Chapter 10

“Grrr—.”

A snow-white cub leopard with sweet, cream-colored fur sat upon the emerald meadow. Bristling with indignation, little Creamie lashed its long, dark-spotted tail sharply against the ground.

Yeongung called out loudly to his precious child—one he could hold in his hands yet never find painful.

“Creamie!”

A nickname borrowed sweetly from whipped cream.

This adorable little being had visited his dreams often ever since the first conception dream. But human greed was endless; with each passing day, his desire to see the baby more often only grew stronger.

Honestly, that cute appearance alone was cheating.

The tiny rounded ears, the soft fluffy fur, the jelly-bean paws of the feline cub—Yeongung’s gaze dripped honey as he looked at Creamie.

“Creamie…?”

But the cub did not budge at the sound of his voice. Instead, it stared fixedly at something, a constant rumbling growl rolling from its throat.

Tracing its line of sight, Yeongung saw it—a cobra with an inflated hood, flicking its thin tongue, poised against the small leopard cub. The venomous serpent hissed sharply, coiling its long, two-meter body as if preparing to lunge.

“That crazy—!”

The instant the dangerous creature shifted toward the cub, Yeongung reacted.

Thud—!

A few seconds were more than enough.

Moving in a flash, he grabbed the snake and slammed it against a colossal tree trunk, thick and ancient like the World Tree. The serpent coughed up dark blood as it sustained internal injuries from his mana.

Fsssh—.

A foul scent rose as black smoke hissed from the tree bark contaminated with venom and bodily fluids.

Lifting its head again, the snake glared at father and son before slipping into the underbrush. Yeongung wanted nothing more than to chase it down, tear its body apart, and pluck out its red eyes—but he couldn’t.

The cub had puffed up all its fur and could not calm down. Creamie clawed anxiously at the traces the snake had left behind, chest heaving.

“Shh… baby, Daddy’s here now. It’s okay.”

He pulled the cub’s neck into his arms and stroked gently until the trembling eased. Only then did the little leopard recognize him, licking his face with a warm pink tongue.

“Haha! Hey—stop, that tickles!”

Creamie then flopped onto its back, belly exposed, demanding more affection. Between playful growls and soft purrs, the cub’s happy sounds melted into the open air of the meadow.

“Is it really okay to leave a child in a place this dangerous…?”

His first conception dream had been peaceful; Creamie was stuffing its face with whipped-cream cake in front of the refrigerator. But this dream was different. Too vivid, too real for comfort, even if it was only a dream.

“Tch. Just my luck. Even in a conception dream, this damned Gate world spawns shady monsters.”

Could the system’s influence reach even here…?

His hand paused while brushing through the fine fur. The cub pressed its jelly-bean paw against his cheek insistently, kneading as if demanding more of his touch. Abandoning his thoughts, Yeongung focused on the baby again.

“Alright, alright… Creamie likes this, huh? Where should Daddy scratch next? Here?”

He intentionally avoided the spot Creamie wanted. The cub growled “Kraang!” and bit his thigh.

“Oh? Looks like someone inherited their dad’s temper.”

Hearing him mutter, the cub tilted its head—and then rubbed its head against Yeongung’s stomach, as if saying, “My dad is right here.”

Completely losing it over how unbearably cute the creature was, Yeongung leaned in and gently bit its little nose. Instead of recoiling, the baby leopard let its eyes flutter with delight. The resemblance to Won Iheun was so striking that laughter escaped him.

“Haaaahm—.”

Stretching both arms toward the ceiling, Yeongung pressed the button on the bed’s headboard to open the blackout curtains. He ruffled his messy hair with a lazy sweep of his hand. Getting out of bed, he automatically slipped into his house slippers—habits ingrained from years of cohabiting with Won Iheun.

Originally, his apartment had been on the floor directly beneath Iheun’s penthouse. But once they began sleeping together constantly, his house became mine, mine became his, and they ended up living mostly here.

After rinsing his mouth in the master bathroom, he walked over to the home café area between the living room and kitchen. He pulled a cup of hot milk with a soft layer of foam.

Sitting on the high bar chair, he closed his eyes and savored the sweet aroma of warm milk under the morning sunlight.

“Ahh… that’s nice.”

As he wrapped his hands around the mug, enjoying the warmth seeping into his palms, the length of the pajama sleeves covering the backs of his hands caught his attention.

Covering his hands…?

Only then did he actually look at the clothes he was wearing. The navy striped pajamas—one of Iheun’s favorites. Easily two sizes too large for him. He had a matching set of his own from the same brand, so it took him a beat to realize these were Iheun’s.

“I just fell asleep? In that situation!?”

There were limits to carelessness. Yeongung buried his face into the bar table and groaned in disbelief—then noticed a yellow sticky note.

“Looks like you didn’t sleep the night we signed the contract either. Seems you’ve been sleep-deprived.

You wouldn’t let go of me, completely drunk on my pheromones, so I dressed you in clothes saturated with them and headed to work. I’ll let the unauthorized touching slide this once. You’re partly to blame.

Text me when you wake. We’re definitely eating the meal we skipped yesterday.

—From your Ex (Sex) Partner, Pretty Lunatic.”

“Ughhhhhh! Kill me now, this is embarrassing!”

Yeongung clawed at his hair, mortified.

“Creamie… Daddy is dying of shame.”

The note from the Alpha was crushed and wrinkled mercilessly in his hand.

I wouldn’t let him go, huh.

Thinking back, he did feel unusually good. His muscles felt loose, as if treated by an expert physical therapist. And ever since the pregnancy diagnosis, he’d felt a mild, constant nausea—yet today, it was completely gone.

So his condition improved… because of Won Iheun’s pheromones?

“Is that… real?”

He pressed his nose into the pajama sleeve and sniffed.

And—somehow—he did feel refreshed.

“…This is terrifying.”

He felt both happy and scared—happy because he felt closer to Iheun, and scared because he wondered if his body was becoming dependent on him.

“No. No way. This is all thanks to Creamie, my baby.”

He remembered the cub rolling over, purring like a tiny beast asking for more pats. He decided to credit his refreshed state to his own child rather than someone else’s son.

“But wait—did that bastard look through my phone? How did he know about ‘Pretty Lunatic’?”

Rrrr—

[Pretty Lunatic]

“GAH! Holy—!”

Right on cue, Iheun called. Yeongung jumped so hard he fell off the chair. The phone rang a few more times before stopping. He clutched his chest and unlocked the screen.

“That’s right. He told me to text when I woke up.”

【To: Pretty Lunatic

From: Yeongung

Perverted ghost.】

“Hmm.”

After sending the wake-up message as requested, his fingers moved again.

【To: Pretty Lunatic

From: Yeongung

Do you have the house bugged?】

Pressing send with dramatic satisfaction, he picked up his mug and headed toward the study.

From the orphanage to now, Yeongung had never truly rested. Before awakening as a Hunter, he had to constantly prove his usefulness to the facility caretakers. After awakening, he worked like a madman, clearing Gate after Gate to pile up wealth quickly. Once he had money, he spent years chasing Won Iheun.

Concealed by his stunning appearance, Iheun himself was an outrageous cheat character—brilliant intellect, immeasurable rank, powerful backing, negotiation ability, social skill. It wouldn’t be wrong to say the Republic of Korea ran on Won Iheun’s existence.

Yet he never stopped pushing himself to extremes—not to prove anything to others, but as if clearing game stages, breaking his own limits. In Iheun’s world, only he himself existed.

Meanwhile, despite his overwhelming power, Yeongung swayed constantly under others’ expectations and gazes. Iheun had been the one to pull him out of that well. He would never forget the day they met—or the moment he fell for him.

“Always guilty, this man…”

Click.

Entering the study furnished with warm wood, he inhaled the fresh wooden scent. Three walls were covered in bookshelves, except for the window.

From antique tomes to rare, out-of-print volumes—books worth fortunes were piled like common décor.

Rattle.

Pushing one section of the shelf revealed a hidden display. Iheun’s little secret. Among the normal books, he kept certain special albums he had created for recordkeeping.

These special albums stored every sensory detail from battles, made for collecting Gate data.

But to Yeongung, they were less like analytical records and more like personal diaries—a chance to peek into Iheun’s past. So whenever Iheun wasn’t home, he would sneak in and read through them. As he was doing now.

“Year 2xxx, Month xx, Day xx—Deputy Prime Minister’s Son Kidnapping Case.”

The album reacted to his unique Hunter wave, sliding out from the shelf. Only two people had viewing access: Won Iheun, and Yeongung.

“Sixteen…”

He opened the album, pulling out a photograph. A sixteen-year-old Won Iheun stood beside eighteen-year-old Yeongung. Iheun looked even younger and prettier back then—beautiful even now, but with an androgynous elegance in his youth.

Another notable detail: both of them were spotless—no injuries, no blood—while everyone else in the photo was a mangled mess.

Looking at the nostalgic image, Yeongung chuckled.

“He was a lunatic even in the seedling stage.”

Makes sense that the guilty little boy grew into a guilty adult.

Who wouldn’t fall for that?

He vividly remembered that day.