He just looked straight ahead with tired eyes that clearly wanted to be anywhere else.
"...Kim Si-Hon."
The reporters stirred the mont his words settled.
Caras lifted.
Microphones leaned forward like hungry animals.
One reporter finally spoke.
"Chairman Kim... you speak about money with absolute certainty. Do you truly believe there is nothing money cannot do?"
A quiet... dramatic, no sound passed through the hall.
So are curious. So doubtful and so already convinced.
Kim Dae-Hyun didn’t answer imdiately.
He simply looked at the reporter... then slowly smiled.
Not warmly.
Not kindly.
But with the calm confidence of soone who had already won.
He stepped closer to the microphone.
"My entire life," he began softly, "people have tried to comfort themselves with beautiful lies."
His gaze swept across the crowd.
"Money can’t buy happiness. Money can’t buy love. Money can’t buy life."
A faint chuckle escaped him.
"But tell ..."
His voice lowered— quiet, controlled, dangerous.
"When a child is dying in a hospital... what saves them first?"
Silence.
"Hope?" he asked.
"No."
"Prayer?"
"No."
His eyes sharpened.
"Money."
No one moved.
No one breathed.
"If you are poor," he continued calmly, "you wait in line. You pray the doctor has ti. You pray the dicine is cheap. You pray fate is kind."
A pause.
"But if you are rich..."
His fingers tapped the microphone once.
"You don’t pray."
The sound echoed through the hall.
"You choose."
Another step forward.
"You choose the best hospital. The best doctor. The newest dicine. The fastest surgery. The safest future."
His voice grew steadier— stronger.
"So don’t tell money cannot save lives. I have seen it save thousands."
A murmur spread through the audience.
So uncomfortable, so shaken and so nodding slowly.
Kim Dae-Hyun’s expression never changed.
"You say money cannot buy happiness."
He tilted his head slightly.
"HoHo. That is sothing only people without money like to say."
A few nervous laughs slipped out— then quickly died.
"Because happiness," he said quietly,
"is not a miracle."
"It is security."
"Food without worry. A ho without fear. A future without begging."
His eyes turned toward the caras.
"And security... has always had a price."
Silence pressed down on the room.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
"I am not proud because I am rich," he continued.
"I am proud because I built sothing that allows people around to live without fear."
A small pause.
Then his voice dropped to almost a whisper...
"And in this world..."
"...freedom without fear..."
"...is the closest thing to happiness that truly exists."
No applause.
Not YET.
The words were still sinking in.
Slowly... deeply... painfully real shit.
Kim Dae-Hyun straightened his suit.
"So yes," he finished quietly,
"I believe in money— because money..."
A final pause.
"Is... the only promise this world has never broken for ."
Silence.
Then—
A loud applause erupted across the hall.
Not polite clapping.
Not forced applause.
But the loud, overwhelming sound of people
who didn’t know whether to feel inspired...
Or terrified...
The young man’s fingers tightened slightly at his side.
Not angry.
Not embarrassed.
Just... tired.
Like this exact conversation had happened a hundred tis already... just never in front of caras.
The old man didn’t seem to notice.
Or maybe— he noticed and simply didn’t care for it.
Because power dont apologize.
He placed his arm around his son’s shoulder again, smiling warmly for the audience... a perfect family portrait painted in money.
"If I die..." he said calmly, voice smooth like a polished marble, "he will inherit everything I own."
Soft murmurs rippled through the hall.
"But..." the old man chuckled lightly, "he says he doesn’t want it."
A few people in the crowd laughed politely.
"Well... just a rebellious child. Eighteen years old. He will understand once he grows up."
The son slowly lifted the old man’s hand off his shoulder.
No force.
No drama.
Just a quiet, clear refusal.
The movent was small— but the silence it created felt enormous.
Caras caught everything.
Of course they did.
The old man’s smile didn’t crack.
Not even a little.
"I do have two daughters..." he continued smoothly, "but... what I need... is my son."
The words landed heavier than before.
Sharper.
Colder.
Sowhere in the audience, a reporter quickly raised a hand.
"Chairman Kim!"
"Do you truly believe money can obtain anything?"
The hall turned quiet again.
Perfect timing.
Perfect question.
The old man laughed softly and he slowly turned toward the reporter... and smiled.
Not kindly.
Confidently.
"୧( ˵ ° ~ ° ˵ ) This again..." Seorin muttered.
"How much money do I have?" he repeated softly.
A pause.
Then—
"I own hospitals where life begins... and hospitals where life ends."
Silence.
"I own buildings where people dream... and buildings where those dreams collapse."
No one moved.
"I fund governnts you will never see... and influence decisions you will never hear about."
The confidence in his voice wasn’t loud.
Didn’t need to be.
Because certainty was louder than shouting.
"If sothing in this world cannot be bought..."
he said quietly, "...it simply ans the price has not been offered high enough yet."
No laughter now.
Only stillness.
Heavy.
And uncomfortable.
Real.
"And if soday," he continued, eyes calm, "There truly exists sothing that money cannot reach..."
A faint smile.
"Then I will simply beco rich enough... to reach it anyway."
Silence swallowed the room whole.
And then—
WEEE— WOOO— WEEE— WOOO—
The distant scream of an ambulance siren suddenly cut through the air outside the hall.
Sharp.
Urgent.
Completely out of place.
For the first ti— the old man’s speech paused.
Caras shifted slightly.
So guests glanced toward the doors.
The siren grew louder.
Closer.
Closer.
And sowhere far away... in a quiet living room... a certain dramatic girl who believed she was dying sat frozen on her couch— hearing the sa siren approach her house.
Two completely different worlds.
One sound.
Getting closer.
Closer.
Closer.
She suddenly gasped.
"Wahhh— I forgot I’m dying!!! Why am I watching an old man giving a speech about money?!!!"
The old man’s voice continued playing from her phone...
But Seorin quickly turned the screen off, cutting him off mid sentence.
Silence returned to the living room.
She slowly lay flat on the couch, one hand rising dramatically to her forehead— like a tragic heroine in the final scene of a historical drama.
And then—
WEEE—WOOO—WEEE—WOOO—WEEE—WOOO—
The ambulance siren grew louder.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer—
Until it finally stopped right in front of her house.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Ma’am? Are you there?!"
Then—
SLAP!
"DUMBASS!!! Why are you knocking?! BARGE IN!!! SOONE IS DYING!!!" a man shouted from outside.
A loud crash followed as the door burst open.
Two n and one woman rushed inside, eyes scanning the room in urgency—
And then they saw her.
Seorin lay slumped across the couch, one hand still pressed to her forehead, looking exactly like a heroine peacefully waiting for death to take her away.
"...Ma’am!!! D-don’t... don’t die!!!"
One of them quickly pulled out the stretcher.
The other two hurried to her side.
"Ma’am, breathe. Just breathe."
Seorin’s eyes trembled weakly.
"I... I don’t think I can go on..."
A fragile pause.
"...Please... bring my big plushie bear... from my room..."
Silence fell for one dramatic second.
Then—
"I... I see the lights..." she whispered.
The paradics froze—
Then instantly panicked.
"NOOOOOOO!!!" "MA’AM, DON’T DIE ON US!!!"
They grabbed her carefully, lifting her onto the stretcher with desperate urgency, as if every second mattered.
They rushed her out of the house like ti itself was chasing them.
Cold night air brushed against Seorin’s face as the stretcher lifted slightly with every hurried step.
The ambulance lights painted the quiet street in flashing red and blue— like a dramatic movie scene... except the main character was whispering nonsense about plushies.
"I... I’m fading..." Seorin murmured weakly, one hand reaching toward the sky with maximum tragic energy.
"MA’AM PLEASE DON’T FADE!!!" one of the paradics shouted, voice already halfway to tears for absolutely no reason.
"I never... finished my ga backlog..." she continued, trembling dramatically.
"My limited skins... my login rewards..."
"YOU CAN STILL CLAIM THEM LATER!!! STAY WITH US!!!" A high pitched voice shouted.
They slid the stretcher into the ambulance with a loud CLACK.
Doors slamd shut.
Inside, everything turned bright white, clean, and terrifyingly serious.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Machines imdiately started making important dical noises that sounded convincing even if nobody understood them.
One paradic held an oxygen mask near her face.
"Ma’am, breathe slowly. You’re safe now."
Seorin looked at him with watery eyes full of final episode determination.
"...If... if I don’t make it..."
"YOU WILL MAKE IT!!!"
"...tell the world..."
"Yes?!"
"...that Han Seorin..."
A dramatic pause.
"...was beautiful until the end..."
Silence.
The three paradics froze.
Not from sadness.
From confusion.
"...You are not dying," the female paradic said carefully, like speaking to a very emotional raccoon.
But Seorin only smiled faintly... tragically...
Then her hand dropped to the side of the stretcher.
"...Ah..."
"MA’AM?!"
"...I can hear... angel music..."
"That’s the SIREN, MA’AM!!!"
Outside—
WEEEEE— WOOOOOO— WEEEEEE—WOOOOO—
The ambulance sped through the city lights, cutting across intersections like a blade of urgency.
Inside— one paradic quickly checked her pulse.
Paused.
Checked again.
His expression changed...
Not to horror.
Not to panic.
Just...
Confusion.
"...Her pulse is normal."
"...What?"
"Breathing normally too."
The female paradic slowly looked at Seorin...
Who was still lying there with perfect tragic posture, eyes half closed like a professional drama actress.
A long silence filled the ambulance.
Only the siren scread outside.
Then—
"...Ma’am," she said gently.
"...Yes...?" Seorin whispered like a candle about to go out.
"...How exactly did this start?"
Seorin sniffed weakly.
"...Google said... I might die in one minute..."
Silence.
Complete.
Absolute.
Universal, Gok# versal, Yuj# Versal level silence.
The male paradic slowly turned his head toward the other two.
"...Google."
"...Google," the other repeated.
Another pause.
Then the driver’s voice ca faintly from the front—
"...Are you kidding ?"
Inside the ambulance...
The three paradics looked down at the perfectly healthy girl, dramatically pretending to et her ancestors.
And for the first ti tonight—
None of them knew whether to laugh... or cry...?
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