MHD - 77

Chapter 77: Liberation

It was a strange sense of liberation.

Ever since her panic attacks began three years ago, Hee-soo had felt as though a stone were lodged in her chest, leaving her perpetually suffocated.

It was unfair that the man who received admiration from the world was, in truth, undeserving of it—and no one knew. She lacked the power to expose his depravity, and he was already dead.

She had resigned herself to carrying this unresolved injustice to her grave.

“Ah...”

Her eyes burned, and when she touched her fingertips to them, they came away wet with tears.

Her throat tightened, and if she stayed still, she feared she would burst into uncontrollable sobs. Mechanically, Hee-soo moved her spoon, forcing mouthfuls of rice into her mouth.

Chewing hurriedly at first, she suddenly slowed down.

There was flavor.

It was astonishing that rice could taste good. She had grown so accustomed to food losing its appeal after just a few bites that this discovery felt surreal.

Curious, she kept eating, moving her chopsticks steadily until, somehow, she had emptied an entire bowl of rice.

“Oh my, look at you eating so well today! You’re looking radiant!”

The owner patted Hee-soo on the back. Hee-soo even finished the scorched rice and tea the owner offered before stepping out of the restaurant.

With a full stomach, Hee-soo walked slowly along the beach.

This overwhelming sense of satiety felt like a first in her life. It had been the most delicious meal she’d ever eaten—more satisfying than any lavish feast. Strange, indeed.

The image of Jae-hyuk, previously etched in her mind only with bloodshot eyes, now transformed into the calm face she had seen during the press conference.

Though the content of the conference was grave, Jae-hyuk’s expression had seemed strangely serene.

That tranquil gaze had stared straight ahead—and directly at her.

I’ll ensure you’re no longer alone in your suffering. Though the person who tormented you is dead, I’ll take responsibility until your heart finds peace.

Hee-soo read those unspoken words in Jae-hyuk’s eyes.

How could she describe the feeling?

It was akin to that moment at the premiere of Paradise Lost, when the sobs of countless audience members crying on her behalf had felt like a warm embrace.

Yes, it was the feeling of being quietly comforted.

As Hee-soo walked along the coast, she chuckled softly—”Haha”—before breaking into loud laughter. “Hahaha,” she laughed like a madwoman, then dissolved into sobs, her cries echoing loudly.

She wandered aimlessly, laughing and crying in turns.

It was a paradoxical mix of emptiness and relief. At some point, she stopped walking.

Hee-soo gazed at the vast blue sea before her, her eyes resting on the horizon where sky met water. She murmured:

“...It’s all over.”

Her gaze shifted from the horizon to a bird soaring above the waves. Fresh tears spilled over the dried tracks on her cheeks. Crying, she smiled.

Her heart felt as light as a bird taking flight.

---

“Who do we have here?”

Jae-min couldn’t hide his astonishment as he saw the man entering his studio.

It was none other than Lee Jae-hyuk, the figure who had dominated headlines nationwide with his recent emergency press conference, now standing unexpectedly before him.

To be honest, Jae-min hadn’t paid much attention to Jae-hyuk’s press conference. His focus had been entirely on the life-or-death struggle of his unfinished work, and he still hadn’t secured a new production company.

Following the press conference, Gangrim Group had made a series of shocking announcements.

They declared plans to liquidate all loss-making subsidiaries, followed by announcements about large-scale restructuring, severance packages, and future employee support measures.

Perhaps they’re clearing house to make way for new ventures? Could entertainment be one of them?

Jae-min’s curiosity was piqued.

“You contacted me out of the blue—I must admit, I’m surprised. May I ask what brings you here...?”

Without hiding his intentions, Jae-min immediately inquired about Jae-hyuk’s purpose. Was he here to offer investment? A faint hope flickered within him.

“Let’s start with this.”

Jae-hyuk handed Jae-min a thick envelope.

“What’s this?”

Jae-min took the envelope, its weight noticeable even before opening it.

“Go ahead and take a look.”

Following Jae-hyuk’s suggestion, Jae-min opened the envelope and pulled out its contents.

Inside were old, worn documents and a photograph of a young girl.

「Seo Hee-soo — Parents deceased. Adopted by paternal uncle at age 1.」

After reading the first line, Jae-min couldn’t understand why Jae-hyuk had given this to him. With a puzzled expression, he looked up.

“…Why are you showing this to me?”

“To summarize, the woman currently known as Seo Hee-soo’s mother isn’t her biological mother. She’s her aunt. Her birth mother’s name is Kang Jae-eun.”

“What… what did you say?”

The documents slipped from Jae-min’s trembling hands. His shock rendered him unable to hold them steady.

“I may have delivered that rather abruptly.”

Jae-hyuk bent down to pick up the scattered papers. After gathering them, he selected one and handed it to Jae-min.

Jae-min, still shaking, could only stare at Jae-hyuk.

“It was difficult to trace Kang Jae-eun’s whereabouts. As it turns out, she wasn’t a Korean national. She was a promising ballerina active in New York. Your younger sister, correct?”

The document Jae-hyuk handed over was a marriage certificate stamped by the U.S. Embassy in Korea.

“Yes… yes, that’s right. So Jae-eun was in Korea…”

“Yes. Records show she passed away in a car accident not long after arriving in Korea.”

“That’s correct. I was in the U.S. at the time, so I didn’t know the details. My family only received the notification of her death.”

“Did you not know she had a child?”

“Our family opposed her marriage, and she left home. We had no idea she was even pregnant…”

Jae-min’s legs gave out, and he collapsed onto a nearby chair. Jae-hyuk placed the remaining documents on the table beside him.

“Even I was surprised to learn that Director Kang Jae-min is Hee-soo’s uncle. At first, I thought you might have known all along and approached her intentionally, but it seems that wasn’t the case.”

“No, I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have… If I’d known, I wouldn’t have left Hee-soo alone when she was struggling.”

Jae-min frantically sifted through the documents on the table.

Among them was a photo of three family members celebrating Hee-soo’s 100th day: baby Hee-soo, Jae-min’s younger sister Kang Jae-eun, and her husband, Seo Min-ho.

“Hee-soo likely doesn’t know her birth mother’s name. It seems her adoptive mother never told her anything about her biological mother. Her adoptive parents hid the truth out of fear that Hee-soo would leave them if she found out—after all, she was their source of income. I’ll leave it to you, Director Kang, to tell her the truth.”

Jae-hyuk picked up the last remaining photo of young Hee-soo from the floor and handed it to Jae-min.

“I’m counting on you.”

Receiving the photo of Hee-soo, Jae-min fell silent for a moment, gazing at the image of the young girl. “I thought she looked familiar,” he muttered to himself repeatedly.

“I apologize for what happened with Choi Han-young.”

“Was that orchestrated by your side?”

Jae-hyuk shook his head firmly in response to Jae-min’s question. “Not at all. We discovered it while investigating Kwon Chaewon. Still, things escalated partly because of our actions, so I wanted to apologize. In return, I’ll fully cover the production costs for your new film. Whatever you need, consider it provided—don’t worry about the budget and focus solely on filming.”

As Jae-hyuk finished speaking with a faint smile, Jae-min finally grasped the full weight of his words.

“Wait. Lee Jae-hyuk, hold on a moment.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“What is your relationship with Hee-soo? Why are you going to such lengths for her?”

“I’m just…”

Jae-hyuk paused, then gave a faint smile.

“I’m a long-time fan of Seo Hee-soo. I deeply hope for her success and support her from the bottom of my heart.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

Jae-hyuk handed Jae-min two business cards after his brief reply.

“One has my contact information, and the other belongs to Oh Byung-wook, my director. He’ll handle everything related to the production budget. Please don’t hesitate to reach out whenever you need.”

“Ah, this is…”

As Jae-hyuk prepared to leave, Jae-min hurriedly rose from his seat, still dazed by the shocking revelations. Realizing he hadn’t properly thanked him, Jae-min followed Jae-hyuk out.

When Jae-hyuk reached the door, he turned back to Jae-min and asked:

“May I make one personal request?”

“Of course. Go ahead.”

Upon Jae-min’s eager agreement, Jae-hyuk continued in a bitter tone:

“Hee-soo endures far too much without complaint. She endured domestic violence from a very young age, and perhaps because of that… When I watched Paradise Lost, I noticed you pushed her quite hard.”

“Ah… That’s right.”

Learning about his niece’s existence and now hearing that she grew up exposed to domestic violence made Jae-min furrow his brow in distress.

Watching Jae-min’s pained expression, Jae-hyuk offered a gentle smile.

“I’m not blaming you. But as someone who knows Hee-soo, it hurt to see her struggle. So…”

Looking at Jae-hyuk’s face as he spoke about Hee-soo, Jae-min instinctively sensed that their relationship was more than just that of an actress and a fan.

It naturally occurred to him that Jae-hyuk and Hee-soo likely shared a special bond.

“So, if there are similar scenes in this project, please be mindful during filming. Would that be alright to ask?”

“Hmm… Understood. I didn’t even realize… Thinking about how Hee-soo willingly let herself get slapped until her cheeks were red makes me feel terrible for her.”

Creak. As Jae-hyuk opened the iron door to leave, Jae-min called out:

“...What about delivering these documents to Hee-soo yourself? You seem far more qualified than I am.”

At Jae-min’s question, Jae-hyuk only turned his head slightly and smiled quietly—a bittersweet, calm expression that seemed to accept everything yet remain distant.

“For now, I’ll support her quietly from behind the scenes. Please don’t mention me to Hee-soo.”

With that, Jae-hyuk nodded, turned away, and exited Jae-min’s studio.