Thriving After Divorce
Episode 6
Episode 6: Gathering Evidence (1)
What could be more profitable than knowing the future right now?
I calm my heart trembling with anger and think carefully. Rather than throwing myself into an exhausting fight, this line of thinking seemed much better.
The sound of fierce wind pounds on the break room window.
Far away, Metropolis shines brightly even amidst the snowstorm. Beneath it, countless apartments. Minju must be fuming behind one of those lights glowing floor by floor.
I push back the hatred constantly leaking out and force myself to look at my smartphone. First, I split and transferred 500 million won of the 1 billion into my account.
Though the sum is no small amount, thanks to the smooth server, numbers one would be hard-pressed to see in a lifetime settle calmly into 'my account.'
"It still hasn't broken through the 150 line."
The figures changing in real time tremble frantically, but none of them make a deep impression.
Compared to a few years ago, the current price is already enough to make one's eyes spin. But to me, who knows it'll skyrocket before long, it's an amount that makes me scoff.
"Hoo... If it's 1.2 million won... It should be close to the average price."
I recall the days when I was interested in and studied cryptocurrency.
Bitcoin begins to soar after April 30th. The highest price until then is roughly 1.5 million won. The average price before that, if I remember correctly, was less than 1.3 million won.
Then 1.2 million won is a price neither too high nor too low. It's not a complete steal, but it's a price range worth buying. If I match my average purchase price to this level, even selling at the shoulder would be quite profitable.
For now, I placed buy orders of 100 million won each.
[Beeeeep.]
Shortly after finishing automatic buy orders divided into 10-million-won intervals, vibrations ring out.
Beeep, beeep, beeep, beeep—the sounds come in succession. Were transactions always this fast?
Even though I set them in 10-million-won increments, this damn market swallows my money in the blink of an eye.
"Was cryptocurrency always this active? Either way, the quick-witted ones were busy buying and selling."
I truly feel what period I'm in.
With the vibrating sounds subsiding, I look at the chart again and see that over half the orders have already been executed. My heart pounds like crazy. Pleasant emotions surge up wildly.
I bought 100 million won in an instant. If I just leave it like this, it'll easily exceed 2 billion won by early January.
It simply didn't feel real.
"Yo, Kim Pro."
I turn my body hastily at the sudden voice. Hiding my smartphone behind me and looking toward the voice, I see a familiar face.
"Have you eaten, Manager Park?"
"I eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner here, after all. It's all for the peace of the household."
Household peace. Manager Park isn't even in his forties yet, but his face looks like that of a typical middle-aged salesman. A common middle-aged man with a balding head, protruding belly, and plump face.
"I happened to overhear earlier; it seemed like you were fighting with your wife."
"Yes, haha. Well, yes."
So he was eavesdropping after all. Men that age are unusually interested in their surroundings. While malicious attention is often burdensome, fortunately Manager Park is the well-meaning type.
"Kim Pro, as someone who... No, as a marriage senior giving you a piece of advice, ahem! Ahem, unconditionally apologize humbly admitting you were wrong. Buy something on your way home, apologize, and serve her well. If you start off on the wrong foot with the Minister of Home Affairs from the newlywed stage, there's really no answer. You've heard it, right? A harmonious home leads to success in all things."
"Ah, yes. That's right, yes."
"Marital quarrels are truly like cutting water with a knife. Yep, that's exactly right. Kim Pro, that's just what married life is. If one side doesn't yield, it never ends. A man needs to know how to yield. Youngsters these days are so used to competition that they hate losing... Ahem, well, anyway, a man must yield—or rather, keep his mouth shut—for peace to come to the household, I tell you. It'll be even more so when you have kids."
Manager Park's lengthy speech continued. Usually quiet, but when lecturing about life, he becomes a fluent orator as if wings have sprouted—one could say he's that type.
I nod moderately and examine Manager Park's haggard appearance. A greasy face, a forelock charging in reverse, a worn-out dress shirt, eyes steeped in fatigue. Not a single one looks like the countenance of a married man.
But if I remember correctly, he's a veteran? dishwasher who has been married for over 10 years. Perhaps because his wife is also a full-time homemaker, he preaches about the importance of family whenever he gets the chance. As if a full-time homemaker wife is absolutely necessary because the family is so precious. It's a bit sad that such an important wife doesn't even prepare breakfast, though.
Actually, after about 10 years, one develops a conviction regardless of satisfaction. The moment you deny a marriage that has already become part of you, your own life is denied as well. Isn't it a tragic fate, seen from near or far?
"Yes... Yes, listening to you, Manager, marriage really doesn't seem easy."
"Of course, of course... If it were that easy, would everyone be getting divorced like that? Just enduring without splitting up is an incredible feat."
For some reason, Manager Park's eyes, seemingly filled with melancholy, sparkle in the light. I turn my head briefly and cast my gaze at the cityscape shrouded in darkness.
To such devoted husbands, is the forest of apartments in Dongtan City providing a warm home?
Based on my experience, certainly not.
* * *
I gulp dryly. My heart, which I had barely calmed, threatens to lurch again.
It's close to midnight. But my wife is often awake at this hour. Watching Netflix or browsing communities on her phone, etc. She has plenty of excuses.
Go Minju explains that she has too much to do during the week, so she barely has time only at night. It's normal for her to fall asleep only at 2 or 3 AM, so getting up in the morning was out of the question.
Preparing for an argument, I open the front door wide. Inside the dark house, a quiet and cold living room greets me.
"I'm home."
I announce my arrival, however quietly. She'll know anyway. I put down my bag and change clothes. At a glance, she seems to be home. A small noise comes through the crack of the firmly shut bedroom door.
Should I open the door and talk first? Or wait until I'm fully prepared? Raising my blood pressure after washing could be harmful to my health. But arguing right after coming home isn't great either. I decide to wash up first.
[Shhhhhh.]
Hit by the hot water, my half-gone mind returns. My current situation and plans. Kim Bongjin on a thorny path or a tightrope. A funny thought crossed my mind for a moment.
[Click.]
"Hmm?"
The unlikely expectation became reality. The master bedroom door is locked.
"Why don't you open the door?"
"......."
The unmoving handle coldly blocks my approach. I try knocking and raising my voice, but there's no response whatsoever. Only a faint, incomprehensible sound seeps out.
Probably YouTube.
She seems to be properly sulking. She wouldn't normally take such a defensive stance, because it's a matter of daring to defy 'that' Kim Bongjin. Perhaps she's flustered by the stubborn attitude she's seeing from me for the first time. Looking back, Minju has a knack for reading the room. In deploying suitable tactics according to the time and opponent, she is virtually a Zhuge Liang.
Considering that, it seems she's chosen silence as her strategy this time. She's probably trying to evade the situation and counterattack at another opportunity.
"Do whatever you want."
Better this than raising my blood pressure late at night. To some extent, this level of fight was predictable from any angle. A fight that started with good momentum. I have no reason to refuse it. The side that apologizes first is bound to lose.
"Let's see who wins."
I express my dissatisfaction very quietly. Concentrating on the sounds, I stealthily move back and forth between the kitchen and living room. There are no particular signs from behind the firmly closed door. I repeatedly glance at the door and collect the voice recorders hidden throughout the house.
It's better to place them temporarily only on suspicious days rather than leaving them up all the time. Since the recordings have no legal validity anyway, it's better this way than getting caught and suffering embarrassment. Except for a few very cleverly hidden devices, I collected all the recorders. There's one in the master bedroom too, but I can retrieve that when it opens tomorrow.
I open the laptop in the living room, keeping one eye on the master bedroom. I connect the recorder to the booted computer. The adapter plugs in, and shortly after, the recorded files are uploaded. Since it recorded for several hours, the file size is substantial. But fortunately, I have time to spare right now. The master bedroom has a bathroom, so Minju won't suddenly come out. If by any chance she comes out and asks what I'm doing... that won't happen. Because I'll only take out one at a time.
Is it because I'm doing something rather secretive? Despite the peace I so desperately sought, cold sweat threatens to flow from tension. Though the living room is chilly, for some reason my whole body grows hotter and hotter.
"Hurry, hurry, please...."
I keep shifting my gaze and watching the master bedroom.
After uploading the last file to the cloud, I hurriedly pull out the adapter and gather the recorders. I need to hide them where Minju can't find them. I stuff them deep inside my work bag, then erase the traces on the laptop. Only after deleting every internet access record do I find relief.
Looking at the clock, it's already past 1 AM. I catch my breath and head to the small room. Then I close and lock the door ostentatiously. I intend to show Minju a taste of tit for tat for the time being.
* * *
Even while sleeping, the anxious feeling in one corner of my heart kept pulling at me. But even after opening my eyes, the expected round two didn't happen.
"You're up? Eat breakfast before you go."
Minju always employs a strategy that catches me off guard. It was an absurd scene considering I opened the door fully tensed. That's why the flustered one was actually me. And for good reason—the moment I opened the door, I was faced with Minju wearing an apron she'd never used in her life and clumsily preparing breakfast.
"Uh."
Is this poisoned? I look around suspiciously, but I can't tell at all. I reluctantly take a bite, but it doesn't seem particularly strange. I chew and swallow roughly a few bites, then turn my head. Still, it's better to address it. Even if it devolves into an argument.
"Hey, about yesterday..."
"Forget it. I'm sorry. I went too far. Right? I'll be careful from now on."
The model answer left me with nothing to say instead. What is this? What is she thinking?
But men—no, Kim Bongjin is a simpler creature than he thinks. My weakness was that the built-up emotions would melt away in the face of plausible goodwill.
Even while washing up and packing to leave, my wife unusually came out to see me off at the door. This too is something not in my memory.
"Have a good day. Drive carefully."
She even smiles brightly. Even after the front door closed, I was dumbfounded for a while.
What kind of scheme is this? Or did she really reflect that much? No, no matter how much I think about it, this is an act. Then what is this act for? A new style of emotional warfare? Pity play? My head is complicated.
But one thing is certain: there's another scheme. Because the proposition that Go Minju, as I know her, could be reformed is one that cannot exist in this world.
That's why I didn't go to the bus stop today. I wanted to think alone a bit more. For that, taking the car, which guarantees at least a little personal space, is perfect.
[Beep.]
Sitting in my seat, I think of my wife once more. That smile, kindness, friendliness. Can those concepts really be juxtaposed with Minju? What purpose did she have?
"Huh?"
A smell of unknown origin briefly clouded my mind. Though it's plastered with air freshener, a subtly wafting smell seeps through. A familiar fragrance stinging the tip of my nose.
"No way."
I hurriedly click the dash cam. The time is last night. I search through the files. My fingers move busily here and there, scanning through various time slots. My heart begins to race like crazy.
"Bingo... Found the answer."
It's gone. No, I'm certain. Only a specific time slot is missing.
Why would the dash cam suddenly have only a specific time slot deleted? Well, there are countless possible answers. But not for me.
"Alright, Go Minju. Got you."