It wasn’t just a slap—it felt like getting smashed in the face with a fist made of iron. The blow landed so hard, not even a scream came out. It took nearly thirty seconds for Lee Han-seo to gather his senses and manage to stand on his own. His legs were shaky, his head spun, and the pain in his cheek was one thing, but his nose throbbed like it had been crushed. He wiped beneath it instinctively, and sure enough, his knuckles came away streaked with blood.
“Wow… is this a nosebleed? First one in my life…”
He’d expected something like this, but the pain made it feel completely unreal. Even when he got thrown around inside dungeons, it was usually his arms or legs that took the damage. He wasn’t a frontline fighter. He’d never taken a hit like this square in the face before—not even once.
Beeeep—beeeep—
“Guide-nim! Are you all right? Guide-nim!!”
By the time his head cleared, the sirens were already blaring, and the security team had stormed in through the door, surrounding him like a protective wall. They handed him an ice pack, which he pressed to his burning cheek as he addressed them calmly.
“I just need a moment. Can you wait outside for a bit?”
“That’s not allowed. We can’t leave a Guide alone with someone who’s assaulted them. Assaulting a Guide means immediate detainment, no exceptions.”
“I’m not asking for much. Yeah, I got hit for no reason, but I want to say at least something before they’re dragged off. You can wait right outside the door and come in the second anything happens. Just give me five minutes—no, three.”
“Still, it’s against protocol…”
“Then I guess I’ll have to tell Woo-jun this happened because the security team slacked off.”
“…You have three minutes. We’ll be timing it.”
“Thanks for your cooperation.”
The three people who had just been pinned down by security finally started to understand the situation they were in. The pressure of the guards’ grip, unyielding and cold, drove the point home.
“Honestly, I was looking for a reason to clean this mess up anyway. Thanks for handing it to me—you made things easier.”
“Wh-What the hell… What did we ever do to you for you to come at us like this?!”
Still don’t get it? That’s why Han-seo had chosen to settle this on Woo-jun’s behalf. If taking a punch to the face was the price of cutting these people off for good, it felt like a bargain. He pressed the ice pack harder against his cheek.
“Woo-jun changed his number, and I’m not giving you the new one. Don’t bother calling the old one either—that’s just harassment now. And let me make this crystal clear: you will never see Team Leader Park Woo-jun again for the rest of your lives. Consider yourselves complete strangers from now on. Don’t go around flaunting his name, expecting special treatment. Got it?”
“What right do you have to say that…! Woo-jun came out of my belly—he’s my son!”
Lies flowed freely from that mouth, like it was second nature. Even with his cheek throbbing, Han-seo couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The pain was real—but it was just so damn funny.
“Wow. Hilarious. So funny I could cry.”
“……”
“Woo-jun isn’t your son. Everyone knows that. So quit with the bullshit.”
“!!”
Finally, Park Woo-jun’s so-called family—Park Seon-jun and his parents—flinched, as if something had finally clicked. They exchanged glances before the father opened his mouth.
“Wait… Are you doing all this just because we’re not Woo-jun’s real family? Over something that petty?”
“Pfft. Of course not. What kind of person do you think I am?”
Whether they were blood-related or not had never mattered. What mattered was how they’d treated Park Woo-jun. Even if—just for argument’s sake—they had been his biological parents and siblings, if they’d still treated him like trash, Han-seo wouldn’t have done anything differently.
“Even if you were total strangers with not a single drop of shared blood, if you’d raised Woo-jun with love and care, if you hadn’t hurt him… I wouldn’t have held anything back. It’s not like I could ever spend all that money in one lifetime anyway. But that’s not what happened, is it?”
“……”
“You didn’t. You never did.”
Han-seo’s eyes sharpened like blades, locking onto them with a fury fit for lifelong enemies. When he pulled the ice pack away, a red-purple bruise had already started to bloom on his pale cheek.
“There’s one thing I learned from Chairman Choi—my grandfather. Always settle accounts properly.”
With that, Han-seo tapped his injured cheek with the back of his hand, his smile sharp and cold.
“There was already a lot I needed to pay back on Woo-jun’s behalf. Now I’ve got one more thing to add to the tab. Sit tight—I’ll make sure you get what’s coming.”
Before the full three minutes were even up, Han-seo turned on his heel and opened the door to the visitation room. The security team, waiting just outside with tense expressions, looked to him. He gave a small nod.
In the next moment, more than ten well-trained agents stormed into the room in perfect sync—to subdue just three civilians.
“Let go of me! I said let go! You can’t arrest us without a warrant—this is illegal, you hear me?!”
“Mr. Park Dong-wook. Under the Special Act for the Protection of Espers, assaulting a Guide is an immediate referral offense. No need for police involvement. If you’ve got complaints, take it up with the prosecutor.”
His cheek still burned, but his shoulders felt lighter. As far as fresh starts went, this wasn’t a bad way to begin. Without a single backward glance, Han-seo walked forward, each firm step echoing through the corridor.
Thud. Thud. The sound of his shoes filled the hallway, sharp and unrelenting.
***
“Ugh, damn it… that hurts…”
Even sitting still made him wince. The emotional satisfaction was one thing, but the pain kept sharpening by the second—deep, throbbing, and absolutely unbearable. Lee Han-seo wasn’t used to getting hurt, and this wasn’t the kind of thing he could just brush off.
God, that bastard’s strength is no joke.
Grumbling silently, he quickly made his way toward the Medical Team. Park Woo-jun had been sent out to fight wildfires a few times before, and each time, no matter how late, he was always back by evening. Han-seo had to get his injuries treated before Woo-jun laid eyes on him.
Sure, a big part of it was because he knew Woo-jun would be heartbroken. Han-seo hadn’t done all this just to put another scar on him. That much was true. But honestly…
“Damn, that bruise is really coming in. If Woo-jun sees this…”
If Woo-jun found out someone had laid a hand on him—especially if he learned the one who’d done it was his legal father—then…
“Not even Grandpa could get him off the hook for patricide… Yeah, I’m way too young to be the one bringing him snacks in prison. Just gotta get the certificate, get the treatment, and fast.”
Not that he wouldn’t do it if it came down to it—but Han-seo had no intention of leaving even the slightest thread tying Woo-jun to that filthy excuse of a family. He didn’t want things to spiral and reveal that Woo-jun was adopted or had suffered a cruel past. He didn’t want people pitying him for something so degrading. If you stripped away all the emotional calculations, crushing three nobodies with no connections wasn’t exactly hard.
When he got to the medical wing and took a number to wait his turn, a message came in from the security team. Since neither the mother nor Park Seon-jun had actually struck him, they’d been released. The father, however, had been handed off to a criminal prosecutor under the Esper Rights Bureau.
Conveniently, the prosecutor was one of his father’s college friends. Han-seo had grown up calling the man “Uncle.” Couldn’t ask for a better setup to steer things exactly how he wanted.
“Guide Lee Han-seo, please proceed to Exam Room 3.”
The moment the doctor saw Han-seo’s swollen face, they jumped in alarm and asked what the hell had happened. But Han-seo didn’t even flinch—he leaned forward and practically shoved his face into the doctor’s view, insisting he needed a medical certificate for at least three weeks.
“Doc, look carefully. Here. Right here. Isn’t that deep bruising? According to the official medical guide, that warrants three weeks. And I had a nosebleed too—it stopped now, but still. Oh! And I felt dizzy. Think I might have a concussion? Can we get a CT scan, just in case?”
It was the result of growing up with a lawyer for a father—whether that was a blessing or a curse was anyone’s guess. But Han-seo had always been good at this, and today, he was in rare form.
“You’ve got a psych doc on staff, right? I was so shocked I really need counseling. Look—my hands are shaking like crazy…”
At first, the doctor had clucked their tongue sympathetically. But now, their expression had dulled into something closer to Are you serious right now?
Han-seo couldn’t care less. He even held up his perfectly functional hand and gave it a dramatic tremble for effect. It wasn’t even a lie—his hands were shaking, just not from fear. Rage did that too.
With the diagnosis in hand and even a psych consultation recorded for good measure, Han-seo finally requested a Special-Type Healing Esper. Now that everything was documented, all he had to do was patch himself up before Woo-jun got back.
Most Guides with an Imprint were sensitive to other Espers’ wave activity and couldn’t tolerate a Healing Esper’s treatment—but this wasn’t the time to be picky. Hot water or cold, it didn’t matter.
Park Woo-jun, blissfully unaware of the mess happening behind the scenes, would probably dive straight into dungeon clearing for the next month or two. Han-seo had already handed everything off to his father. The plan was simple: keep Woo-jun’s eyes and ears shut and finish this revenge cleanly behind the curtain.
That was the plan.
“…Excuse me, what did you just say?”
But life never quite went according to plan, did it?
“You’re saying there are no Healing Espers available right now?”
“I’m so sorry. A team just got back from the large-scale dungeon break last week, and they’ve all been sent out again.”
“No, no! I don’t even need a high-ranking one. See this? Just need this one spot treated. A C-Class would do. Hell, a D-Class is fine!”
“There’s really no one left. I’m so sorry. We’re so understaffed, even the rookies who haven’t finished basic training got sent out.”
The nurse looked just as apologetic as Han-seo did stunned.
“U-Um… we can disinfect it at least? Maybe apply some ointment…?”
“…Sure.”
He was in the middle of slathering cold ointment on his red, swollen cheek when his phone buzzed with a new message. The screen lit up.
♡My Sweet Potato♡
[Just finished everything!]
[On my way now, baby!]
[Should I stop at the rest area and bring back some sausage skewers?]
Oh no.
Han-seo’s mind went blank.
He was so screwed.
