RB - 61

Chapter 61: The Monster’s Counterattack Arrives with a Reporter

Seo-yeon spoke with a sympathetic expression.

“I understand completely. I’m certain there’s something twisted about Professor Sung Ho-yeon’s methods. But so far, it’s just a strong suspicion—I can’t find any concrete evidence… It’s tormenting. That’s why I asked to meet the two of you.”

Then, catching herself, she added,

“Please treat me the same way you did Mi-yeon.”

When Mi-yeon’s husband pressed the bell, the staff slid open the door swiftly, as if they had been waiting nearby, and took their order.

“Take a look at this photo. This is my daughter—she’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Seo-yeon gazed at the photo Mi-yeon handed her and smiled brightly. The child had Mi-yeon’s almond-shaped eyes, slightly drooping at the outer corners, and her father’s angular jaw—a cute face that blended both parents’ features.

“Yes, she’s beautiful. She looks healthy too.”

Mi-yeon’s cheeks flushed at Seo-yeon’s words, as though being told her daughter was healthy was the greatest compliment. A year ago, relatives had urged them to institutionalize the girl in a mental hospital.

“She’s gotten much healthier. She even goes to school now. We thought she’d be homeschooled for life… It’s a miracle.”

As Mi-yeon’s voice trembled with emotion, the door slid open again, and the first course of the meal arrived.

While Mi-yeon savored her crab soup, her husband began to speak. His taciturn demeanor made him seem like an ancient, hollow tree.

“Sung Ho-yeon… I don’t even want to call him a professor. That man is a despicable con artist, a greedy merchant who only cares about money.”

Mi-yeon’s hand holding her spoon trembled at her husband’s words, but he gently patted her back twice before continuing.

“Our daughter’s innate temperament was quite sensitive, so we started treatment with Professor Sung when she was five. It took us half a year just to get an appointment—he was so famous.”

Now that he had begun speaking, Mi-yeon’s husband paused eating and calmly explained further.

“At first, we were satisfied. After starting treatment, our daughter ate well and slept soundly. We thought, ‘Ah, this expensive therapy is worth every penny.’ Then one day, Professor Sung gave our daughter a puppy as a gift.”

Mi-yeon interjected, taking over the story.

“My daughter loved that puppy so much. We thought having a pet would help her treatment, so we were happy about it too. But… the puppy didn’t live for even a week. After that, Professor Sung gave her a kitten.”

Seo-yeon nodded quickly, sensing where this was going. Seeing understanding in Seo-yeon’s eyes, Mi-yeon continued more emphatically.

“This time, we were worried that if the pet died again, our daughter would be devastated… So from the start, we took the kitten to an animal hospital. We vaccinated it and tried to keep it healthy.”

Seo-yeon picked up where Mi-yeon left off.

“Mi-yeon, did the animal hospital tell you? That the kitten didn’t have much time left?”

Mi-yeon gasped dramatically and clapped her hands.

“How did you know? Yes, they said the kitten had a heart condition and couldn’t be treated. And strangely enough, the puppy that died earlier had also been diagnosed with a genetic disease when we took it to the vet.”

Seo-yeon recalled Jin-hyuk’s story and spoke in a strained voice.

“It doesn’t seem like a coincidence. My acquaintance who received treatment from Professor Sung also kept receiving young animals as gifts—and they all died. And then they were falsely accused of being violent psychopaths who intentionally killed the animals.”

As soon as Seo-yeon finished speaking, Mi-yeon slammed her utensils onto the table. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she raised her voice.

“That’s right! Professor Sung said the same thing about my daughter—that she showed psychopathic tendencies and needed deeper treatment. We stopped trusting him… so we attached a recorder to her dress to hear what he said during hypnosis sessions.”

Seo-yeon swallowed hard and asked in a trembling voice,

“What was recorded?”

“We couldn’t listen to it. The recorder we’d hidden deep inside her skirt disappeared without a trace.”

“Surely Professor Sung didn’t… lift her skirt?”

Unable to finish her sentence, Seo-yeon bowed her head guiltily as Mi-yeon’s faint sobs filled the room. Professor Sung was even more vile than she had imagined.

Mi-yeon’s husband informed them of a group of victims like themselves. Some members had photos or audio recordings that could expose Professor Sung’s corruption. He hinted at this while issuing a warning.

“But there’s a condition. Fighting someone like Professor Sung is like David versus Goliath. We’re not interested in hitting a rock with an egg, especially since children are involved. So create a solid plan that ensures victory. If you do, we’ll share all the evidence we have and testify willingly.”

Seo-yeon nodded with a faint smile. Though she hadn’t yet revealed that the victims included the Shin brothers of Taesung Group, she knew these victims would surely step forward to help once they learned. No matter how powerful Professor Sung might be, he couldn’t stand against the heirs of Taesung Group. Seo-yeon offered Mi-yeon a firm word of comfort.

“Mi-yeon, I won’t disappoint you. I’ll contact you soon—with good news that will satisfy you.”

Seo-yeon’s steps felt heavy as she turned to leave. Mi-yeon’s sobbing lingered in her mind like a ghostly afterimage. Gradually, the blurry image morphed into Jin-hyuk’s features.

“Is this the weight of responsibility? I really am turning into some kind of saint.”

Fiddling with the wing-shaped pendant around her neck, Seo-yeon thought of Jin-hyuk. Returning to work after a week’s sick leave, she discovered that Jin-hyuk had already resigned—and he still hadn’t contacted her.

With a playful smile, Seo-yeon muttered to herself.

“Still, disappearing without a word and quitting? Even for a chaebol heir, isn’t that too self-serving? When I see him, I’ll give him a piece of my mind. Who does he think he is, pulling such stunts? What a young tyrant!”

Just then, a series of camera shutter clicks—snap, snap, snap—rang out from somewhere nearby. Startled, Seo-yeon looked around but saw no one suspicious. Perhaps her nerves were still frayed from being monitored at Taesung Group’s VIP ward. She smoothed down her hair.

---

Ding-dong, ding-dong, the doorbell rang.

Seo-yeon checked the time. 10 p.m.—who could it be at this hour? Jung-hyuk was still trapped in the hospital.

Ding-dong, the doorbell rang again. Seo-yeon cautiously approached the door. Ding-dong, another ring sent a chill through her heart. Was it Kim, the finance team manager, again? Her head throbbed painfully.

Summoning her courage, she checked the intercom screen—oh no, it was Kim Soo-gwang, the reporter she had bad blood with. He clearly intended to keep ringing until she opened the door.

Once more, ding-dong, ding-dong, the doorbell rang insistently. Fearing he’d wake the neighbors, Seo-yeon reluctantly opened the door.

“Why are you here? How did you find my address?”

“This is a reporter’s visit for investigative purposes. In the name of the public’s right to know.”

Kim pushed his foot brazenly into the slightly open door, craning his neck to peer inside Seo-yeon’s apartment.

Seo-yeon scanned the reporter from head to toe, exasperated. Clearly, he was recording everything with a body cam and audio recorder. She knew the rational response to such behavior was simple:

Don’t feed the attention-seeker.

But anger had already consumed her patience. Rationality flew out the window as she snapped loudly.

“Are you really a journalist? Digging into private lives and exposing them everywhere? Aren’t you ashamed?”

Kim countered with an even louder voice, pressing her.

“The chaebol brothers of Taesung aren’t ordinary people, Ms. Han. If you want a big payout, you should expect this level of media exposure. Did you think you’d get it for free?”

Seo-yeon barely swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Kim had deliberately referred to the “brothers” of Taesung. Just how much did he know? Anxiety gripped her tightly. She forced out her words.

“If you come here one more time, I’ll report you to the police. I know how reporters like you operate. Leave. Now.”

The reporter protested repeatedly, invoking the “public’s right to know,” but Seo-yeon firmly pushed him out into the hallway and slammed the door shut.

Click, click. She double-locked the door, but her racing heart felt like it might burst out of her chest. For a long while, she paced the living room in a daze before grabbing a beer from the fridge.

The cold temperature of the beer can did little to calm her chaotic thoughts.

“…The balance has already been shattered. Who could it be? Who tipped off this reporter?”

Pop. As she cracked open the beer, her phone buzzed violently. The caller ID read Ji-min. Ji-min had never called this late before. Unease washed over Seo-yeon.