RB - 69

Chapter 69: The Calm Before the Storm, Time to Face Karma

Meanwhile, in the VIP ward of Taesung Hospital, the calm before the storm was beginning. A sinister atmosphere filled every corner of the hospital corridors, and an ominous silence hung heavily in the air.

“Lord, I am as good as dead. Please have mercy on me.”

The head nurse sighed deeply, as if the earth beneath her would collapse. After several sleepless nights searching for Shin Joon-hyuk, she had found no trace of him—not even a shadow. The moment had come when she had to inform Professor Sung that Shin Joon-hyuk had disappeared without a trace, and that somehow, all the CCTV footage was mysteriously “damaged.”

The head nurse gnawed on her nails nervously. She began pacing back and forth, her anxiety growing with each passing second, until finally, she started reciting the Lord’s Prayer under her breath.

“Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done...”

It was shameful for a nurse to worry about her own safety while a patient was missing. But for the head nurse, any sense of professional conscience had long since been reduced to nothing more than a scrap of paper. She had three sons whose tuition fees were draining her financially, and her husband had been unemployed for some time. It wasn’t just her—most of the medical staff in the VIP ward were economically vulnerable.

The most serious issue, however, was that this wouldn’t end with a mere resignation letter. If it came out that they had administered excessive sedatives to a patient as though they were vitamins, or secretly restrained his limbs like an animal, this would lead straight to prison sentences.

Knock, knock. As the head nurse knocked on Professor Sung’s office door, she swallowed hard. Her face was etched with worry so blatant it was impossible to miss. Deep down, she truly feared Professor Sung.

“Um… Professor, Shin Joon-hyuk has disappeared. We’ve looked everywhere, but… we still haven’t found any trace of him.”

Professor Sung erupted into a thunderous roar. Before she even realized what happened, the head nurse was sprawled on the floor, having been slapped across the face. Only after a few seconds did she realize, as if waking from a dream, that she’d been struck.

“Get everyone together! All of them, now!”

Professor Sung Ho-yeon grabbed the medical staff like one would grab rats. File folders and pens flew through the air.

“You worthless maggots! This isn’t the first time, is it? Damn it. That’s why I can’t leave my post for even a moment. Bring me all the CCTV footage!”

The head nurse’s trembling voice continued.

“Uh… well… we checked the CCTV right away, but everything was erased. We’ve already sent it off for data recovery, so if you could just wait a little longer… Ahhh!”

Before she could finish her sentence, the nurse screamed and collapsed onto the floor. Professor Sung had pulled out a pocketknife from his desk drawer.

“Professor Sung, please spare me! We made a mistake. We’ll find Shin Joon-hyuk, I swear! Ughhh…”

Who could have known that Sung Ho-yeon, a renowned expert in child psychology, would resort to threatening nurses with a pocketknife when pushed to the edge?

The other nurses nearby held their breaths, trembling uncontrollably. Though Professor Sung had never actually stabbed anyone with the knife, he enjoyed intimidating people this way—it revealed his characteristic arrogance.

“Do you idiots know why you’re paid three or four times more than the nurses in other wards? Do you think it’s because you’re so talented? Answer me, Head Nurse!”

“Ah… No, of course not. We’re all deeply grateful for your generosity, Professor Sung.”

Sung felt as if the blood in his veins was boiling dry. The panic and despair he felt were shared by everyone in the room.

What if Shin Joon-hyuk was spotted by someone outside? It wouldn’t just be Chairman Shin Tae-myung breathing down their necks anymore. The biggest problem was that Shin Joon-hyuk’s condition wasn’t nearly as violent as they had been pretending it was.

Professor Sung’s lips twisted into a cruel sneer.

“I’m giving you two days—find Shin Joon-hyuk immediately. He couldn’t have gone far, given the amount of drugs we pumped into him. Start searching the hospital again. He might be hiding somewhere like a cockroach in a corner. Do you understand?”

The nurses nodded stiffly, their expressions rigid like soldiers. They poured out of Professor Sung’s office like a receding tide, but no one dared to speak. The pressure to find Shin Joon-hyuk weighed heavily on their chests. Money was no longer the issue—it hadn’t been for a long time. They were all accomplices now, and if Shin Joon-hyuk’s true identity was exposed, none of them would escape legal punishment.

One male nurse, who had become an informant for Seo Yeon, quietly typed out a text message:

—Professor Sung is losing control. The CCTV situation has been handled smoothly. I’ll keep you updated on further developments. Please, save my life.

Left alone, Professor Sung sank into deep thought.

Shin Joon-hyuk had vanished. He had broken free from the leather straps binding his limbs, and the CCTV files had disappeared as if mocking them. This was no coincidence. There was no way Shin Joon-hyuk, with the cognitive abilities of a toddler, could have done this alone.

Professor Sung sensed a dark shadow closing in on him. Who could it be? If it were Chairman Shin Tae-myung, he would have stormed in directly instead of using such a roundabout method. Besides, Park Yeo-wan would have tipped him off beforehand, so this wasn’t the chairman’s doing.

Then who? Could it be Han Seo-yeon, stirring up trouble recklessly? But Han Seo-yeon had been rendered powerless by Park Yeo-wan’s schemes, branded as “H, the National Homewrecker.” Her mental state had likely shattered under the relentless media witch hunt.

Professor Sung cursed loudly, slamming his fists on the desk repeatedly. Whoever it was, once he caught them, he vowed to destroy their mind beyond repair.

---

Meanwhile, at Taesung Group headquarters, Jung Hyuk burst into the building. Without hesitation, he headed straight for his father, Chairman Shin Tae-myung’s office.

Jung Hyuk slammed a stack of documents onto his father’s desk. Normally, Chairman Shin would have exploded in rage, but this time was different. Earlier that morning, he had already received a report from his secretary about the sordid relationship between Park Yeo-wan and Professor Sung.

“What do you want?” 

Chairman Shin stared at his son as if observing the flow of a distant river.

A bitter smile crept across Jung Hyuk’s lips. He had dropped a hint to catch the traitor, and it seemed his father had uncovered Park Yeo-wan’s true nature.

A sharp, mocking tone escaped Jung Hyuk’s lips. He had no intention of showing mercy to the old, weakened tiger. Crushing its neck was the kind of “family education” he had received in this household.

“There’s something I’ve never understood. Why do you love the darkness so much? Why do you keep blackout curtains in your study and blinds in your office, always sinking deeper into the abyss? But now I finally understand.”

Jung Hyuk shot a look of contempt at his father, who remained motionless.

“You’re afraid of the light, aren’t you? Your sins are too great to bear it.”

Like a boulder crashing into a quiet river, Jung Hyuk’s words sent ripples through the room. His lips twisted bitterly. Of course, it made perfect sense. After all, his father was only human.

Chairman Shin slowly raised his head, meeting his son’s disdainful gaze head-on. The monstrous son he had raised now felt as heavy as Mount Tai pressing down on him.

“I asked you what you wanted to say.”

“Prepare for the Taesung Hospital charity gala this Saturday. The rest will be handled by us—the three brothers.”

Chairman Shin froze at Jung Hyuk’s deliberate emphasis on the phrase “three brothers.” Jung Hyuk openly smirked at his father’s reaction before tossing a USB drive onto the table. Reflexively, Chairman Shin picked it up.

“You’re planning to expose everything openly? Ridiculous. Internal matters should be handled discreetly. What are you thinking, trying to blow this out of proportion? Is this how I raised my successor?”

“If you watch the video on that USB, you might change your mind—if you’re still human with red blood flowing beneath your skin.”

With a soft click, Jung Hyuk closed the door behind him, leaving an eerie silence in the study. For a long while, Chairman Shin sat frozen, staring blankly. Finally, he plugged the USB into his laptop and clicked play. Fumbling for his glasses, he squinted at the screen.

“Who is this?”

On the video, a young boy sat in a small room reading a comic book. At first glance, it appeared to be Jung Hyuk, but then Chairman Shin nearly fell out of his chair. It wasn’t Jung Hyuk—it was Shin Joon-hyuk, the son he had kept hidden.

Gone was the wild, beast-like behavior Shin Joon-hyuk had exhibited during their rare meetings over the years. On the screen, he appeared calm and showed signs of cognitive development. He smiled brightly, radiating cheerfulness. A pained murmur escaped Chairman Shin’s lips.

“This can’t be… This isn’t Joon-hyuk.”

Though he said the words, there was no mistaking the face on the screen. It was undoubtedly his eldest son, Shin Joon-hyuk, whom he had secretly raised.

Trembling, Chairman Shin picked up the scattered documents Jung Hyuk had left behind. They contained a counselor’s assessment and blood test results for Shin Joon-hyuk. With great effort, he steadied his shaking eyes and began reading.

A faint twitch quivered at the corners of Chairman Shin’s eyes, where age spots were beginning to form.