The Villainous Director Is Raising a Child!

"M-Ms. Dohee?"

I stared at her in horror.

But she didn't seem to hear me at all — her eyes were locked solely on the cushion with Chae Junhyeok's face plastered across it.

A world away from the impeccable elite persona she'd shown that morning.

What on earth has gotten into her? — the thought threw me for a moment, but soon a flash of realization struck.

A meticulous government insider — a high-ranking one, no less — drooling over a cushion with my face on it? No way….

Just then, she went all in — hugged the cushion tight, rubbed her cheek against it with a rapturous look, and started giggling heh heh.

Seeing madness that convincing — creepy enough to raise the hair on the back of my neck — actually made me more certain.

This is… an act!

My god… government top brass really are on a whole other level. How does she get into character that fast…!

To hold up my end of her stellar performance, I ramped up into an even more vicious fit.

"Blow this godawful room up, now! Before I torch the whole thing to the ground!"

When I shouted and made to trash the place, the owner freaked out and threw himself flat on the floor, sprawled out.

"Absolutely not! Do you have any idea how much the members pump in every month in subscription fees to keep this room going?!"

"I'll cover your damn subscription fees — get rid of it right now!!"

"Oh, how mu — no, no! However much I love money, I can't do that. This is about the solid trust between me and our VVIP members!"

"Trust my ass! You're only saying that because you make even more off the merch you peddle out of it!"

While we were wrangling, Ma Dohee cut in and piled on with a storm of acting.

"That's right! I'll pay ten times — sell it all to me, I'm telling you!"

After the three of us tangled at it for a long stretch, in the end I was the one who threw up my hands.

"Haaah… fine. Leave it. But raise the entry bar for this room, hard!"

"Entry bar?"

"Yeah. It's disgusting having new members daring to gawk at my face. Open it up strictly to VVIP or above — only the guys who've poured serious money in — and keep it discreet and limited. Got it?!"

It was my tearful last-ditch bid to keep this out of the public eye.

"That's our Emperor for you. So merciful!"

The owner popped up as if he hadn't just been sprawled on the floor, gave one clap, and shoved me forward.

"Right, right, that's enough of this place — let's hurry to the next course! Time to see the long-awaited final spot, isn't it?"

Smoothly steered out of the room by the owner's oily coaxing, I stepped into the corridor — and with a clap of his hands, like a magic trick, a new door slid smoothly into being on the wall.

The owner led the way, opened the door, and we followed carefully.

And the sight that unfolded on the other side.

"Haaah……."

I sank into a despair far deeper and more remote than what I'd just felt in that awful merch room.

A dizzyingly tall marble staircase. At the top sat an enormous golden throne, blazing bright enough to hurt the eyes.

But a chair like that I could just write off as Roman-style décor.

The truly horrifying monstrosity was somewhere else.

"Our Junhyeok looks fantastic, doesn't he? He burned through ten painters on this portrait because he wasn't satisfied with the details, ha ha!"

On the wall above the chair the owner proudly pointed to, Chae Junhyeok's face was plastered enormously large, glowing as if it had its own light source built in.

And not just that — draped in the sort of red toga you'd expect on an ancient Roman emperor, and topped with a dazzling golden laurel crown.

This guy genuinely enjoyed this crap?!

The shame had me wishing for a mouse hole to crawl into, but the owner delivered the finishing shot.

"Well, up you go!"

"……up?"

"Huh? Every time you came to the club, you always went up there first. What's with the reaction now?"

I wanted to drop everything and run.

But…

Direektuh!!!

The kids' bright, laughing faces flashed through my mind.

I clenched my back molars hard enough to grind.

I can do this. I can do this.

Remember doing the X-roro¹ dance with the kids in front of a hundred parents, body creaking through every move…!

Compared to that day, this is nothing…!

"…urgh…."

I swallowed back the something boiling up inside and drew a deep breath.

"Right… up we go…"

Legs shaking like a condemned man's, I dragged myself up the dizzying golden staircase.

The moment I finally reached the top and turned around.

Ka-chunk—! Whrrrrp!

Hundreds of terrace doors flung open in unison, and gold-masked figures came pouring out, raising their champagne glasses.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

"Emperor! Emperor! Emperor!"

A cheer huge enough to feel like an earthquake.

In the middle of that bizarre fervor, I stood dazed beneath my own enormous portrait.

"Everyone, quiet—! His Majesty is speaking!"

At someone's shout, an eerie silence fell over the Colosseum.

Hundreds of eyes fixed on my lips alone.

What am I supposed to say?

Cold sweat poured down my spine.

My darting eyes flew urgently to the owner down below.

[The! Usual! Line! That! One! Say! That!]

What is it!!!

I ran my brain, now on full emergency footing, at max throttle.

A line Chae Junhyeok would drop at this club.

The line hundreds of them are waiting to hear.

The shout free-spending Chae Junhyeok is famous for letting out every time he first walks into the club.

Don't tell me….

At the phrase flashing through my mind, I swallowed dry, squeezed my eyes shut, and shouted loud enough to bring the Colosseum down.

"Tonight, the drinks in this place are all on me!!!!!"

It was the perfect answer.

"WAAAAAAH!!!!"

"Long live His Imperial Majesty!!!"

"Hey! Ten more bottles, right now!!!"

A cheer twice as loud as the last one erupted — a crazed roar fit to bring the ceiling down.

Nailed it…!

Relief buckled my legs.

Chewing on the timeless truth that east or west, past or present, the guy buying the food and drinks is king, I hurried down the stairs.

The owner, waiting at the foot of the platform, was already grinning ear to ear.

"Kyaaah! That's our Junhyeok! I knew you'd come through today too! Chae Junhyeok, best of the best!"

Blessed by the grace of capitalism, the owner kneaded my shoulders and fawned all over me.

"Enough of that — go fix me dinner so I can fill my stomach."

"Aigo, of course! Perfect timing! The main event's about to start, so eating while you watch will be just right!"

The owner cheerfully led the way to a dead-center VIP terrace with a vivid, sweeping view of the Colosseum's massive sand floor.

Announcing that he'd strip the kitchen bare for his VVIP, he vanished in a shot on a torrent of loud chatter.

A brief peace at last.

Ma Dohee and I dropped onto the roomy terrace sofa side by side, and Kang Taemin, as always, silently held his post behind me.

Trying to pull my wrecked mental state together, I scrubbed at my face dry with both hands, then bowed deeply toward Ma Dohee.

"I'm really… so sorry, Ms. Ma Dohee. All I've shown you is a rotten mess."

From putting my arm around her shoulder without asking to forcing her into an act, I had a mountain of apologies owed.

But Ma Dohee flushed and smiled brightly.

"Oh no, Director. If anything, I had a really fun, wonderful time!"

"What…?"

"I got to see all sorts of glimpses of your past that I couldn't normally see… and it was nice coming back after so long myself."

The shy smile that spread across her face as she said this was, in every sense, purity itself.

Is this person actually an angel?

The fact that there was another sane person inside this deranged club moved me to the verge of tears.

Just then, with loud footsteps, the owner burst onto the terrace.

"Junhyeok! You must be hungry! I brought only the dishes you love!"

With the owner's theatrical shouting, an extravagant spread — enough to threaten the table's legs — of every delicacy of land and sea, along with beer as cold as ice, was set out before us.

I was tipping cold beer down my parched throat, calming my rattled nerves, when —

Paat—!

The gaudy lights all cut out at once, and a single spotlight stabbed down onto the dead center of the Colosseum.

At the heart of the beam stood a man in a toga, a microphone in one hand and a wicked split-tipped whip in the other.

He began to recite verse in an exaggerated, theatrical tone, as if possessed by some great Roman-era poet.

["To this dark underground empire where the sun has set, at last, the resplendent golden sovereign has returned!"]

His voice rang out through the entire Colosseum, grand as if by magic.

["To His Majesty, who has once again graced the long-empty throne — and this very night, has bestowed a merciful toast upon every soul gathered here! On behalf of every citizen of the empire, I offer, from this stage, our boundless thanks!"]

At the dramatic, toe-curling praise, countless eyes on the terraces turned to me once more.

I forced the twitching corners of my mouth up and let out an endlessly awkward "Ha, ha ha……." of a hollow laugh.

The MC bowed deeply and theatrically toward me, then turned to the crowd and shouted in a voice edged with madness.

["Tonight's main event will proceed under the very rules His Majesty devised himself — the rules he most favored!"]

As the MC thrust his microphone hand up, the spotlight swung to the massive iron-barred gates sealed shut at either end of the sand floor.

["A blood festival to the death — one that ends only when a single heart stops! A slaves' duel on the brink of the abyss!!!"]

"……what?"

A stupid sound leaked out of my mouth.

"WAAAAAAAAAH!!!!"

"Kill him!! Let's see some real blood tonight!!!"

"Drag their guts right out!!!"

As if my bewilderment didn't matter in the slightest, hundreds of people howled like beasts and pounded on the railings.

Just as that overwhelming madness caught in my throat and choked off my breath, the iron gates opened with a screeeeech— and two shadowed figures stepped, one heavy foot at a time, onto the sand.

["Presenting today's slave gladiators! 'The Blind Knight' and 'The One-Armed Fighter'!!!"]

"……!!"

I barely managed to keep myself from springing to my feet.

It was dizzying — as if a hammer had struck my head.

The state of the two men who'd walked out into the Colosseum was ghastly beyond words.

One had blood-stained bandages wound tight over where his eyes should have been; the other had his right arm severed clean off below the shoulder, his empty sleeve flapping.

Both wore nothing but leather harnesses and short trunks, ancient Roman gladiator style, their bare skin — covered in savage scars — laid bare under the lights.

What was especially grotesque: both men had a blood-red jewel embedded straight into the raw flesh, dead center in the navel.

["Previously, the rule was that the match ends once enough blood is drawn. But on a day like today, with our great Emperor's return, we can't end things so tamely, can we! Tonight we apply the Emperor's special rule — the match doesn't end until one of them is reduced to a slab of meat!"]

Amid the pouring cheers, the MC wore a bloody-tinged smile.

["Now, before we get to the real betting, it's time to review the histories of tonight's slaves! First, on the right! The Blind Knight, who lost his sight completely to a monster's acid during a Gate clearing years ago!"]

At the MC's exaggerated gesture, a dazzling spotlight poured down over the blindfolded knight.

["Once a promising A-rank Awakened, he was miserably cast off by his guild right after the accident — a tragic tale. But his current record: 143 fights, 128 wins! Every inch our Icarus's ace!"]

"Whoooo!! Carve him up again tonight!!"

Following the crowd's mocking excitement, the MC quickly swung his hand toward the opposite side.

["Facing him, on the left! The One-Armed Fighter, who lost his right arm to a Gate trap! He wields a B-rank steel-hardening ability that turns his body to steel — and today he's been completely pushed out of the industry! Current record: 87 fights, 45 wins! Will he pull off a miracle victory against the ace tonight?!"]

"Woohoo! Come on, Fighter!! We're counting on you!!!!"

["Now, ladies and gentlemen! Open your wallets! Knight versus Fighter — whose blood will soak the sands of this Colosseum tonight?! Start your bets — right now!!!"]

"Fifty million won on the Knight!!"

"I'm putting a hundred million on the Fighter! Show 'em the power of the underdog!!"

Wagers began pouring in like mad from VIP rooms all across the venue.

At the heart of that revolting blood-red festival, I felt what it was to have every drop of blood in me run cold.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!