[Young Master. I’ve taken care of it as instructed.]
It was the message he’d been waiting for all day. Since morning, Lee Han-seo had done nothing but refresh his phone screen, waiting for contact from Chief Seo. Finally, his furrowed brow relaxed, and a small smile tugged at his lips.
As he tapped out a reply with both thumbs—tap, tap, tap—something gently brushed his lips. Without looking, he opened his mouth.
A spoonful of glossy white rice topped with savory grilled fish slid in. He chewed slowly, and right on cue, a concerned voice chimed in.
“It doesn’t taste good? Why aren’t you eating? It’s croaker—your favorite.”
“Mm-mm, no, it’s great. Really, really good.”
Good work. After you pass them my number, block theirs too, Chief Seo. Han-seo quickly sent the message and turned his full attention to the meal.
Even though Park Woo-jun had effectively been betrayed by the people he believed were his family, he still wore that same bright, innocent smile. As if he’d let go of every childhood grievance and moved on completely, like none of it ever happened.
The truth was, Woo-jun had never been directly involved with those people in any meaningful way. And now that Han-seo had cut ties for good, there was no need to see them again. With everything so neatly settled, Han-seo didn’t have a strong reason to lash out—at least not in front of Woo-jun.
So, he put on a cheerful face and played along. Let’s just live happily, the two of us. That’s what he said. But inside, Han-seo was furious. The anger boiled so hot, he couldn’t even sleep at night. Especially after reading that email from his father, Attorney Lee Yoon-jae.
The people Woo-jun thought were his parents were actually his biological father’s younger brother and his wife. When the young couple died in a tragic accident, leaving only their three-year-old son behind, Woo-jun’s maternal family had no one left to take him in.
His maternal grandmother, now deceased, had been in a nursing home at the time. His paternal grandparents had already passed away.
No one could’ve known the uncle’s true intentions when he stepped forward, pretending to be a loving guardian while eyeing the wealth left behind by his older brother. He offered to adopt Woo-jun—not out of love, but because becoming his legal guardian would have complicated the process of accessing the inheritance. Full adoption was simply more convenient.
With crocodile tears and shameless words, the couple claimed it was a blessing the child was too young to remember anything, promising to love him twice as much for his late father’s sake. Their performance was convincing enough to fool even the assigned lawyer and the family court.
Since it had been a full adoption, not just a guardianship or standard adoption, even Woo-jun himself had no idea. When he entered the Esper Affairs Center and submitted his family register, there was nothing on the document to hint at the truth.
But once the paperwork was finalized and they realized the inheritance didn’t go as far as they hoped, the couple essentially abandoned him. They neglected him, treated him like a burden, and raised him like some unwanted stray.
Looking back through his elementary school records and medical files, it even seemed they had physically abused him—at least until he grew big enough to defend himself. A few times, his homeroom teacher had reported suspected abuse to the police, only to later retract the complaint.
The day after Han-seo uncovered the full truth, he sprang into action. He didn’t say anything openly—he didn’t want Woo-jun to dwell on the past—but given Han-seo’s personality, Woo-jun seemed to have a good idea of what was coming.
When Han-seo tossed and turned all night, seething with fury, Woo-jun simply turned away and pretended to sleep—quietly allowing Han-seo to do whatever he felt he needed to do.
The first thing Han-seo did was get Park Seon-jun fired. The man had only landed the job thanks to Han-seo’s influence anyway. Firing him was easy.
The company president had long wanted to fire the man—an employee too proud to be useful, and too useless to keep around. He admitted he’d only held back out of consideration for Han-seo, and readily accepted the request.
It took less than five minutes and a single phone call.
The second move was just as easy. Han-seo put his apartment on the market at a reasonable price. The very apartment where the trio was currently living.
Once the landlord realized the tenants were living there for far below market value, he naturally informed them that their deposit would increase significantly once the lease expired.
The lease had originally been set for one year—Han-seo had intended to let them try living there before handing it over entirely—but now? It had worked out perfectly. With only six months or so left on the contract, where were they going to scrape together hundreds of millions of won?
They had liquidated everything and moved to Canada, hoping to start fresh. But the Dungeon Break wiped them out—house, car, everything gone. Overnight, they were left penniless.
Insurance coverage for Dungeon Breaks and other disasters barely amounted to anything. The fact that they’d suddenly contacted Korea again was telling—it wasn’t about family. They were just looking to benefit from Woo-jun… or more accurately, from Han-seo standing beside him.
The whole process had taken less than two weeks. Technically, he hadn’t even started taking real revenge yet—all he’d done was retract the benefits he’d once handed out. But even that much felt deeply satisfying.
And he had no intention of stopping here. That’s why he’d passed along his number through Chief Seo. Knowing how shameless they were, they were probably feeling wronged and indignant by now, completely unaware of how far out of line they’d stepped.
Sadly, too much time had passed, and there wasn’t enough physical evidence to prosecute them for what they’d done to young Woo-jun. So Han-seo had decided—he’d give them something new. A fresh crime to answer for.
He’d already cleared it with Attorney Lee. From now on, any phone calls or messages would be recorded or screenshotted and uploaded in real-time to a shared cloud folder with the law firm.
Even as they continued eating, calls started pouring in from unfamiliar numbers. Amusingly, many of the numbers ended in the same four digits—like some sad, matching set.
Humming cheerfully, Lee Han-seo flipped his phone over and set it down. His latest request to Chief Seo had been simple: make sure those people understood exactly why Park Seon-jun had lost his job. Judging by how fast they were scrambling to respond, it was working beautifully.
“Woo-jun, can I get another bowl?”
“You really like it, huh? That’s a relief. You hadn’t been eating much, so I was getting worried. There’s another croaker too, so go ahead and eat as much as you want. Want me to get you more soup?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
Han-seo took a sip of water, then readied himself for round two. He might not be starving anymore, but as long as the main dish was still on the table, there was no way he’d be the first to walk off the ring.
***
“You can’t just hike up the deposit out of nowhere—it’s not like it’s pocket change! Where the hell are we supposed to come up with that kind of money?!”
– Look, try to see it from my side, okay? I don’t know why the last owner rented it out so cheap—that’s their issue, not mine. I’m not running a charity here. If you can’t match the new deposit, then move out. And if it’s really that bad, I’m willing to help cover your moving costs. That’s the best I can offer.
“Excuse me?!”
– That’s it from me. I’ve got nothing more to say. Goodbye.
The other party’s tone was sharp and unwavering, their final words slicing through the air like a guillotine. No matter how desperate they sounded on this end, there wasn’t a hint of hesitation from the voice on the other side of the line.
“Jun. So? What happened? Are they really going to raise the deposit?”
Just as Park Seon-jun was staring at his phone, still processing the one-sided disconnection, his mother’s cautious voice called out from behind him. He gave a stiff nod, and she pressed further.
“Sigh… Still no word from Woo-jun? You said you went to see him at the Center the other day. Did you… do something to upset him?”
Upset him? That barely covered it. The surprise firing, the sudden rent hike—what else could it be but payback for how badly things went that day?
But admitting it out loud, taking the blame, letting himself be scolded—Park Seon-jun wasn’t about to do any of that. As far as he was concerned, he was the one who’d been wronged. So what if he looked down on Woo-jun and brushed off his Bonded Pair? It wasn’t personal—it was just how he was taught. That’s what everyone around him believed, and he’d just followed suit.
“So that was it. Why’d you do it? Let’s just go back to the Center. Find Woo-jun and apologize. If we just apologize, he’ll say it’s fine. Then Lee Han-seo will either get us another place, or Woo-jun will cover the deposit himself!”
“Ugh, I said it’s not like that! And why the hell should I apologize to that bastard? I didn’t even do anything wrong!”
“If you didn’t do anything wrong, then why’d you get kicked out of your job?!”
“How the hell should I know?! Maybe that lunatic Lee Han-seo’s off his meds or something!”
Fuming, Park Seon-jun slammed the door to his room behind him like he was making a dramatic escape.
It was the first time in his life that his parents—who’d always taken his side, no matter what—had told him to bow his head and apologize to Park Woo-jun. All over some stupid job and a pile of money.
For someone who’d been treated like a golden child his entire life, it was an unthinkable humiliation. And he wasn’t about to accept it.
