L*st and Death

Choi Chigeon.

Could he really have killed their mother?

As Baek Sang recalled the despicable acts his uncle Choi Chigeon had committed in his quest to seize control of the company, he shook his head. Choi Chigeon wasn’t the type to shoot an arrow into the sky not knowing where it might fall. He was the kind of man who wouldn’t risk anything unless he was certain it wouldn’t blow back on him. Sure, he’d had his own son, Choi Seongmin, procure women for Baekgyeong while he was still a minor, and had covertly arranged for drugs to be supplied to his nephew once he arrived in Korea. He’d even bribed Yoon Siron’s manager to expose Baekgyeong’s scandal to the world. But murder? That didn’t suit him.

Everything he did had always been calculated to stay within the boundaries of plausible deniability. If there were even a one-in-a-million chance that arrow might swing back toward him, he wouldn’t take the risk of killing someone. Or—Baek Sang wanted to believe that.

But Baek Sang had combed through their mother’s phone, laptop, and email records, and found nothing overtly suspicious. From her email and cloud storage, all he could glean were a few lines summarizing a recent project she’d been focused on.

Following the global success of erectile dysfunction drug Viragra, Vile Group had expanded into a product line offering similar treatments. The project their mother had been most devoted to until the end was a continuation of that line. The drug, tentatively codenamed Alphasync, wasn’t just for sexual performance—it was a multi-purpose treatment meant to regulate hormone levels and enhance energy.

Even in her email exchanges with company executives, there was nothing unusual. The last email Baek Sang had seen was a routine discussion about strengthening company security policy. Everything was standard, mundane—nothing secretive, nothing to raise suspicion.

So then—who had done it? Who had a reason to murder their mother?

In Baek Sang’s head, the CG reconstruction from the news segment replayed over and over again. The two masked assailants brutally slaughtering their mother and her driver—those images wouldn’t leave his mind.

Was it Choi Chigeon?

Was ruining Baekgyeong’s life with scandal not enough?

Had he gone so far as to take their mother’s life?

Baek Sang suddenly found himself distrusting everything and everyone. The anger that boiled in his chest kept rising, eventually spilling toward Baekgyeong, who still hadn’t come home. What began as a mild irritation turned into seething rage as the hours passed.

In the dim dining room, Baek Sang sat stewing in impatience and fury, waiting for his brother. Why wasn’t he here to share this moment? Why did he choose to ignore something so grave?

When Baekgyeong finally did appear before him, the storm inside Baek Sang fell eerily quiet. The rage that had nearly burst from his chest disappeared like grains of sand slipping through his fingers, replaced by an unexpected sadness and confusion.

It was their first time seeing each other in three years. Since Baekgyeong had his tumor removed, this was the first time Baek Sang had laid eyes on his brother—and he was strangely affected by how much he’d changed. The tumor had clearly affected the pituitary gland, which regulated his growth hormone.

They had once been close in height, but now Baek Sang had to crane his neck to look up at him. His facial bones had grown as well, giving him a more striking, imposing appearance. And yet—he was still their mother’s son, unmistakably.

The moment Baek Sang saw the eyes and brows that so closely resembled their mother’s, tears welled up unexpectedly. The one-sided bond he suddenly felt with Baekgyeong confused him.

Baekgyeong narrowed his thick brows and stared at Baek Sang for a long moment before finally speaking.

“So even you cry in times like this.”

Caught off guard, Baek Sang looked up at him in a daze—then suddenly flushed with anger and raised his voice.

“Of course I do! She died!”

His voice remained heightened as he continued.

“Don’t you feel anything? Is her death less than nothing to you?!”

Baekgyeong gazed down at him with a blank, unreadable face.

He scanned Baek Sang’s face, now more defined than he remembered, and walked past him to the table. He picked up a bottle of water, twisted off the cap, and downed the whole thing in one long gulp before replying.

“I’m sad too. That’s why I went for a drive.”

It was such an absurd thing to say that Baek Sang was left momentarily speechless. It felt like a tax accountant suddenly announcing vacation plans in the middle of year-end reporting.

Baek Sang stared through him and asked:

“A drive?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t shake the sadness. Needed to clear my head.”

With a shrug, Baekgyeong tossed the empty bottle into the trash like a basketball shot. It arced neatly and landed with a satisfying thud.

Baek Sang suppressed the urge to scold his brother’s childish antics. He forced himself to respond rationally, to be the grown-up. He pulled Baekgyeong lightly into an embrace and patted his back.

“We could’ve grieved together. Dad and I were both waiting for you.”

“Oh... right. Dad.”

Baekgyeong wriggled out of the hug, visibly uncomfortable.

“Is he asleep?”

“Yeah. He’s on an IV.”

Baekgyeong sighed and shook his head, almost disapprovingly—as if judging their father’s frailty. At that moment, Baek Sang felt certain: their mother’s death hadn’t left any deep wound or grief in Baekgyeong.

If they hadn’t been blood, this weak tether between them would’ve been cut long ago. His eyes flashed with resentment—but Baek Sang was a dutiful man, determined to uphold the obligations of family.

“Get up early tomorrow and pay your respects.”

“...Sure, whatever.”

Baekgyeong replied indifferently and started up the stairs.

Baek Sang felt a pulsing ache in his temples. From the time Baekgyeong was a child, trying to correct his behavior had been nearly impossible. Whenever their mother or Baek Sang tried to discipline him, he’d glare at them with fiery eyes and spit curses far too venomous for a child. Even after the tumor was removed, that wretched brother of his had barely changed.

Baek Sang followed him upstairs.

Baekgyeong was in their mother’s study. He stood before her now-empty desk, his brow furrowed, anxiously rubbing at it as if the chaos in his head refused to settle.

“Looking for the computer?”

Still staring at the dust where the PC used to sit, Baekgyeong turned toward Baek Sang.

“Police took her phone and computer as evidence.”

“Evidence?”

“Didn’t seem like there was anything special, but you never know. They might find something suspicious.”

“You looked through it too?”

“Yeah. Nothing beyond work-related stuff. Checked her cloud too—same deal.”

Baekgyeong narrowed his eyes slightly, as if weighing his brother’s words.

“What kind of emails did you check? Business, or personal?”

“Both. She had them all auto-logged in. ...Why? Hoping we’d find something suspicious?”

“No, not really.”

“Then why are you so curious?”

After a long silence, Baekgyeong replied, almost like he couldn’t be bothered:

“I just wondered if there were any emails with her lawyers—about the inheritance.”

A sharp flicker of disgust crossed Baek Sang’s face.

“Why? Worried she didn’t leave you a single cent?”

“...Yeah, something like that.”

“Ha.”

Baek Sang laughed with dry, clipped scorn, eyes full of contempt. They had once blamed his brother’s behavior on a brain tumor. But even after it was removed, he was still just a selfish bastard.

Baekgyeong’s personality disorder hadn’t come from the tumor. Even after successful surgery and rehab, he remained flawed to the core. That was who he was. He hadn’t changed at all.

Baek Sang studied him like a parole officer reviewing a convict. Sure, Baekgyeong had reintegrated into society—but it hadn’t taken long for him to fly off to Hel Sota in pursuit of Yoon Siron, the bizarre object of his obsession. And now he was back in New York, shamelessly sniffing around for an inheritance.

The hope he’d briefly felt—that maybe they could mourn their mother together—now felt laughably naïve.

“After the funeral, I’ll bring in the lawyers and proceed with probate. You’ll find out then what she left you. ...Not that you seem to care about honoring her death.”

With a cutting tone, Baek Sang turned and left the study, trailing cold air behind him. Left alone in the room, Baekgyeong thought:

As expected, his brother didn’t know a thing—not about the truth of Stone Creek Psychiatric Hospital, nor the alphas and the secret surrounding them. When their mother had committed Baekgyeong to Stone Creek, she’d sent Baek Sang to head the Korea division of Vile Group. After returning to the U.S., Baek Sang had lived in a luxury Manhattan apartment near headquarters. While their mother prepared to unleash global shockwaves, Baek Sang had been isolated from the truth.

Choi Baekhee had never wanted to share the existence of “alphas” with the rest of the family. And yet, after discovering the potential of this rare trait, she’d become increasingly obsessed with its limitless promise. Like all revolutions, her discovery came with great danger.

The fact that Baek Sang had found nothing suspicious in her email only confirmed Baekgyeong’s suspicions:

Someone had hacked their mother’s email and cloud.

If Baek Sang had seen the messages Baekgyeong and their mother exchanged, he wouldn’t have reacted like he did tonight. And whoever that someone was—they had read the warning Baekgyeong sent her.

Gazing down at the empty desk, Baekgyeong, now sunk in heavy thoughts, sent a message to Park Daniel. They had to find out who had accessed their mother’s mail. Even a single thread of evidence would do.

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