TCBW C96

Chapter 96

What he reached was a child’s bedroom that did not exist anywhere in Dowoon’s memories.

It was a place filled with warm yellow sunlight, toys and books scattered everywhere. By anyone’s standards, it was the bedroom of a deeply loved child.

“Dowoon?”

As young Dowoon looked around, a young man dressed him in warm clothes.

Dowoon lifted his head and looked at the man before him.

Strangely enough, the man resembled Dowoon.

Yet Dowoon had no idea who he was.

This could not be dismissed as a mere panorama glimpsed before death—it was not something that existed in Dowoon’s memories.

Still, he knew one thing with certainty: the child reflected in the mirror, barely five years old, was undeniably himself.

“Hm. As I’ve always said, there are many important things in this world—money, status. But there are things far more important than those.”

As Dowoon tried to make sense of the situation, the man spoke earnestly, pouring out words far too complex for a child to fully grasp.

“Did you finish dressing Dowoon?”

At the sound of a slightly higher male voice behind him, Dowoon turned his head.

There stood a slender omega man.

When he entered, the man dressing Dowoon made an awkward expression.

“Huh? Why does Dowoon look like that? Don’t tell me you said something unnecessary again in front of a kid?”

“No, he’s smart. He understands everything. Might even be a genius.”

“Genius or not, don’t say things like that to a child.”

Though the omega man scolded him lightly, his other hand gently brushed the arm of the man who resembled Dowoon.

The two bickered as they naturally pulled each other into an embrace, and from their bodies rose a calm, uncontrived blend of stable pheromones.

Yet to Dowoon, all of this was utterly unfamiliar.

The child before him was clearly his younger self, and yet this memory felt entirely wrong.

He wondered if this was an ideal family he might have dreamed of deep in his subconscious, or perhaps a fantasy his childhood self had once imagined.

“All right, let’s go. Your older brother will be waiting.”

At the omega man’s words, the man resembling Dowoon took young Dowoon’s hand and led him out of the room.

It was a hand he had never even held with his biological father, Chairman Lee—yet instead of feeling awkward, it felt strangely nostalgic.

Outside, a blue compact car was waiting.

The omega man got into the driver’s seat, while the man who looked like Dowoon placed the child in the back seat and sat in the passenger seat.

The car soon merged onto the road, windows open, letting warm air rush inside.

The cabin filled with languid breezes and the sound of the two men’s conversation.

“But you know… what do you think Dowoon will grow up to be like?”

“If he looks like you and turns out to be an omega, wouldn’t he be adorable?”

Trivial jokes. Gentle laughter.

A peaceful scene he had never experienced, yet one he might have dreamed of at least once. Within that warmth, Dowoon felt a foreign sense of calm.

Then suddenly, a road that felt eerily familiar entered his vision. At the same time, a sense of dread crawled up his spine, along with the thought that they should not go any farther.

But the car turned onto the familiar road without hesitation—and in that instant, the world flipped upside down.

With a deafening crash, the yellow sky was dyed red.

Though his ears rang dull and muted, filled with the sound of tearing metal and violent collisions, one voice calling him cut through with piercing clarity.

“Dowoon!”

Even amid shattered windows and crushed metal, the man who looked like Dowoon called out to him desperately.

The vivid scene faded and was swallowed by darkness almost immediately after.

How much time passed after that?

In a pitch-black void where nothing existed, he heard someone calling him.

“Dowoon-ssi.”

From behind, he felt a familiar hand grasp his own.

A small, soft hand, and a voice mixed with tears—entirely different from the man who had been crushed beneath the wreckage moments before.

He did not need to turn around to know who it was.

Was this meant to let him look his fill before dying?

If so, it was nothing short of torture.

It felt like someone mocking him, telling him to enjoy it while he still could.

Dowoon turned around.

Suhoe was crying, his hand slipping free from Dowoon’s.

Dowoon knew that the Suhoe before him was not real. But even so, he was certain of one thing.

If he died, the real Suhoe would cry like this too.

That was the kind of person Suhoe was—someone who could not even take proper care of himself, who would suffer for days and nights on end.

Someone who would throw his own body into danger just to save a single bird.

And even if he managed to forget that, he might still lie awake at night, trembling alone with anxiety.

So even as Dowoon believed what he was seeing to be a death-bound panorama, he could not bring himself to leave Suhoe behind.

In the end, Dowoon knelt and approached the crying apparition of Suhoe. He wrapped his arms around those shaking shoulders and pulled him into his embrace.

As expected, there was no warmth, no weight.

It was like holding empty air.

Yet within that emptiness, Dowoon felt—paradoxically—a fierce desire to live.

No. At the very least, he could not die and leave this person behind. He had to live.

“Cough—hk… hah….”

At that moment, suffocating pain crashed down on him, and the illusion shattered.

When Dowoon came to, what he saw was the shaking ceiling of the aircraft and an oxygen mask dangling before his eyes.

He reflexively grabbed it and pressed it tightly over his mouth and nose, drawing in ragged breaths.

By any means necessary, he had to live.

And he had to return.

Dowoon focused solely on survival, gasping harshly for air.

It was long after that before the aircraft finally stabilized.

The horrific noise and vibrations ceased, and an announcement informed them they had passed through the turbulence—but the air inside the cabin remained heavy.

Only quiet sobs and the murmured voices of pale-faced passengers could be heard.

“Ugh….”

Around then, Haeeon—who had lost consciousness during the turbulence—opened his eyes.

Clutching his forehead with trembling fingers, he barely sat up. Only after confirming that he was unharmed did he finally release a sigh of relief.

He then instinctively turned to check on his superior—and upon seeing Dowoon looking perfectly fine, began glancing around in confusion, wondering if what had just happened had been a dream.

After all, Dowoon looked far too composed to be someone who had just ridden a plane on the brink of crossing the river of death.

Not a single strand of hair was out of place. Not a wrinkle marred his shirt.

Amid scattered documents, shattered glass, and terrified people, he alone seemed to exist in a different space.

Haeeon’s voice trembled as he asked,

“CEO… was I the only one who experienced that? Or… was it a dream?”

The voice he forced out was thick with fear and shock.

“……”

Dowoon offered no reply.

He only recalled the blood-stained, unfamiliar memory, and the owner of the desperate voice that had called his name after the ear-splitting roar.

When the wheels finally touched the runway and the massive aircraft came to a halt, sighs of relief and sobs erupted throughout the cabin.

The moment the doors opened, Haeeon staggered out, dropped to the ground, and collapsed onto the tarmac.

He was not alone. Most of the passengers scrambled off the plane, only relaxing once their feet were firmly on the asphalt.

In stark contrast, Dowoon alone walked toward the airport lobby with an unruffled stride amid the chaos.

He stopped when several men in black suits blocked his path.

“Chairman Han has sent a car.”

Soon, the car they boarded came to a stop at the appointed location.

It was a high-end private establishment, surrounded by tall walls and heavy iron gates.

“Well, you’re here, President Lee.”

Dowoon’s towering figure stood before Chairman Han—a frail old man barely half his size.

The overwhelming presence radiating from Dowoon’s solid build should have been intimidating, yet Chairman Han deliberately lowered his tone, feigning boldness.

“So, have you been well? This is our first private meeting. You don’t resemble Chairman Lee much. Rather…”

He was clearly trying to lighten the atmosphere, but Dowoon was not a man who indulged such attempts.

“Chairman Han.”

“Y-Yes?”

“I will be very clear. I am here as a victim of an illegal drug.”

Dowoon stated calmly and firmly, meeting Chairman Han’s eyes directly as he defined his position.

The old man, forgetting what he had been about to say, lowered his gaze without realizing it.

“Ah… yes. Of course.”

He naturally stepped aside to let Dowoon take a seat.

Dowoon, as if he already knew where he belonged, walked with quiet dignity to the seat of honor at the dining table.

Haeeon followed and stood against the wall directly behind Dowoon’s seat.