“Haha, I really didn’t think you two matched, but now I think I understand why Tae-yi is interested in you…”
Yoon Ji-seok, who had laughed loudly after seeing the clearly annoyed Sky Squirrel, continued to speak. Meanwhile, Haram, chewing on a peanut, shivered his shoulders.
“Chik, chiiik. Chik.”
You two don’t match either.
The man who had been constantly making assumptions about Haram and Tae-yi was starting to get on his nerves.
“Don’t you want anything from Tae-yi? After all, you were even kidnapped. You should at least ask for some compensation for the mental trauma.”
“Chik?”
The Sky Squirrel, who had been chewing eagerly, tilted his head in confusion at Yoon Ji-seok’s words. Compensation? What kind of compensation was he talking about?
“I want to ask if you’re acting innocent, but you look so genuinely innocent that I can’t even bring myself to ask.”
Yoon Ji-seok muttered under his breath, but Haram, whose ears were perked up, understood every word. It didn’t sound like a compliment.
“Chik, chiiik…”
I don’t need any compensation…
The only thing he would want was to be held in Tae-yi’s arms all day so that he couldn’t leave for work. That was about it. But even that seemed impossible today. The Sky Squirrel shook his head, then raised an almond in front of Yoon Ji-seok. It was a silent request for peace and quiet.
“Alright, alright. Eat as much as you want.”
“Chik, chik.”
Look over there.
The tone Yoon Ji-seok used to speak to him and the way he stared at him as though he were some kind of oddity was irritating. Haram pointed to the living room and chirped, causing Yoon Ji-seok to laugh softly and stare at the Sky Squirrel, clutching the almond tightly in his hand. He seemed to be glaring back at Haram in a strange way.
“I’ve never seen a Sky Squirrel Beastfolk before, so I guess I’m just fascinated. Did Tae-yi look at you this way too?”
Startled by the loud voice coming from the kitchen, Haram stopped eating and paused to think. Had Tae-yi ever looked at him with fascination? He vividly remembered the first time they met—when he shamelessly asked to be put to bed. Even when Haram showed off his silver-gray tail, Tae-yi didn’t show any surprise. He had simply accepted him as he was. In fact, he had even taken Tae-yi to the back mountain to show off his flying skills.
“Not at all, right? You only do this with me, right?”
This man seemed to be the quickest at noticing things among those Haram knew. Haram awkwardly shook his head and continued eating, but he could still feel the persistent gaze from across the table, which made it hard for him to swallow.
“Now you’re getting ignored even by rats, huh?”
Muttering about his situation, Yoon Ji-seok continued to stare at Haram, who, in response, subtly raised his arms and spread his patagium. However, despite being looked at so persistently, Yoon Ji-seok only gave a serious expression and didn’t acknowledge Haram directly.
Embarrassed, Haram lowered his arms and continued chewing the almond in his mouth. Yoon Ji-seok had seemed curious, but he quickly lost interest. He was such a strange person that Haram couldn’t figure him out. Was this really the kind of person Tae-yi would call a best friend? No matter how much he thought about it, they didn’t seem to match.
Still murmuring to himself, Yoon Ji-seok was clearly lost in thought. Haram, sensing an opportunity, reached into the bag of nuts and pulled out a peanut. He didn’t eat it right away but stuffed it deep into his mouth, storing it there like a squirrel. Since he didn’t have cheek pouches, he managed to fit only three peanuts.
With his cheeks puffed out, Haram glanced up at Yoon Ji-seok, who was still observing him. Then, the Sky Squirrel dashed to the edge of the table and leapt down in an instant.
Seeing him fly across the living room in the blink of an eye, Yoon Ji-seok stood up and quickly chased after him.
“Chik, chik!”
Go away!
Hiding under the couch, Haram carefully spat out the peanuts from his mouth and saw Yoon Ji-seok’s grey slippers approaching quickly. He stamped his feet in frustration and shouted.
“If Tae-yi sees this, he’ll think I hit you. He’s about to arrive, so hurry up and get out.”
It was really a perfect situation for misunderstandings. A kid flying off while eating, hiding under the couch, and not coming out—it would definitely look like Haram was being cruelly bullied. Wasn’t he supposed to be different from Kang Tae-jin?
“I’ll stay quiet. Huh? I’ll be quiet, so come out, alright?”
Worried that Yoon Ji-seok might try to grab him from under the couch, Haram started to chew the peanuts in his mouth again. When Yoon Ji-seok finally stopped talking, the entire mansion was suddenly enveloped in an eerie silence. The only sound left was the crunch of Haram chewing his peanuts.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem like Yoon Ji-seok planned to drag him out or do anything forceful. After finishing his short meal in peace, Haram cautiously crawled out from under the couch.
As soon as he emerged, he deliberately stepped on Yoon Ji-seok’s foot, pressing down firmly before heading toward the second-floor stairs. But halfway there, he suddenly turned toward the front entrance.
“Haah… What even is that thing…”
It wasn’t like Haram was massive or the hallway was blocked. The fact that he’d deliberately stomped on Yoon Ji-seok’s foot meant it was intentional. He’d thought Tae-yi had fallen for some innocent, naive country bumpkin, but turns out the kid had some edge after all.
“Chiiik…”
At the entrance, Haram sat down and pulled his flat tail in front of him, hugging it tightly.
“He said he’d be late.”
But when Yoon Ji-seok casually threw that comment out, Haram had no choice but to get up again. While replying to a text from Yoon Min-ho, Yoon Ji-seok looked over at Haram, who was fidgeting in place, and smiled faintly.
“I can’t tell you where he went. It’s a secret.”
“Chik…?”
A secret…?
Was there a secret that only Haram didn’t know about? Shocked, Haram wobbled slightly in place and, after a moment, stepped closer to Yoon Ji-seok, who had a smug expression. He had thought that Tae-yi had gone to work, but judging from Yoon Ji-seok’s reaction, it seemed like Tae-yi had gone somewhere else—somewhere that he wanted to keep a secret from Haram.
He had promised not to lie to Haram again, but he hadn’t said anything about keeping secrets. So, even though it wasn’t necessarily Tae-yi’s fault, Haram couldn’t help feeling a bit upset, and his lips curled in frustration. Trying to hide his feelings, Haram forced himself to look up at Yoon Ji-seok, who was standing casually in front of him.
“Chik, chiiik?”
Tilting his head, Haram gave him the most imploring, wide-eyed look he could manage. Yoon Ji-seok gazed down in satisfaction, a smug smile stretching across his face.
In that moment, the power dynamic flipped completely.
***
They weren’t exactly enemies, but never once had he resented him—until now.
For the first time, overwhelming resentment surged in his chest.
His father lay in the hospital bed, looking like he barely had a couple of weeks left. Even the attending physician, voice filled with pity, had admitted the hospital could do no more and told them to start preparing.
The stern, unshakable man who had always stood tall in front of others was gone, replaced by a frail figure who barely resembled his past self.
If Chairman Kang died like this without naming a successor, Changi Construction would be thrown into chaos—and Kang Tae-jin would definitely use that chance to make one last desperate grab for power.
He was still the eldest son, after all.
“You’re not going to help me—not even on your deathbed?”
Kang Tae-yi’s voice trembled with resentment as the sound of his father’s oxygen mask filled the hospital room.
Just then, the door burst open.
Chief Yoon walked in with a frown, his expression dark.
“It looks like Kang Tae-jin’s been notified as well.”
His mind was spinning.
He’d just recovered Da Haram from being kidnapped by Kang Tae-jin. Now all that was left was to refocus on the overseas projects and continue tightening the noose.
He hadn’t expected Chairman Kang’s condition to take such a drastic turn.
“……Director.”
Kang Tae-yi, who had been quietly standing by the bed, rose to his feet and locked eyes with Yoon Min-ho.
“Tae-jin will show up. Watch him closely.”
There was no way Tae-jin would stay hidden now—not when things were turning in his favor. No, he’d strut in, full of confidence, just waiting for their father to die.
He wouldn’t just sit still either—he’d already be scheming, manipulating the situation to his advantage. Kang Tae-yi could see it clearly.
“Why not try what Yoon Ji-seok suggested? Secretary Kim won’t make any bold moves right now. If we’re going to act, it has to be now.”
He’d thought Secretary Kim would betray Tae-jin and switch sides easily—but the situation was more unstable than expected.
With the Chairman in critical condition, Secretary Kim was probably sweating, unsure of where to place his allegiance.
The current confusion was the perfect moment to sway him.
As Yoon Min-ho laid out his suggestion, Kang Tae-yi turned his gaze to his father—now nothing but skin and bones.
