaze from the window and looked at his wife. His eyes showed weariness, but also resolve. "Rules exist for everyone. And if they are systematically broken, undermining the team's foundation... what's left for a coach? I gave him chances. Many chances."
At that moment, the waiter brought the first dishes. The aroma of soybean paste stew — doenjang-jjigae — filled the air, making their stomachs rumble treacherously. Chang Su Yeong happily dug in.
"You know, Dad," she said with her mouth full, then, catching herself, covered it with her palm. "Sorry. I wanted to say... we had someone like that at our school too. Everyone was afraid of him. But when the principal called his parents and threatened expulsion, he immediately became as meek as a lamb."
"You see," Chang Yeong smiled, serving her husband some pork. "Sometimes you just need to show firmness."
"Maybe," Chang Wo agreed, but deep down he doubted it. Threats of expulsion had made no impression on Ming You. That guy was playing his own, more complex game. The thought of this washed over him with a cold wave again, but he pushed it away. Now was not the time. Now was his family.
"And what will happen to the team now?" asked Chang Su Yeong. "Without their... captain?"
"The team will remain," Chang Wo said firmly. "The other guys are good, talented kids. A bit confused, but their hearts are in the right place. Without bad influence, they can blossom. I believe in them."
He had almost convinced himself of this.
The conversation gradually shifted to mundane, light topics: plans for the weekend, the new funny habit little Mi had of trying to grab his own feet, the upcoming school festival where Chang Su Yeong was in charge of decorating the bulletin board.
Chang Wo watched them — his wife, carefully feeding her husband a piece of samgyeopsal, his daughter, enthusiastically talking about her project, his sleeping son — and a strange, dual feeling spread in his chest. Deep, all-consuming love and sharp, aching responsibility. He was their protector. He was building this wall of normality, stability, warmth. And he felt that somewhere out there, in the darkness, someone was approaching the foundation of this wall. Not with a sledgehammer, but with a thin, precise instrument.
"Dad, can I have ice cream for dessert?" Su Yeong interrupted his grim thoughts.
"Only if you finish your rice," he replied automatically, returning to the reality of the dinner table.
"We will!" his wife and daughter said in unison, and they laughed.