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"You're closing it down?"
Kang Eun-ji's mouth was gaping open as she stared at her husband in shock.
"What choice do I have?" sighed Gi-hun, throwing his hands up in defeat. "There's no business. I can't keep losing money."
"There must be another way."
"If there is, I'll have a hard time finding it."
"What will your mother say?" hissed Eun-ji with worry.
"Who cares what she says?" Gi-hun snapped, immediately looking regretful as he spoke in such an ill tone about his eomma. In a softer voice, he muttered, "She'll just berate me, won't she? I'm already a disappointment to her. Probably wishes I ended up like my friend Sang-woo, wherever he is now."
"Don't say that," said Eun-ji, crossing the table to lay a comforting hand on her husband. "She's your mother."
"She probably likes you more than anyone else," Gi-hun joked, to which Eun-ji laughed a little. "She's always making you such nice things to eat whenever we visit, nicer than whatever I had as a child."
"Let's go to bed," Eun-ji suggested with a yawn. "It's too late to talk about all this."
"Good idea," agreed Gi-hun, and without another word, he began making his way to the bathroom he shared with his wife, dragging his feet along as he did so.
Gi-hun and Eun-ji had tucked Ga-yeong in bed around ten minutes before. Just as Eun-ji had been about to go to the bathroom to brush her teeth, Gi-hun had said he needed to talk to her about something urgent. So they had gone back to the dining table where Gi-hun had revealed that his restaurant was a failure and that he'd need to shut it down soon.
Gi-hun was frantic. He had no idea how he'd be able to bring food to the table if he kept on having failure after failure, starting with the loss of his job at the car company. And even though Eun-ji had somewhat forgiven Gi-hun for missing Ga-yeong's birth three years ago, he still felt heart-wrenching guilt that he hadn't been able to support his wife in her time of need. He'd felt so angry with himself after that, always wondering why he'd been stupid enough to even go to that strike, knowing that Eun-ji had been ready to pop at any moment.
As Gi-hun walked past Ga-yeong's room, he heard a tiny voice call, "Appa?"
He stopped. Backtracking a few steps, he cracked the door open a few more inches (Eun-ji always insisted on leaving it a little open in case of an emergency).
There little Ga-yeong sat, fully awake and upright on her bed, her puff of hair sticking out in all directions.
Checking his watch, Gi-hun raised an eyebrow while saying, "It's very late for you to be up."
"I had a nightmare," Ga-yeong explained, and for the first time, Gi-hun could see his daughter's unshed tears.
"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, fully stepping in the room and gently shutting the door behind him. Then, he sat at the edge of the small bed and held out his arms, making Ga-yeong grin and leap into them.
After making sure Ga-yeong was secure in his arms, he stood up, walking around the room as he cradled his little girl against his shoulder. He then began singing "Arirang," a national folk song that had been sung to him when he was afraid. Though he didn't sing very well, it still worked without fail. He hoped it'd continue to work as she grew older and smarter.
In no time, Ga-yeong's even, rhythmic breaths were all that could be heard in the small room as Gi-hun gently laid her down, fluffing her pillows and draping the pink, white-dotted blanket over her. Then, after brushing her hair back and planting a kiss on her head, he slipped out of the room, taking care to make as little noise as possible as he shut the door behind him. Though it was against the rules Eun-ji had set, Gi-hun thought that perhaps his daughter would feel safer knowing there wouldn't be any unwanted visitors.
He felt slightly desolate as he turned to face the dark hallway, the little light that was there coming through the window at the end. He always felt oddly alone when darkness surrounded him like this. It made him feel as though no one would be there for him if he needed help. In other words, he felt helpless. Sighing, he headed for the bathroom, resolving to not think about any of his problems until the sun shone on him in the morning.
Brushing his hair back, Gi-hun tightened his muffler as he made his way through the snowy streets. As a kid, his eomma made him wear a hat when it was cold out. He hated it because the hats he wore always flattened his fluffy hair, making his head look like a misshapen pear by the time he got to school. When he moved out after marrying Eun-ji, he donated all the winter hats he owned to a homeless shelter and resolved to only wear caps when it was especially sunny.
Walking into his restaurant, he greeted his sole employee, a man named Park Chan-yeol, with a bright smile. In the two years his fried chicken business had been running, Gi-hun and Chan-yeol had formed a tentative friendship. They had been the only ones there at the start, and they would be the only ones there at the end. In between, around fifty different people had come and gone, each providing something unique to the small restaurant.
"Good morning, Gi-hun sajangnim," said Chan-yeol with a tiny bow.
"How many times have I told you to simply call me hyung?" was Gi-hun's response as he clapped Chan-yeol's shoulder.
"Not when we're working! What will people say?"
"You talk as if there'll be people coming in, Chan-yeol," laughed Gi-hun. If he was going to close the business, he thought he might as well joke about it.
"You never know," Chan-yeol countered cheerfully. "It's very cold out. By nighttime, there will be people coming in to eat our delicious fried chicken."
Setting his jacket and muffler on the rack in the back room, Gi-hun shrugged. "If you say so."
The men mostly sat behind the cash register chatting about old times, interrupted only by Gi-hun getting up to make his and Chan-yeol's lunch. As per Gi-hun's earlier prediction, no one—not a single person—walked through that dingy door.
Until someone did in the early evening.
The man who walked in was wearing a custom-tailored suit, complete with a tie, dress shoes, and a small handkerchief in his breast pocket. As he approached the counter, Gi-hun's eyes widened as he noted the potential customer's obvious wealth. He got up to head to the kitchen as Chan-yeol jumped up, greeting the man and asking him what he wanted to eat. As Gi-hun was about to step in the kitchen, Chan-yeol whispered, "Told you!"
From the window by the stove, Gi-hun could see the man roving over the menu, scanning it and deciding what he wanted to have. Only a minute passed before Chan-yeol popped in, telling Gi-hun the man's order.
When Gi-hun served their customer his meal, the man unexpectedly spoke to him
"Would you care to sit down?"
Gi–hun cocked his head to the side confusedly. What could this clearly rich man want from a person like him?
"Um…sure. Okay."
He slid into the seat awkwardly, clasping his hands under the table.
"I noticed that your business has fallen on hard times," the man began in a low tone.
Gi-hun's eyebrows instantly furrowed.
"How do you know that?" he hissed.
"I know a great many things," the man responded demurely. "I find businesses who aren't doing as well as they can, and I bring them to where they want to be."
The tone the man used turned a cog in Gi-hun's mind. Someone was offering him help! Perhaps he'd be able to bring food to the table once more. But…
"How do I know you're not lying to me?"
Gi-hun, for all his failures in the academic realm, could at least tell when someone had an agenda courtesy of Sang-woo's distrusting nature. His suspicion of him grew despite how enticing the offer was.
"Here," said the man, slipping him a small piece of paper from his pocket. "Come to this address after you close for the night."
Immediately, Gi-hun started shaking his head.
"I can't, my wife will wonder where I am—"
"You can easily make your excuses to her, no?" countered the stranger smoothly, slowly rising from the booth. "You have the rest of the day to think about it. Consider my offer. It's only valid till midnight."
Then, without as much as waiting for a response, the man waltzed out of the restaurant, leaving Gi-hun in a daze.
He was still in a daze when Chan-yeol came out from the kitchen after washing the dishes.
"Sajangnim? Who was that? What did he tell you?"
Gi-hun looked up at his employee and friend.
"You know we're not doing good business."
Chan-yeol looked down at him with confusion.
"What does that have to do with the customer?"
Sighing, Gi-hun took the slip of paper and held it up for Chan-yeol to see.
"He said he could help the business do well again. Before he left, he gave me this paper."
"I don't trust him," Chan-yeol replied in an instant.
"I don't either, but…his offer…I'm very curious as to what it is," he admitted.
Chan-yeol shook his head quickly.
"Please don't, Gi-hun sajangnim," the younger man pleaded. "Just keep working and trying to get more business. We'll get back soon enough, won't we?"
Gi-hun's eyes watered at the last sentence.
Looking up at him, he said, "I'm going to close this place." Two tears rolled down his cheeks as Chan-yeol's face morphed into shock. "The business is so bad that there's no way we can get back without a miracle. That man is probably our saving grace."
Chan-yeol still wasn't convinced.
"It's probably a scam," he argued. "People make a living from selling information like this."
Gi-hun felt pulled from his temptation, surprised by this new information.
"They do?"
Chan-yeol nodded. "So many scammers call or send mail. How do you think they know where to find me?"
"Damn," Gi-hun muttered. "I must be really dumb if I couldn't even figure this out."
"No, sajangnim, you're not dumb," said Chan-yeol, placing a strong hand on Gi-hun's shoulder. "You just trust very deeply. That's why I'm so proud to call you my friend. You're honest and hardworking and deserve everything you have. Your daughter is very lucky to be able to call you her appa."
Gi-hun's resulting smile was pained as he heard such profound praise directed at him. On the contrary, he didn't feel like he deserved anything. He was a disappointment to his mother, couldn't hold down any source of income, and was where he was because he didn't apply himself in school.
It was the other way around. He was lucky to be able to call someone his daughter.
"Let's continue working," Chan-yeol suggested. "Maybe our luck hasn't run out yet. What do you say, sajangnim?"
Gi-hun nodded, standing up.
"Perhaps it hasn't," he said.
"I'll get back to the kitchen," Chan-yeol informed. Eyeing the paper in Gi-hun's hand, he added, "You should throw that away. Forget about it."
Again, Gi-hun nodded. With a smile, Chan-yeol retreated back into the kitchen, leaving the older man alone in the dining area.
Gi-hun looked down at the paper, which was still unfolded. When he was sure Chan-yeol wouldn't see him, he opened the paper up and saw the address the man had mentioned. He recognized the street straight away, for it was only a block away from his apartment.
Was visiting the address and taking the rich man up on his offer truly worth it? What if Chan-yeol was right about being able to get back without a miracle? What if it truly was a scam?
"Gi-hun sajangnim!" yelled Chan-yeol from the kitchen, harshly pulling Gi-hun from his thoughts. "There's a rat in here—do you know where the broom is?"
"I'll get it, Chan-yeol!" the older man called back, quickly stuffing the paper in his pocket. "You keep an eye on the rat."
"Okay!" Chan-yeol replied.
Quickly shaking his head, Gi-hun returned to reality and began searching for the broom. He'd have to think about the man's offer later.
"How late will you be?" asked Eun-ji from the other end of the line.
"Pretty late," Gi-hun answered, shivering as his breath came out of his mouth in small puffs. "There's no one to work the night shift," he then lied just as the thought popped in his head. In times like these, Eun-ji's ignorance regarding how many people he employed came in handy.
After he'd closed the restaurant, allowing Chan-yeol to go home for the night, he called Eun-ji on his cell, telling her he wouldn't be home on time.
"Okay, Gi-hun. I'll wait for you. Will you bring dinner?"
"Of course, yeobo," said Gi-hun with a small, crinkly smile.
"Thank you."
After Eun-ji bade him goodbye, Gi-hun hung up and pulled out the now-crumpled scrap of paper the rich man had given him earlier that evening.
A few subway stations later, he found himself in front of a large, nondescript building. Neon letters and fluorescent lights shone through the windows brightly, making Gi-hun squint, and from what little he could see, there were many, many people inside. Muffled shouts—cheerful, frustrated, excited—filled his ears, seeping through the small crevice in between the two doors in front of him.
"Well, let's see what this man has to offer," he said to himself before pushing the doors and heading inside.
Gi-hun's hands instantly flew to his ears as soon as he stepped in. Everyone was screaming so loudly that it morphed into a single noise, so passionate and overbearing that he thought it would crush him alive. What was this place?
"You came!" a voice yelled into the mist of other voices, and Gi-hun turned to find the man who'd come into his restaurant earlier. "I knew you would!"
"What the hell is this?" Gi-hun yelled back.
"Horse racing!" the man replied cheerfully, placing a hand on Gi-hun's shoulder and guiding him to a side of the room where it was quieter.
"Horse racing…as in betting?" Gi-hun questioned, dread starting to settle at the pit of his stomach. "Are these people betting?"
Before the rich man could answer, there was a deafening cry as the current horse race came to its conclusion. While some people jumped up in glee, waving around papers Gi-hun assumed to be where they placed their bets, there were angry cries, too, frustrated at how much money they'd lost.
"Why don't you give it a try?" the man asked in a low voice as people started placing their bets again. "Bet a few million won, maybe. Start off small. And if you win, increase the bet."
But Gi-hun was still processing the crazed behavior of the betters around him. It was only when a form was placed into his hands that he realized what the man had asked.
"Personally, I'd choose numbers four and nine for the next race," the man whispered in Gi-hun's ear as though he were passing along a secret conspiracy. "Those horses are always winners."
Shrugging his shoulders, Gi-hun decided to place a bet of ten million won, marking the fourth and ninth bubbles on the betting sheet. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make him jump up and scream if he won the money. Letting out a nervous sigh, he passed the note to the man, who grinned and took it to the desk where he handed the form to one of the people behind it. Then, he made his way to the watch area and focused his eyes on the screen above him.
When the race kicked off, Gi-hun struggled to find the horses he'd betted on. Everything was moving so fast, it was impossible to keep up—
And that's when he locked eyes on number four, who was clearly ahead of the other horses.
Could this really be happening? he thought, not daring to let his thoughts get the better of him. There was no way his luck was about to work in his favor, absolutely no way.
He sighed with consternation as he was proven right. Another horse, clearly faster, had taken the lead. He was about to cross his arms and wait for the inevitable loss of money when he spotted the number.
"No…" he breathed, not believing his eyes. Rubbing them, he refocused his sight on the screen to check if his brain wasn't deceiving him. Indeed, he realized with numb euphoria, it was not.
Number four had been overtaken by none other than nine.
Caught up in the crowd, he started shouting along with the others, chanting for his horses, willing for them to win even though it was unlikely his voice would be heard through the screen. Gi-hun let his shouts become louder to the point of them being screams.
"Come on! Come on! Come on!" he yelled, pumping his fist in the air. At this point, his screams had increased in their aggression, so fierce and passionate that his spittle had started flying through the air. Quickly recognizing this, he calmed down a bit, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. But once clean, he was back to chanting with the rest of the betters.
Gi-hun actually jumped a foot off the ground when numbers four and nine crossed the finish line.
"YEEEEEEEAH!" he thundered, throwing a punch to the air. "THAT'S HOW IT'S FUCKING DONE!"
His celebrations, though loud, weren't unlike the celebrations of the others around him. People were jumping up and down, crying, hugging each other because their horses had won. And then there were people who were snarling, angry that their horses had lost. But none of that was a concern to Gi-hun, who wasn't slow in realizing that he'd actually won money.
He beelined for the counter where the winners were lined up to collect their cash, eagerly anticipating the crisp bills that'd soon be placed into his waiting hands. He couldn't believe it! At this rate, he'd be able to save his restaurant, and he'd have a stable source of income once more.
"Thank you, thank you," he repeated breathlessly as he was handed the precious money. Quickly pocketing it inside his jacket, he made to leave the betting house before being stopped by that same stranger from before.
"Only one?" he questioned, putting a hand on Gi-hun's shoulder. "Come on, now, don't tell me you've given up just yet."
"I haven't!" Gi-hun replied with a wide smile. "I just have to get back home to my wife and celebrate. It's very late, you know." Checking his watch, his eyes widened when he saw it was already nine.
"Then take even more money home with this last race," the man reasoned. "I'll tell you the winning horses again if you'll allow me to."
Feeling conflicted, Gi-hun couldn't decide whether to continue betting or go home with what he had. Ten million won wasn't a small amount of money. It would help pay for many things that needed fixing in his life. But—but!—maybe his luck hadn't run out yet.
Before he knew it, he was back in front of the screen, this time betting on numbers twelve and fifteen with a whopping fifty million won on the line. The rich stranger—who Gi-hun realized he still didn't know the name of—had assured him that twelve and fifteen were sure winners.
Just like before with four and nine, twelve and fifteen took the lead. Gi-hun yelled encouragements to his horses, willing them once more to bring it home. They couldn't let him down, not when he had so much money on the line.
"Yes, yes, yes—YES!" Gi-hun screamed once more as twelve and fifteen crossed the finish line first, a little less excited than the first race but still highly energetic. It didn't take long for him to realize he'd be taking sixty million won home! "Ahhhh, I did it!"
Everything was all right again! Oh, how happy Eun-ji would be once he told her this news! He couldn't believe it. He couldn't process it.
Sixty. Million. Won.
He wanted to find the rich stranger and thank him. Without him, Gi-hun would've never been able to get the money to keep his restaurant running for a few more years. Luckily, he found the man just outside the entrance, and he bowed down so low his hair almost touched the ground.
"Thank you so much, seonsaengnim," Gi-hun said when he stood upright, taking the man's hand and shaking it fervently. "You've done me a great service tonight. Tell me anything you want, and I'll repay you the best I can."
The rich stranger's face remained strangely passive, but he cracked a small smile and patted Gi-hun's shoulder.
"Just spend your money. That is the way you will repay me, Seong Gi-hun ssi."
"Thank you again," Gi-hun made sure to say as he began heading for the subway down the street. "Thank you so much!"
The rich man merely smiled, holding up a hand to indicate he'd heard Gi-hun, before heading back inside the betting house.
"Eun-ji! Eun-ji! You won't believe what happened to me today!" cried Gi-hun as he burst into the apartment with snow-covered hair and many, many bags of Ga-yeong's favorite fried chicken.
"Aigo!" Eun-ji exclaimed as she saw the sheer number of bags her husband was carrying. It was nine thirty-seven. She had been about to put Ga-yeong to bed when Gi-hun had returned.
"Come, Ga-yeong!" he urged excitedly, setting down the bags. "Have some chicken before you go to bed!"
"Appa!" Ga-yeong cheered, jumping up to greet him. She had been sitting on the sofa, watching a silly cartoon about a sponge who lived in a pineapple under the sea.
Quickly taking off his gloves, Gi-hun asked Eun-ji if she could take the boxes of chicken out. "I'll set the table when I've gotten my layers off," he added.
Nodding, Eun-ji began setting out the boxes as Gi-hun took Ga-yeong in his arms. He grinned as she peppered little kisses all over his face.
"Let Appa take his jacket off at least!" Eun-ji chuckled, seeing the father and daughter's exchange. "It must be very hot."
"Ah, I don't mind," Gi-hun brushed off, ruffling Ga-yeong's hair before telling her to wait by the table. "Every kiss I get from my little princess is like winning a billion won."
After taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack, he kicked off his boots and picked Ga-yeong up. Then, he took one of the drumsticks and held it up to his daughter's mouth. Gi-hun burst out laughing when Ga-yeong took an enormous bite, ripping about three fourths of the meat off the bone.
"You must be really hungry, sweetheart," Gi-hun commented, giggling. "You won't even spare your appa half the chicken!"
"Don't be silly!" Ga-yeong said in that tiny, cute voice of hers. "There are so many boxes!"
As the small family of three continued laughing and giggling, Ga-yeong soon grew sleepy, and Eun-ji took her to her room in response. Gi-hun then resumed the role of the responsible husband and began setting the table for himself and his wife.
Not a moment too soon did Eun-ji return, looking at Gi-hun in a way she hadn't looked at him since they'd first met. It was…fond. Adoring, his mind supplied.
"You really are lenient with Ga-yeong," she murmured.
"Is lenient the right word?" asked Gi-hun as he stood from his chair, gently placing his hands on his wife's shoulders, rubbing them affectionately with his thumbs.
Looking up at him, she asked, "What happened today, Gi-hun? You didn't tell me."
As soon as the question passed through her lips, Gi-hun grinned and placed an ardent kiss on them. He was pleased to see the resultant flush creeping up her cheeks as he pulled away.
"I got lucky," he whispered. "Very, very lucky."
"Is that so?"
Gi-hun nodded quickly, smiling again as he pulled Eun-ji into a tight embrace. Placing his chin on her head, he said with a slight waver in his voice, "I won't have to close the restaurant!" With happy tears, he declared, "We were given a miracle from the Buddha himself, my love."
Eun-ji didn't need to know the specifics of his miracle, Gi-hun decided. It was no use worrying her about the fact he'd betted on horses to get the money he needed. Perhaps, he thought with a sly grin, he'd even be able to go back to that place and win some more tomorrow.
Gi-hun had a feeling that his luck hadn't run out just yet.