* * *

While waiting for the report, Kang Dohee struggled to focus on work, frequently checking the time.

Two hours later, Kim Doohyeop returned with a comprehensive file on Na Taejoon.

For a professional like him, finding personal information about an omega was nothing.

After all, he could locate debtors hiding; tracking a university student was a breeze.

Kim Doohyeop handed over the report with a smug expression. “Your taste is impeccable, boss.”

Hearing that, Kang Dohee thought of the pretty face he’d seen saving a bullied kid on the rooftop earlier.

He felt an inexplicable sense of pride.

The report described an omega living a hard life under his grandmother’s care.

Despite his tough circumstances, Na Taejoon exuded a noble charm, reminding Kang Dohee not to judge a book by its cover.

He lived in a cramped semi-basement apartment in a notoriously poor neighborhood.

Kang Dohee felt a warmth in his chest as he imagined someone so bright and kind growing up in such difficult conditions.

He was flipping to the next page when Kim Doohyeop’s comment caught him off guard.

“People say a mole on the nose is a beauty mark, don’t they? Haha.”

“What?”

Not understanding, Kang Dohee asked again. Kim Doohyeop hastily clarified, waving his hands.

“Don’t misunderstand, boss. I have no personal interest. It’s the future spouse, after all.”

“No, I mean, what’s this about a mole on the nose? The only mark on his face is the teardrop mole under his eye.”

Kang Dohee vividly recalled the small dot under his eye—how alluring it would look if flushed red from tears.

Speaking of which, Yeo Woohee also had a mole under his eye…

“Huh? No, it’s definitely on the nose. Look here.”

Flipping through the report, Kang Dohee froze.

The omega in the surveillance photos was a complete stranger.

Today’s Na Taejoon wasn’t the same person he’d seen.

‘Was I bewitched by a ghost?’

Had he drunk too much and hallucinated?

Confused, Kang Dohee suddenly decided.

“Get the car ready. We’re going to Yeo Woohee’s columbarium.”

Kim Doohyeop’s shoulders slumped.

He thought Kang Dohee had moved on, finally showing interest in a peer omega.

But now he was talking about visiting a columbarium.

Still, it was the anniversary of the boy’s passing, so Kim Doohyeop could only comply.

“I’ll prepare the car. Please meet me in the parking lot.”

A columbarium in Seongnam.

Though it was already past operating hours, two men in suits summoned the caretaker to open the door.

Inside, Kang Dohee stood in front of a photo of a cheerful child beaming with a bright smile.

“He had a mole under his right eye too.”

Who was the man he met today?

Why was he wearing a name tag that read Na Taejoon, and why did he resemble Yeo Woohee?

Why was he living under someone else’s identity?

Despite the only shared trait being the teardrop-shaped mole beneath their eyes, Kang Dohee found himself clinging to the hope that they might be the same person.

His hands trembled uncontrollably with excitement.

Not once had he thought to open the urn.

He had simply assumed Yeo Woohee was dead because his spot was here.

But now, he opened it.

“Hah. Hah. Hah.”

He couldn’t believe it.

Tears welled up, fueled by the injustice of all the years he spent grieving for the boy.

He looked up at the ceiling, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

“He’s not dead.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Kim Doohyeop confirmed that the urn was empty.

“Could my father have lied to me?”

“That’s impossible, sir! The boss wouldn’t do something like that.”

“You’re right. My father would never lie to me. Then someone must have fabricated Yeo Woohee’s death at the time. He came to the orphanage, stayed for a while, and then someone took him away. Why?”

Kang Dohee recalled the man in the black suit who had arrived in an expensive foreign car.

Although there was no conclusive evidence linking Yeo Woohee to the fake Na Taejoon, Kang Dohee decided to investigate under the assumption that they were the same person.

“Let’s look into Yeo Woohee again. Maybe we missed something back then.”

“Understood.”

“First, get me the full records of everyone in the underground university’s fashion design department.”

“Got it.”

Kang Dohee carefully returned the empty urn to its place and took Yeo Woohee’s childhood photo from its frame.

“What on earth happened to you, Woohee?”

Back then, he hadn’t been able to protect Yeo Woohee.

But now, it was different. He had the power.

“I’ll protect you. No matter what.”

Kang Dohee spoke with conviction.

---

The team of three experts in digging up personal records—Lee Yeondu, Min Seolwoo, and Kim Doohyeop—gathered.

Lee Yeondu, who had hacked into the underground university’s systems, raised her hand.

“I’m sending over the transfer records for the fashion design department.”

Kang Dohee clicked through the data Lee Yeondu sent him.

He read the names of the students listed, one by one.

Then, in the third-year section of the fashion design department, he found the name.

“Yeo Woohee.”

Relief washed over him.

Yeo Woohee was really alive.

Kang Dohee ran a hand over his face, letting out a long sigh.

He still didn’t understand why Yeo Woohee had been wearing Na Taejoon’s name tag, but at least one thing was clear: he wasn’t living by stealing someone else’s identity.

“Yeo Woohee. I’ve found you again.”

Min Seolwoo sent additional information to Kang Dohee’s computer.

Seeing it, Kang Dohee frowned in disbelief.

On Cheongha University’s website, the promotional model was none other than Yeo Woohee.

Why had someone attending such a prestigious university transferred to a place as dismal as the underground university?

“Here’s more on Yeo Woohee.”

This time, an old newspaper article appeared on Kang Dohee’s screen.

It was from three years ago, covering a party commemorating the founding of a five-star hotel.

That day also marked the appointment of Yeo Jinwoo, the eldest son of OL Group Chairman Yeo, as an executive director.

[Children of the Owner Family at the OL Group Anniversary Celebration—Dependable Alpha Heirs]

In the accompanying photo, Yeo Jinwoo shielded Yeo Woohee behind him, glaring fiercely at the camera.

Only Yeo Woohee’s eyes peeked out from behind his brother, but someone had painstakingly identified him.

Because they had assumed Yeo Woohee was dead, they hadn’t thought to search for traces of him, despite how easily they could have found them.

“OL Group? Why would a child from such a prominent family end up in an orphanage?”

What on earth had happened in that household 14 years ago?

Kang Dohee stared at Yeo Jinwoo’s fierce expression in the article photo, lost in thought.

“Look into Executive Director Yeo Jinwoo. Let’s see if there’s anything to uncover. And plant someone in Chairman Yeo’s household. Find a disgruntled employee or someone connected to their domestic staff.”

“Understood.”

Kim Doohyeop promptly rose to carry out the order.

His swift compliance had earned him quick promotions.

Meanwhile, Lee Yeondu, who was researching Yeo Woohee’s death records from 14 years ago, glanced at Kang Dohee.

The electronically archived documents looked suspicious.

“What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Um… don’t you think this handwriting looks like a child’s?”

The death certificate for Yeo Woohee appeared on the screen.

The handwriting was clumsy, resembling that of an elderly person unfamiliar with writing or a young child.

“It doesn’t look like Chairman Yeo or his wife wrote it.”

“Yeondu, you think it’s Jinwoo’s doing too, don’t you?”

“Yes. This whole thing feels like a mystery case we’re trying to solve.”

* * *