The unexplained fever had persisted for several days, yet Seo-yul still hadn’t regained consciousness. Han Jae-hoon had summoned every doctor in the district, but not a single one of them could determine the cause of the illness.
Prescribing ineffective medicine and leaving had happened multiple times, and in the end, the only thing Han Jae-hoon could do was stay by Seo-yul’s side, wiping his burning body with a cold wet cloth.
Seo-yul had been frail since birth. He had suffered from countless minor illnesses and had even brushed past death multiple times for unknown reasons. Yet each time, he had somehow managed to overcome it and rise again.
As he neared adulthood, he hadn’t even caught a common cold, always appearing perfectly healthy, so they had all thought he was fine. But clearly, that wasn’t the case.
Only after this crisis unfolded did Han Jae-hoon learn from the butler that Seo-yul had secretly been taking fever reducers all along. Han Jae-hoon couldn’t say anything. A hollow laugh escaped him.
“The fever never went away… and he hid it.”
With his face buried deep in both hands, Han Jae-hoon let out a long, weary sigh. The symptoms had been there, but since they had been hidden, things had escalated to this point. Still, he couldn’t blame anyone. He had a vague understanding of why Seo-yul hadn’t told him.
“Luel.”
“Yes, District Chief.”
“Why do things like this only happen to me?”
The emotions he had been holding back surged up. As the butler gently patted his trembling shoulders, Han Jae-hoon bit his lip hard, struggling to suppress the sobs threatening to break free.
Seo-yul had once suffered from an unexplained fever for weeks when he was a child. The helplessness he had felt back then—having to experience it again—realizing that nothing had changed from that time—was utterly miserable.
And so, powerless days passed.
He had long neglected his responsibilities as district chief to stay by Seo-yul’s side. Eventually, his aide, insisting that he had to pull himself together, left him with no choice but to entrust Seo-yul to the butler and step away.
After the disastrous birthday party, ruined when the guest of honor collapsed, he had been putting off his work. Now, he finally returned to his study to deal with it. The moment he saw the pile of documents filling his desk, a deep sigh escaped him. The first thing that greeted him was a letter from the district elders.
“Change the successor…”
Though they had wrapped it in kind words, claiming they wished for Seo-yul’s recovery, in the end, it was a demand to replace Seo-yul with Han Se-yul as the next district chief—because they couldn’t entrust the district to someone who was unstable, someone who might die at any moment.
Letting out a deep breath, Han Jae-hoon crumpled the letter filled with hypocritical words. That alone didn’t ease his frustration, so he tore it into shreds. He was at his limit.
He wanted to flip the entire district over. The endless stream of responsibilities was suffocating him. Seo-yul was still suffering from a burning fever, teetering on the edge of death, yet here he was—choosing to sit at his desk and work.
‘What’s the point of it all?’
Han Jae-hoon let go of the shredded pieces in his hand. As the fragments fluttered to the ground, he stepped on them lightly before opening the drawer and pulling out a handgun. Keeping the safety firmly locked, he placed his finger on the trigger.
If Seo-yul were to die like this, he had no intention of lingering in this world either. After losing his wife, the only thing left to him was Seo-yul. If he lost even that, then what meaning would life hold?
So please, just once more—let a miracle happen.
“District Chief!”
Without even knocking, the butler burst into the study, calling his name. Han Jae-hoon removed his finger from the trigger and lifted his hollow eyes to meet the butler’s gaze. Panting heavily, the butler spoke.
“The young master has woken up.”
Sleep-deprived and weakened from skipping meals ever since Seo-yul collapsed, Han Jae-hoon’s mind failed to process the words right away. As he sat there in a daze, the butler repeated himself.
Seo-yul had woken up.
“…Is that true?”
Han Jae-hoon sprang up from his seat, rushing past the butler and out of the study. As he ran toward Seo-yul’s room, only one thought filled his mind—Seo-yul was awake.
Please, let this be another miracle. He prayed and prayed as he ran, still clutching the handgun he hadn’t thought to put down.
“Baby!”
The moment he threw open the door, he called out for him. His urgent gaze landed on the bed. The Seo-yul who had been writhing in fever was now sitting up against the headboard, looking perfectly fine.
Seo-yul had been talking with Shining, but when Han Jae-hoon entered, he turned to him with a bright smile. There was no trace of illness left—his face was full of life.
As Han Jae-hoon took in the sight, tears streamed down his cheeks.
“Father.”
It was the voice he had longed so desperately to hear.
***
It had taken a long time, but in the end, Seo-yul had risen once again.
Every doctor in the district had given up on him, yet miraculously, he had recovered.
Han Jae-hoon ran his hands all over Seo-yul’s face, checking for even the faintest fever, basking in the joy of the moment. As he praised Seo-yul for enduring so well, the attending physician, who had been standing at a distance, hesitated before calling out to him.
“There’s something I need to discuss.”
“Speak.”
“Well, it’s just… not here….”
Being interrupted in his time with his son soured Han Jae-hoon’s mood, but the physician’s uneasy expression was too serious to ignore. Without a word, he followed him out.
Only after the butler firmly shut the door behind them did the physician, glancing around nervously, begin to hesitantly explain what he couldn’t say in Seo-yul’s presence.
“A few years ago, I diagnosed the young master with pheromone instability. At the time, he was only slightly more sensitive to pheromones than the average person, but I never imagined it would develop to this extent in just a few years. Cases like this are extremely rare….”
“What exactly are you trying to say?”
Han Jae-hoon couldn’t make sense of the doctor’s rambling. Cutting off the monologue that sounded more like the doctor talking to himself, he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall with a cynical stance.
It was probably another ridiculous pheromone-related theory. Expecting yet another absurd diagnosis, he waited, his patience thinning. Finally, after much hesitation, the doctor spoke.
“The young master has manifested as an Omega.”
“What a load of bullshit.”
Han Jae-hoon immediately scoffed at the words. First, it was pheromones; now, they were trying to label a perfectly normal person as an Omega? This was beyond misdiagnosis—it was utter nonsense.
“I understand that it’s hard to believe, but late-onset manifestation does happen in some cases. Many of those who manifest experience a fever around adulthood, which strongly resembles the young master’s condition—”
“Shut that mouth of yours!”
He completely cut off the doctor’s explanation. Behind him, the butler cast a nervous glance toward the closed door, no doubt thinking of Seo-yul inside. Han Jae-hoon clenched his jaw and barely managed to suppress his anger.
“If you’re just going to spew nonsense, get out.”
Turning away from the doctor, he waved him off dismissively. What a waste of time. He would rather spend that time looking at Seo-yul’s face a little longer and having the conversations they hadn’t had the chance to.
“I heard that the young master had been secretly taking fever reducers for a long time.”
Han Jae-hoon’s hand, which had been reaching for the doorknob, froze mid-air. The doctor had hit a sore spot. Schooling his expression into indifference, he slowly turned around.
“And what of it?”
“You know this as well, District Chief. The symptoms were there all along. This was bound to happen eventually.”
No, there had been no signs—none at all. Seo-yul was simply frail; that was why he ran fevers. Just as his pheromones had always been a little unstable compared to others—because of his weak constitution.
It wasn’t because he was an Omega. Never because of that.
“We need to inform the young master of his manifestation immediately and—”
Han Jae-hoon snapped.
The moment the doctor uttered those words, he spun around and seized him by the collar, hoisting him up. The smaller man dangled helplessly in the air as Han Jae-hoon’s grip tightened. The butler, horrified, rushed to pry them apart.
“District Chief, please calm down.”
“You think I can fucking calm down right now?” Han Jae-hoon’s voice was raw with fury. “That bastard wants me to tell my son with my own mouth that he’s an Omega—do you think I can just accept that?”
He was barely holding himself together. How could he possibly do this? How could he look Seo-yul in the eyes and tell him something so cruel?
Pressing his hand to his face, he rubbed it harshly, forcing down the scream that threatened to rip from his throat. The urge to destroy everything in sight surged within him—but more than that, he felt a crushing helplessness.
Why did things like this always happen to him?
“…I once heard a rumor that a doctor named Xenia in District 1 can cure manifested individuals.”
At the hesitant words from the doctor, Han Jae-hoon lifted his face, his expression twisted in despair. The doctor, wary of another outburst, quickly took cover behind the butler before continuing.
“I haven’t been able to verify it myself, so I can’t give you a definite answer. However, this doctor was once well-known enough that rumors spread about her. Perhaps she might be able to cure the young master—”
“Is that true?”
The doctor, momentarily silenced, nodded.
It was probably nothing more than baseless gossip. A doctor who could cure those who had already manifested? Logic dictated that it was impossible.
And yet, in the depths of despair, Han Jae-hoon clung to the faintest sliver of hope.
“Luel.”
“Yes, District Chief.”
“Prepare to depart for District 1 immediately.”
If there was a way to cure Seo-yul, he would do anything—no matter what it took.
