Chapter 164

"Parents?"

I shot up out of my chair like a released spring.

The chair clattered across the floor with a racket, but I had no room to care.

Startled by my sharp reaction, Lee Jinwoo hurried to report.

He'd gone back to the old institute grounds to grab what was left of the packing, when he'd happened to spot people loitering around the outside.

"I judged it too risky to let outsiders into the guild just yet, so I rented out a café in District Two, and set up the meeting there."

"Good call."

I offered a short word of praise and snatched the coat off the rack.

In too much of a hurry to bother, I shoved my arms roughly into the sleeves and asked,

"So — whose parents, exactly?"

"They, uh… they said they're the twins' parents."

Hayun and Hajun's parents. Right.

"Send the kids' profile files to my device right now. I want to look them over again on the way."

I fired the order at Lee Jinwoo and stormed out of the office like a squall.

The instant I stepped into the café, I knew.

No need for a DNA test…

Struck with the eerie sense of coming face-to-face with a grown-up version of the twins, I stopped in the doorway before I knew it and stared.

Under my gaze, the couple went stiff, at a loss.

"E-excuse me… is there something on our faces…?"

At the man's careful, cowed question — voice barely audible — I snapped out of it and walked over.

"No. Pleased to meet you. Chae Junhyeok. Feel free to just call me Director."

At the introduction I'd offered first, the man bowed his head over and over, profusely grateful — as if his back might snap.

"Y-yes! Understood, Director!"

I sank deep into the chair across from them and slowly ran my eyes over the pair.

The first thing I noticed was their clothes — noticeably tidier than I'd expected.

According to the profile records, they were supposed to be economically strapped, but their circumstances had apparently improved a great deal in a short window.

That said, unlike the polished exterior, the woman didn't look well at all.

Her face pallid, she coughed on and off, pressing a white handkerchief hard over her mouth.

At length, the man carefully opened his mouth.

"Th-thank you for making time — we know you must be busy."

"Not at all. Where the kids are concerned, of course I'd come."

Outwardly I answered politely, wearing an easygoing smile, but inside I'd gone cold all the way down.

From the moment I'd looked over the twins' profiles and old records again before coming here, my regard for this couple had already hit rock bottom.

"So — you're saying you want the kids back?"

At the cool line straight to the point, the man's face darkened in an instant, like a convict's.

"Yes… I know we have no right to ask, but… we want to take the kids home."

"Ha!"

I couldn't hold back the scoff.

The pair flinched at my open sneer, but their feelings weren't my concern.

Now?

A line from the paperwork I'd checked in the car flashed through my head.

[Payment issued: consideration for voluntary placement by biological parents.]

Fundamentally different from Sea-ah, hauled in after losing her parents in the District Eight incident, or the other kids from orphanages.

The twins were the only case where the parents had come to the institute on their own two feet, taken a payment, and placed their child.

Handing off their own kids with their own hands, then turning up now to reclaim them — no way anything gentle was coming out of my mouth.

"Now? Weren't the kids placed here by the two of you personally? A pretty hefty sum changed hands, from what I saw."

"Th-that's… back then, we…"

The man stammered, couldn't get the sentence out — and then the silver-haired woman, who'd been quiet the whole time, suddenly snapped.

"We had no other choice at the time!"

She struck the table hard and rose to her feet.

"Right, to a great and mighty Director like you, we must look like cold-hearted parents! But there really was no other way. The kids had already awakened; I was ill and couldn't take care of them, and my husband was busy trying to save a business on the verge of going under! We thought that instead of growing up under non-Awakened like us, they'd be better off getting proper training somewhere — for their sake…!"

"If that was the reason, you should have sent them to the Bureau or a guild academy. Both of those cover every bit of food, clothing, and shelter — why did you go out of your way to send them to a research institute?"

At my words, the two of them flinched, thrown, but the woman wasn't giving in — she screamed again.

"Sure, it's called an institute, but it's under the Bureau — of course we thought they'd raise them properly! How were we supposed to know they'd be running horrific experiments on little kids?!"

Mid-cry, the woman rummaged in her handbag and slammed a photograph down onto the table.

Thunk.

The scene in the photo as it slid across the table was familiar.

Hayun, fast asleep in my arms as we left the amusement park not long ago.

"When I saw you — the man I'd only ever seen on the news — carrying my Hayun, do you have any idea what I felt?!"

At the crisp, unmistakable photo, my face went stone-still.

"This photo — where the hell did you get it?"

At the cold drop in my voice, the man stammered,

"Ye-yesterday morning… it was in the mailbox in front of our house. That's how we knew — that our Hajun and Hayun were among the victims of the institute from the hearing. That's why we made up our minds we had to take them back, right away."

"…"

I bit down on my lip.

Whether they'd taken money and handed their children over or not, the fact that the kids had been through hideous experiments in a living hell was undeniable.

What parent, faced with that horrific truth about their own flesh and blood, wouldn't weep blood?

I slowly lowered my head and carefully opened my mouth.

"That… I'm truly sorry."

At the unexpected apology, the woman's rage subsided a beat.

The man wrapped an arm around his wife's still-heaving shoulders and spoke, calm and pleading.

"You don't need to apologize. We saw the hearing — we know how hard you fought for those children. But… we want to take them home now. As you can see, my wife's health, our circumstances, they aren't anything like they used to be. We can raise them without lack for anything, truly."

"…"

"If the payment we took before is the issue, we'll return every won of it. Please — just let us have the kids back."

Even at the desperate appeal, I couldn't give a hasty answer.

Over the cooling teacups, a suffocating silence settled for a long moment.

Barely pressing the tangled thoughts down, I slowly lifted my head.

"For now, the kids' wishes come first."

"What are you talking about?! Their parents are saying they want to take them back — what is there to ask the kids about…!"

At my firm reply the woman's eyes flared, but the man beside her hurriedly held his wife back.

"Of course. The kids' opinions matter most, naturally."

"Once I've talked with them, I'll give you an answer soon. Leave me some contact information."

At my words, the man dug into his inner pocket as if he'd been waiting for the cue and offered a business card over, polite, in both hands.

As I skimmed the card, my brow tightened, slight.

Gaudy gold foil, a slick executive title, and — plastered right beside it — the name of a company so unidentifiable I couldn't guess what it did.

Hmm.

More than a few things about it felt off, but I tucked the card into my jacket pocket without letting it show.

"We'll be waiting for your call, Director. Please."

Bowing over and over to the end, the man led his wife out of the café by the hand.

I watched the couple's retreating backs through the glass door in silence until they disappeared from view completely, and only then — like a puppet with its strings cut — did I sink into the sofa, all the strength drained out of me.

"Haaah…"

I dragged a hand roughly through my hair and let out a dark, heavy sigh.

What the hell was I supposed to do.

Parents who'd taken money and thrown their own kids away in the past, without a hint of regret.

Could I just take that kind of person at their word?

Of course I knew, down to the bone, that they weren't fine, devoted parents.

But… what if the tears and desperation they'd shown today were sincere?

What if they really had been pushed by grinding poverty and illness into swallowing blood and giving them up?

If they'd genuinely put a proper life together and wanted to take the kids in again — what right did I, without a drop of shared blood, have to stand in the way?

And besides…

Wouldn't going with them be better for the kids than staying with me?

Hajun and Hayun were barely five years old.

If they hadn't ended up at the institute, they'd be the age to be growing up in a safe, comfortable home, showered in their parents' love.

Going back to their parents would mean they could have that ordinary, unremarkable life in full.

But if they stayed with me?

Brutal training, of course — and on top of that, being marked by enemies, their lives threatened without end. Obviously.

Just look at Sea-ah — she'd nearly gone into overload because of me.

The relentless spiral of second-guessing swallowed me like quicksand.

I sat with my face buried in both hands for a long stretch, agonizing over it, and then dragged my palms roughly down my dry face and snapped my eyes open.

No point in me sitting here nursing this alone forever.

Since it was a decision that would shape the kids' whole lives, what mattered most was where their own hearts stood.

First, I needed to see Hajun and Hayun.

"…Mom and Dad?"

The twins blinked their big eyes and asked back curiously, as if the words were something they were hearing for the very first time.

I forced down a dry swallow and did my best to keep my voice level, as if it were nothing much.

"That's right. Your parents came here in person… they said they want to take you back home."

Finishing, I hid the way my insides were being scorched dry and watched the kids, tense.

Hajun maybe I couldn't call, but Hayun — Hayun would give some kind of reaction.

Whether she clung to me sobbing, or bounced up and down out of pure joy.

But my prediction was thoroughly off.

What filled the room wasn't an honest emotional outburst but heavy silence.

Mouths firmly closed, the twins just stared into each other's faces, as if trading telepathy.

"…"

"…"

After a long stretch of that silent exchange, they turned their eyes fully up to me and carefully opened their mouths.

"Is Mom… not shick anymore?"

At the tiny question, I swallowed a short internal sigh.

The woman's excuse about having been ill wasn't a complete lie after all, it seemed.

"That's right. She looked a little pale, but well enough to have come here on her own two feet."

At my answer, the kids clamped their mouths shut again.

Sad, or relieved, or angry — no way to place the strange color on their faces.

An air I'd never once seen on these kids before — and my head went uncontrollably tangled.

Did I mess up? Should I have circled around it more?

While my head was going white and I fidgeted, Hayun — who'd been thinking hard — broke the silence in a careful, clear little voice.

"Direektuh. Can we… think about it a bit befowe we anshwer?"

"Huh? Y-yeah, sure. I'm not asking you to decide right now, so take your time."

"'Kay."

Without the usual clinging or wheedling, the kids bowed their heads politely and turned to leave without a backward glance.

Creak. Thump.

The moment the door shut, I raked a hand roughly through my hair and dropped into the chair.

Not sadness, not joy — a strange expression I couldn't place.

What on earth had those kids been thinking.

"Number Three."

I let it out, hollow, to Number Three — who, as always, was standing soundlessly at my back.

"The kids… did they look kind of sad?"

At my listless question, Number Three shook his head silently.

"They didn't look particularly happy either, right?"

At this one, Number Three nodded.

"Haah…"

With a deep sigh, I dropped my face into my hands.

Had I taken this too lightly?

The gnawing thought that a clumsy delivery might have pressed down on the kids' hearts even more washed over me — an awful, self-lacerating guilt.

Out of the office, the twins padded off toward their room, the Sunshine Room.

Fingers fidgeting with the small hand clasped in his, Hajun stopped short.

"Noona…"

Hajun looked up at his sister with big eyes full of confusion.

"Why didn'tsh you tell him the twuth?"

"…"

"That there's no way Mom and Dad would come looking for us."