Morning had barely broken through the window, casting a pale light across the room.

Lying on his back, Soo-Jin emerged from a restless sleep, his eyelids heavy, stuck together with exhaustion. A shiver ran through his battered body before he was even fully aware of the pain.

He inhaled with difficulty.

Each breath triggered a dull, deep ache along his ribs.

When he tried to move, a groan escaped him.

Clenching his teeth, he managed to roll onto his side, grunting in pain.

He stayed there for a moment, unable to do more.

The ceiling wavered above him.

It took several long minutes for Soo-Jin to gather enough strength to sit at the edge of the bed.

His legs trembled. A steady burning radiated from his side, stabbing with every movement.

He closed his eyes, swallowing with difficulty.

Summoning what energy he had left, he opened the medicine cabinet, took his pills, and dragged himself to the bathroom.

Every step drew a grimace.

He filled a glass with water, swallowed the pills, then slowly peeled off his shirt, the fabric stuck to his skin with dried blood.

Under the harsh light, his side appeared, streaked with black and purple bruises.

In front of the cracked mirror, he wrapped his arm with a trembling hand, tying the bandage as tightly as he could, before washing up quickly, not lingering.

His reflection stared back at him with a lifeless gaze, consumed by fatigue.

“It’s not that bad… It’ll pass,” he muttered, without truly believing it.

But it was the only thing he could tell himself to keep going.

Because moving forward was all he knew how to do.

The front door creaked shut as Soo-Jin stepped outside, the street still empty at this early hour. He pulled on his long coat, hood down to conceal the bruises on his face.

He had no choice but to work today. Staying home wasn’t an option.

When he arrived at the construction site, his coworkers greeted him kindly, their familiar tone offering him a meager form of comfort.

“Hey Soo-Jin, how you feeling today?”

“I’m fine. And you?”

Soo-Jin smiled faintly, trying to hide the pain still coursing through him.

“Yeah, we’re good,” another replied with a shrug.

They all exchanged greetings like usual, and when it was time to get started, Soo-Jin stepped forward and picked up a tool.

“Uh, you’re planning to work dressed like that? In this heat?” Minho asked, slightly concerned.

“Uh… yeah. Caught a bit of a cold yesterday… Nothing serious,” he lied, barely masking the pain that made his teeth clench.

“Today’s gonna be a long one. Boss said we’ll get a decent bonus depending on how long we stay. Normally I don’t like working overtime, but… no way I’m missing that chance, haha,” said Park

Soo-Jin gave a tired smile—a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“You staying late too?” Park asked, a bit too curiously.

“Yeah. Until sunset,” Soo-Jin replied without meeting his gaze. He needed the money too.

Suddenly, he went pale.

“You sure you’re okay, Soo-Jin? You look kinda… off.”

“It’s just some fatigue, nothing to worry about.”

He waved it off with a small gesture, as if brushing the discomfort aside.

“Shall we get to it?”

They all got to work.

Each motion was slower than usual. His arms shook under the weight of the tools, but he couldn’t stop.

He kept working, forcing himself to ignore the persistent pain.

During breaks, he bent slightly, catching his breath.

The heat under the coat became unbearable, but he refused to take it off.

A few hours later, just as the job seemed never-ending, the foreman arrived.

He scanned the group, his gaze instantly locking on Soo-Jin, who was beginning to sway slightly under the weight of pain and heat.

The long-sleeved coat Soo-Jin wore despite the heat didn’t escape his attention.

“Soo-Jin,” the boss called, gesturing for him to come over.

Hiding a grimace beneath a neutral expression, Soo-Jin approached.

The foreman crossed his arms.

“What’s with the coat? You’re not dressed properly for this job.”

Soo-Jin lowered his gaze and gave the same excuse.

“Uh… caught a chill last night, so…”

“Work gear is mandatory. It’s for your own safety.”

“Please. I have a good reason for keeping it on. It’s not by choice.”

“No. Rules are rules. We can’t risk any accidents. Take it off.”

Under the pressure of the moment, Soo-Jin had no choice but to relent. He sighed deeply.

“But…” He hesitated for a moment, then glanced back at his coworkers still busy behind them.

“I’d like to speak with you in private, if that’s okay.”

The foreman raised an eyebrow. “Alright. Follow me.”

They walked together to the office, away from the others.

Once inside, Soo-Jin slowly took off his coat, doing his best not to appear too weak.

The foreman’s expression froze the moment he saw him—his ribs, arms, and face were covered in bruises, clear signs of violence.

“What the…” the man stammered, visibly shocked. Then, regaining composure, he asked, “What happened?”

Soo-Jin closed his eyes for a moment, reluctant to say much.

“I ran into trouble yesterday. Nothing serious.”

He tried to sound nonchalant, but even to himself, it rang hollow.

The foreman didn’t look away.

“Ran into trouble?” he repeated, then added more sternly, “Were you attacked? Why didn’t you say something earlier? Do you know who did this?”

“No. I don’t know them. It was random. Really, it’s nothing to worry about.”

He carefully avoided revealing any details that might bring more problems.

But the foreman’s concern only deepened.

“You should’ve told me before coming in like this. How do you expect to work in that condition?”

Soo-Jin did his best to maintain composure.

“I didn’t have a choice. That’s why I’m here.”

The foreman shook his head, determined.

“No. You’re taking time off. I want you to rest until you recover.”

“You need to go to the hospital. Take care of yourself now, or…” He paused. “If you collapse here, it’ll be far worse.”

Soo-Jin clenched his fists and protested.

“I can still work. I’m useful.”

“No,” the foreman cut in firmly. “This isn’t up for debate.”

Soo-Jin looked down. He knew the man was right. Then he murmured,

“Alright. But… please don’t say anything to the others. I don’t want them worrying about me or losing focus.”

The foreman didn’t respond right away, but his gaze softened.

“Don’t worry. It’ll stay between us.”

“Thank you.”

Soo-Jin got dressed again and left the office in silence.

The foreman remained inside, mulling over what he’d just seen.

“That kid… he’s really going through something. What drives him to work like this, in that state? Should I ask him? No… he must have his reasons. He’s one of our most reliable guys—this’ll be the first day he’s ever missed work. Maybe even the whole week. He’s got such bad luck.”

“When he’s back… I’ll bump up his pay a little, to help out.”

Outside the office, Soo-Jin’s thoughts swirled as he rejoined his coworkers.

“Hey, the boss called you over earlier. Everything okay? Or was it something good?” Minho asked.

Soo-Jin glanced at his coat, still on, concealing the marks that would’ve explained his sudden departure.

He straightened up, trying to appear more confident.

“No, nothing’s wrong. He just told me to head home. Said I might get sick if I keep working like this, which means… I won’t get paid for the extra hours.”

“Yeah, figured you weren’t doing so great. Honestly, I’d have said the same thing in his place. Don’t worry about it, man. Health comes first,” Minho said, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

A jolt shot through Soo-Jin’s body. He clenched his teeth.

“Looks like we’ll have to get by without you today.”

Minho exchanged a glance with Park, then looked back at Soo-Jin.

“Get some rest, alright?”

“Yeah. I’ll do that.”

He felt a pang of guilt for keeping them in the dark, but he didn’t want to burden them.

He turned toward the exit, ready to leave the site.

“See you tomorrow, guys.”

Soo-Jin left the construction site with slow steps.

But he didn’t head home.

After about an hour of silent walking, he stopped in front of a small, inconspicuous house tucked between two buildings.

He hesitated for a moment, hand raised before the door, then knocked three times—short, firm taps.

Footsteps echoed behind the door