The dead of night.

Mun-jong Lee came to Pyeongchang-dong, where the lights were burning bright.

Once inside the house, Mun-jong Lee went straight to the study.

And to Tak-hyeon Lee, who was waiting there smoking, he made his greeting to say that he was back.

"I'm back."

"Yes."

Grinding his cigarette out in the ashtray, Tak-hyeon Lee turned to Mun-jong Lee.

"What did they say?"

Tak-hyeon Lee went straight to the point.

"Well, it's…"

Mun-jong Lee hesitated a moment, as though at a loss, and then said,

"They say they have no intention of going easy."

"I had no intention of asking them to. Is that all?"

"It isn't that, but…"

"If it isn't, then say it plainly. What is it that keeps you from getting it out?"

Tak-hyeon Lee shouted in exasperation.

At Tak-hyeon Lee's badgering Mun-jong Lee swallowed dryly and opened his mouth again.

"They want us to give them a solution."

"A solution?"

"Yes."

Mun-jong Lee nodded and said,

"The Blue House, they say, is under heavy public criticism at present for having been drawn into this Ilhyeon Windows business. A solution that would get them clear of that criticism… is what they told us to produce."

"Madmen. Why demand a solution from us? They mean to put Sang-jong through the courts in any case, don't they? Are they telling me not to interfere with it?"

"…They seemed to want us to put up rather more than that."

"More than that? Such as?"

"I couldn't say. I don't know that much."

Mun-jong Lee shrugged and shook his head, professing ignorance.

"You—"

Tak-hyeon Lee was about to rebuke him — was it good enough to go and speak with them in person and come back saying he did not know?

Because the sight of Mun-jong Lee standing there unruffled and saying he did not know struck him as absurd.

But Tak-hyeon Lee held back the rebuke.

It had occurred to him that expecting much of Mun-jong Lee was his own fault to begin with.

"Never mind. Thank you for going out so late."

"What do you mean to…