The Villainous Director Is Raising a Child!

Step, step.

Han Jewoon's dress shoes rang out across the marble floor as he cut through the banquet hall, and the target at the end of his gaze came into sharper and sharper focus.

Blond hair flowing under the light, deep gold eyes. A tuxedo without a flaw.

A decently handsome face — but that whole thuggish vibe swallowed it all, so what you were left with in the end was just: ugly personality written all over him.

Next to him, some nerdy-looking guy was stuck close, trembling like he might collapse any second... but he didn't even register in Han Jewoon's field of vision.

"...Interesting."

The corner of Han Jewoon's mouth curved.

He hadn't been imagining it.

The oppressive aura he was leaking — this blond man was taking it head-on without flinching.

This wasn't the punk kid from before, the one who'd stupidly picked a fight without knowing his place.

And above all — those eyes.

Unlike back then, when they'd been nothing but rage and emptiness, something was rooted deep inside them now — a solid core he couldn't see the bottom of.

...This is the real thing.

The instant he recognized it, the blood that had been cooling with boredom in Han Jewoon began to boil, and his heart started to pound with genuine, delighted excitement.

Reaching the man at last, Han Jewoon grinned like a predator and opened his mouth.

"You. What are you?"

How on earth did it come to this?

Fighting to hold my expression together, I faced the man in front of me.

Sirens were blaring inside my head, and cold sweat was running down my spine.

I was still figuring out the right moment to walk up and start something friendly — and out of nowhere, this—!

I'd expected he'd notice I was staring, sure, but I'd figured he'd just ignore it. That he'd walk right up and openly ask what are you — I hadn't dreamed it.

"You gonna ignore me?"

While the thoughts were still ricocheting around in a panic in my head, a hah! — a laugh loaded with disbelief — cut into my ears.

The moment I heard it, my answer shot out on reflex.

"No. Never."

Set on not setting him off, I even fixed the most harmless-looking smile I could onto my face.

At that, Han Jewoon stared at me as though this was highly entertaining.

Whew...!

Coming face-to-face with a main character from the original like this... was rough on the heart.

Cha Yul and the other kids were still young, so they registered less as original-novel characters and more as kids I had to protect.

Lee Jinwoo and the other researchers were just people I'd newly met in this world.

But Han Jewoon was different.

He was... the real thing.

The original's main character. Cha Yul's steadfast mentor. The children's last line of defense.

And... my second-favorite character in this novel, right after the lead.

And here he was, right in front of me... talking to me.

I cleared my throat, ahem, and forcibly steadied my galloping heart.

No need to run the delinquent act on Han Jewoon. If anything, I need to build goodwill with him.

I addressed him in the politest, most upstanding-seeming manner I could manage.

"Guild Master Han. As it happens, there was something I wanted to speak with you about. Could I ask for a moment of your time?"

The interest already in his eyes deepened at that.

"Yeah? Let's hear it."

I sent him a look that said right here? right now?, but he just shrugged.

I took a moment to steady my breathing, then began.

"Have you happened to hear of our Nest Research Institute?"

He gave a small snort and tossed out a sarcastic line.

"Well. I don't know what you people do, but I do know your daddy's been pouring plenty into it."

He looked me up and down and added:

"Backing must be a wonderful thing. Gets a kid without a scrap of ability the Director's chair."

The undisguised sarcasm didn't land on me.

Everything he'd said was true.

"You're right. There's a lot I'm short on, for a Director. Which is exactly why I need your help."

A flicker of surprise crossed Han Jewoon's face, caught off-guard by how readily I'd owned it.

Now.

Not letting that split-second opening pass, I set aside the ugly truth of the institute and, with only my sincere concern for the children in my voice, laid out the pitch.

"Our Nest Research Institute takes in and trains talented Awakened orphans. But most of the researchers, myself included, are unawakened. There's a clear limit to how far we can draw out the children's potential."

I paused, and, putting genuine feeling into it, bowed deeply to him.

"So — please. I'm asking you. Would you... be a mentor to our children?"

Head bowed, I waited for his answer.

My heart thudded, hard.

But I wasn't uneasy — I had faith.

The Han Jewoon of the original... he'll accept my offer. Without fail.

Which is exactly why what he said next was so impossible to believe.

"Why would I?"

The interested look on his face vanished like a lie.

In its place was that familiar I knew it disappointment, and a boredom that said I'm tired of all of this.

He asked back, as if he genuinely couldn't understand.

"Why the hell would I go out of my way for that?"

His reaction — nothing like the original — went off like a flashbang in my head, leaving it blank.

Flustered, I stammered out whatever came into my mind.

"Uh? Th-that's... obviously... because you — you're Han Jewoon."

The man who took in children who had lost everything, asking nothing in return.

The one adult who ever gave them the strength to stand against the world.

The ideal of the kind of adult I, as a kindergarten teacher, had wanted to become.

That was who Han Jewoon was.

The disappointment on Han Jewoon's face turned to cold contempt in an instant.

"Ha! Because I'm 'Han Jewoon.'"

He shot back as though astounded.

"So because I'm Han Jewoon, I obviously have to help a punk like you? Is that it?"

An oppressive pressure — nothing like what he'd been giving off a moment ago — bore down on me from every direction.

There was some kind of misunderstanding, obviously, but the sheer weight of it had words bypassing my brain and blurting themselves out.

"...The compensation — whatever you want... whatever you name...!"

The air around me froze solid in an instant.

A weight I could barely breathe under crushed me from every angle.

Anger, so plain and overwhelming it made me regret the words the moment they were out.

"Kid. You even know who you're offering money to right now?"

"Ah..."

"Raising brats doesn't interest me in the least. Thought you might be a little interesting for a change — turns out I just wasted my time."

I threw out a hand toward his retreating back, desperate.

But before my hand could touch his coat, something invisible slammed down hard on the back of it.

"Ugh!"

Without so much as turning around, he tossed out one last cool warning.

"That's what you get for humoring my momentary whim. If you bother me any more from here... you'll pay for it."

With that, he vanished into the crowd without a backward glance.

I gripped my throbbing hand and stared blankly at the spot where he'd been.

Lee Jinwoo, who'd been fretting beside me, came closer and asked:

"D-Director... are you all right...?"

Lee Jinwoo's voice crackled in and out, distant, like a busted radio.

"Director! Director! You look really pale. Should we go to the infirmary—?"

"...No."

"Th-then... I'll bring you something to drink!"

Leaving me sitting there flustered, he all but fled the spot.

I sank weakly into a nearby chair.

...Something's off.

Why? Why is it different from the original?

The Han Jewoon I knew wasn't that kind of person at all.

He was a wonderful person who cherished children and protected them.

It felt like the one answer key I'd been trusting completely had just been marked wrong across the board.

"Tch. Just wasted my time."

Han Jewoon clicked his tongue quietly and walked over to Seo Jihyeok.

Watching from a distance, Seo Jihyeok came up with a face half-relieved, half-worried, and asked carefully:

"You okay? What on earth were you talking to Chae Junhyeok about?"

"Nothing worth mentioning."

Han Jewoon answered flatly, as though bored.

"Thought I'd finally found the real thing for once — turned out to be just another leech in the end."

"Leech?"

"Wanted me to be a mentor to the orphans they're raising at the institute or whatever."

Han Jewoon scoffed.

"Obvious play. Some run-of-the-mill grifter using 'mentor' as a plausible cover to leech off my name and try to manufacture a headline."

Honestly, it had been pretty disappointing. He'd genuinely had hopes at first.

The way the man had taken his aura head-on had been refreshing, and his changed manner — polite, unlike before — had been intriguing.

There'd definitely been a spark of maybe this one's different.

But that spark had gone stone cold the moment words like orphanage and children started coming out of the man's mouth.

Because you're Han Jewoon. Because you're the country's Number One Hunter. Because you're in a position that ought to help the weak.

A repulsive script he heard tens of times a week.

The first few times, he'd taken those obvious justifications at face value and helped. The results had all come out one of two ways: the person turned out to be a fraud, or he ended up used as a tool for some politician.

He was sick of it now. Sick of every hypocrite using his name as a shield to fill their own pockets.

Han Jewoon shot a glance toward the man slumped on a chair a way off.

Yeah, no. Nothing you can do about the Chae bloodline. Just soured my whole mood.

The whole banquet hall had suddenly become insufferable to him. He turned to Seo Jihyeok and said:

"Jihyeok, today's a bust. Doesn't look like there's any info to get, either — let's head back."

But the knife-edge nagging that always came flying back at him didn't come.

Only then did Han Jewoon notice.

Not just Seo Jihyeok. The entire banquet hall — which just a moment ago had been buzzing to the point of being obnoxious — had gone dead silent.

The classical music that had been playing quietly, the grating laughter of the crowd — every last bit of noise, gone, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Crash—!

The sound of shattering glass split my eardrums and yanked me out of the swamp of my thoughts.

What—?

The moment I lifted my head, the scene in front of me made me stop breathing.

Dozens of people were sprawled on the floor, limp as marionettes with cut strings.

The banquet hall, packed with gaudy noise a moment ago, was silent — as though time had stopped.

And in the middle of that stillness, only one person.

Han Jewoon — hair burning red as flame — stood alone in the middle of the surreal scene.

I sucked in a breath at the unreality of it.

Then my eyes dropped, and... a familiar back came into view.

"...One!"

Startled, I ran to him — but there was no answer.

He must have been bringing me a drink when he went down; he was face-down beside a puddle of spilled champagne and shards of a shattered glass, motionless.

What the hell is happening... why is everyone—?!

Just as my head was filling with confusion, the sound of several pairs of military boots came pounding urgently down the corridor outside the hall.

"Over here! Over here!"

"Seal every exit! Nobody leaves!"

"Han Jewoon will be conscious! Take him alive, right now!"

What — what on earth is this—?!

The sound was getting closer, and just as I was turning my head toward the door—

Whip—!

A powerful grip caught my arm like a bolt of lightning.

There wasn't time to scream, no time to resist.

I was hauled helplessly into the dark and slammed thud! into a cold wall behind me.

And before my vision could catch up, a rough hand clamped over my mouth.

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