Chapter 54: A Thug?

Darkness.

It was everywhere—thick, suffocating, and endless.

Seo-min's small body trembled as he stood in the middle of the pitch-black space, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. His heart pounded painfully against his chest.

Where was he?

His tiny fingers curled into fists as he forced himself to take shaky steps forward. The cold, hard floor beneath his bare feet sent a chill up his spine. The silence around him was deafening.

Panic set in.

He turned toward where he thought the door should be and ran. "Daddy? Seo-jun-hyung? Seo-jin?" he called desperately, his voice breaking.

Nothing.

No answer.

His stomach twisted, and his throat tightened as tears welled up in his big, frightened eyes. "Where are you?" His small voice wavered, cracking under the weight of fear. "I'm scared... please..."

Still, no one came.

The little boy hiccupped through his sobs, his tiny hands rubbing at his tear-streaked face. His heart ached for his father's warm embrace, for his big brother's reassuring voice, for Seo-jin's comforting presence.

Then, suddenly—

A light.

A faint glow appeared behind him, illuminating the darkness.

Seo-min's breath hitched as he slowly turned, drawn to the warmth radiating from the light. His little feet hesitated before taking a cautious step forward, then another. As he moved closer, a familiar sound filled the air.

A voice.

Soft, soothing, and achingly familiar.

Someone was singing.

His father.

Seo-min's chest tightened, a wave of emotions washing over him. He reached out, his small fingers trembling as they touched the light.

The moment his fingertips made contact, a surge of warmth enveloped him, wrapping around his tiny body like a protective embrace. His eyelids grew heavy, and before he could understand what was happening, he let himself sink into the warmth, his consciousness fading.

Morning light filtered through the hospital room's curtains, casting a soft glow over the bed.

Seo-min's eyelids fluttered open.

The sterile scent of medicine filled his nose, but before he could process anything, he felt a presence beside him. His tiny body flinched slightly, his instincts still on edge.

Then, he saw him.

A messy head of dark hair, peaceful yet exhausted features, and a familiar warmth that made his heart ache with comfort.

His father.

The little boy's lips quivered, his throat dry as he tried to speak. His voice came out weak, barely above a whisper.

"D-Daddy..."

At that moment, Seo-woo stirred. The grogginess in his eyes faded instantly when he heard the fragile voice calling him.

Seo-woo's heart clenched. His baby recognized him.

Relief, guilt, and overwhelming love crashed over him all at once.

"Seo-min!" Seo-woo immediately sat up, his hands gently cupping his son's face as if afraid he would disappear. His eyes burned, his vision blurring slightly. "You're awake... you're finally awake."

Tears pooled in Seo-woo's eyes as he pulled Seo-min into a warm embrace, his grip firm yet careful, as if shielding him from the world itself.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wasn't there when you needed me the most... I should've protected you."

Seo-min's tiny fingers clutched onto his father's shirt, feeling the warmth, the safety, the love.

"I was scared," the little boy whimpered against Seo-woo's chest.

Seo-woo tightened his hold. "I know... but I promise, Seo-min, the bad guy won't ever hurt you again. He's going to jail where he belongs." His voice hardened with conviction, but his touch remained gentle as he stroked his son's back.

Seo-min closed his eyes, finally allowing himself to feel safe in his father's arms.

For the first time in a long while, he knew—he was home.

For now, Seo-woo allowed himself to take comfort in the sight before him.

His three sons sat together, their laughter filling the hospital room with warmth. Seo-jin animatedly talked, gesturing wildly with his hands, while Seo-jun chuckled, occasionally nudging Seo-min, who smiled shyly in response.

It was a rare moment of peace.

But Seo-woo knew that beneath those smiles, Seo-min was still healing.

His cheerful son flinched at sudden movements, hesitated before speaking to strangers, and tensed whenever he saw anything remotely sharp. The trauma had carved itself into Seo-min's small frame, leaving behind invisible scars.

Seo-woo's heart ached.

Across the room, Ji-woo and Jung-woo were seated with their laptops open, their fingers rapidly tapping on the keyboards. They had barely left since Seo-min was hospitalized, keeping themselves busy with work and research.

"You both should go back to work and school," Seo-woo said, folding his arms. "It's been a week. You have responsibilities."

Ji-woo didn't even look up. "We can work from here."

Jung-woo smirked. "And it's not like we'll focus if we go back anyway."

Seo-woo sighed. Stubborn. Every single one of them.

Meanwhile, Hyun-woo had already returned home with his family after visiting Seo-min. Even though he wanted to stay longer, Seo-woo reassured him that everything was under control.

Now, a full week had passed.

Seo-min, despite his fears, had expressed his desire to go home.

"Daddy," he had said that morning, clutching onto his father's sleeve. "Can we go home now?"

Seo-woo had crouched down, brushing his son's hair back gently. "Do you feel ready, baby?"

Seo-min nodded hesitantly.

Seo-woo knew that the hospital walls weren't helping his son recover—if anything, they reminded him of the trauma. Home would be better.

As he considered their discharge process, Seo-woo's mind wandered back to the principal's recent visit.

Mrs. Kwon, the triplets' kindergarten principal, arrived unannounced a few days ago and formally apologized for what had happened. She was accompanied by Mr. Lee, the triplets' homeroom teacher.

Both had stood before Seo-woo with solemn expressions, knowing full well that they had failed to protect their students.

"We deeply regret what happened to your son," Mrs. Kwon had said, bowing low in front of him. "We failed to ensure the safety of Seo-min and the other children. We take full responsibility, and we promise that it will never happen again."

Seo-woo had watched them carefully, his emotions a tangled mess.

On one hand, he appreciated their sincerity. He could see the guilt in their eyes, the weight of their mistake pressing heavily on their shoulders.

But on the other hand, could he trust them again?

Could he send his children back to a place where his son had been taken right under their noses?

Mrs. Kwon knew in her heart that Seo-woo would not let his children return to the place where one of his sons had been injured. He had not answered them that day.

Instead, he had simply said, "I'll talk to my children about it first."

Now, as he watched his sons laugh and play, that question still lingered.

Should he transfer them to another school?

Would Seo-min feel safer somewhere else?

Seo-woo let out a quiet sigh, making a mental note to sit down with his children and discuss it soon.

For now, all that mattered was bringing Seo-min home.

---

Seo-woo exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as he and his children finally arrived home from the hospital. The familiar scent of their house, the warmth of the space they knew so well—it should have been comforting.

But Seo-min hesitated at the doorstep, his small fingers tightening around the hem of Seo-woo's shirt.

Seo-woo knelt down beside him, brushing his son's bangs away from his forehead. "It's okay, Min-gom. You're home now."

Seo-min nodded hesitantly, but Seo-woo could still feel his grip trembling.

Knowing this adjustment would take time, Seo-woo had already planned ahead. He had informed Jung-woo earlier that the housekeepers should take a temporary leave. Seo-min was still afraid of unfamiliar people, and Seo-woo didn't want him feeling uneasy in his own home.

Jung-woo had reluctantly agreed, though not without sympathy for the housekeepers.

"They rely on this job, Seo-woo," Jung-woo had reasoned.

"I know," Seo-woo had replied, "which is why I'm not letting them go entirely. They can continue working at the main house with Father, you, and Ji-woo for now."

It was a compromise that Jung-woo could accept.

Now, inside their home, Seo-woo turned to his children and said, "Go play in your room for a while. If you need anything, just call me, okay?"

Seo-jun and Seo-jin nodded enthusiastically, dragging a still-slightly-reluctant Seo-min with them. Seo-woo watched as the three disappeared into their room, his chest feeling lighter but his mind still heavy.

A vibration from his phone pulled him back to reality.

Lee Hye-sung: I just heard what happened to Seo-min... Min-ho told me. I had no idea. I'm so sorry, Seo-woo.

Seo-woo sighed before typing a response.

Seo-woo: It's okay. I know you've been busy. Focus on Lighthouse for now.

Just as he hit send, his phone rang.

"Hye-sung?" Seo-woo answered.

"Seo-woo," Hye-sung's voice came through, laced with concern. "I really mean it. I should've checked in sooner. Are you okay?"

Seo-woo pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm fine. Just exhausted."

A pause. Then, Hye-sung cleared his throat. "Actually,... there's something else."

Seo-woo raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"The director of Everyday's Music has been nagging me nonstop."

Seo-woo's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Hye-sung let out a tired chuckle. "He wants to know who the masked singer I brought before was. He's been pestering me about it ever since."

Seo-woo stiffened.

Of course. That performance had drawn attention. He should've expected this.

"What did you tell him?" Seo-woo asked cautiously.

"I didn't say anything, obviously," Hye-sung reassured him. "I didn't want to add more trouble to your plate."

Seo-woo exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks... I appreciate it."

"No problem," Hye-sung said. "Just... be careful, alright? The industry's already curious about you. If you're not careful, people will start connecting the dots."

Seo-woo remained silent.

As if he didn't already know that.

He glanced toward the closed door of his children's room.

For now, his priority was Seo-min's recovery. But sooner or later, he'd have to face the storm that was slowly creeping toward him.

And he wasn't sure if he was ready

The kitchen was filled with the scent of simmering broth and freshly cooked rice as Seo-woo absentmindedly stirred the pot. His other hand held his phone, and his thumb scrolled through social media.

He wasn't one to obsess over trends, but lately, he had been keeping an eye on certain topics. And just as he expected, one particular name had made its way to the top of the trending list.

#JinYuJin #CEO MoonWooSeok #ResidentialAreaSighting

Seo-woo's expression darkened as he skimmed through the articles and posts.

Jin Yu-jin has been seen frequently entering and exiting the private residential area where CEO Moon Woo-seok's house is located. Speculations continue about their relationship...

Seo-woo scoffed, locking his phone.

It was obvious what the media was trying to do. Stir up interest. Confirm suspicions. Push a narrative.

Not that it wasn't true.

Despite Seo-woo unknowingly altering parts of the original novel's plot, some things remained unchanged. And apparently, the love story between Moon Woo-seok and Jin Yu-jin was one of them.

"So even fate doesn't interfere with true love, huh?" Seo-woo mused sarcastically.

It wasn't that he cared. But considering how often Jin Yu-jin had been spotted in that neighborhood, Seo-woo needed to be extra cautious whenever he stepped outside. The last thing he wanted was an unwanted encounter.

Shaking off the thoughts, he turned off the stove and called out, "Kids! Dinner's ready!"

Loud footsteps echoed through the house as Seo-jun and Seo-jin came rushing into the dining area.

Seo-woo smiled but quickly turned to where Seo-min was standing hesitantly by the stairs. Unlike his brothers, he moved much slower, his tiny hands gripping the railing.

Seo-woo immediately walked over, crouching to Seo-min's level. "Min-gom, do you want me to carry you?"

Seo-min shook his head. "I can do it, Daddy."

Seo-woo's chest tightened at his son's quiet determination. He nodded and gently held his arm for support. Step by step, Seo-min finally reached the dining table, and Seo-woo helped him into his chair.

"Are you okay?" Seo-woo asked, his voice soft.

Seo-min gave a small nod.

Seo-woo ruffled his hair. "Let's eat."

Once everyone was seated, they began eating. The atmosphere was peaceful, though Seo-woo noticed that Seo-min was still eating more slowly than usual. He didn't push, simply letting his son go at his own pace.

After the meal, Seo-woo gathered the triplets in the living room.

"There's something I need to ask you all," he said seriously.

The three boys immediately straightened up, sensing the shift in their father's tone.

Seo-woo took a deep breath. "Do you want to transfer to another school?"

Silence.

Seo-jun and Seo-jin exchanged glances while Seo-min bit his lip, his small hands fidgeting in his lap.

Seo-woo waited, giving them time to process the question. Whatever their answer was, he would respect it.

But deep down, he already knew—this decision wouldn't be an easy one.

Seo-woo knew that transferring to another school wasn't a decision to be made lightly.

His children had already built friendships, bonds that meant something to them. If they left, they wouldn't just be leaving behind a school—they would be leaving behind Tae-bin and Jae-hyun, the two boys who had stood by their side.

Seo-woo's mind wandered to the hospital room just days ago. Tae-bin and Jae-hyun had visited Seo-min with their parents, their small faces filled with concern. But the moment they started talking, the worries melted away, replaced by laughter and playful banter as if nothing had changed.

Would taking that away from them be fair?

His thoughts were interrupted when Seo-jun spoke up, his voice steady.

"Safety is the priority," he said firmly. "If we transfer, it's to keep Seo-min safe. I can just invite Tae-bin and Jae-hyun over to play if they're free."

Seo-woo turned to Seo-jin, who simply nodded in agreement, trusting his older brother's judgment.

But Seo-min...

Seo-min sat quietly, his head lowered, his tiny hands gripping the hem of his shirt. Seo-woo was about to ask for his thoughts when he suddenly heard soft sniffles.

Seo-min was crying.

The sight shattered Seo-woo's heart.

Without hesitation, he knelt beside his middle son, gently wrapping his arms around him. "Min-gom, what's wrong?" he asked softly, rubbing soothing circles on the child's back.

Through quiet sobs, Seo-min finally spoke.

"I don't... I don't want to transfer," he whispered between hiccups. "I'll miss Tae-bin and Jae-hyun."

Seo-jun frowned. "Min-gom, that school isn't safe—"

"Seo-jun," Seo-woo interrupted gently, placing a hand on his eldest son's shoulder. "Let's hear him out first."

Seo-woo turned back to Seo-min, wiping his damp cheeks. "I understand, sweetheart. You love your friends."

Seo-min nodded, his lower lip trembling.

Then, as if determined to find a solution, he looked up with teary eyes and said, "What if we bring bodyguards? If we have bodyguards, we don't have to transfer, right?"

Seo-woo's mouth parted slightly, stunned by the unexpected suggestion.

His five-year-old son was negotiating with him.

For the first time in this conversation, Seo-woo didn't have an immediate answer.

Just as the room fell into a heavy silence, a sudden, soft chime echoed in Seo-woo's ears.

A tiny chibi-like figure materialized beside him, floating in mid-air with an all-too-familiar mischievous expression.

System No. 1276 had arrived.

"Hello, host!" the system greeted cheerfully, its tiny hands waving.

Seo-woo said in his mind. "Help me."

Ignoring his exasperation, System No. 1276 turned toward Seo-min and the triplets. "I have to say, Seo-min's suggestion isn't entirely bad."

Seo-woo raised a brow. "You mean the bodyguards?"

"Yes! But instead of having them visibly follow the children around, they should take on different roles—janitors, gardeners, school nurses—so as not to alert everyone at the kindergarten." The system twirled in mid-air before adding, "We want to avoid unnecessary trouble that might draw outside attention."

Seo-woo mulled it over. It was a logical plan. Not only would his children be safe, but the school itself would also benefit from the added security. However, there was another concern—the emotional toll on Seo-min.

As if reading his mind, the system added, "By the way, it's best if Seo-min doesn't transfer right now. A sudden change of environment could worsen his trauma. He needs time to process what happened, and throwing him into an unfamiliar place might do more harm than good."

Seo-woo frowned. "So, what do you suggest?"

"Encourage him to overcome his fear—indirectly," the system emphasized. "If you pressure him too much, he might shut down. But if you gently guide him through situations where he can slowly regain his sense of security, it will feel more natural for him. He won't even realize he's healing."

Seo-woo exhaled deeply, letting the words sink in. Then, turning to his children, he pulled them into a tight embrace.

"We won't transfer," he said softly, his voice steady. "But I'll make sure you're all safe. I'll place bodyguards not just for you three but for the entire kindergarten as well."

Seo-jun nodded firmly, while Seo-jin, though quiet, gave a small smile of relief. But it was Seo-min's reaction that mattered most. The youngest child blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise before his tiny hands clutched at Seo-woo's shirt.

"Really?" Seo-min whispered.

Seo-woo stroked his soft hair. "Really."

System No. 1276 floated closer, its expression unusually serious. "There's one more thing, host. You need to use your voice."

"My... voice?"

"You sang a lullaby to Seo-min in the hospital, remember?" the system reminded him. "His trauma rate decreased from 100% to 95% when you did. Your voice has a calming effect on him. Use it."

Seo-woo stared at the system before glancing down at his son. Seo-min's small fingers clung to him like a lifeline, his wide eyes still tinged with the fear of the past.

That settled it.

That night, Seo-woo decided to sleep with the triplets. The moment he announced it, all three boys cheered—yes, even Seo-min, who had been unusually quiet these past few days.

To make them feel even safer, Seo-woo pulled out a picture book and read The Three Little Pigs aloud. His voice, gentle yet animated, filled the room as the triplets listened, their eyes growing heavy with sleep.

Then, as the last page turned, Seo-woo tucked them in and began to sing.

A familiar lullaby.

A song only for them.

And as his voice flowed like a soft melody, Seo-min, for the first time since the incident, drifted into sleep with a peaceful expression on his face.

---

Inside a dimly lit private room of an upscale bar, Moon Woo-seok swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his gaze distant. The weight of his thoughts pressed heavily on him, and it wasn't just the alcohol making his head spin. Across from him, Choi Min-ho leaned back against the leather couch, casually sipping his drink as he observed his troubled friend.

"Let me guess," Min-ho drawled, amusement lacing his tone. "Jin Yu-jin?"

Woo-seok let out a tired sigh. "That bastard is getting out of control."

Min-ho chuckled, shaking his head. "You should just expose him already. Reveal what you found. If you weaken his influence now, you'll have the upper hand."

Woo-seok scoffed, setting his drink down with a soft clink. "My findings aren't enough." His fingers drummed against the table, his voice laced with frustration. "If I make a move now, he'll slip away. I need solid proof. Evidence that will trap him completely. And more importantly—" Woo-seok exhaled deeply. "I need the perfect timing."

Min-ho took another sip of his drink, unfazed. "Fine. You take your time plotting your grand takedown."

Woo-seok smirked. "But let's not pretend I'm the only one with problems here." He tilted his head, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Your assistant told my assistant that... a young actor from your company has been chasing after you."

Min-ho nearly choked. The whiskey burned his throat as he spat it out. He coughed violently, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Woo-seok smirked, clearly enjoying his reaction. "Oh? Did I hit a nerve?"

Min-ho shot him a glare. "You mean that rude little fox who kissed me in an alley without permission?" His voice was full of irritation, but his ears were suspiciously red.

Woo-seok leaned forward, amused. "So, you admit it. Bae Sung-min, a newly hired actor."

Min-ho groaned, rubbing his temple. "That brat... I should have fired him on the spot."

"And yet, you didn't." Woo-seok's smirk widened.

Min-ho huffed. "You have no idea how much I wanted to. But my subordinates wouldn't shut up about how amazing he was in his interview. They practically begged me to keep him." He downed the rest of his drink in frustration. "Now I have to see that fox's smug face every damn day."

Woo-seok chuckled. "Sounds like he got under your skin."

Min-ho narrowed his eyes, suddenly getting an idea. "Oh? You think? Hmm... I guess my assistant didn't tell your assistant another good scoop." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Well, let me return the favor."

Woo-seok raised an eyebrow. "What are you—"

Min-ho's lips curled into a slow, devious smile. "Bi-yong is one of my people now."

Spit.

Woo-seok choked on his drink, the alcohol going down the wrong way. He coughed violently, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You—what?!"

Min-ho burst into loud, unapologetic laughter, slapping the table as he watched Woo-seok struggle. "That's right. Your precious Bi-yong now works for me. Oh, my mistake, my Bi-yong."

Woo-seok's face darkened. He wiped his mouth and glared at Min-ho, but the latter only grinned wider, clearly enjoying his suffering.

"You bastard," Woo-seok muttered.

Min-ho simply raised his glass in a mock toast. "To my sweet revenge."

Min-ho was still laughing, his shoulders shaking as he raised his glass in triumph. Meanwhile, Woo-seok, still reeling from the revelation, ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Explain," Woo-seok demanded, his voice low and sharp. "How the hell did Bi-yong end up working for you?"

Min-ho smirked, swirling the remaining liquid in his glass. "What can I say? I'm very persuasive."

Woo-seok shot him a deadly glare. He opened his mouth to press further—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A sudden, firm knock echoed through the private room, silencing both men.

Their eyes snapped toward the door.

The air shifted.

The knock wasn't impatient or hesitant. It was slow, deliberate—calculated.

Woo-seok straightened, his sharp instincts instantly on alert. He exchanged a quick glance with Min-ho, who had stopped laughing entirely, his expression shifting from amusement to wariness.

"Who is it?" Woo-seok called out, his tone firm.

Silence.

Then, a deep, authoritative voice rumbled from behind the door.

"Open up."

Woo-seok's fingers curled around his glass, his grip tightening. There was something in that voice—something cold, something dangerous.

Before either of them could react—

Click.

The door swung open.

The two men were caught off guard, their expressions flickering with shock.

A tall figure stepped inside, his presence immediately suffocating. The dim lighting barely softened his sharp, menacing features. His build was broad, his aura imposing, and in his hand, a cigarette smoldered between his fingers.

The scent of smoke curled into the air as he took a slow, deliberate drag. His piercing gaze locked onto Woo-seok and Min-ho, unreadable yet filled with an unspoken threat.

Neither of them spoke.

The room felt smaller.

Min-ho instinctively shifted, placing his drink down, his posture guarded. Woo-seok, though composed, felt the weight of the man's presence pressing against him like an unseen force.

Then—

The man exhaled, a slow, heavy breath of smoke curling from his lips.

And he finally spoke.

"We need to talk."

Min-ho's and Woo-seok's thoughts were in sync: Who the hell is this thug?