"I thought I told you to leave… along with your people."
Minjae's arms folded firmly across her chest as she stared down the woman bold enough to defy her order.
"Mrs. Choi," the old woman said, stepping forward carefully.
Minjae tilted her head, a slow amused smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Ah. Looks like someone's done their research. So you finally know who owns this land? Wonderful" she said "saves me the trouble of repeating myself." she added
The woman swallowed, gathering courage. "Can you come with me? I'd… like to show you something."
Minjae raised a brow. She had not been expecting a sudden invitation. Her gaze flicked to the people behind the woman — all wearing the same pleading, exhausted hope.
"Please," whispered the mother of the little boy, clutching his tiny hand.
Minjae turned back to the old woman. Her face was stern, but there was something sharp in her eyes — a kind of steady resolve. The look of someone who had lived too long to be easily intimidated, yet respectful enough to choose her words carefully.
With a deep breath, Minjae finally said
"You have less than fifteen minutes to show me anything worth my time," She glanced at her wristwatch. "Use it well."
Then She turned slightly.
"Wait here for me," she instructed Sang-tae and the others behind her, before following the woman.
---
They passed through the skeleton of the uncompleted building—the same spot Minjae had first encountered them. Dust coated the beams, sunlight sliced through metal rods, and the wind slipped through cracks like thin whispers. Beyond the structure was yet another abandoned block, then another, before the land finally opened.
A wide, breathtaking expanse stretched before her—massive, wild, and almost endless.
The soil was dark and rich, the type that promised life. At one side, a small patch of plants grew—nothing impressive, barely one-third of the land—but enough to show effort, enough to tell a story.
Minjae paused.
She knew the property was big, her father's documents had said so. But seeing it like this, in person… the sheer openness, the untouched soil stretching farther than her eyes could track, it made her realize she hadn't just underestimated it… she had wildly miscalculated.
The property looked less like a backyard and more like a private kingdom.
This wasn't just big. This was potential.
She let out a slow breath, turning to the old woman.
"What exactly is your purpose for bringing me here?" she asked. "If this is some dramatic attempt to remind me that my land is, in fact, mine… I assure you, my memory is intact."
A faint chuckle escaped the old woman.
"If we are going to be chased out of here for good," she began, "the least we can do is try our best to convince you that we are better off staying… than leaving."
"And what do you mean by that?" Minjae asked, interest slipping in.
The woman took her time, eyes drifting over the vast land.
"For years," she said softly, "we have fed ourselves from this place. As homeless people, food is the hardest thing to secure… but this land has been generous to us."
She looked down at her wrinkled hands — hands with deep creases, a few faded scars, and the kind of roughness that only comes from decades of work.
"Many of us have lived here more than half our lives. Planting. Harvesting. Surviving."
She looked up with a slight smile on her face,
"At this point, I can proudly say we are no different from professional farmers."
A small smile tugged at Minjae's mouth, ideas flickering quietly in her mind.
"So what are you insinuating?" she asked. "Are you trying to strike a deal with me?" Her tone was deliberately flat, even though she already knew where this conversation was headed. Still, she wanted to hear it come from the woman herself.
"Yes." The old woman nodded earnestly. "Let us stay, and we will be nothing but useful to you."
Silence washed over them. The old woman swallowed, nervous.
"You don't have to decide now," she added quickly. "You can think about it—"
"There's no need," Minjae said simply.
The woman's hopeful eyes dimmed instantly. Her shoulders fell. She let out a slow exhale, bracing herself—
"That actually sounds like a nice deal to me," Minjae finished.
The transformation was instant. The woman's eyes widened, filling with tears. She grabbed Minjae's hand gently with both of hers.
"Thank you," she whispered. Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Thank you, Mrs. Choi."
Minjae looked down at the hand holding hers — the wrinkles, the old scars, the warmth radiating from skin that had worked for decades without rest. Something about that warmth slipped past her armor and touched a soft spot she rarely acknowledged.
Minjae wasn't a sentimental person__ she was far from it,
But thank you, Mrs. Choi felt strangely foreign… painfully unfamiliar.
For so long, all she had received from people was resentment, suspicion, whispered insults spoken the moment her back turned, Even when someone did say something kind, it was never sincere.
Yet this...
This gratitude felt real,Pure and Undeniably genuine.
With a composed breath, she gently slipped her hand out of the woman's grip.
"Prepare yourselves," she said, taking a card from her purse and handing it over. "Once you're ready, meet me in my office for further discussion."
"I will." The woman bowed deeply.
Minjae nodded once, turned, and walked off
---
By the time she reached the front of the site, her decision was already firm.
"Cancel the initial plan," she told the real-estate consultant. "And wait for my call."
Before Sang-tae could ask even one question, she had already gotten into her car and driven off. Jung-shin was quicker; he was in his own car within seconds, trailing after her.
Sang-tae and the consultant exchanged a long, confused stare.
Just then, the old woman stepped out from the side of the building. Immediately, the others rushed toward her.
"Did she agree?" one of them asked anxiously.
The woman lifted the business card with trembling hands and nodded.
Cheers erupted instantly, echoing across the wide land as the people hugged, laughed, and celebrated.
---
CHN's Company
Team Leader Min Ga-yeon walked through the hallway with a file tucked under her arm. She bowed, exchanged greetings, and kept her usual brisk pace.
That was when she spotted the youngest in her team — Kim Cheol, Who was practically bolting toward a corner like a criminal avoiding CCTV.
Ga-yeon narrowed her eyes.
"Kim Cheol!" she called sharply, making the young woman froze mid-escape, shoulders rising like she'd been caught stealing. Gayeon approached slowly, smirking.
"So tell me," she began, "Is this the time I said we'd resume our meeting today? Huh? Do tell me, Is it?"
Kim Cheol spun around with the fakest smile in existence.
"I—I wasn't late, Team Leader! I was just… uh… just…"
She scrambled for an excuse, but Ga-yeon finished it for her.
"You were just on your way to buy a snack."
"Yes! Yes, exactly! I already arrived since—"
She pointed to absolutely nowhere, eyes wide with hope.
Ga-yeon's voice boomed, making her jump.
"Do you really expect me to believe that? What is happening to you these days? Huh? Kim Se Cheol, Is Byun Wook finally rubbing off on you? You used to be the bright, innocent angel of the team! Where did she go!?"
"I'm sorry!" Cheol bowed so fast her hair flipped.
Just then a familiar voice cut in.
"Woah, I thought you'd changed by now, Mrs. Ga-yeon."
Ga-yeon shut her eyes. Great.
She turned to see exactly who she expected.
"Mr. Nam," she muttered, jaw tight.
He ignored the clear disgust on her face and strode toward them.
"Why scare the young one like that? She was only imitating you," he said.
He flicked his gaze to his watch. "And look at the time. You just arrived as well. If you keep this up, your team is going to lose what little respect they have left."
He smirked.
"No wonder you've been stuck in Team B your whole career while I'm always one step ahead."
Ga-yeon took a step forward, lips parting—ready to fire back, but before she could, Kim Cheol stepped right in front of her.
"Ajusshi." she called
Mr. Nam choked on air. "A—Aju—"
"Yes, Ajusshi," she said with surprising confidence. "Why don't you mind your own business? Hmm? How about that."
She glared.
"Let's go, Team Leader-nim," Kim Cheol said as she grabbed Min Ga-yeon's wrist and marched off, leaving Mr. Nam completely flabbergasted in the hallway.
"Ajussi?" he repeated, voice cracking. The word hung in the air like a slap.
He blinked hard. Sure, Kim Cheol was the youngest… but the age gap between them was not wide enough for her to be calling him an ajussi. The insult hit him straight in the spine, like someone had just added ten years to his pension plan.
"Ajussi??" he said again, clutching his chest dramatically. "I'm not even... I don't even have back pain yet!"
He pointed after them, face scrunched.
"For the record!" he shouted, "If I'm an ajussi, then she's an ajumma! I said it once and I'll say it again!"
His voice cracked halfway through.
.
.
.
'Ajussi' is a Korean word used to refer to a man who is way older, but not old enough to be called "grandpa."