The Youngest Son of Sunyang Chapter 1

h.e.l.lo everyone,

We've yet another new project to introduce to the Bastion. The Youngest Son of Sunyang, written by MountainView. Please support the series by purchasing it on Munpia.

Furthermore, it will be translated by our new savior translator Jane, who is new to the translation scene. If you'd like to support the continuation of the translation, please drop  some chapter comments or support Jane's official Patreon. (Patreon goals possibly added later) 

Without further ado, here is the first chapter.

“Who were you talking to on the phone so long?”

There came a sharp voice of a lady as I set the phone down, burying my head in a pile of doc.u.ments on my desk.

Although I was well aware of whose voice it was, I raised my head as slowly as possible as if I felt worn out.

The curve of her hips over the edge of my desk came into my sight first, and tracing the beautiful outline of her body with my eyes, I could see her slim waist and ample b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

d.a.m.n!

I examined whether her bra size was a C cup, wis.h.i.+ng I could touch them once.

Especially, the line where her neck and shoulder met was so graceful and looked as if an artist had drawn.

At last, her oval, beautiful face met my eyes.

Why hadn’t she become an actress? I wondered.

“You’ve got a call on line 3 holding,” she said.

The line 3 brought me back down to earth and sobered me up.

“Yeah, thanks,” I said.

“He says it’s urgent,” she said, turning her back to me.

As she walked away from me, her skin-tight skirt enhanced the outline of her hips, and her legs looked like they were ten miles long. Smooth, sleek, and toned.

 

‘If only I could sleep with her.’ I mumbled inwardly. But I doubted this would ever happen. She is the vice-chairman’s personal a.s.sistant. Most of her colleagues are aware that she is no ordinary personal a.s.sistant.

She lives in a high rise residential building whose fees of $3000 a month, and drives a Ferrari.

No wonder the vice-president offered her such luxury.

When he was born as the son of the chaebol, he was granted the opportunity to grow up surrounded by beautiful women, and date and sleep with them.

“d.a.m.n it! Line 3.”

I rushed to the phone and pressed 3. An insipid dial tone transitioned to a draggy voice.

“Will you bring my car back? I left it somewhere in Nonhyun,” he said without the least sense of urgency. And he hung up. d.a.m.n him. I slammed down the phone.

I picked it up again and dialed a number.

“Choi, find his car in Nonhyun now,”

“Yes, sir.” Choi said and hung up.

Choi wouldn’t ask how to find the car. Because he knew that cops and bystanders already swarmed around it like bees.

This b.a.s.t.a.r.d is the son of the vice chairman and grandson of the chairman. I and Choi knew by experience that he either had done drugs, or had got drunk and had got behind the wheel. And his car either had hit a roadside store or a street lamp.

He fled, leaving his car behind, and called me.

I prayed that he had not hit a person.

I instantly texted.

[It’s Yun, Sunyang Chaebol. I always appreciate your support and encouragement. Thank you.]

 

Local news reporters were well aware of what the text meant. It was expected that It was only a matter of the thickness of the wad of cash according to the seriousness of the incident.

The incident witnessed by the bystanders would go viral only on SNS, and before long, it would eventually fade away. And it would never be spotted in newspapers.

 

30 minutes went by, Choi texted me.

[Furniture store. $70,000.]

 

d.a.m.n b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Because of his explosive temper, he just lost a large amount of money that would take me over a year to earn.

Who cares? His money, not mine.

It was almost the end of another hectic day. Hoping I could get off work on time, I thought about my wife’s gift as it was her birthday.

I needed to think up something good enough to make up for lost times.

But everything would not go according to plan.

As if on cue, the phone rang.

Clearing my throat, I picked up the phone. It was the chairman’s personal a.s.sistant.

“The old lady will go shopping. Go a.s.sist her,” he said.

“But won’t she be attended by her retinue…”

“d.a.m.n it! Just go! She will go to the L department store. That is why,”

Again?

It was funny that she liked her rival department, more than hers.

“Yes, sir.” I said.

“She will browse a new Italy brand. be there before her and block public access to it.”

“Yes, sir” I said, subduing my urge to sling the phone in the bin.

‘I neither went to university to learn how to carry shopping bags nor studied hard to clean up other’s messes.’ this thought made me feel anger blaze.

But I didn’t have the nerve to disobey either.

Suppressing my anger, I darted toward the department store.

 

Two cars entered the VIP parking lot.

The seventy-something-year-old would always brag about her slim figure and smooth skin that she had invested her money and effort in.

The old lady was clad in a tight dress and boots. Hideous.

“You came early!” she said with a smile.

My head sank low without saying a word. I knew that a little while later, her smile would turn into a frown. If a size 11 dress didn’t fit, she would throw tantrums.

Three male guards and one female secretary escorted the old lady.

I slung to the secretary’s arm and asked.

“Who is that guy?”

“Oh, be quiet,” she said.

She shook her head, knitting her brows.

“Ah,”

Oh, well. That granny hired her new, young guard.

It was obvious that her children got their strong s.e.xual appet.i.te from her.

 

As soon as the VIP lift arrived on the floor of the store, the old lady frowned.

“Still open to the public?” she said aloud with obvious irritation in her voice.

d.a.m.n it. I forgot.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I will take care of it right away.”

I summoned and told off the store manager.

“Are you out of mind? You don’t know who she is?”

“I’m sorry but, who is she…?” The manager seemed frightened by the old lady and her guards in slick suits.

“She is the wife of Sunyang chaebol chairman. I told you earlier, block public access to the store before she arrived.”

This would always work.

Managers were aware that a VIP customer complaint could directly hurt their careers.

A VIP like her would spend an amount of money equal to the amount spent by 100 ordinary customers in a day. She could manipulate the store manager’s life.

The manager apologized with a bow and said,

“Yes, sir. Right away.”

As soon as the public access was blocked, the old lady entered the store with a satisfying smile.

Her secretary was busy presenting her with the clothes selected by her.

“What do you think?” the old lady asked.

“The color is so vibrant…”

“Not you.” she cut the manager short, then her gaze s.h.i.+fted to her new guard.

“Mr. Kim?”

The good-looking man named Kim was smiling.

“I think everything on you looks chic,” Kim said.

‘What? Chic? Anything on that granny looks cheap!’ I held back a snort.

His compliment made the old lady happy.

“Try on ma’am. I’m sure you will look beautiful in it,”

“You think so?”

The old lady went into the fitting room. After a little while,

“Mr. Kim, could you help me zip up my dress?”

I thought I’d heard wrong at first. She called her new male guard, not her female secretary.

My guess was accurate. Kim was not a guard, but the granny’s new toy.