Hero Hunter is on Parental Leave C30

1. Chapter 30 

The moment Yeongung saw the lights off in Unit 303, a weary sigh slipped from his lips.

“Guess he’s still not back…”

‘I have errands to take care of today. I’ll see you at home after you get off work.’

Whatever business Won Iheun had must be taking much longer than expected.

Sensing his omega father’s drooping mood, the baby pressed his soft cheek to Yeongung’s.

“Bya…”

The warmth snapped him back to himself. Mustering a smile to reassure the child, he murmured,

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Come on, let’s go inside and eat.”

You may not notice when someone arrives, but you certainly notice when they’re gone. They had been apart for barely half a day, yet the absence felt unbearably large. Perhaps because even when Yeongung swatted him away like a mosquito, even when he made it clear how annoying he found him, the man had never once backed off—clingy like a burr that refused to loosen.

He carried the baby down the dim hallway that felt strangely dreary today, then unlocked the door.

Beep-beep.

He set Jaehee’s bag on the shoe cabinet and removed the child’s shoes. As expected, the large pair belonging to Iheun was nowhere in sight. That confirmed it—he truly wasn’t home. Yeongung removed his own shoes and adjusted the baby in his arms, deliberately brightening his tone.

“When we get home, messy toes need cleaning. Who wants to wash up with Daddy? Hand up!”

“B–bya…!”

The baby grabbed Yeongung’s face with desperate little hands, drool dripping down his chin.

“…!”

For an eighteen-month-old, the kid had incredible grip strength; the sudden blow made a small grunt escape Yeongung. Those puffy little fists looked harmless, but their power was anything but.

“My baby, who on earth did you take after to grow so strong? Me? Really? Goodness, look at you.”

He pretended to nibble the tiny fist. The sight of Yeongung nodding to himself made the baby burst into giggles.

“Kyaha!”

When the child smiled, one chubby cheek dimpled deeply—one of the few features he’d inherited from Yeongung. Before giving birth, he had hoped the child would resemble Iheun more, simply because the man’s beauty was so overwhelming. But once he held the baby in his arms, everything changed. That little dimple—his dimple—was more precious than gold.

Of course, even if the child resembled neither of them and had been utterly ordinary, Yeongung would have adored him all the same.

“Daddy loves you.”

Jaehee smiled back, crescent-eyed. Their mirrored dimples deepened… and then a familiar baritone cut through the warmth.

“See? You look alike.”

Won Iheun stood at the bedroom doorway, arms crossed. Who knew how long he had been there.

Look alike? The first day he’d met Jaehee, Iheun had said something similar. Was he talking about himself and the baby?

“Won Iheun…? Were you home this whole time?”

Instead of answering, the man approached, saying something baffling.

“Smile.”

Yeongung scowled. “Why would I smile on command?”

Iheun poked his left cheek with a long finger—right at the spot where his dimple formed. Then he looked between the baby and Yeongung.

“The location, the shape… it’s uncanny. When I first came here, it struck me too.”

So he wasn’t saying the baby resembled him. He was saying the baby resembled Yeongung.

The tension in Yeongung’s shoulders melted in exasperation.

“Of course he does. He’s my kid.”

There was an edge to his tone.

“Aww, little one. Why is your daddy so grumpy today?”

Annoyed, Yeongung tucked the baby protectively into his chest.

At first, he’d been irritated because Iheun left without telling him where he was going. But now… now the suffocation came from something else entirely. Ever since they reunited, both of them had danced around the subject they needed most to confront—the matter of Jaehee.

Anyone on the street would instantly assume Iheun and the baby were father and son. If strangers could see it, surely Iheun had realized it in a heartbeat. Jaehee was his child—blood of his blood—born from Yeongung’s body.

And yet, for an entire month, the man had never once asked.

His silence simultaneously relieved and unnerved Yeongung. People do not change overnight. It was a truth learned through scars.

Even if Iheun didn’t reject the baby today, the moment the fact was spoken aloud—when the truth left his mouth—who knew what monsters the man might reveal? It could all change in a heartbeat.

Part of him wanted to cling to the peace. Another part of him felt betrayed each time Iheun pretended not to see the obvious.

He knew it was irrational. And still, the fear coiled tight in his chest.

Here were the facts as he knew them:

One: Won Iheun did not love him.

Two: Won Iheun despised his own bloodline.

Three: Yeongung, Iheun’s casual partner, gave birth to the very thing he hated most.

List them in order, and an ugly seed of dread began to sprout.

‘Even if the baby were mine for real… it wouldn’t matter.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean? Even if the kid were really yours, you’d still tell the mother to get rid of it?’

‘Obviously.’

His cold voice replayed, scratchy like an old recorder.

“You waited long?”

“…No.”

He answered reflexively, carrying the baby inside, though every corner of his heart felt chilled.

He had been living with flowers in his head. Drunk on a false happiness Iheun had woven, he had ignored the growing dread.

Yeongung, you pathetic idiot.

How long will you keep letting him shake you? You have a child to protect.

Iheun watched his face tighten, then spoke.

“Look at me when you’re angry.”

“…What?”

“Yell at me, snap at me—whatever you want. But look at me when you do.”

“….”

“That fake face of yours drives me mad, and now you won’t even look at my face at all?”

He cupped Yeongung’s jaw and turned it toward him. Only when their eyes met did he seem satisfied.

“You really do have a talent for driving someone insane.”

At that moment, the baby lifted his head from Yeongung’s chest and babbled at Iheun.

“Ji… j… ji!”(yucky)

Yeongung burst into laughter.

“Pfft!”

Iheun scowled. “What? What is he saying?”

“Oh god… he is my kid.”

“Explain.”

“You told me to smile, right? But when Jaehee sees something dirty, I say, ‘Let’s wipe the ji-ji off.’ It’s basically the worst word he knows.”

Even with the fake face, his dimples emerged the same way as always—deep, bright, unmistakable.

“…Sweetheart, one moment.”

Iheun covered the baby’s eyes with his palm—and then he pounced. His teeth scraped Yeongung’s cheek, then his tongue ravished the dimple like a man dying of thirst.

By the time he reluctantly pulled back, he exhaled a raw groan.

“If I had my way, I’d be putting something very different in there. But I’ll restrain myself for today.”

Yeongung—who had been biting his lip to keep sounds in—muttered the only threat he had left.

“…I’m ordering another bed.”

“I kept my promise. I didn’t do anything while the child was watching.”

He tapped the makeshift hand-roof over the baby’s eyes.

“Hah…”

Still holding the baby, he tugged Yeongung toward the closed bedroom door.

“Go ahead. Open it.”

“What…?”

There was no predicting this man. Half nerves, half anticipation, Yeongung turned the doorknob.

The door opened—

—and both father and child gasped.

“Whoa…”

“Wu…!”

The entire room—from floor to bed—was filled with Tintinping dolls and merchandise. And in the baby’s rocking cradle sat the notorious, impossible-to-get Hunter Candy limited edition plush—an item that cost a fortune even if you could find one.

Excited, Jaehee squealed and squirmed in Yeongung’s arms.

“Awu! Wu!”

When the baby was placed in the cradle, Iheun gently placed the plush in his hands and added,

“I washed and dried everything thoroughly. He can chew on them safely.”

That wasn’t what Yeongung had looked at him for, but he kept quiet.

“So… your errand today was this?”

“Jaehee wants to watch Tintinping videos, but you worry about screen addiction. You two fight a dozen times a day about it. So I figured—if he had something he could hold instead of watch, it would help. And naturally, I chose the best.”

“…This is impossible to get even with extra money.”

Iheun gave a small, dismissive laugh—and then, with a seriousness that sent shivers up Yeongung’s spine, he said:

“In South Korea, the only thing I cannot bend to my will… is you.”