Chapter 6 - Inside the Fortress
The drive took them away from the bustling chaos of the market and up into the winding, forested hills overlooking Haeundae Beach. Here, hidden behind towering stone walls, wrought-iron gates, and state-of-the-art security cameras, sat the Gene Estate—a sprawling modern architectural masterpiece of glass, concrete, and minimalist luxury.
Ify sat stiffly on the edge of the plush leather seat, clutching her handbag as if it were a shield. Pretty, on the other hand, pressed her nose against the tinted window, gazing out at the manicured gardens and reflecting pools with quiet fascination.
“His house is very big,” Pretty remarked. “He must have a lot of dust to clean.”
Kang-dae, sitting in the front passenger seat, let out a sudden, involuntary snort of laughter before quickly coughing to cover it up. Ify shot her daughter a look that could have melted steel.
When the car glided to a halt beneath the grand portico of the main entrance, the heavy double doors swung open. Standing at the threshold was Alex Gene himself. He had discarded his suit jacket, wearing a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing the dark, intricate tattoos climbing up his skin.
He looked less like a syndicate boss and more like a high-end corporate CEO—until you caught the cold, predatory intelligence in his dark eyes.
As Ify stepped out of the car, her legs felt like lead. She bowed hastily, unable to meet his gaze directly. “Mr. Gene… thank you for having us. Please forgive us for coming, we didn't mean to intrude—”
“You are not intruders, Mrs. Nanya,” Alex’s low, resonant voice interrupted smoothly. He stepped forward, his gaze shifting past Ify to the small figure stepping out behind her.
Pretty stood on the pavement, adjusted her glasses, and looked Alex up and down with critical scrutiny.
“Good evening, Alex,” she greeted him politely. “Your hair is neat. That’s good.”
Alex’s lips twitched slightly. A rare, genuine flicker of amusement danced in his dark eyes.
“Good evening, Pretty,” he replied, his voice softening just a fraction. “Welcome to my home. And thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome,” Pretty said, walking right past him into the grand foyer, her single mismatched sock and crooked backpack contrasting sharply with the multi-million-dollar minimalist interior. She stopped and looked around, nodding approvingly. “It’s very clean. No dust at all. Do you have a robot vacuum or a housekeeper?”
“Both,” Alex answered, following her inside with Ify trailing nervously behind like a startled fawn.
“That’s efficient,” Pretty concluded.
Dinner was served in a private dining hall overlooking the sparkling lights of Haeundae Bay. The table was laden with an extravagant spread of traditional Korean delicacies, bulgogi, fresh seafood, and delicate side dishes. Yet, despite the luxury, the atmosphere was surreal.
Ify sat on the edge of her chair, barely touching her food, terrified of making a wrong move.
Alex, noticing her discomfort, spoke in a calm, reassuring tone. “Please eat, Mrs. Nanya. The chef prepared everything fresh. No one will bother you here.”
Ify swallowed hard and nodded, taking a small bite of rice.
Across the table, Pretty was eating with great focus and discipline. She chewed her food thoroughly, swallowed before speaking, and used her chopsticks with neat, precise movements.
Alex watched her quietly. “You have good table manners, Pretty.”
“My mother taught me,” Pretty said instantly, pointing her chopstick toward Ify with absolute pride. “She says manners show respect for yourself and the people around you. Even if they are big and scary.”
Ify choked on her water, coughing softly while patting her chest. “Pretty! Apologize to Mr. Gene immediately!”
“It’s quite all right,” Alex said, holding up a hand to stop Ify. A faint, melancholic shadow passed over his features. “She is entirely right. I lacked manners for a very long time.”
Pretty tilted her head, studying his face across the candlelight.
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“You know,” she said softly, her childish voice carrying a profound weight that defied her years, “it’s never too late to learn. My teacher says anyone can change if they decide to stop being stubborn.”
Alex stared at the little girl, feeling as though those words had bypassed his ears and struck straight at the core of his soul. For the first time in his life, the impenetrable walls of the Busan underworld felt remarkably small.
