when the phone rings novel
"Do you... like Hong In-ya?"
—A question even more childish than I imagined.
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as if he'd struck a nerve.
—No, I don't like her. I've just always been unable to let go of my worries about her.
He answered quickly, but his response was still vague. She knew Baek Sa-eon had never shown interest in women, not even during the hormonally charged years of adolescence. Yet, there had always been an inexplicable atmosphere between him and her sister. Back then, Hee-joo had thought it was a natural attraction between a man and a woman—a fluttering feeling for a potential life partner.
But... what if it wasn't that?
Where did the occasional nervousness her sister displayed come from? What if it wasn't the innocent first love of a sixteen-year-old girl?
As she mulled over these thoughts, he spoke again.
"Did you know she avoided people?"
"What?"
—While they were dating, there was never genuine interaction. That means Hee-joo also avoided 406.
"..."
—She might have been willing to play along, but it wasn't a matter of urgency or importance to talk to him.
"Did Hong Hee-joo ever speak to you?"
—...
"It's my turn now, isn't it?" Hee-joo quickly brushed off his attempt to dig deeper, firing her next question.
"What's the last thing you said to Hong In-ya?"
Though she worried she might come across as obsessive, she couldn't help herself. Growing up sandwiched between Baek Sa-eon and her sister, she had always harbored unanswered questions. Neither of them was the type to confide in a child.
He paused, as if recalling something, then answered calmly, his voice flat.
"The last thing?"
"..."
—I proposed marriage.
"...!"
A ringing sound filled Hee-joo's ears. The more she learned about him, the deeper she felt she was falling into a labyrinth.
"Does that mean you don't even drink water, Brother? Are you an elf or something?"
She couldn't help but think back. Every weekend, she was dragged to social gatherings filled with children. Three times a week, she saw him as the indifferent older brother turned tutor. Amid peers plagued by acne and awkwardness, he stood out like a crane among chickens. But elementary school kids and eighteen-year-olds hardly mingled—there was a gulf as wide as the Yalu River between them.
Even so, Hee-joo would always sneak glances at him from afar as her sister led her around.
One day, she noticed something peculiar about him.
He always held a plate of finger food, but he never ate anything. While others chatted and enjoyed their snacks, he would quietly set his plate down or exchange it for a fresh one. Not once did he actually eat the food.
At first, she thought, Maybe his stomach is upset.
But as the gatherings continued month after month, Baek Sa-eon remained the same. He even began to fake bites—pretending to nibble on desserts, only to discreetly spit them out. It was a subtle trick that fooled everyone around him. None of his busy peers noticed that Baek Sa-eon wasn't eating a thing.
"Why am I the only one who sees this?"
She always seemed to catch glimpses of his vulnerabilities. Though his face was as stoic as ever, in her eyes, he looked confused.
It reminded her of the time when she was nine years old, and she'd clumsily tried to comfort a crying boy by singing an anime theme song.
Summoning that same courage, Hee-joo picked up a plate of food and walked straight toward him.
"...!"
When the child suddenly appeared, Baek Sa-eon seemed genuinely surprised. His usually expressionless face betrayed a raised eyebrow.
"What's going on? Why are you here alone?"
"..."
He looked around cautiously, as though searching for an adult or her older sister.
"Even if you ask me, I can't speak..."
He watched in silence as Hee-joo wordlessly took the plate from his hand and handed him a freshly chosen one.
"What are you doing?" he asked coldly.
"..."
Without answering, Hee-joo quickly ate the shrimp canapé on the plate she'd taken from him. Sa-eon, watching her small, rounded cheeks busy chewing, let out an exasperated smile.
Her hands were clasped tightly as she hurried to swallow, making him frown.
Out of nowhere, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Do you even know what you're doing?"
"...!"
His face was too close for comfort, his breath brushing against her skin as he lightly patted her back.
Why? Why are you hitting me?
Her gaze was glued to his sharp, cold black eyes. "Wow, oppa is so handsome..."
She couldn't tear her eyes away.
"No one's watching."
"..."
"You're interesting."
But his expression remained as cold as ever, as though he were appraising a piece of meat rather than engaging with another person.
"Whatever I say, you're not going to tell anyone."
Hee-joo simply blinked, feeling lost and unsure.
He kept patting her back like she might choke, even though the gesture was oddly unsettling.
"How did something like this appear in front of me?"
"..."
"Perfect timing."
Maybe that's why sister Ren-ya seemed drawn to him, too. Perhaps there was some hidden connection between them.
Without realizing it, Hee-joo grew still and sullen.
"All bad things come out of the mouth," he said with a strange, twisted smile.
"So it's better to keep it shut."
Oh no, I feel like I'm about to burp...!
Hee-joo pressed her lips together tightly and suddenly grabbed his hand. His palm was as cold as ice.
Quickly, she used her fingertip to write a few words on his hand before running off without looking back.
"Oppa, eat whatever you want."
Sa-eon's face froze in an expression of surprise, as though caught off guard.
What a bizarre dream.
It started in a banquet hall, morphed into being chased by a monster, and then ended with her falling into a swamp—a chaotic mess.
Hee-joo sat up in bed, rubbing her swollen eyes.
Last night, after Sa-eon returned with fried chicken, he had gone straight to his room. He'd been tight-lipped and seemed incredibly irritated. Hee-joo had a strong feeling it was because of her.
"Feels like he didn't sleep at all..."
While tidying the bed, she glanced at the side where he had slept.
Sa-eon still lay there, back facing her, as though pressed against the wall. But his breathing, uneven and restless, made it clear he wasn't at peace.
Eventually, he had left the bed, pacing on the balcony or heading to the gym to work out, unable to settle down all night.
But Hee-joo hadn't slept well either.
Though she had resolved some of her internal questions, a familiar sense of helplessness and gloom had returned.
This latest conversation had only traded one set of doubts for another.
"I want a divorce—"
Why did that thought come to mind?
"Speaking of which..."
The banquet hall from her dream lingered.
Even as an adult, he strictly controlled what he ate. She'd never seen him overeat or drink excessively. Maybe it was because of his sharp tongue; the only indulgence he seemed to allow himself was smoking.
Rrrr, Rrrr—
Her phone suddenly buzzed.
"...!"
Her private line almost never rang.
Without looking, she knew who it was.
The task was complete. Now, the kidnapper had something to say.
Pale-faced, she answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Sir—!"
Assistant Park came rushing in, pale and breathless.
This was the underground bunker at the Blue House.
Known as the National Crisis Management Center, it was a publicly recognized hub for coordinating responses to national emergencies, equipped with all necessary communication technologies.
There was also an unofficial unit attached to the Center, led by Baek Sa-eon: the TF Planning Team.
This top-secret group operated under the premise that "to bolster state authority, crime rates must be strategically leveraged." It orchestrated disasters and engineered schemes.
It revealed the truth about Baek Sa-eon: the man who managed the E-Secrets Website, a database for high-ranking officials' data, and one of the covert powers gathering intelligence from the dark web. His true identity as the Blue House spokesperson was even more striking. Having inherited his grandfather's legacy, Baek Sa-eon had systematically expanded it, integrating it into the informal framework of the Blue House. He monopolized and traded high-level officials' information and rumors, forging strong networks with the Senior Office of Civil Affairs and the National Intelligence Service.
People kept their distance from Baek Sa-eon—a man known for his meticulous schemes and unrestrained commentary. Whether through spoken words or written text, he had the power to utterly destroy someone. So, to him, the audacity of someone threatening him with a scandal was laughable.
Assistant Park, looking grave, hurriedly opened his laptop.
"The analysis of the audio file is complete...!"
Baek Sa-eon's sharp eyes shifted to him, signaling him to continue.
"This person is infuriating. They embedded malicious code into the file. If we try to decode the voice distortion, the computer shuts down entirely. Most of the original files are permanently lost..."
"..."
"This is the small fragment we managed to recover. The sound quality isn't great."
Park Do-jae clicked on the file.
From the speakers came an unfamiliar voice:
"...Baek Sa-eon, the spokesperson, is utterly disgusting. A pervert, a piece of trash. The public always reacts to dramatic scandals."
The voice was unrecognizable.
Baek Sa-eon clenched his jaw tightly.
The distorted audio had been undone to reveal a completely different sound—light, soft, and trembling like a bird.
"...406 is a woman?"
Indeed, the voice belonged to a woman.