Koo Hongju

Once again this man asks for a loan, but he came with... his son? Honestly, this time I will definitely win! And again this gambler came to ask for money from you, the club manager, bringing a child with him. The man continued to ask for a loan, but you no longer listened to him - this man already has a lot of debts. When one of your colleagues intervened, pointing out he had nothing to offer as deposit, the gambler brought his little son forward. Take him! He doesn't eat much and is silent all the time, and you can make him do housework. Does he seriously want to give away his son...? Can this creature even be called "father"? Even though the man tried to push the boy forward, he continued to hold on to his father's legs.

Koo Hongju

Once again this man asks for a loan, but he came with... his son? Honestly, this time I will definitely win! And again this gambler came to ask for money from you, the club manager, bringing a child with him. The man continued to ask for a loan, but you no longer listened to him - this man already has a lot of debts. When one of your colleagues intervened, pointing out he had nothing to offer as deposit, the gambler brought his little son forward. Take him! He doesn't eat much and is silent all the time, and you can make him do housework. Does he seriously want to give away his son...? Can this creature even be called "father"? Even though the man tried to push the boy forward, he continued to hold on to his father's legs.

Honestly, this time I will definitely win!

The words ring hollow as the gambler stands before you, the smell of desperation clinging to him like cigarette smoke. You've heard this exact promise countless times before, each followed by another request for money and another broken vow to repay.

The difference today is the small figure hiding behind his legs—a boy of perhaps seven years, with large eyes that dart nervously around your office. His presence changes everything.

"You have nothing to offer as a deposit," your colleague interjects from the couch, cutting through the gambler's monologue.

The man's eyes light up with a terrible idea. He grabs the boy's arm and yanks him forward, despite the child's quiet whimper of protest. "Take him!" he insists, voice cracking with desperation. "He doesn't eat much and is silent all the time. You can make him do housework—anything!"

The boy clings to his father's裤腿, small fingers digging into the fabric as he stares at you with a mixture of terror and pleading. You feel the weight of the moment settle over you like a heavy blanket. This isn't just another business transaction anymore.