when the phone rings novel

"Spokesperson Baek Sa-eon, Candidate Baek Yi-ryong's approval rating is plummeting in real-time...!"

"Please address the rumors of infidelity! Why haven't you denied them? Does your silence mean you're acknowledging them?"
"Spokesperson Baek Sa-eon, please look this way!"
"Take the shot, quickly!"

Baek Sa-eon moved swiftly through the entrance, avoiding the throng of reporters, and entered the memorial hall for Baek Jang-ho. The incessant calls from his parents were ignored without a glance. As he stepped deeper into the hall, the cacophony of noise faded away.

"All preparations are complete."

Park Do-jae, who had somehow followed him unnoticed, handed him a headset.
"We'll be providing specific instructions from our side. Ah... what's wrong?"

Baek Sa-eon didn't put on the headset immediately. Instead, he stared intently at Park Do-jae, who tilted his head in confusion. Baek Sa-eon let out a brief smile before putting on the headset.

"Park Do-jae, ever since our days at Korea University, we've shared many of the same classes, academic societies, and external activities."

The normally distant and polite Baek Sa-eon had suddenly adopted a tone of familiarity, leaving Park Do-jae wide-eyed in surprise.

"Do you know why I brought you on as my personal assistant?"

"..."

"Because I wanted to control everything that happens behind the scenes."

"...!"

Even as Park Do-jae's face stiffened, Baek Sa-eon nonchalantly adjusted his attire. Straightening his cuffs and aligning his tie, his gaze fixed firmly on the assistant.

"I'll handle things here. You go to the screening room and manage the reporters there. If you have the chance, take a look at Baek Jang-ho's documentary."

"...What?"

"Thank you for your hard work."

With that, Baek Sa-eon ascended the steps and took the stage. Park Do-jae clenched his fists tightly, glaring at him before disappearing down the steps.

Today marked the premiere of the special documentary on the late Baek Jang-ho, the first time it was being shown to the media. However, Baek Sa-eon had deliberately scheduled his press conference at the same time, drawing a mix of reporters from social, political, and cultural desks into the venue.

"—There he is, the spokesperson...!"

Flashes erupted like sparks, but his expression remained emotionless.

As he surveyed the crowd, his thoughts lingered in Hee-joo's room. His Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily.

"Spokesperson Baek Sa-eon!"
"Please explain the rumors of infidelity first!"
"Who was the woman in the obscene phone call? What is her identity?"
"Why wasn't the woman's voice in the recording? Is there an original recording?"

The shouts around him grew louder, but his mind was consumed with thoughts of Hee-joo. He hoped she wouldn't be hurt. Anything that posed a threat to her—be it his name or something else—was something he wouldn't tolerate.

Now, it was time to eliminate this long-standing source of anxiety once and for all.

As he prepared to address the reporters—

"Did you hear that?"

"...!"

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice came through the headset. The voice...

Baek Sa-eon didn't flinch, maintaining his composure as he began his opening remarks.
"Good afternoon, everyone. I am Baek Sa-eon."

"Yes, it's me. How have you been?"

It was the voice from their first call, before any voice modulation. It was unmistakably the voice of the real Baek Sa-eon, presumed dead.

"You seem to be doing well. My life, though, is absolute hell."

As Baek Sa-eon reached to remove the headset, the voice sharply rose.

"Try taking it off, and I'll kill you, you son of a bitch...!"

He's watching.

Baek Sa-eon calmly calculated his next move.

"If you take it off, Hong Hee-joo will be torn apart."

This bastard.

He clenched his jaw so tightly it felt like it might shatter. The true grandson of the late Baek Jang-ho, this man's nature was vile. Known for his cruelty from a young age, he had reportedly killed and dissected a cat at four years old. Baek Jang-ho had discovered the child staring innocently at his bloodied hands.

"When I was young, I only played with pitiful, adorable things."

"..."

"Hong Hee-joo is just as perfect."

The voice continued with cruel words, yet the tone remained light and mocking.

"I'm going to erase every trace of you left in my name. Damn it all. But Hong Hee-joo, living as your wife, is an eyesore. I'm planning to start over completely!"

Hearing this, Baek Sa-eon's eyelids twitched involuntarily.

"So don't take off the headset."

"..."

"You'll do exactly as I say."

Baek Sa-eon felt his breathing grow shallow as he tugged at his tie slightly.

"Admit all your sins here, and then step down."

If he didn't deal with this man, Hee-joo would remain a target forever.

"—Say it in front of everyone."

"......"

"—Reveal your true identity."

Listening to the low, excited voice in his ear, the man's lips curved into a subtle smile.

I'm sorry, but today, the name Baek Sa-eon will cease to exist. No one can use it at will.

"When your reputation is destroyed, this name will return to me."

Finally, the two lives, destined to collide, had crossed paths.

The first time he met the white-haired Representative Baek Jang-ho was when he was twelve, during a day spent in silent company with his reticent father.

The boy had no name. He was born near the water, where his father, a fisherman, lived in a shabby shack by the fishing grounds. The place reeked of fish.

By the lake in the early morning, his father spent his days meticulously cleaning his fishing rods, threading wriggling worms onto hooks—day after day. The fishing grounds had only one customer: Representative Baek Jang-ho.

Every time Baek Jang-ho came, he would scrutinize the boy's body and face, as if measuring how much he'd grown. Although his face remained expressionless, the boy, with his sharp intuition, could sense a strange mixture of satisfaction and unease beneath the old man's gaze. At first, he didn't understand what it meant.

Nevertheless, his father always bowed his head first and occasionally joined Baek Jang-ho on a boat for long trips.

"Father, did you and that old man throw something into the river?"

"...!"

Under his father's silent gaze, the boy added, "I saw it. You threw something in."

"Don't ask questions."

"But Father—"

"I'm not your father. Don't call me that."

"......"

His father mechanically continued to thread worms onto hooks.

I'm just a fisherman, nothing more.

Even if he was a discarded child, it was likely he would grow up to be just like this man—thick-bearded, broad-built, threading worms onto hooks at the water's edge.

One day, Baek Jang-ho brought another boy, an upper elementary student.

"This is my grandson."

The boy, about the same age as him, smiled brightly.

"I'll steer the boat today. Can I borrow one?"

His father nodded silently.

As the boat drifted across the water, the boy ran along the hill. It was a circular lake, so no matter how far he went, the water's path was the same.

Plop—!

He saw a large bag sink into the river. Once it submerged, it never resurfaced.

Is it filled with rocks?

After that, the grandfather and grandson came every weekend. Each time, they tossed a heavy bag into the water. The grandson always laughed cheerfully, while Baek Jang-ho's expression grew darker and darker.

Over time, the boy grew accustomed to their strange behavior.

One night, close to midnight.

"...!"

The boy awoke abruptly. It sounded like a fierce struggle with a strong fish, splashing water everywhere. The sound reverberated through the night like a pulse.

Frowning, the boy picked up a flashlight and stepped outside. Darkness enveloped everything.

By the water, he saw someone standing.

Is it that old man?

He thought it was someone fishing barehanded in the middle of the night. But as he approached, his grip on the flashlight faltered.

"...!"

The flashlight fell to the gravel with a crisp sound.

Baek Jang-ho turned sharply, his eyes bloodshot. His once neatly combed white hair was now a wild mess. His pants were soaked to his knees, his sleeves wet up to his elbows.

"What are you doing...!"

"Don't come any closer," Baek Jang-ho panted heavily.

At his feet, his grandson—the boy who always smiled so brightly—was thrashing in the water, desperately struggling.

Only then did the boy grasp the full scene.

"What are you doing!"

He rushed forward, grabbing Baek Jang-ho's leg to stop him. But Baek Jang-ho shoved him away and continued forcing the struggling grandson back into the water.

"Stop it!"

"Don't interfere!"

His shout was filled with fury, his eyes wild as if possessed.

"This monster... This monster must stay here...!"

"...!"

"It's for everyone's sake!"

The white-haired old man's strength was that of a young man. Baek Jang-ho pressed his grandson deeper into the water, his grip unwavering.

The boy shouted loudly, "Father! Father!" while scratching at Baek Jang-ho's arms, but the lights in the dilapidated wooden shack never turned on.

Gradually, the sounds of struggling in the water grew fainter and fainter.

"..."
"..."

Then, as if time itself had frozen, everything went silent.

The boy stared at Baek Jang-ho in disbelief, his body stiff and unable to move. This moment was nothing short of a nightmare.

But Baek Jang-ho merely cast a cold glance at his grandson, now drifting downstream, before turning away mercilessly and walking off.

"Spokesperson Baek Sa-eon, Candidate Baek Yi-ryong's approval rating is plummeting in real-time...!"

"Please address the rumors of infidelity! Why haven't you denied them? Does your silence mean you're acknowledging them?"
"Spokesperson Baek Sa-eon, please look this way!"
"Take the shot, quickly!"

Baek Sa-eon moved swiftly through the entrance, avoiding the throng of reporters, and entered the memorial hall for Baek Jang-ho. The incessant calls from his parents were ignored without a glance. As he stepped deeper into the hall, the cacophony of noise faded away.

"All preparations are complete."

Park Do-jae, who had somehow followed him unnoticed, handed him a headset.
"We'll be providing specific instructions from our side. Ah... what's wrong?"

Baek Sa-eon didn't put on the headset immediately. Instead, he stared intently at Park Do-jae, who tilted his head in confusion. Baek Sa-eon let out a brief smile before putting on the headset.

"Park Do-jae, ever since our days at Korea University, we've shared many of the same classes, academic societies, and external activities."

The normally distant and polite Baek Sa-eon had suddenly adopted a tone of familiarity, leaving Park Do-jae wide-eyed in surprise.

"Do you know why I brought you on as my personal assistant?"

"..."

"Because I wanted to control everything that happens behind the scenes."

"...!"

Even as Park Do-jae's face stiffened, Baek Sa-eon nonchalantly adjusted his attire. Straightening his cuffs and aligning his tie, his gaze fixed firmly on the assistant.

"I'll handle things here. You go to the screening room and manage the reporters there. If you have the chance, take a look at Baek Jang-ho's documentary."

"...What?"

"Thank you for your hard work."

With that, Baek Sa-eon ascended the steps and took the stage. Park Do-jae clenched his fists tightly, glaring at him before disappearing down the steps.

Today marked the premiere of the special documentary on the late Baek Jang-ho, the first time it was being shown to the media. However, Baek Sa-eon had deliberately scheduled his press conference at the same time, drawing a mix of reporters from social, political, and cultural desks into the venue.

"—There he is, the spokesperson...!"

Flashes erupted like sparks, but his expression remained emotionless.

As he surveyed the crowd, his thoughts lingered in Hee-joo's room. His Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily.

"Spokesperson Baek Sa-eon!"
"Please explain the rumors of infidelity first!"
"Who was the woman in the obscene phone call? What is her identity?"
"Why wasn't the woman's voice in the recording? Is there an original recording?"

The shouts around him grew louder, but his mind was consumed with thoughts of Hee-joo. He hoped she wouldn't be hurt. Anything that posed a threat to her—be it his name or something else—was something he wouldn't tolerate.

Now, it was time to eliminate this long-standing source of anxiety once and for all.

As he prepared to address the reporters—

"Did you hear that?"

"...!"

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice came through the headset. The voice...

Baek Sa-eon didn't flinch, maintaining his composure as he began his opening remarks.
"Good afternoon, everyone. I am Baek Sa-eon."

"Yes, it's me. How have you been?"

It was the voice from their first call, before any voice modulation. It was unmistakably the voice of the real Baek Sa-eon, presumed dead.

"You seem to be doing well. My life, though, is absolute hell."

As Baek Sa-eon reached to remove the headset, the voice sharply rose.

"Try taking it off, and I'll kill you, you son of a bitch...!"

He's watching.

Baek Sa-eon calmly calculated his next move.

"If you take it off, Hong Hee-joo will be torn apart."

This bastard.

He clenched his jaw so tightly it felt like it might shatter. The true grandson of the late Baek Jang-ho, this man's nature was vile. Known for his cruelty from a young age, he had reportedly killed and dissected a cat at four years old. Baek Jang-ho had discovered the child staring innocently at his bloodied hands.

"When I was young, I only played with pitiful, adorable things."

"..."

"Hong Hee-joo is just as perfect."

The voice continued with cruel words, yet the tone remained light and mocking.

"I'm going to erase every trace of you left in my name. Damn it all. But Hong Hee-joo, living as your wife, is an eyesore. I'm planning to start over completely!"

Hearing this, Baek Sa-eon's eyelids twitched involuntarily.

"So don't take off the headset."

"..."

"You'll do exactly as I say."

Baek Sa-eon felt his breathing grow shallow as he tugged at his tie slightly.

"Admit all your sins here, and then step down."

If he didn't deal with this man, Hee-joo would remain a target forever.

"—Say it in front of everyone."

"......"

"—Reveal your true identity."

Listening to the low, excited voice in his ear, the man's lips curved into a subtle smile.

I'm sorry, but today, the name Baek Sa-eon will cease to exist. No one can use it at will.

"When your reputation is destroyed, this name will return to me."

Finally, the two lives, destined to collide, had crossed paths.

The first time he met the white-haired Representative Baek Jang-ho was when he was twelve, during a day spent in silent company with his reticent father.

The boy had no name. He was born near the water, where his father, a fisherman, lived in a shabby shack by the fishing grounds. The place reeked of fish.

By the lake in the early morning, his father spent his days meticulously cleaning his fishing rods, threading wriggling worms onto hooks—day after day. The fishing grounds had only one customer: Representative Baek Jang-ho.

Every time Baek Jang-ho came, he would scrutinize the boy's body and face, as if measuring how much he'd grown. Although his face remained expressionless, the boy, with his sharp intuition, could sense a strange mixture of satisfaction and unease beneath the old man's gaze. At first, he didn't understand what it meant.

Nevertheless, his father always bowed his head first and occasionally joined Baek Jang-ho on a boat for long trips.

"Father, did you and that old man throw something into the river?"

"...!"

Under his father's silent gaze, the boy added, "I saw it. You threw something in."

"Don't ask questions."

"But Father—"

"I'm not your father. Don't call me that."

"......"

His father mechanically continued to thread worms onto hooks.

I'm just a fisherman, nothing more.

Even if he was a discarded child, it was likely he would grow up to be just like this man—thick-bearded, broad-built, threading worms onto hooks at the water's edge.

One day, Baek Jang-ho brought another boy, an upper elementary student.

"This is my grandson."

The boy, about the same age as him, smiled brightly.

"I'll steer the boat today. Can I borrow one?"

His father nodded silently.

As the boat drifted across the water, the boy ran along the hill. It was a circular lake, so no matter how far he went, the water's path was the same.

Plop—!

He saw a large bag sink into the river. Once it submerged, it never resurfaced.

Is it filled with rocks?

After that, the grandfather and grandson came every weekend. Each time, they tossed a heavy bag into the water. The grandson always laughed cheerfully, while Baek Jang-ho's expression grew darker and darker.

Over time, the boy grew accustomed to their strange behavior.

One night, close to midnight.

"...!"

The boy awoke abruptly. It sounded like a fierce struggle with a strong fish, splashing water everywhere. The sound reverberated through the night like a pulse.

Frowning, the boy picked up a flashlight and stepped outside. Darkness enveloped everything.

By the water, he saw someone standing.

Is it that old man?

He thought it was someone fishing barehanded in the middle of the night. But as he approached, his grip on the flashlight faltered.

"...!"

The flashlight fell to the gravel with a crisp sound.

Baek Jang-ho turned sharply, his eyes bloodshot. His once neatly combed white hair was now a wild mess. His pants were soaked to his knees, his sleeves wet up to his elbows.

"What are you doing...!"

"Don't come any closer," Baek Jang-ho panted heavily.

At his feet, his grandson—the boy who always smiled so brightly—was thrashing in the water, desperately struggling.

Only then did the boy grasp the full scene.

"What are you doing!"

He rushed forward, grabbing Baek Jang-ho's leg to stop him. But Baek Jang-ho shoved him away and continued forcing the struggling grandson back into the water.

"Stop it!"

"Don't interfere!"

His shout was filled with fury, his eyes wild as if possessed.

"This monster... This monster must stay here...!"

"...!"

"It's for everyone's sake!"

The white-haired old man's strength was that of a young man. Baek Jang-ho pressed his grandson deeper into the water, his grip unwavering.

The boy shouted loudly, "Father! Father!" while scratching at Baek Jang-ho's arms, but the lights in the dilapidated wooden shack never turned on.

Gradually, the sounds of struggling in the water grew fainter and fainter.

"..."
"..."

Then, as if time itself had frozen, everything went silent.

The boy stared at Baek Jang-ho in disbelief, his body stiff and unable to move. This moment was nothing short of a nightmare.

But Baek Jang-ho merely cast a cold glance at his grandson, now drifting downstream, before turning away mercilessly and walking off.