“Didn’t I tell you not to think about running away through death?”
“I’m not thinking about running away!”
Choi Suho snarled through clenched teeth.
“Who said anything about dying? If anything, only if the client wanted that—!”
“The client didn’t go that far. And I’m not going to let you die.”
“Why?!”
“Because I know trash like you all too well.”
Ji Haesu bared his teeth in a smile and, watching Choi Suho clamp his mouth shut and swallow dryly, spoke in a gentle, almost soothing tone.
“At this point, you suddenly realize something and fall into self-pity—thinking that if you disappeared, the victims would finally feel relieved, that maybe you’d even be forgiven. Or maybe you know you won’t be forgiven and will only be pointed at, so you try to escape through death. That ugly, cowardly mindset of yours.”
“That’s not—!”
Smack!
Blood ran down Choi Suho’s jaw from where a palm had struck his cheek.
“Shut the fuck up, you piece of trash!”
“Kh—!”
Choi Suho spat out a mouthful of blood, coughed violently, and then muttered through teeth stained red.
“Then I’ll live on, carrying this pain to the end—”
“You’ll chew over what you did, and you’ll live your whole life bearing that pain. The victims will live carrying even worse pain—how dare you try to run away through death? How arrogant. Who do you think you are? You had some money, so you fucked Alphas and Omegas for fun and lived it up, and now that you’re finally seeing the truth, do you think you’re pitiful? Do you think Choi Juho is pitiful?”
“……”
Tears welled at the corners of Choi Suho’s eyes.
“Fuck you. Then you never should’ve done it in the first place! You enjoyed everything you wanted, and now that you know there’s no real difference between what your father did and what you did, now that you know the father who gave birth to you died by suicide—what? Are you so proud of yourself that you want to go to heaven and brag to the father who gave birth to you? That you killed the Omega who got pregnant with your child because you didn’t want to take responsibility?”
“No!”
As tears spilled down Choi Suho’s face, Ji Haesu shouted, “Shut up! At least Jang Yuguk tried to take responsibility for your father! But you? You just wanted pleasure without responsibility! Because you were scared! You wanted only the money your father gave you, only the pleasure! You ruined someone’s life and then pretended it had nothing to do with you! And now you feel sorry that your father’s life was ruined? You feel bad for him?”
“No, I—I… that’s not—”
“Now that it’s your turn, do you feel sorry for Do Si-in?”
His words caught in his throat. Ji Haesu let out a snort of laughter, grabbed Choi Suho by the collar, pulled his face close, and said,
“Do you feel sorry for the nanny who died because of you?”
“……!”
Choi Suho’s eyes flew open, tears pooling before spilling down his face.
“Do you feel sorry for your maternal grandmother, who killed the nanny because of you, went to prison, and then ended her life by suicide?”
“Stop. Stop it.”
Choi Suho’s hands trembled violently. He wanted to block his ears. He hadn’t known his grandmother had died like that. If only my father hadn’t— the thought rose unbidden, and at the same time, like an arrow piercing his skull, another thought followed: if only I hadn’t.
His head spun.
What have I been doing all this time?
I inherited the blood of Choi Juho and Jang Yuguk and continued both of their lives.
I never should have been like this with Jang Yuguk’s blood… but Choi Juho’s blood ended up killing both the nanny and my grandmother.
“You at least met a capable father and lived a cushy life—what are you going to do for the countless victims whose lives were fucked because they met you, including Do Si-in? Ah, you gave them money, so they avoided being raped, right?”
Choi Suho’s body trembled uncontrollably. Unable to watch him wallow in self-pity any longer, Ji Haesu threw out his final line of defense.
“Then what kind of price are you going to pay to the victims who took that money and still killed themselves?”
When Ji Haesu released his collar, Choi Suho slid down the wall and collapsed. Looking down at Choi Suho sprawled on the floor, blinking unfocused eyes, blocking his ears and burying his head in his knees, Ji Haesu spoke with scorn.
“Not everyone lives like you, Suho.”
“……”
“Not all chaebol bastards live like that. You grew up drenched in your father’s love—”
Even his crying was disgusting. Ji Haesu lifted Choi Suho’s chin with the tip of his foot and said in a voice heavy with irritation,
“So stop fucking crying and drowning in self-pity. You don’t even have the right to cry. You piece of trash.”
Choi Suho stopped crying and staggered to his feet. Hoo, ha, hoo, ha—he took several deep breaths, went into the bathroom attached to the hospital room, washed his face, and came back out. Seeing his forehead swollen red from headbutting earlier, Choi Suho spoke with a hoarse, sleepy voice, forcing the words out.
“I should at least wrap a bandage around my head.”
“Do whatever.”
“At the very least, I need to ask my dad the truth.”
Ji Haesu smiled.
“You think your father’s going to tell you the truth?”
As Choi Suho pulled clothes out of the patient locker, he replied with a detached air,
“Still better than someone like you, where everything is a lie.”
“Suho.”
“What?”
“If you call me ‘you’ one more time, I’m really not saving you.”
“Ha, fuck.”
Choi Suho cursed, slammed the locker door shut, and snapped at Ji Haesu without hesitation.
“I don’t owe you any kind of sin, so I’m not calling you hyung, you fucker.”
***
What should I do? All I have to do is open the hospital room door, but I can’t. Staring at the single-patient room door with his father’s name written on it, Choi Suho broke out in a cold sweat, his face deathly pale.
Clearly, my top priority is killing Ji Haesu, and if I meet Do Si-in—
If I meet Do Si-in? What would I do if I met him? Would I kill Do Si-in too?
Now the question turned back on himself.
Who the hell do you think you are?
A sneer rose up inside him, poking insistently at his bandage-wrapped temple as if telling him to wake up.
Huh? You think you’re Jang Yuguk’s son?
Choi Suho’s left hand, resting on the doorknob, trembled slightly.
You’re a bastard who couldn’t even get on Jang Yuguk’s family register. The product of rape, someone everyone wished would die—
“No.”
The word slipped out of Choi Suho’s mouth before he realized it. Just then, a familiar voice sounded behind him.
“What’s ‘no’?”
Choi Suho’s shoulders jerked. The moment he turned around, Jang Jihyeok—who had come to visit—approached, releasing a rush of Alpha pheromones mixed with the stale outside air. Instantly, Choi Suho pulled his hand away from Jang Yuguk’s door and covered his mouth.
“Choi—ugh!”
“Get the fuck away from me!”
Shoving Jang Jihyeok with his shoulder, Choi Suho ran toward the bathroom that could be accessed using a security key. A nurse at the desk called out, “You can’t run in this ward,” but when she saw Jang Jihyeok clutching his chest where he’d been hit and approaching, she shut her mouth and sat up straight.
A sinister grin twisted Jang Jihyeok’s lips—usually expressionless whenever he came here. It looked like a clown from a horror movie, and Choi Suho’s whole body froze.
Jang Jihyeok slipped into the outsiders-only bathroom that Choi Suho had barged into. In his haste, Choi Suho—acting completely out of character—had rushed into the stall right next to the cleaning closet and was dry-heaving.
Like an Omega who was pregnant or something.
Come to think of it…
Watching Choi Suho’s tall back as he clung to the toilet, retching, “Ugh—ugh!” Jang Jihyeok slowly opened his mouth.
“Did Ji Haesu get to you?”
“What the fuck…?”
All that came up was stomach acid and a few drops of the tonic Jang Yuguk had given him. Lately, the pain in his abdomen had worsened so much that he couldn’t eat properly, and Choi Suho had lost several kilograms. It wasn’t just weight—he’d lost muscle too, fat filling in its place, making once-firm areas like his arms and thighs strangely soft, almost Omega-like.
“I saw it, you know?”
That single sentence landed like a clean strike, snapping his mind back to reality.
“……!”
Choi Suho’s face drained of color. His grip slipped on the toilet, and his face nearly plunged into the bowl. Barely avoiding disaster, he staggered upright like a zombie, bracing himself against the bathroom wall. Gasping for breath, he looked nothing like his former strong, elegant self—his eyes were sunken, his whole appearance gaunt and haggard.
As if that weren’t enough, his bloodless pale skin and the way he bit down hard on his vividly red lips made it obvious he was enduring pain, making him look like a man burdened with an unspoken story.
Which wasn’t wrong.
He did have a story.
“Juho hyung saw it too.”
“…What?”
The look on Choi Suho’s face was something to behold. Jang Jihyeok, his own mouth bruised and swollen from being hit—so stiff it barely opened—let out a low groan, “Ah, ah,” rubbing it as he muttered,
“You saw it too.”
“……”
Is that what someone who’s fallen into hell looks like? It felt like he’d been living for this exact moment. For the first time since Choi Juho’s suicide, Jang Jihyeok felt like he was truly breathing again.
It’s like this father and son exist just for me.
Looks, personality—ah, except for Choi Suho’s fucking insane personality. It’d be nice if they were the same all the way to the end. That would be perfect.
With that thought, Jang Jihyeok smiled with his eyes half-lidded, placed a hand over his chest, and spoke with a fluttering, excited voice.
