“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Park Dong-wook.”
“…….”
“I sincerely hope we never meet again. If you’d like to avoid that, maybe work on that temper of yours first. Tsk. Of all the things to do, you went and assaulted a Guide without a second thought… Unbelievable.”
The prosecutor didn’t bother making eye contact. He just kept wiping his lenses in slow circles, his tone dry and businesslike, yet dripping with undisguised ridicule.
After giving the lens one last check under the ceiling light, he slowly slid his glasses back on. Then he turned to Park Dong-wook, who still stood there awkwardly, like a student caught misbehaving, and threw him a flat, indifferent look.
“What are you still doing here? Get going.”
The message couldn’t be clearer: Get out. Park Dong-wook’s pride screamed in protest, his teeth grinding so hard it felt like they might crack—but there was nothing he could do. He was no longer the executive of a big-name company, just a disgraced man facing the humiliation head-on. No matter how many titles he’d once held, he’d never gotten used to being treated like trash.
But what did it matter now? However he felt, the best course was to bow politely and walk away. The prosecutor had let him off with a suspended indictment—he couldn’t afford to push his luck.
“……Thank you, sir.”
“Oh. Sure.”
Even though Park Dong-wook bowed deep enough to nearly scrape the floor, the prosecutor didn’t so much as glance his way. He simply snapped open a newspaper with a loud crack and turned his chair away, making it clear the conversation was over.
Park Dong-wook’s clenched fists trembled with shame. But like the prosecutor himself, those feelings were ultimately meaningless. And Park Dong-wook knew that better than anyone.
The prosecutor waited a moment, holding the newspaper he had no intention of reading. When he finally heard the door close behind Park Dong-wook, he slumped back into his chair with a long, tired sigh.
“Whew… This job really isn’t for me.”
Prosecutors assigned to the Esper Rights Bureau usually handled cases involving Espers or Guides wrongfully harmed by public authorities. It wasn’t a glamorous job—among prosecutors, it was practically considered exile. Especially for someone like him, who wasn’t cut out for aggressive interrogations or chasing violent criminals.
He’d volunteered for the position, but only because of a personal request from Lee Han-seo. Acting tough for the sake of the role had been more exhausting than he’d imagined.
The one who asked for leniency—for the suspended indictment—was the victim himself, Lee Han-seo. Despite overwhelming evidence, Han-seo came with his father, smiling as if nothing had happened, and asked the prosecutor to let Park Dong-wook go.
“Assaulting a Guide? What’s the most he’d get for that, anyway? A ten million won fine? Maybe three years, tops?”
“Still, Han-seo… that man hit you. There’s no need to go easy. I can push for the highest sentence—”
“Don’t worry, Uncle. I’m not saying let him off scot-free. Call it one step back to take two steps forward. I guarantee he’ll be reported again for something similar within six months. I’ll make sure of it. And when that happens, the press will love that this isn’t his first offense. Once the media runs with it, it’ll help sway sentencing later on.”
The same kid who used to beam and shout “Uncle’s the best!” whenever he got a big transforming robot at the mall was now calmly strategizing someone’s downfall with his father by his side. Sitting across from those two matching, determined faces, the prosecutor couldn’t help but feel a headache coming on. All he could do was nod.
***
“Dad, what’d they say? Did you meet Park Woo-jun? If you got a suspended indictment, then that bastard must’ve stepped in for Han-seo, right? What about our house? My job? Are they giving everything back?”
After protecting this ungrateful brat his entire life—never once raising his voice—Park Dong-wook was done. And now, this entitled son was yelling as if the world owed him something.
When he returned home after nearly three days, the first thing out of Park Seon-jun’s mouth wasn’t “Are you okay?” It was an interrogation. His voice was sharp and accusing. And that was the last straw. Park Dong-wook hurled his jacket to the floor and exploded.
“That’s all you have to say to your father after everything I went through?!”
“God, you’re the one who lost it and beat up Lee Han-seo—why are you yelling at me?”
“What?! You ungrateful little punk—after all I’ve done, you think it’s okay to mouth off to your father like that?!”
“Oh, please. You went full thug and punched someone in the face! And whose fault is it that you got caught up with that woman and handed over leverage like an idiot? You messed up, so why are you taking it out on me?!”
“You—You little…!!”
Bloodshot eyes bulged from days of sleepless rage. His fists trembled—those same fists that had slammed into Lee Han-seo’s face not long ago, the same ones that had once landed blows on young Park Woo-jun whenever it pleased him.
In his own twisted way, he’d called it love. If he’d followed his temper, he would’ve already struck that smug face standing in front of him. But his precious son? Not a scratch on him.
“Hah. What now, Dad? You gonna hit me too?”
“Park Seon-jun, you little bastard, I swear—!!”
“Fuck it. Go ahead, hit me! Come on, let’s see you do it!”
Just as his fist shot up into the air, ready to explode—
“STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!”
A piercing scream suddenly shattered the tension, echoing through the house like glass breaking.
“Seon-jun, go to your room. You—sit. We need to talk.”
“M-Mom…”
“Don’t make me say it twice. Go.”
“…….”
For once, even Park Seon-jun seemed to realize something was wrong. His usual swagger vanished, and after glancing at his mother’s expression, he slinked off to his room without a word.
Park Dong-wook followed like a scolded dog, shuffling awkwardly into the living room. He let out a few nervous coughs, trying to break the silence. “H-Honey…” he ventured, forcing a weak smile—but she didn’t so much as glance at him. Her eyes were fixed coldly on the marble patterns of the coffee table, her face unreadable.
“You… you heard about what happened, right? The prosecutor let me go because it was my first offense. It’s all going to be okay. While I was in there, I did some thinking. We’ve still got the deposit on this place, and there are some good loan programs for young people these days. If we use Seon-jun’s name and pull one out, we could move out to Gyeonggi Province—”
“How much did Ms. Kim say she could lend you?”
“Huh…?”
He’d been rambling, hoping to buy some goodwill, but her voice cut in sharp and cold. She didn’t even blink. Caught off guard, he stood frozen, blinking like an idiot. His wife let out a quiet sigh and repeated the question.
“Kim So-jung. You said she agreed to lend you money. How much?”
“Uh, honey, that’s… I mean…”
“You said it yourself. You bragged about it. So how much?”
Of course, there was no real answer. That whole story had been a bluff—just an excuse, a lie he pulled out to cover his tracks. He hadn’t borrowed anything, hadn’t even asked. And if he threw out a number now and she told him to go and get it? He’d be completely screwed.
His hands ran over his face in frustration, wiping away sweat that wasn’t there. His wife stared down at him, voice low but unwavering.
“I don’t care anymore if you’re sleeping with someone else. But you’d better take care of me and Seon-jun properly. And don’t even think about dragging our son into this by using his name for a loan. What’s the point of having a successful pharmacist girlfriend if you can’t even make use of her when it counts?”
Cold. Precise. Unapologetic. In that moment, Park Dong-wook had no choice but to admit it—within this household, he was worth less than nothing.
***
Lee Han-seo stifled a laugh as he flipped through the report Chief Seo had sent over. So this is what it felt like to finally cough up ten years of resentment—it was practically euphoric.
“Huh? What’s so funny? Let me see.”
“It’s nothing. Doesn’t concern you. Go back to training.”
“God, you’re such a sore winner, Han-seo. King of pettiness, I swear.”
“Excuse me? You watch that mouth. How dare you speak the holy name of your esteemed older cousin like that? Unacceptable. I should tell Ho-yeon you’ve got no manners—”
“Wait! No, no! Hyung! Han-seo hyung, please!”
“That’s better. Know your place, little punk.”
Even the bratty grimace on his cousin’s face didn’t bother him today. In fact, with the mood he was in, Han-seo could probably clear back-to-back S-Class dungeons and still be smiling.
The intel he’d gathered through his planted sources painted a delightful picture: Park Dong-wook’s household was in absolute shambles. Park Seon-jun, despite being an adult, still depended on his father for everything and had taken to yelling at him daily. Park Dong-wook himself? Still clueless. Sneaking around, trying to meet up with his mistress again while cowering under his wife’s glare.
His mother’s movements were harder to track since she never left the house, but judging by her call logs, she was scrambling to borrow money from anyone who’d pick up the phone.
That was the thing about desperation—it made people reckless. And the damage they’d done to Park Woo-jun’s life wasn’t something that could be balanced out by a year or two of emotional distress. No, what they owed required far more.
Han-seo wasn’t satisfied with just making them suffer. He wanted to rip apart the toxic little bubble they lived in. Break the ties that bound them. And along the way, he fully intended to drag them down in the eyes of society too.
“Now, where should I start the fireworks to make the biggest splash…?”
It was a slow afternoon, and he found himself humming a cheerful tune.
