Her voice sharpened into a blade and stabbed into Choi Suho’s eardrums, piercing straight through to his chest. In front of everyone—loud enough for all to hear.
Choi Suho’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, his pupils trembling at the humiliation that was about to descend. Laughter drifted through the air—people who knew his origins snickering as if they were watching an amusing spectacle. The rumor spread in an instant, and even the relatives who had been inside the funeral hall poured out in a rush, surrounding Choi Suho and her.
The bruises scattered across Choi Suho’s face stood out starkly as his complexion drained of all color. The hand gripping his crutch turned ghostly white. Yet she smiled broadly, deliberately, pointing at the ground beneath her feet as she enunciated each word with cruel clarity.
“Kneel in front of me and say, ‘I’m sorry for being born.’”
“……”
Jang Jihyeok, Jang Jihae, and the relatives—including her—laughed as though they’d just watched something immensely satisfying. Choi Suho swallowed dryly, his face vacant, unable to force out a single word. He had known already that he wouldn’t be welcomed at his father’s funeral. He’d known she, especially as the chief mourner, wouldn’t greet him kindly. He’d even expected a slap at the very least, or a fight to break out—but…
“If you don’t, I’ll never let you into his funeral hall. I’ll have people drag you out. But if you say ‘I’m sorry for being born’ in a way that pleases me, I’ll allow you to burn incense and mourn his death.”
—You’re Jang Yuguk’s son.
His father’s words echoed in his ears, the memory of a hand patting his shoulder. They’d meant the same thing as always: live without bowing your pride as Jang Yuguk’s son. Even if your name never made it into the family registry, you’re still Jang Yuguk’s son—so no matter what people say, hold your head high and live with dignity.
“The choice is yours, Choi Suho.”
She sneered as she deliberately used his name.
You were never a child of our family. Even if your father acknowledged you, now that he’s dead, you’re no longer Jang Yuguk’s child—and the will proves it.
Heeheehee.
Laughter erupted from all sides. The mocking voices his father had always shielded him from exploded like bombs in his ears. He wanted to cover them, but with crutches under his arms, even that was impossible.
“What’s wrong? Can’t do it? Then turn around and go home. You’re not the only guest coming here for him.”
His father had taught him how to straighten his back—never how to bend his knees. He didn’t even know how one was supposed to kneel.
Thud.
Just as she was turning away, a heavy sound dropped near her ear. She slowly turned her head. Choi Suho had lowered his head and thrown the left crutch—supporting his broken left leg—onto the ground. Then, inch by inch, he bent his left knee. Next, he cast aside the right crutch that had been holding up his right leg as well.
Thump.
He fully bent his knees, planted both hands on the floor, and bowed his head deeply before speaking. People sucked in sharp breaths, then quickly swallowed their laughter. As gazes poured down on him like he was an animal in a zoo, Choi Suho’s face twisted, his fingers curling stiffly. Unable to bear looking at his trembling hands, he shut his eyes halfway and opened his quivering mouth.
“I’m sorry for being……”
I am Jang Yuguk and Choi Juho’s……
“I’m sorry for being…… born.”
I am the son of Jang Yuguk and Choi Juho.
“I’m sorry for being born……”
At that moment, her shoe-clad foot came down hard on Choi Suho’s head.
“Louder.”
Though he had become an Omega, Choi Suho’s body was still solid and resilient, like an Alpha’s. Now it shook violently, soaked in humiliation and shame. Watching him, a radiant, beautiful smile spread across her face. Nothing could have been more thrilling, more intoxicating than this. And Jang Jihyeok, Jang Jihae, and the relatives watching all felt joy and satisfaction at the downfall of Choi Suho—the one Jang Yuguk had cherished and protected so dearly.
Choi Suho became an Omega, received nothing, and destroyed himself.
“I’m sorry for being born.”
“Louder.”
“I’m sorry for being born.”
Choi Suho’s voice grew louder, clearer. At some point, the mantra he’d drilled into himself—I am the son of Jang Yuguk and Choi Juho—vanished completely. His head was filled with nothing but I’m sorry for being born. I’m sorry for being born.
“I’m sorry for being born. I’m sorry for being born.”
She lifted her foot at last, having stomped on his wax-slicked hair until it was thoroughly disheveled. When Choi Suho slowly pushed himself up with both hands and raised his head, the laughter around them teetered on the brink of exploding.
The spark that ignited it was her.
“Hahaha—ahhahahaha!”
She clutched her stomach and burst into laughter. Jang Jihae laughed too. The others followed suit. But Jang Jihyeok couldn’t laugh. He turned his gaze away from Choi Suho—who had thrown away even his crutches and his pride to say I’m sorry for being born.
Smack!
“Why?!”
In that instant, she slapped Jang Jihyeok across the face. Jang Jihyeok, who had kept his mouth tightly shut until then, finally spoke.
“Even so, it’s Father’s funeral. This is too much, Mother.”
“What? Too much?”
She sneered, then struck and clawed at Jang Jihyeok’s face wildly before pointing at Choi Suho, who was still slumped on the ground, unable to stand. She screamed, venom spilling from every word.
“Why? Because it disgusts you to see your bastard treated like that?”
“Mother!”
Choi Suho’s eyes widened blankly.
What?
The relatives clapped hands over their mouths, stunned by what they were hearing for the first time, watching the argument unfold between her and Jang Jihyeok. Jang Jihyeok grabbed her wrist, shouting, “Mother, stop!”—but she kicked his shin with the pointed toe of her shoe and screamed back.
“Why should I stop?! Why am I the only one who has to endure this?! Why?! Why should I have to endure the trash you father and son created?!”
“Mother, Choi Suho is not my child! He’s Father’s son! You’re mistaken!”
“And how am I supposed to believe that?!”
She screamed as tears scattered from her eyes, then grabbed Jang Jihyeok by the collar and sobbed.
“How could you do this to me? How could you……!”
“Oh.”
A sound slipped from Choi Suho’s lips, as if everything had finally fallen into place. Now he understood why, whenever he visited the main house, she’d looked at him with such visceral hatred.
Choi Juho—my biological father—is……
“Don’t look at me like that.”
Jang Jihyeok spoke quietly as he looked at Choi Suho. He pulled his mother away, then grabbed Choi Suho’s arm—still unable to rise from the floor—and forced him upright. He even picked up the crutches himself and shoved them into Choi Suho’s chest with a dull thud before leaning in to whisper.
“Don’t worry. We already did the genetic tests. Father was a very suspicious man.”
“What……?”
Jang Jihyeok let out a crooked smile as he whispered back.
“It means I could’ve been your father. Not your hyung. Maybe that’s why you subconsciously didn’t want to call me hyung.”
“No.”
“That pull of blood—it’s like that. Anyway, because of you, even pointless truths ended up coming out. You really are something.”
As he said that, Jang Jihyeok shoved Choi Suho lightly in the chest and muttered as if it were nothing.
“Just like Mother said—you shouldn’t have been born.”
Jang Jihyeok pushed him backward. He should have fallen, but there was a hard body behind him that caught him. Then—thud—a fist flew out and smashed into Jang Jihyeok’s cheek. A moment later came the sound of Jang Jihyeok crashing backward without even managing a scream.
“What the hell is that bastard doing?”
“At the Chairman’s funeral, what kind of nonsense is this?!”
“Drag him out, now!”
“That bastard! That illegitimate piece of trash!”
“Choi Suho, if you hadn’t come, the Chairman could’ve closed his eyes in peace!”
Held in someone’s arms, dazed, Choi Suho touched his lips as a sharp, electric sensation reverberated through his chest. I’m sorry for being born almost slipped out reflexively—but the force gripping his arm and dragging him into the crowd made him swallow the words back down.
“……I told you not to come.”
Who is it? Who’s taking me away? The person dragging him by the arm was so tall he had to look up. His shoulders were broad, his neck thick and pale—exuding raw masculinity. For a split second, he wondered who this man was, but the buzzing crowd and words like “As expected of a bastard—so shameless,” “A bastard with a thick face” drove him instinctively into the familiar, calming haze of pheromones.
He wrapped his arms around the man’s waist and buried his face into his back. Paradoxically, in the midst of being dissected and torn apart by everyone’s tongues, the only person who genuinely worried about him was this man.
“Choi Suho, you……”
A familiar voice reached his ears. It was his father’s wife. Choi Suho’s face drained white, his arms trembling violently around the man’s waist.
“What gives you the right to turn my son into this?!”
