Hero’s Child C44

Chapter 44

Uichan froze when he realized what he was doing—his trembling fingers clutching the man’s hand and pressing it against his cheek. He quickly tried to pull away, to put distance between them, but a large, steady hand caught him before he could.

Why now, of all times… and why him?

Through the man’s dark hair, Uichan glimpsed the faint shimmer of gray eyes—eyes that looked hauntingly familiar, almost identical to someone he prayed never to see again. And yet, here he was, as if summoned by fate itself.

“Just say the word,” the man murmured with a gentle smile, resting his chin on Uichan’s knee. “I’ll help you.”

The man’s name was La Epee.

Uichan squeezed his eyes shut. Behind the black of his eyelids, red lines swayed and pulsed like heat haze. But in the end, his body betrayed him. Against that cold, soothing touch, he went limp—helplessly clinging to the only thing keeping him from breaking.

“Thank you. I hope you have a beautiful baby too.”

The man smiled at Uichan’s words, then turned and walked away.

When he rounded the corner, a nurse stood waiting by the next consultation room, clipboard in hand.

“Mr. Dan Yeonhu? You may go in now.”

Inside, the faint clatter of typing filled the room. Dr. Oh Juhyuk looked up from his monitor with a pleasant, professional smile.

“Ah, welcome. Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you,” Yeonhu replied warmly, his tone polite as he settled into the chair across from the desk.

For a moment, the doctor glanced at him curiously. His physique was striking—broad-shouldered, towering, composed. Yet his expression was mild, even affable.

“Mr. Dan Yeonhu,” the doctor began, flipping through his digital chart, “you booked an appointment with the male obstetrics department. Are you experiencing any early pregnancy symptoms?”

“Well…” The man tilted his head, feigning thought. “I’m not sure. I’ve been feeling nauseous lately. What kind of tests would you recommend?”

“I see. In that case, we’ll start with a short questionnaire, and then we’ll perform an ultrasound, just to be safe.”

Dr. Oh slid a clipboard and pen across the table. The man accepted them casually, crossing one leg over the other as he began to fill it out.

As he checked the boxes, his gaze drifted idly down the form. Then, as if making idle conversation, he asked:

“Doctor, I happened to see one of the maternity journals outside—those little booklets with the ultrasound pictures pasted in the front. Do you always give those out?”

“Yes,” Dr. Oh replied. “They serve as important records for expectant parents—tracking the baby’s development and health progress. Quite useful for reference.”

“I see… then, one more question, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course. Go ahead.”

The man’s pen hovered over a question: ‘When was your last sexual encounter?’ He filled it in neatly—Three months ago.

“The pregnant man who left just before me,” he said suddenly, still looking at the page. “How far along is he?”

“…Excuse me?”

Dr. Oh blinked, thinking he’d misheard. But the man kept writing, calmly flipping to the next page. His movements were fluid, deliberate.

“At this stage, he should be entering his ninth week,” the man continued. “But he told me he’s only eight. I’m curious why that might be.”

The doctor’s brow furrowed. “What exactly are you talking about, Mr. Dan?”

The question was absurd—impossible. Discussing another patient’s record? Dr. Oh stared, half in disbelief.

But the man didn’t seem fazed. He only twirled his pen lazily between his fingers.

“The ultrasound showed twins,” he said conversationally, “but now there are three. I’m quite curious how that happened. You’ll explain, won’t you?”

“Mr. Dan,” Dr. Oh’s tone sharpened. “By law, I can’t disclose another patient’s information. If you didn’t come for your own treatment, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Ah,” the man murmured, smiling faintly. “But I’m not a stranger.”

The pen stilled. He set it down quietly, brushed back his hair—and his eyes changed.

The deep black irises turned pale, silver-white. A constellation shimmered faintly within them.

Dr. Oh’s breath hitched. “Y-you’re—!”

Every citizen knew what it meant—the eyes marked with starlight.

Before the doctor could reach the panic button under his desk, the man snapped his fingers.

Dr. Oh slumped in his chair like a marionette with its strings cut. His limbs twitched once, twice—then stilled. When he raised his head again, his eyes were cloudy, empty, like fogged glass.

The man leaned back comfortably, resting an elbow on the chair arm.

“I’ve recently become a father,” he said softly. “But I don’t know whose child it is. I’d like to find out.”

“…”

“So you’ll tell me everything, won’t you, Doctor? In as much detail as possible.”

Dr. Oh adjusted his glasses with mechanical calm. His lips curved into a faint, vacant smile.

“Of course. You’re the biological father of Ha Uichan’s children, correct? I’ll start by going over the latest examination records. Please look here.”

Hyde—no longer pretending to be Yeonhu—smiled faintly. “Good. I’m glad you understand me.”

The doctor turned the monitor toward him. On the screen, the ultrasound replayed in slow motion.

The rhythmic pulse of three heartbeats filled the silence.

Two strong. One faint.

Hyde’s smile faded as he listened. His instincts told him what the images already confirmed: all three children had different fathers.

“…My poor Uichan,” he murmured, voice low.

The doctor continued speaking in his calm, detached tone, recounting every detail from the emergency admission, every medical observation, every test. It was as if Hyde were watching Uichan’s past unspool before his eyes—plucked straight from the doctor’s memories.

When it was done, Hyde glanced at the clock on the wall. Exactly thirty minutes had passed.

“Thank you, Doctor. That was… enlightening. I think I know what to do now.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Dr. Oh said pleasantly. “Take care, then.”

The chair creaked as Hyde rose. He left the room, closing the door behind him.

The moment it shut, Dr. Oh gasped—like someone waking from a nightmare.

He blinked at his monitor, confusion twisting his expression.

“What the…? Did I fall asleep?” He rubbed his forehead. “I must be losing my mind.”

Shaking his head, he glanced at the still-open patient record on the screen.

“Huh… when did he leave?”

The quiet resumed, filled only by the rhythmic clatter of typing.

Outside, the man walked past the reception desk, unseen, unnoticed.

By the time he stepped into the sunlight, his appearance had shifted again.

No longer Dan Yeonhu. No longer Hyde.

His face was refined, almost handsome—eyes pale as clouds, but now carefully devoid of their starlit mark.

Across the street, a giant digital billboard flickered to life.

[Report villains at 1600. Heroes are always on your side.]

The hero in the advertisement smiled charismatically.

La Epee.

People stopped to watch, chatting excitedly, pointing.

Not one of them realized that the very man from the ad was walking right past them.

La Epee crossed the street.

“…Ah.”

He froze at the crosswalk, his expression tightening.

Across the road, on a park bench, someone was curled up, trembling. The spilled chocolate drink had spread across the pavement like a dark stain.

Uichan.

La Epee’s eyes darkened.

He crossed as the light changed and knelt before the man, lowering himself to meet Uichan’s pain-filled gaze.

“Uichan.”

“Haa… ngh…”

“What are you doing here?”

His large hand slipped beneath Uichan’s thigh, holding it firmly, possessively. The trembling of that feverish body sent a flicker of something raw through him. Uichan blinked, dazed, his foggy eyes slowly focusing on the man before him—until recognition widened them.

La Epee smiled faintly.

“So much pain,” he whispered. “But it can’t be helped, can it, Uichan?”

—Doctor, may I ask something?
If I wanted to keep only one child alive… what should I do?

Simple. The father gives his power to one fetus. That child absorbs the others. It’s a natural miscarriage.

Ah… through sex, then.

The chilling exchange from the clinic—words Uichan would never hear—echoed in La Epee’s mind.

His hand lingered on Uichan’s thigh, tracing the spot where the injury once was.

When he felt no resistance, his pale gray eyes curved like crescents.

There was no need to wait any longer.

In his mind, the thought solidified—cold, resolute.

Three was too many. It would only exhaust Uichan.

One child would be enough.

With just the right amount of greed, La Epee cupped Uichan’s face gently—almost tenderly—and whispered,

“Just one will do.”