IH Ch 52

Chapter 52

Even after opening his eyes, Hwang Jae-i lay dazed for a while, stretching his arm out to yawn. But feeling something obstructing the motion, he tilted his head in curiosity—only to find a pale face right in front of his nose, causing him to swallow hard.

“……”

Again? The thought came immediately.

With his expression hardening, Jae-i looked at Dohwa. Perhaps sensing that persistent gaze, Dohwa slowly opened his bleary eyes. His still-foggy gaze met Jae-i’s, prompting a reflexive reaction—Jae-i instinctively covered Dohwa’s eyes, about to tell him not to look, to go back to sleep. But just then, Dohwa reached out and gently stroked Jae-i’s head while murmuring,

“…Mm, it’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

Then he placed a kiss on Jae-i’s forehead.

“……”

His mind went completely blank. His thoughts froze as he stared dumbfounded at Dohwa, his gaze stiff. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, Dohwa began rubbing Jae-i’s cheek instead of his head and leaned forward.

Chup—a second kiss, this time on the lips. Soft, tender. Just as he registered the touch, it had already pulled away. The faint sensation on his lips left Jae-i frozen, his whole body stiffening. Whether Dohwa noticed or not, he lightly patted Jae-i’s cheek and mumbled,

“I’m so sleepy…”

He said more, but his words were muffled and unclear as he murmured them in his half-sleep.

His blinking eyes slowly closed, and the only sound came from faint, rhythmic breaths slipping through slightly parted lips. The hand that had been caressing his face gradually slid down and came to rest on his chest. Even after that, Jae-i remained in the same position for quite some time.

When Dohwa opened his eyes, Jae-i was gone.

Stretching languidly while still lying down, Dohwa sighed as his stomach let out a growl.

For some reason, he’d felt hungrier since arriving here. Before, a few nutritional pills were all he had for meals. Maybe eating proper food again had awakened his appetite. Now, even when he wasn’t hungry, someone would pester him to eat just because it was time. This couldn’t be good.

“……”

With a stiff face, Dohwa flinched at the loud thud that rang out, startling him upright. It wasn’t a sound he could chalk up to mishearing—it had been too loud, and he felt the impact.

Getting out of bed, he walked to the closed door and paused briefly before opening it and poking his head out. The house was quiet, but down the hall, he spotted shattered debris. Small fragments littered the ground along with larger ones, and when he stepped toward the living room, he saw the source of the sound.

The wall next to the TV had a large, deep dent. A remote control was embedded at the center. Apparently, it wasn’t just any regular remote—despite being lodged in so deeply, it was only slightly damaged. Curious, Dohwa inspected the TV. A circular crack ran along one edge, the color around it slightly distorted. Aside from that, the screen still functioned—playing breaking news.

[Fungjin Group suspected of embezzlement. Years of exploitative subsidiary practices uncovered in aggressive business expansion.]

[Fungjin’s eldest son implicated in a China-based crypto scam.]

[Fungjin funneled business funds to third countries over several years.]

While headlines continued scrolling at the bottom of the screen, an elderly man appeared on screen—someone who looked well-fed and well-off. Surrounded by reporters outside his corporate building, his face was flushed red as he shoved away cameras. Some reporters mentioned the crimes listed in the captions, asking how he explained them. At that, the elderly man glared fiercely and turned around.

[I’m a man who can live without even needing the law! This is all slander and false accusations! Just watch—I don’t know who’s behind this, but I won’t let them get away with it…!!]

[However, a warrant was issued for his eldest son, Lee Yongseok, just 30 minutes ago. He tried to leave the country on a red-eye flight but was stopped and has since vanished. Did the chairman help him escape?]

[Escape? What escape? What did my boy even do to deserve a warrant?! Are you out of your minds?!]

The moment they brought up his son, the old man became even more agitated. He grabbed a nearby reporter by the collar, demanding to know which outlet they were from and who their boss was.

The violent outburst triggered a flurry of camera flashes, whiting out the screen. Only then did the flustered chairman shut his eyes tightly and turn his head away while his secretaries rushed in to intervene. Arms outstretched, they tried to calm him, shouting that nothing had been definitively proven yet and that these accusations were all illegal. But reporters, refusing to back off, grilled them—asking whether they were really going to pretend not to know the facts shown in the headlines. The secretaries seemed equally flustered.

Ordinarily, conglomerates—so-called people of wealth—had close ties with the media. Even when breaking news dropped, it wasn’t common to see reporters pounce as if they’d been waiting for this. That’s likely why the elderly man came out so complacently, only to be surrounded by reporters. That was when he exploded.

[You think you’ll get away with this?! My grandson is Hwang Jae-i! Do you even know who that is?!]

That’s right—Hwang Jae-i was the grandson of that man. The son of his daughter, who married Hwang Hajin. So the claim wasn’t wrong—at least on the surface. And that, it seemed, was the reason Hwang Jae-i had hurled the remote at the wall.

Fungjin was one of the top logistics companies in the country. To climb to that position, they had exploited subcontractors and stolen technology from smaller companies—illegal activities all around. Each time they were exposed, Jae-i’s name came up. Even though his parents were divorced, Hwang Jae-i was still widely known as Fungjin’s grandson.

Dohwa cautiously looked toward Jae-i. He stood in front of the sofa like a stone statue, his expression completely hardened. Compared to the playful face he’d shown Dohwa before, he now looked genuinely, fiercely enraged.

What should he say? Or rather—was there anything he should say?

While Dohwa hesitated, Jae-i suddenly moved. Striding over with firm steps, Dohwa reflexively looked up—only for Jae-i to walk right past him. He then watched as Jae-i slammed the innermost door shut behind him.

“…He really must be upset.”

Dohwa scanned the wrecked room.

“…Might as well clean up.”

After all, the only way he could earn his keep here was through cleaning.

Dohwa gathered the larger debris and stacked it neatly near the entrance. Since they were chunks of concrete, they couldn’t be recycled—he’d just have to dispose of them all at once later. If he had a broom, it would’ve been easier, but he couldn’t just rummage through the house uninvited. So instead, he picked up the smaller pieces one by one and swept up the finer debris with his hands.

While cleaning deeper into the living room, he came across a sheet of paper on the floor.

“……”

It was a remarkably well-drawn illustration of Hwang Jae-i—like a comic book protagonist.

He gently placed the drawing on the table and pressed the crumpled corners flat with the back of his hand. Should he return it to the storage room? But just then, a commotion behind him made him turn around—prompting a small, surprised gasp.

[Breaking: Chairman Lee Yonggeon of Fungjin makes sudden announcement—Hwang Jae-i is not, in fact, his biological grandson.]

“……”

He shut his eyes tightly at the glaring headline, then opened them again. The breaking news continued to roll.

They really dropped that bomb?

Not Jae-i, but them?

Unable to comprehend what was happening, he stood there blankly—until a loud slam signaled the door bursting open. Dohwa flinched, then instinctively reached for the TV screen as Jae-i’s approaching footsteps and the news scrolled on. His hand transformed into something sharp and pointed—and stabbed straight into the center of the screen.

With a dull thud, the screen went black, and Jae-i appeared holding his phone in one hand. He’d apparently taken a shower in the meantime—water still dripped from his wet hair. Amid all this, Ahn Yuna’s voice could be heard through the phone.

[Guildmaster, this is not a simple issue. If you were going to go after Fungjin, you should’ve at least given us a heads-up—]

Only now learning of the situation, Ahn Yuna was clearly agitated. It felt to her like the once-quiet Hwang Jae-i had finally caused a major scandal.

Of course, there was still no confirmation that Jae-i was behind this—but her intuition told her with 99% certainty that the Guildmaster had done it. That’s why she continued to criticize him for not considering the aftermath when pulling off something this significant.

Jae-i, annoyed by the noise, lowered the phone and looked at Dohwa crouched in front of the table. Their eyes met, and Dohwa blinked—then nervously brushed his hand over the nearby floor. Seeing the small shards of debris gather under Dohwa’s hand, Jae-i scanned the living room. It was noticeably tidier than when he’d entered. Lifting his gaze, he raised an eyebrow.

The TV screen had gone black. Walking over, Jae-i noticed a tiny hole in the center.

“What’s this?”

Muttering to himself, he rubbed it with his fingertip before turning around.

Dohwa stood holding some of the broken wall fragments in his hand. As he subtly edged sideways, Jae-i narrowed his eyes, just as another voice called out, “Guildmaster—!”

[We just confirmed something from Fungjin’s side…!]

Whereas earlier she’d tried to maintain composure while scolding him, her tone now was different. Clearly shaken, Ahn Yuna paused before carefully continuing.

[The chairman himself admitted out loud… that you’re not his blood relative.]

“……”

[How could this happen? Regardless of whether it’s true, just saying that publicly puts them at an even greater disadvantage.]

Despite her muttered disbelief, Jae-i showed no reaction.