One week ago;
Seoul, South Korea.
The headlights of the sedan sliced through the thick evening fog that clung to the streets of Seoul, casting brief glimpses of empty sidewalks and shuttered storefronts.
Inside, the soft glow of the dashboard lights illuminated the face of a woman slumped against the passenger seat.
Her hair, tousled and wild, spilled over her shoulders. Smudged eyeliner framed half-lidded eyes, staring blankly at the glittering city beyond the window.
"Did you have to drink that much?" her husband asked, glancing sideways at her. His voice contained a slight irritation.
"Success tastes better with champagne, Honey," Kang Saeri mumbled in a lazy tone. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the headrest, a half-smile curling her lips. "Well, I did so much service for my fan club. I deserved a few glasses of champagne."
"Yeah, you surely did great service to all of your guy and lesbian fans." Mingsu scoffed at her remark, looking straight down the road.
Saeri's muddled eyes glare at her husband, and she shouts in a drunken stupor. "Hey! We have been through this already. The scene demanded a near-topless act. And we used a body double. I'm not even the one who is in there. What are you so bitter about?"
"But for the rest of the world, it is Kang Saeri, not some girl named Im Sujin. You don't read the articles that are bashing you left and right?" Mingsu calmly responded to her, his eyes still on the road, focused on the driving as it was going at more than 80 kph—the limit where one can drive on city roads. "You aren't just an A-list celebrity. You are also a Platinum-ranked hunter and a mother at that."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever… save those lectures for when I'm sober…" She complained aloud in a drunken voice before lightly dozing off into sleep.
His eyes flicked toward her, hardening a little bit, but before he could continue his conversation, the sharp trill of her phone cut through the quiet. Her hand fumbled lazily at the side pocket of her coat, eyes still closed, but the persistent ringing continued.
"Ugh, just..." She pushed the phone toward him. "You deal with it."
Mingsu sighed, taking the phone from her with a quiet shake of his head. Glancing at the screen, his brows knitted together. "Dear, it's your uncle."
At this, she didn't stir. Still motionless, still somewhere between dreaming and the haze of alcohol.
He swiped to answer. "Hello?" "Hello Hyungsoo-ssi, this is Park Mingsu. Yeah, Saeri-ssi is too tired. She is taking a rest."
The voice on the other end was hurried, low. "No, wake her up. It's urgent. Saeri-yah's father is…"
Mingsu listened for a second, and then his eyes widened. His hand clenched the phone a little tighter. "What? Hospital?"
"Hospital?"
Saeri blinked, her head turning sluggishly toward her husband. "What happened?"
His face was unreadable, eyes locked on the road, fingers tightening around her phone.
"Give it to me," she said, voice hoarse.
He hesitated for a fraction of a second before placing the phone in her outstretched hand. She cleared her throat, gripping it tightly. "Uncle? What happened?"
"Saeri-yah, it's your father." Her uncle's voice was filled with sadness. "He's in the hospital. And the situation looks bad… quite bad."
A breath hitched in her throat.
Her father. The man who made it to Senior Superintendent General by the time of retirement, the man who is one of the few people who pushed for the legalization of hunters in South Korea during the time when the awakened people did whatever they wanted, yet ignored her and her brother every single time they need emotional support.
Even when her mother died, her dad was busy with something important.
Her dad never cared to ask her when she returned home with injuries from the dungeon.
Even when she made it to the Platinum rank, her dad didn't send any congratulations to her.
Even when she entered the fashion industry and later into the entertainment field, he didn't care.
And even when she accepted Mingsu's proposal of marriage and they set a date, her father simply agreed and didn't care enough to have a proper talk with her husband either.
And yet.
Her fingers curled around the phone, knuckles white. The small, wounded part of her—the part that had once craved his approval—stirred.
"He wants to see me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes," her uncle said. "Come as quickly as possible. He might not have much time."
She exhaled, long and slow, pressing her palm to her forehead. The remnants of champagne in her system felt like poison now, curdling in her stomach.
Her husband glanced at her, waiting.
"Take me there," she said.
The hospital smelled of antiseptic and quiet desperation. The lights overhead buzzed softly as Kang Saeri strode down the corridor, her heels clicking against the polished floor, eventually reaching the VIP section.
She already knew. Before the words were even spoken, before the pity in the nurse's eyes reached her, she knew.
"They're not coming, are they?" she murmured.
The man waiting outside the hospital room, her father's longtime assistant and a family friend with whom she had a close bond, hesitated before shaking his head. "Your brothers... Your step-brothers, they made it clear they wouldn't come."
A bitter chuckle escaped her lips. "Of course, they wouldn't. They hate him even more than me."
With a deep breath, she pushed open the door.
Her father lay in the hospital bed, a pale ghost of the formidable police officer he once was.
Wires and machines kept him tethered to life, but just barely. His eyes, sunken but aware, flickered open at her entrance.
For the first time in years, he looked at her—not through her, not past her, but at her.
"Saeri-ya," he rasped, voice fragile as paper.
She hesitated at the threshold, years of resentment pressing against the walls of her chest. But then, she stepped forward and kneeled to the bed's height.
He lifted a trembling hand, and without thinking, she moved closer. His fingers brushed against her cheek, an unfamiliar gesture.
"I wasn't... a good father," he whispered. "I can certainly see that now."
A lump formed in her throat. She responded. "Appreciating that on your deathbed is a little late, don't you think?"
His lips twitched—a ghost of a smile, or maybe just pain. "It is. But I wanted to see you. To say... I regret it. Not being there. Not... seeing my sons one last time. I always wanted my children to stand on... their own feet. But... in that process, I... wronged you all. I'm sorry. At the very least… You and your brothers are doing well in life. I'm proud of you all…. I… I… wish I could have also seen Sungjun for one last time… or atleast knew whether he is still alive or dead…"
"Appa!" Her chest tightened. After a brief hesitation, she spoke. "Sungjun is actually…"
Before she could finish the sentence, a deep, shuddering breath rattled from his frail body. His fingers loosened against her cheek. The machines whined, the beeping slowing, stretching further apart.
Silence filled the room for a while.
Kang Saeri stood there, staring at her father. Her vision blurred, but no tears fell.
*
Present day, St. Petersburg, Russia;
"Ha" "Ha" "Eiiya"
In the front yard of a mansion, a teenage girl darted forward, fists flying, as her father effortlessly evaded each strike. Her kicks sliced through the air, but he sidestepped with ease, a smirk constantly appearing on his lips as if to agitate her.
"Argh… c'mon, Dad. Let me hit you once." Han Jiyeon huffed, throwing another jab at Sungjun's face.
Sungjun leaned back just enough to let her punch slip past his chin. The bionic eye under his left contact lens glowed faintly as Eva processed Jiyeon's movements with razor-sharp precision. He let out a smirk. "Sorry, munchkin. Victory cannot be handed on a platter. You have to take it by your hands."
In fact, Eva's analysis was so accurate that it almost seemed like quantum artificial intelligence was predicting the future, calculating the probability of JIyeon's next move in real time. As for Neo, which was stuck to Sungjun's soul, it could only spectate and record the fight, using his eyes as the medium.
Birth name: Han Jiyeon (Veronika Alexandrovna Han)
Age: 14
Ethnicity: Korean/Belarusian
Citizenship: Russia
Arcane Path: Shapeshifter
Current Rank: Tier-9
Ability: Lightning Wolf Transformation (Max: Tier-3)