Hero’s Child C12

Chapter 12

“……”

Maybe it had been a little too powerful. While others fired bullets that struck like water guns, Uichan’s shot had exploded like a cannon. The blast had been so strong it nearly caused a collapse, almost burying a nearby worker. Because of that, he’d been yelled at for a solid ten minutes.

Uichan had no excuse. For a few moments, he stood speechless, only wondering whether the weapon’s energy had somehow seeped into him back then. If that lingering trace was what made the black panther so affectionate toward him now—it would make sense.

Then, suddenly—

Step, step—

Footsteps echoed from the park entrance. Someone was running toward them. Uichan’s head snapped up. He reached for his glasses and hurriedly unfolded the frame, but before he could put them on, the approaching figure was already near.

“<Blacktan, are you here?>”

The voice came in fluent English—a fully armed man scanning the area. At the same time, a large hand wrapped around Uichan’s shoulder and pulled him close. Before he could react, his forehead brushed against a broad chest.

He was enveloped—swallowed by the warmth and scent of Yeo Taehwon’s body. There was a faint tang of blood, gunpowder, and freshly laundered fabric… and beneath it all, a cool, clean undertone, like winter air brushing the skin.

“<Ah, there you are.>”

The approaching man, a soldier from Litan, stopped a few paces away. He started to step forward—then froze, catching sight of the enormous beast prowling nearby. Instinct warned him to keep his distance. Only then did he notice the figure half-hidden in Blacktan’s arms, face buried in his chest.

A prickle of cold sweat trickled down the soldier’s spine. Some primal instinct told him this was dangerous—to get any closer would be a mistake. Lowering his rifle, he exchanged a glance with his superior.

“<Cleanup’s finished, sir. You should take a look.>”

“<Understood. Go ahead. I’ll follow soon.>”

“<Yes, sir.>”

Once the armed hero disappeared, the park fell into a thick, uneasy silence. Uichan, still pressed against Blacktan’s chest, finally lifted his head. In the darkness, those golden eyes met his, faintly aglow, sharp and unreadable.

The intensity of his gaze made Uichan’s palms sweat. Then, gently, the man reached forward. Taking the glasses from Uichan’s trembling hand, he unfolded the arms and placed them on his face himself. The familiar frame settled over his nose, transforming his expression instantly into something mild, almost gentle.

“You should keep these on,” Yeo Taehwon murmured.

“Ah… yes. Thank you.”

Uichan bowed his head politely, but at that moment, his radio crackled to life—Song Ojun’s voice barking from the other end. Rising quickly to his feet, Uichan brushed down his uniform, which had gotten hopelessly wrinkled.

Yeo Taehwon, ever precise in his bearing, seemed bothered by the sight. After a short hesitation, he reached out, grasped the lapels of Uichan’s work suit, and straightened them. Then he zipped the front up to his collarbone.

“The night air is cold. You’re not well—be careful on your way back.”

Uichan hesitated, then nodded. Blacktan watched him for a moment longer, then turned as if forcing himself to leave. The massive panther brushed its head against Uichan’s chest before following its master into the dark.

But a sudden thought stopped Uichan.

“Blacktan.”

He turned. “Yes?”

“I want to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“…I heard you’re searching for Under Doom. What do you plan to do if you find him?”

The question came cautiously, laced with dread. Uichan couldn’t help it—he’d heard from Jekyll Jack just yesterday that Blacktan had been stirring up chaos around Seoul again. Apparently, the two had even clashed, and though Jekyll Jack ended up with a broken arm, Blacktan hadn’t suffered so much as a scratch.

“There’s something I want to confirm,” the man replied simply.

Uichan hesitated, unsure whether to press further. Asking too much might raise suspicion. Yet Blacktan didn’t move on. He stood there, lost in thought, his golden eyes softening, brow faintly creased.

Yeo Taehwon’s story was well-known to those who cared to dig deep enough. Born among refugees captured by a terrorist organization, he’d been sold to the private military company Litan at the age of three. There, he awakened—and was raised as a living weapon.

For him, emotion was waste. Compassion and sympathy were luxuries that only got you killed. In war, mercy was a blade turned inward. Among such principles, Yeo Taehwon had become Litan’s masterpiece—a flawless, emotionless killing machine.

But on that night—the night he fell into the pit—something within him cracked.

Even beneath skin that should’ve been drained of all feeling, there had always been a pulse, a hidden ember of emotion. That night, he felt it for the first time—a searing, uncontrollable surge that burned through the restraints of discipline. Desire, urgency, hunger. A sense of liberation so raw it terrified him.

In Litan, emotions and sexuality were systematically erased. They were distractions, obstacles to efficiency. For years, Yeo Taehwon had been an empty shell, a soldier with the switch permanently flipped to “off.” But that night…

He had felt something.

And now, he needed to know what it was. To confirm it—at any cost.

“And that,” he said quietly, “is something I can only confirm through Under Doom. Does that answer your question?”

“…If you do confirm it, what happens to him?”

A faint smile tugged at his lips—barely there, but enough to lighten his otherwise severe face.

“To your eyes, I must seem like I’m hunting Under Doom to destroy him,” he said.

“That’s something only you would know.”

“I intend to protect him.”

Protect him?

Uichan froze. The words didn’t compute. A hero protecting a villain? If anyone at the Hero Association heard such a thing, they’d probably foam at the mouth.

“Before others can touch him, I’ll secure him myself,” Blacktan continued evenly. “I’ll claim guardianship, purchase his release, and keep him under my watch. Permanently.”

“……”

“It’s only natural,” he added. “To claim and protect what has fallen into one’s hands.”

“…But Under Doom is a villain.”

“It doesn’t matter. If it becomes an issue, I’ll buy his freedom through the Association’s bail and sponsorship system, and keep him beside me for the rest of his life under my supervision. Under Doom hasn’t committed any major crimes—he won’t face imprisonment. And if he does… I’ll prevent it.”

He spoke so calmly, so decisively, as if declaring he’d pay ransom to buy a person outright. A hero—claiming he’d use his own wealth to pull a villain out of custody.

Uichan could only stare, blinking blankly.

When he gave no reply, Blacktan seemed to take that as an answer. He dipped his head slightly and turned away.

Uichan watched him go—watched as he left the park, paused in the alleyway, opened a trash bin, looked inside, then closed it again without a word and continued on.

Only after his shadow had completely vanished did Uichan snap back to himself.

Bzzt— [Static]—Hey, kid, where are you?

Song Ojun’s voice crackled over the radio again. Shaking off the lingering daze, Uichan quickly pulled up his mask and hurried back toward the site, taking a longer route to avoid crossing paths with Blacktan.

By the time he arrived, the members of Nonhier were slumped on the ground, covered in dirt, catching their breath after finishing the cleanup.

As Uichan approached, they greeted him with half-hearted complaints. Song Ojun frowned but didn’t scold him or ask why he’d been gone.

“Look at Litan over there—checking every inch like hawks.”

“Yeah, they’re the ones who wrecked the place, and now they’re freaking out over a few bloodstains.”

Everyone worked nervously, afraid of getting blamed for something. Uichan’s gaze drifted, finding the broad-shouldered figure of Yeo Taehwon among the inspection team.

As if sensing the stare, Blacktan turned, his golden eyes locking directly on Uichan. Startled, Uichan adjusted his glasses and quickly looked away. Who could’ve imagined that the reason this man hunted Under Doom was to keep him by his side—under the guise of protection?

Protection, surveillance—it was hard to tell the difference.

Either way, Uichan could only resolve one thing:

For now, he had to stay invisible. Whatever happened, he couldn’t afford to be found.

The Nonhier office was a sanctuary for failed heroes—those who still believed they could save the world through the “righteousness of sanctioned wrongdoing.”

The cramped ten-pyeong office was cluttered with mismatched furniture, barely functional but sufficient. The agency had five members, including Uichan, though tonight, everyone had already gone home. The place was silent, shadows pooling under the dim lights.

“I’m sorry for always calling you here, Mother.”

Uichan set down a cup of steaming tea on the table. Across from him, Mother Ship sat gracefully, lifting her teacup and glancing around the office with mild curiosity.

“It can’t be helped,” she said with a gentle smile. “Hyde told all the brothers they’re forbidden from entering your house. If not for that, Jekyll Jack would’ve barged in every other day. But this place is fine. It feels warm—because it’s where you work, Uichan.”

As she smiled and took a sip, Podo, crouched on all fours beside her like a lazy pet, rolled over the sofa with a soft thump.