Hero’s Child C22

Chapter 22

“…What if Noah finds out?”

The thought slipped out unbidden. Uichan found himself worrying about things that hadn’t even happened yet—imagining how he might handle it if the babies’ father ever learned about the pregnancy. He lay sprawled lazily across the couch, lost in useless thoughts, and must have dozed off at some point.

Poke.

Something jabbed his cheek.

Uichan groaned and rubbed the spot irritably, shifting his body to avoid the touch. But the persistent finger followed him, poking him again.

“Uichan, are you sleeping?”

That voice snapped him awake.

He blinked rapidly, turning his head in alarm. Someone was crouched in front of him, the night skyline framed behind their figure. Between strands of black hair, pale eyes glimmered—eyes that held a constellation of seven stars like the Big Dipper itself.

“…Hyde?”

He bolted upright. The man propped his chin on one hand, smiling faintly. It was indeed Hyde.

Had it already reached seven o’clock? He’d only just finished his yogurt and lay down around four. Now the sun had dipped low, the sky washed in twilight.

But wait—wasn’t Phantom Thief Kill supposed to pick him up today?

“Wasn’t today Kill’s turn?”

“Ah. He said he was busy tonight, so I came instead.”

Hyde’s smile lingered, smooth and lazy. His face—his skin—was different again today. Each time Uichan saw him, he looked subtly changed, as if wearing another person’s features. Tonight, he looked refined, intellectual even, dressed in ivory knitwear and black slacks instead of his usual black robe-like coat.

“Ah, sorry. I’ll get ready right away.”

As Uichan stood to turn on the lights, a flicker of dread jolted through him. The maternity record book.

His eyes darted to the table—empty. Relief flooded him when he remembered putting it away in the drawer that morning. Still, a cold sweat broke across his forehead. Hyde snapped his fingers, and the room brightened instantly.

He glanced at the clock—6:40 p.m.

Uichan hurried to grab his jacket, but Hyde tapped his chest lightly.

“Forgot something? It feels a little empty here.”

His tone was teasing, the corners of his lips curling.

Uichan hesitated, then awkwardly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him. Hyde chuckled quietly. Among the In the Hell brothers, Hyde was the first one Uichan had ever met—around four years ago. Back then, Turn Hyde was a name synonymous with justice.

The hero La Mute.

With a handsome face and extraordinary skill, La Mute had become famous almost overnight after debuting as a hero. His image filled every media outlet, every poster, every broadcast.

He had one sworn brother, a hero named Yoo Chan.

The two had grown up together, promising to dedicate their lives to serving the nation as heroes. But time breeds envy. When La Mute’s fame soared, jealousy festered in Yoo Chan’s heart.

The more the world praised La Mute, the wider the rift grew between them—until Yoo Chan did something unforgivable.

He hired villains to destroy his brother’s career.

La Mute was ambushed by a gang of villains. They flayed his face alive and doused his torn flesh with gasoline, burning him beyond recognition.

He was held captive for seven days in an abandoned building, tortured until he was nothing but a blood-soaked husk. When he was finally freed, half-dead, the world reeled at the news.

Public outrage was immense. Reporters wept on air. Yoo Chan pretended ignorance, swearing vengeance on the villains who had “done this” to his friend. He clenched his teeth until they cracked, crying for justice before the cameras.

But La Mute’s hero days were over. The public who once adored him now recoiled in disgust.

They whispered words like repulsive. Unclean.

He wrapped his body in bandages, wore a mask to hide his scars, and tried to continue working while undergoing treatment.

Yoo Chan despised him—yet every time La Mute’s name was praised, jealousy gnawed at his gut.

Eventually, La Mute was captured again.

This time, the villains carved away the remaining flesh from his body, piece by piece. They tied him up and hung him from the ceiling of a ruined building, leaving him to die without food or water for fifteen days.

And that was where Uichan found him.

He had just been looking for a place to sleep when he stumbled upon the building—and there, hanging from the ceiling, was the mangled figure of a man.

At first, Uichan thought he was already dead. Blood dripped steadily from the corpse, the stench unbearable.

But when he stepped closer—gray eyes flickered open from the shredded face.

Not with hatred.
Not with fury.
But with a faint, eerie smile.

“Hah… hey. Untie me, will you? If you do… I won’t kill you.”

The man’s voice was faint, bubbling with blood.

Uichan just stared, dazed, before cutting the ropes. The man fell heavily to the floor—but his limbs were so grotesquely twisted backward that he couldn’t even stand.

“A-are you alright?”

“I’m fine… can’t walk, though.”

“Don’t move! You’re bleeding everywhere—”

Ignoring him, the man braced against the wall, forcing his mangled legs beneath him. His torn skin split open again, blood spilling freely. Uichan had never seen such sheer willpower.

The man gagged once, wiped his mouth with the back of his arm, and gave a weak, breathless laugh.

“Truth is,” he rasped, looking down at Uichan, “I was planning to kill every witness.”

“But you just said you wouldn’t—”

“Hah… you believed that? They never taught you not to trust adults?”

His body was a ruin—flayed, mutilated, his veins exposed in black-red threads. His ears and nose were gone. And yet, somehow, he was still alive, still smiling.

“…I thought you’d run,” he murmured. “I look hideous. But… seeing you try to help me like this…”

He paused, the corners of his mouth twitching faintly.

“…I don’t want to repay kindness with cruelty this time. I mean it.”

Then, without hesitation, he bit down on his dislocated wrist and snapped it back into place with a sickening crack—no sound of pain escaping his lips.

“At first, I thought it was bad luck. Villains attack heroes all the time. But when it happened again… I realized someone was pulling the strings. I’m going to find out who.”

Uichan said nothing. He simply stepped forward and used his Reversal ability on him. The man’s limbs straightened, his broken body realigned. He smiled quietly as the bones snapped back into place.

When Uichan moved to heal his flayed skin and ruined face, the man raised a trembling hand to stop him.

“Leave it. I want them to see this face when I come for them. It’ll make my revenge complete.”

“If you go out like that, people will call the cops.”

“Then… lend me your jacket, kid.”

Uichan tore his coat and wrapped it around the man’s head like a bandage, then used the remaining fabric to cover his arms and legs. It wasn’t perfect, but it hid the worst of it.

Before leaving, the man turned and looked at him.

“Thank you, kid.”

“My name’s Ha Uichan. Not ‘kid.’”

“Ha Uichan…” The man smiled faintly. “A good name.”

He bent down, ruffled Uichan’s hair once, and said—

“I’ll repay your kindness. Wait for me here, alright?”

He kept that promise.

Afterward, La Mute hunted down the villain organization that had tortured him. He infiltrated their base alone, slaughtered them one by one, and peeled their skins from their bodies. He even severed their ankles to ensure none escaped.

By the end, he had already begun to transcend the Extreme.

And when the fifteenth day came, he discovered the truth.

The one behind it all—the person who’d orchestrated both attacks—was none other than his childhood friend and sworn brother, Yoo Chan.

La Mute found him during a live interview.

He walked straight onto the broadcast set, grabbed Yoo Chan by the hair, and slammed his head into the ground—again and again—until his nose and mouth were smashed to pulp. The entire thing aired live across the nation.

He broke every bone in Yoo Chan’s body one by one. Finally, he tore his face off with his bare hands.

And at that very moment, something awakened within him—
a new power, born from his descent into madness.

He gained the ability to change his skin.

The righteous, compassionate hero La Mute died that day.

And in his place, the world came to know Turn Hyde—
the monster who flayed his enemies alive and wore their faces as his own.

The seven-star constellation of the Big Dipper burned itself into his eyes—a mark that no disguise could ever erase.

That was how people identified him. No matter what face he wore, those stars in his eyes remained unchanged.

And Uichan, too, always knew to look there first.

From that day on, Turn Hyde kept his promise.

When Uichan returned to that abandoned building days later, Hyde was there—waiting for him. Seeing him again, smiling beneath a new borrowed face, made Uichan’s heart pound.

Perhaps it was because he hadn’t felt belonged to anyone in so long.

Hyde greeted him with open arms, and Uichan ran to him, embracing him tightly.

From that day forward, they established a silent rule between them—
“Our first greeting will always be a hug.”