Report
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Griffin Scans
Translator – Hero of death
Proofreader – Sleepyhead
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Chapter 3 - The Suspicious Client (2)
Even after nearly two hours and about ten buses had passed, his father still hadn’t shown up.
Taejun glanced at the clock hanging inside the restaurant as he looked up at the now darkening sky. It was already 8:30.
Just as he was anxiously shifting his feet, unsure of what to do, he spotted his father getting off a bus in the distance.
“Dad~!!”
Usually, his father would greet him with a cheerful “My little genius!” the moment he saw him. But that day, his father came to a halt with a stiff expression.
“You little rascal. Do you know what time it is? What are you doing here?”
“I was waiting for you. Why are you so late today?”
“I’ve been swamped with work lately. Have you eaten dinner?”
Taejun nodded silently. His steps on the way home felt heavier than ever.
As he walked beside his weary-looking father, Taejun began to feel more and more uneasy the closer they got to the stationery store.
He wanted to talk about the toy. But seeing how visibly tired his dad was, he decided to just quietly walk past it.
Even as young as he was, he knew how to read the mood.
But just as they passed the front of the store, something unexpected happened.
“Well, there you are! I was just about to close up after waiting for you two all day.”
At the sudden appearance of the store owner, Taejun’s hand which had been holding his father’s hand began to tremble.
At that moment, his father’s rough hand tightened around his.
Startled, Taejun looked up. But instead of scolding him, his father quickly turned to the store owner with an apologetic smile.
“I’m so sorry. I had a late shift today. You must’ve waited a while.”
Just moments ago he looked completely worn out, but now he was smiling brightly as he gently led his son into the store.
“Looks like this rascal waited at the bus stop because there’s a new toy out, huh?”
“Dad…”
Taejun, his voice trembling, looked up at his father, who gently stroked his back and picked up a few of the new G.I. Commandos.
“How much are these?”
“2,500 won each. So 7,500 won total.”
Taejun’s father pulled a 10,000 won bill from his wallet and paid without hesitation.
“You’re a lucky kid. Be good to your dad and study hard.”
“Yes, sir…”
Clutching the bag of toys, Taejun never forgot that day—even as many years passed.
His father’s wallet, which was always as thick and full as a piggy bank, had looked unusually thin that night.
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“2,500 won each… Doesn’t seem like much now, but back then a bowl of jajangmyeon was only 1,000 won. That was an expensive toy…”
Pushing aside the half-eaten bowl of jajangmyeon, Taejun studied the toy in his hand.
Nowadays, a single-use takeout bowl of jajangmyeon costs anywhere between 4,500 to 6,000 won.
Adjusting for inflation, a single G.I. Commando figure would now be worth around 15,000 to 18,000 won.
The father who used to secretly buy him those expensive toys behind his mother’s back… passed away a few months after that incident due to stress-induced illness.
His mother, who returned home for the sake of her only son, worked at various restaurants before she too passed away suddenly in an accident.
A hit-and-run.
There were no witnesses, and the case ended without a single clue. Just like that.
Afterward, Taejun was taken in by relatives and grew up enduring constant tension and discomfort.
The G.I. Commando figures—so full of memories of his father didn’t survive the rough treatment of his older cousins.
Rubber waistbands snapped, fingers broke off… and when those broken toys lay scattered on the floor, his aunt wouldn’t hesitate to strike him with a stick.
Maybe it started then.
Fixing those broken toys with his own hands… maybe that was his way of holding onto the last remnants of his parents.
And maybe that’s what led him to become a figure restoration expert.
“Those years were awful… really…”
Taejun lit a cigarette with a long sigh.
He had learned too young that even a modest life could crumble in an instant.
He wondered, If the old man hadn’t brought G.I. Commando figures, would I have been able to say no more easily?
But he already knew the answer.
When the old man walked away at the door, all Taejun could see was the back of his own father, paying for his toy with a nearly empty wallet.
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As expected, the customer who came back over the weekend to pick up the Hulkbuster figure tried to haggle every last won off the repair fee.
Taejun had dealt with plenty of difficult clients before, but none this persistent.
Unable to get any other work done, he finally gave in, settled for 250,000 won, and practically kicked the guy out.
Even then, the man complained it was too expensive and threatened to post bad reviews online.
After finally sending him away, Taejun lit another cigarette, his nerves completely shot.
“Unbelievable…”
He felt like an idiot for wasting last week obsessing over how to fix that thing.
After taking a long breath to calm himself down, Taejun reached for the box the old man had left behind.
“Thought it’d take forever… but I’m almost done now.”
He removed each joint with a screwdriver, soaked them in enamel thinner to strip the paint, and repainted them—something that had actually become quite fun for him.
Strangely enough, the G.I. Commando figures the old man had brought were all the characters he had loved as a child.
Especially Snake Eyes—dressed entirely in black and oozing charisma—Taejun’s favorite.
Stripping off the tacky original paint and bringing his own imagination into the process, the restored figures now looked better than he’d ever imagined.
“…Honestly, I think I outdid the original.”
He even added silver accents to the unpainted weapons, giving them a sleek finish.
He was proud of his work… but one worry lingered.
What if the old man wanted them restored exactly like before? Did I overdo it?
If the old man rejected the figures, he might have to start over from scratch.
Taejun stared at the G.I. Commando figures for a moment, then took out his phone and began taking pictures.
[Here’s how I restored them. What do you think?]
He sent the message along with the photos and tapped his fingers against the table as he waited for a reply.
But even after an hour, there was no response.
“Maybe he’s busy…”
Giving up, he returned to continue his work.
By the time the red glow of sunset began streaming in through the window, Taejun put down his tools, hunger gnawing at him.
“I’m starving…”
Working alone often meant skipping meals without realizing it. Now in his late 30s, he noticed his fingers trembling from the empty stomach.
He wasn’t quite old enough to call himself old, but he wasn’t young anymore either.
“Come to think of it, My father was around the same age now as when he passed away.”
“Or was he even younger than me? Hah… whatever. Let’s figure out dinner first…”
As usual, he picked up the phone and expertly dialed his go-to Chinese restaurant to order a bowl of jajangmyeon.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford more but jajangmyeon was just the easiest meal for one person.
And these days, places willing to deliver just a single bowl were rare.
Most food apps required a minimum order of 10,000 won or more for delivery, which severely limited his options.
“I’ll finish the rest after I eat.”
Shoving the half-finished project aside, Taejun flopped onto the sofa to wait. Before long, the doorbell rang.
“It’s open~!!”
Creak.
Just like last time, Taejun grabbed his wallet and headed for the door, expecting the delivery guy.
But instead of the delivery man, the oldman from before was standing there.
“This door is always open, isn’t it?”
With a pleasant smile directed at him, Taejun stood frozen, dumbfounded.
“Why is it that every time I order jajangmyeon… he shows up?”
~~~~~~~~~~Chapter End~~~~~~~~~~~~
