* * *

A Few Days Later

After being hospitalized for stress-induced shock, Jungin was discharged following a few additional days of rest, as urged by Beomhyeon and his brothers.

Though they wanted him to undergo a thorough medical examination after learning his memories had returned, Jungin firmly refused, and they reluctantly respected his decision.

Back at the penthouse in Sagang-dong, Jungin looked at his brothers gathered in one place.

The idea of telling them the truth filled him with fear.

Sitting beside him, Beomhyeon squeezed his hand tightly, encouraging him.

“I don’t know what you’ll think of me,” Jungin began, his voice wavering, “but I’m not crazy.”

“Jungin…”

“Just… please, listen to me first.”

Jungin glanced at Jungwoo, who had called his name urgently.

Slowly, he closed his eyes and exhaled before continuing.

“Alright. Let’s hear what Jungin has to say.”

“…Okay.”

Jungjin, noticing Jungin’s nervous trembling, released a calming pheromone.

Though not imprinted with Jungin as an alpha, familial pheromones had a sedative effect similar to a tranquilizer.

“…Thank you, hyung.”

“Of course.”

Feeling his body relax, Jungin unclenched his tightly bitten lips and began to speak.

He recounted everything: the incident at the orphanage, what had happened between him and Choi Jungin, and everything that followed after his abduction by Choi Jungin’s grandmother.

Every detail of his experiences poured out.

Hearing it all, the expressions of the four brothers darkened.

The heavy atmosphere weighed on them as Jungseo murmured in disbelief.

Sensing the strength of Beomhyeon’s grip on his hand, Jungin spoke again:

“It’s okay if you don’t believe me… I wouldn’t blame you. If I were you, I wouldn’t believe me either. But… I just wanted to tell you. I’ve been through this… and now that I remember everything, it’s so hard.”

Jungjin closed his eyes, recalling Jungin’s desperate cries when he hadn’t answered his calls, and the CCTV footage from yesterday that Secretary Kang had shown him.

It was difficult to believe Jungin’s words given the impossibility of the situation, but every part of it had actually happened.

Jungseo stood up abruptly, his face shadowed with unspoken thoughts.

Jungin had prepared himself for at least one of them not to believe him.

Still, his heart ached at Jungseo’s reaction.

“So… you’re saying that all this time, your story was true? And we… we didn’t believe you? Damn it…”

Jungseo clenched his fists and struck his own face.

Startled, Jungin jumped to his feet, but Jungseo didn’t stop.

“Hyung, stop! Please, Jungseo-hyung!”

With the sickening thuds of fists landing and the splatter of blood, Jungseo vented his sorrow in a different way than Jungjin.

Teeth clenched, he berated himself harshly.

“Hyung, please stop! You’re hurting yourself…!”

Jungin grabbed Jungseo’s arms, shaking his head.

He had blamed his brothers, but he knew it wasn’t their fault.

He had been too overwhelmed and had unfairly projected his pain onto them.

“I was the one who dragged you to the hospital when you didn’t want to go. I held you down when you fought against getting injections. You were in so much pain you wanted to die, and I just thought you were mentally ill…”

“No, hyung. Please stop. It wasn’t your fault. If anything, you were the one who kept me from making the worst choices. That’s why I’m still here…”

Jungin’s heart ached as he watched his brothers suffer more than he ever had.

Why had he thought he was the only one in pain?

They had been enduring their own struggles all along.

Holding Jungseo’s bloodied hands, Jungin gave a faint smile.

Though he felt sorrow, he was grateful to know the sincerity of his brothers’ feelings.

“Thank you. I’ve been able to survive because of you. Even now, I know how hard you’ve worked to protect me.”

Jungseo’s face twisted with emotion.

Hugging Jungin tightly, he finally broke down in tears, something he had never done before.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry I didn’t realize sooner, little brother.”

“It’s okay… Thank you for believing me.”

Barely managing to calm his emotions, Jungin approached Jungwoo, who stood at a distance, watching him helplessly.

Jungwoo’s face was clouded with guilt so heavy that he couldn’t even bring himself to apologize.

Unlike Jungjin, who had cried, or Jungseo, who had lashed out at himself, Jungwoo stood rooted in place, as if believing he had no choice but to endure the pain silently.

“If even you fall apart, what are we supposed to do?”

Jungwoo had always been the one to keep everyone grounded.

Seeing him this shaken was a first.

Jungin forced a faint smile and opened his arms, stepping closer to his brother.

“Hyung…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jungin…”

Feeling Jungwoo’s trembling arms wrap around him and his warm breath on his shoulder, Jungin held him tightly, patting his back as his second-oldest brother quivered in his embrace.

Confessing the truth hadn’t been as difficult as he thought.

He’d avoided saying anything, fearing it would cause more pain, but now he felt glad he’d spoken honestly.

Sometimes, speaking out could be a way to heal wounds—something Jungin had only just realized.

---

Elsewhere:

“We need to ensure that Choi Jungin and anyone connected to him are completely cut off from him for now.”

“I agree. What about Kim Chunja?”

“For now, leave her be. It’s better to keep her where we can monitor her.”

Given how Choi Jungin visited daily under the guise of caregiving, it seemed unlikely she’d try to flee anytime soon.

Besides, using money to blackmail Jungin—how dare she.

Watching Jungjin silently suppress his cold fury, Jungwoo glanced at Beomhyeon before sighing and speaking up.

Beomhyeon was well aware of their fractured family dynamic, and having him on their side was a definite advantage when it came to protecting Jungin.

“We can’t rule out the possibility that Mother was involved in this. The last person who saw Jungin before he was taken that night… was her.”

“You’re right. But gathering evidence from ten years ago won’t be easy. Especially when it comes to Kim Chunja.”

Her position as a shaman made her world insular and hard to penetrate.

On top of that, she had long since lost her spiritual powers and was no longer of sound mind.

“Even so, she must face justice. Stealing Jungin’s life—my brother’s life—is a crime I’ll never forgive.”

“Still… we need to think about how this could even happen, and how to prevent it from happening again.”

The truth was, the situation was frustratingly opaque.

It wasn’t something that could be explained scientifically, and there was a real danger Jungin could be hurt again without them realizing it.

But hiding him indefinitely wasn’t an option either.

“Goddammit… I can’t just kill all these bastards, can I?”

At that moment, Beomhyeon recalled the old woman he’d encountered in a narrow alleyway.

Though their meeting had been brief, her presence had been striking.

If Kim Chunja, Jungin’s paternal grandmother, had enabled this through her shamanic abilities, perhaps that woman could offer some help as well.

Breaking the heavy silence, Beomhyeon spoke up.

“Actually, on the day Jungin had his accident while working, I ran into an old woman in an alley. She told me where Jungin was without me even asking.”

At the time, Jungin had been in bad shape, so he hadn’t thought much of it.

But looking back, it was strange that Beomhyeon had found him there so easily.

“I’m not certain, but others seemed to call her ‘Bosalnim.’ If this situation is as supernatural as it seems, perhaps she could help us.”

Hearing this, Jungin’s eyes widened.

“Are you talking about an older woman wearing a hanbok?”

When Beomhyeon nodded, Jungin recalled what the woman had said to him and spoke up.

“She told me… that if I ever had questions, I could come find her.”

“Beomhyeon, do you remember where this was?” Jungjin asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s head there now. Jungin, you stay here.”

“No, I’m coming too…!”

Jungin stood up, ready to follow, but Jungjin firmly shook his head, making him sit back down on the sofa.

“This house is the safest place for you. As frustrating as it is, it’s best for you to stay here for now.”

“Okay… I understand.”

At this point, they couldn’t trust anyone.

* * *