Side Story 1. Choi Sang-hyuk
“Where does a bastard child of a concubine think he gets the right to talk back? Just because we share blood, do you really see me as your brother?”
A cold, contemptuous gaze slashed through his chest. But a heart that had long been numbed felt no pain at all.
“Teach him a lesson.”
The very idea of calling that bastard ‘brother’ was nauseating. He left behind a mocking smirk as he turned away. At the same time, the men surrounding him closed in.
Thud-. Thud-. Thud-. Thud-.
These men, who lived by violence, knew exactly how to inflict pain without crossing the line into death. Every part of his body became a target. Fists, feet, and various blunt weapons pounded into him without restraint. The only sensation left in his battered flesh was pain. But his dull heart still felt nothing.
Since he wasn’t putting up a fight and just quietly taking the beating, the men quickly lost interest. Spitting at the tattered mess that was Choi Sang-hyuk, they soon scattered and disappeared. Left sprawled on the cold, filthy cement, he lay still, waiting for his body to start moving again. The hard ground beneath him was both freezing and unyielding.
Only after a long while did he finally manage to gather himself. Enduring the searing pain that wrapped around his entire body, he staggered to his feet. But there was nowhere for him to go. That luxurious house was no refuge for the son of a concubine—it was a den of tigers.
With an unsteady gait, Choi Sang-hyuk began wandering aimlessly. The stares of passersby bore into him, but he paid them no mind. He had long grown accustomed to the looks of disgust and scorn that clawed at his heart. He couldn’t even remember the last time he felt the warmth of human kindness.
No, that wasn’t entirely true. If he searched his memory, there was a time—long ago. When he was very young, living with his birth mother, life had been good. She was a woman who lived for her son, overflowing with affection. If only she hadn’t passed away in that accident, maybe he could have spent his days in that same warmth.
As he wandered, night fell. His swollen face ached as if it would burst, and his entire body creaked with pain. Limping, he searched for a place where he could rest, even for a moment. Eventually, he found himself in a narrow alley within a residential area and slid down against a wall.
A heap of garbage was piled up nearby. Choi Sang-hyuk picked up a broken mirror lying next to it and peered into it. His bruised and swollen face was blotched with discoloration, making him look like a monster straight out of a movie. Even if his birth mother were standing before him now, she wouldn’t be able to recognize him.
His clothes and body were covered in brownish stains from his nosebleed and the wounds all over him. It was no wonder people recoiled in horror and avoided him on the street. Leaning his head against the wall, he gazed up at the narrow strip of sky visible from the alley. Beneath that sky—where even the stars were few—he was utterly alone.
He didn’t know how long he stayed like that. His entire body had begun trembling slightly from the cold.
Step. Step.
The sound of approaching footsteps grew closer.
Choi Sang-hyuk shifted his eyes toward the sound of footsteps. In the darkness, a shadow approached, carrying a large garbage bag.
“Holy shit! Fuck, that scared me.”
The shadow let out a startled yell upon spotting Choi Sang-hyuk sprawled next to the pile of trash. Then, hesitantly, the figure took a few cautious steps closer to examine him. The dim light from a nearby streetlamp illuminated the shadow’s face—a pale, youthful face, probably that of a middle schooler.
For a moment, Sang-hyuk was taken aback by how strikingly pretty the boy looked. A small tear mole under one of his eyes stood out. The boy, eyes wide with shock, scanned Sang-hyuk up and down, then suddenly hurled the garbage bag into the pile and took off running with hurried steps, disappearing into the night.
Sang-hyuk turned his gaze back to the sky. He wondered what meaning there was in this miserable, wretched existence of his. If he was just going to be treated like the bastard child of a concubine, they should have just dumped him in an orphanage. Why had they dragged him into that tiger’s den, only to leave him to suffer like this?
No. He actually knew why. His family operated on strict meritocracy. They threw all the tiger cubs together, expecting them to bite, tear, and fight amongst themselves. In the end, the last one standing would become the next successor. Of course, no one cared about the ones who got ripped apart in the process.
That was why his half-siblings were so desperate to crush him. With the label of “concubine’s bastard” stuck to him, he was deemed the weakest of the litter—a target they could strike down at any moment. But Sang-hyuk had no intention of handing over his life to them. He simply endured, curling inward, swallowing every humiliation and insult, biding his time until he could sink his teeth into their throats.
And yet… he was starting to feel tired. Even if he endured, even if he seized his chance and crushed them all, would that life have any meaning? Would rising to the top make his numbed heart warm again? Or had he already been broken beyond repair?
Step. Step. Step.
Footsteps again. This time, they sounded a little more hurried.
When he turned his head, the pale face from before reappeared. In his hands was a plastic medicine bottle.
“Damn, looks like you really got the shit beaten out of you. Your face is straight-up Frankenstein.”
The crude words didn’t match the boy’s delicate features at all. Sang-hyuk blinked his swollen eyes, struggling to keep them open. The simple motion must have looked painful because the boy grimaced. Then, without hesitation, he popped open the medicine bottle and began smearing red antiseptic all over Sang-hyuk’s battered face.
“I’ve had my face busted open a shit-ton of times too, so I know—this red stuff works best. But hey, are you in the mob or something? Normal people don’t get beat up this bad and then just hide in a random alley instead of going to the cops. Are you on the run? Man, I better not get dragged into some shady shit because of you.”
The boy had a lot to say. Despite clearly being younger, he spoke to Sang-hyuk with complete disregard for formalities, tossing out casual speech like it was nothing. His rough, cocky way of talking didn’t match his pretty face at all, but somehow, it oddly suited him.
“You got any money? If you do, I can take you to a motel nearby.”
“What, you got no money? Can’t talk? Are you mute? Or do you just not wanna say anything?”
The pale-faced boy chattered on. But when he still got no response, he let out a deep sigh.
“If you stay out here in the cold, you’re gonna freeze to death. Seriously, you got no money? No place to go?”
Growing impatient, the boy leaned in close, peering at him. He really didn’t seem the least bit scared or disgusted by Sang-hyuk’s Frankenstein-like face.
“Ah, fuck. I can’t just leave you like this….”
The boy ran a rough hand through his hair, looking completely exasperated, like he’d just taken on a huge headache. He stared at Sang-hyuk for a moment, clearly debating something, then clicked his tongue and stood up. Without hesitation, he grabbed Sang-hyuk’s arm and tugged.
“Get up. You can crash at my place for tonight. My dad… isn’t coming home today, so the house is empty.”
Sang-hyuk looked at the boy with mild disbelief. This little brat—what the hell was he thinking, offering a place to stay to someone he didn’t even know? Just a minute ago, he’d been running his mouth about gangs and not wanting to get involved in trouble, but now he was acting completely different.
“Ugh, I don’t have the strength to lift a guy your size. Get up on your own.”
The boy huffed in irritation. Sang-hyuk pushed himself up against the wall, staggering to his feet. Instead of offering support, the boy simply grabbed his wrist and pulled. The sight of that small, pale hand gripping his bloodstained wrist burned strangely deep into his mind.
Not entirely sure why he was even following along, Sang-hyuk limped after the boy. In truth, his wallet was stuffed with cash—one of the few perks of surviving in that tiger’s den. The boy, seemingly frustrated by his slow pace, kept glancing back and tugging on his wrist. It hurt to walk faster, but Sang-hyuk did his best to keep up, dragging himself toward the boy’s house.
It turned out to be just a few steps away, right beside the alley. As soon as they stepped through the front door, the boy shoved Sang-hyuk straight into the bathroom.
