“Baby, baby. We’re being lazy today—how about we just have some bread for breakfast?”
Lee Han-seo rolled himself onto the living room couch and looked up at Park Woo-jun as he spoke. He wasn’t the one making breakfast anyway, so it wasn’t like he had a reason to complain. Maybe he really just wanted bread.
He wondered if they still had any of that sliced bread they’d frozen before going into the dungeon. As Woo-jun tried to recall, he gently patted Han-seo’s head. “I’ll check the fridge. Be right back.”
“I can heat it up too, you know. Should I make breakfast today?”
“No thanks, Mr. Caterpillar. Just keep rolling around like that.”
“Hehe… being a caterpillar’s kinda nice.”
The guy who’d been glaring like he was ready to kill someone just a moment ago was gone without a trace. Smiling, Han-seo wriggled deeper into the couch cushions.
Woo-jun had been halfway to the kitchen, but the sight was too cute to ignore. He turned back, bent over the couch, and tapped his cheek with a finger. “Kiss.”
“Wow, look at you, Park Woo-jun. All grown up now.”
“Huh? What is?”
“Don’t you remember? The first time I kissed you, you were so shocked you almost fainted. And now you’re tapping your cheek and asking for one?”
“If I’m gonna keep raising you, I need to get something out of it.”
“Fair point.”
“Right? So hurry up.”
He tapped his cheek again. Han-seo burst out laughing and messed up Woo-jun’s hair with both hands. His hair puffed up, making his already soft features look even more gentle.
Smooch. Smack, smooch. Long kiss. Not just his cheek, either. Han-seo kissed his nose, forehead, even his long eyelashes—anywhere his lips could reach. Woo-jun grinned, clearly satisfied.
They wrapped up breakfast with some jam-covered toast and overly sweet lattes loaded with syrup. It was just then that Woo-jun’s wristwatch pager started blaring.
[Massive wildfire in Northern Gyeonggi. Urgent request for S-Class Nature Affinity.]
The message couldn’t have been more direct. It was clearly aimed at Park Woo-jun. Still, if it was just wildfire containment, all he had to do was cut off the oxygen at the designated spots. A simple task, and definitely better than being dragged into a dungeon at dawn.
“Want me to come with you?”
“Nah, you barely slept. Take it easy today, Han-seo.”
“Alright. Be safe.”
“I will. I’ll be back soon.”
It didn’t sound too dangerous, and the location wasn’t far either. Han-seo felt at ease letting him go alone. Just to be safe, he checked Woo-jun’s guiding state one last time before sending him off with a smile.
A warm shower washed away the last traces of drowsiness. Drying his hair with a towel, Han-seo habitually reached for his phone, still plugged into the charger.
He’d silenced it a few days ago, sick of the nonstop calls. Even now, his inbox was still crammed with desperate messages and missed calls.
“…Perfect timing. Maybe it’s finally time to meet them.”
Meeting them while Woo-jun was around would’ve been too much. And by now, they had to be clawing the walls with impatience. Once Han-seo made up his mind, he followed through—no matter what.
He never, ever wanted to put Park Woo-jun in front of those bastards again. Even if Woo-jun said it was all in the past, even if he claimed he was fine—Han-seo loved him. As his partner, his other half, he couldn’t bear the thought of it.
Staring at the screen, Han-seo checked the time and answered one of the calls.
“Hello, this is Lee Han-seo.”
— …!
For a moment, there was only silence. It must’ve been the first time any of their constant calls had actually gotten through. They clearly hadn’t expected him to pick up. On the other end, someone gasped like they’d seen a ghost. No one said a word.
“Hello?” Han-seo asked again.
— M-Mom! He answered! That bastard actually picked up!! Wh-What do I say?! I don’t know, you talk to him! Hurry!
Ha. ‘That bastard’? From the way they were talking, it was clear they still hadn’t learned a damn thing. Pathetic. Han-seo bit back a laugh and decided to say what he needed to without sparing a second for their chaos.
“I’ll give you thirty minutes. Be at the visitation room by then. Park Seon-jun knows where it is. Oh, and it’s best if all three of you come. After today, we won’t be seeing each other again—so if you’ve got something to say, say it all at once. I’m hanging up now.”
— W-Wait! Hold on, just—!
After hanging up, Lee Han-seo immediately called the front gate security team to reserve the visitation room. Normally, appointments had to be scheduled at least a day in advance, but the moment he mentioned that Team Leader Park Woo-jun’s family would be visiting, the staff member bowed so low over the phone you could practically hear their head hit the floor—and cleared out the entire day’s schedule without question.
Han-seo took his time getting ready. He styled his hair with care and pulled on a perfectly tailored suit that hugged his frame in all the right places. He didn’t just throw something on—he handpicked everything, down to the necktie, shoes, and wristwatch.
He hated wearing anything uncomfortable and rarely touched luxury suits. But despite that, the dressing room he shared with Park Woo-jun was always packed to bursting with clothes worth more than a mid-sized car—gifts from a personal shopper hired by his maternal grandfather, who kept them stocked with new collections year-round.
Every season, the shopper even visited in person to reorganize their wardrobes. It felt pointless to complain. The old man had made it clear that buying clothes for his beloved grandson was his one true joy in life. Who was Han-seo to argue? If the man wanted to spend his money, let him.
“Alright. Time to head out.”
The man reflected in the mirror bore no trace of boyishness. Layered in quiet intimidation, the sharp, composed figure staring back exuded enough pressure to unsettle just about anyone.
He’d already laid the groundwork—months of it. Today, he’d finally reap what he sowed.
In reality, no matter what country you were in, Espers—gifted with physical advantages far beyond any civilian—were rarely acknowledged as victims. Even if something had happened to them before awakening, once the roles were set, it was nearly impossible for a non-Esper to face real consequences. At most, they’d get a slap on the wrist.
So Han-seo made a decision: he’d play the victim himself. By the time they realized it, they were already standing in the ring he’d built, blinking in confusion, gloves strapped on and everything.
Once he’d resolved to take revenge properly—personally—Han-seo had begun digging. He combed through the histories of Park Seon-jun and his parents, convinced that anyone cruel enough to adopt a baby nephew just to abuse him for money had to have skeletons buried deep.
But to his surprise, their public image was spotless. In the Korean-Canadian community, they were seen as a warm, loving couple from a well-off background—no dark past, no scandals. Practically a picture-book family.
That made his blood boil.
While they were living in bliss, Park Woo-jun had been left behind—abandoned at seventeen to fend for himself. Just the thought of it was enough to make Han-seo’s chest burn.
So he dug even deeper. He never let Woo-jun’s painful past leak publicly, but he was sure there had to be something—something—he could use to destroy them.
It had been years, so the trail was faint, but money talks—and Han-seo had no shortage of it. Eventually, his efforts paid off. From a middle-aged woman who used to attend the same church, he learned something interesting.
The father, a devout Christian, was obsessed with his reputation and moral standing in the community. But after being caught in an affair with an old classmate, he had fled overseas, hiding behind the excuse of a work transfer.
And the mother—the one who used to brag about her self-absorbed husband like he was a trophy—lost all her pride the moment the affair came to light.
At the time, young Woo-jun had been so ignored within the family that he didn’t even realize anything had happened. When Han-seo later hinted at what he’d uncovered, Woo-jun had just blinked, totally clueless.
Han-seo didn’t bother hiding that he was the source. He let the rumors spread—into the new church they’d started attending, their social clubs, even their soon-to-be-evicted apartment complex. Gossip traveled faster than any speeding car, and sure enough, right around then, the tone of their messages changed. The begging turned into threats and curses.
It hadn’t been long since Han-seo started exposing the truth about Park Seon-jun’s fake degree from a so-called prestigious Canadian university. By now, the whole family was probably red-eyed and frothing with rage.
“Tsk. Honestly, nothing lands quite like a slap.”
Maybe I’ll get to throw one today.
Humming under his breath, Han-seo slipped a small recorder into the inside pocket of his jacket and gave his heel a light tap. His footsteps echoed through the quiet corridor—calm, sharp, and full of purpose.
