Hero’s Child C31

Chapter 31

Dr. Oh Juhyuk’s expression hardened as he adjusted the ultrasound machine. The monitor flickered to life, revealing the faint grayscale image of the fetuses. Two steady, rhythmic heartbeats filled the room. Amid the murky shadows, two small clusters of light pulsed with life.

But then—Uichan’s eyes caught something else. A third outline, dim and uncertain, with a faint, fragile rhythm that fluttered in his ears like a whisper.

“Do you see it too, Mr. Ha?” Juhyuk asked, pointing to the screen. “Here—this part. It’s faint, but you can see the yolk sac. The heartbeat is weaker than the other two, but… it’s there. Alive. It must have been hidden behind the other twins last time, but now that the gestational sac has expanded, it’s visible.”

“That means…”

“Yes,” the doctor said quietly. “You’re carrying triplets.”

The words struck Uichan like a physical blow. His throat tightened. Unbidden, the image of the two white tiger cubs from his dream came back to him—their wet eyes, their mournful cries, the way they had licked at his skin as if trying to comfort him.

Back then, he hadn’t noticed. But now he remembered—the shallow hollow beside them in the grass. A third space. Empty.

So that’s why one of them hadn’t appeared before him.

“Doctor,” he murmured, voice trembling, “that baby… is it all right?”

“…That’s what I’m about to explain.” The doctor hesitated, then added heavily, “It may be something even God Himself couldn’t fix. But if you’re not willing to give up on them—any of them—then we’ll do everything we can.”

“Give up…?”

Uichan’s lips trembled as he spoke. A cold sweat ran down his back. He hadn’t even known of the child’s existence until now, but after hearing there were three, the thought of losing one made his chest ache. He could endure pain—his own didn’t matter—but not if it meant sacrificing them.

“If I told you,” the doctor said softly, “that your condition was dangerous and you had to let one go… would you?”

“No.” His voice cracked, but his eyes burned with certainty. “I can’t. I won’t. I’ll have all three—healthy, alive.”

He clutched his stomach and shook his head. The doctor, unsurprised, simply sat straighter and pulled the monitor closer again.

“I don’t usually recommend carrying triplets,” he began, “but in your case, I can’t advise otherwise. Look here.”

He replayed the footage. The two active fetuses moved—violently. Their motions seemed less like fidgeting and more like struggling against each other, limbs pushing, twisting.

“The babies,” Juhyuk said. “What do you think? Doesn’t it look like they’re fighting? That’s what made me use my ability to check further. What I saw… was two fetuses locked in a power struggle. I believe it’s because the womb is too small.”

“A… power struggle?”

“To put it gently, yes,” the doctor replied. “Bluntly—they’re fighting to kill each other. Their instincts recognize the other as a threat, an enemy to be eliminated. The stronger they grow, the more violently they reject one another. That’s what’s causing your pain.”

Uichan fell silent, the blood draining from his face. His gaze dropped to his belly, trembling. Then… the third one—was it being crushed between them? Unable to grow?

“So my pain,” he said slowly, “it’s because of that?”

“Yes. But it’s not that the stronger two are attacking the weaker one. Rather, the third fetus is unstable, and that weakness has thrown everything off balance. If all three had grown evenly, they would’ve been too busy keeping each other in check to fight. But because the third is fragile, the others are instinctively panicking, fighting for survival.”

Survival—pure, primal instinct. The womb was small, the space limited, and so the strong fought to claim what they needed to live.

But Uichan knew, deep down, that wasn’t the whole story. The cubs in his dream hadn’t been fighting out of fear. He could feel it. Yet he said nothing—he didn’t want to be dismissed as delusional.

“…Is there a solution?”

“It’s not certain,” Juhyuk admitted. “But there’s a way to try—by preventing the fight. Making them see each other not as enemies.”

“How?”

Juhyuk paused, carefully choosing his words.

“Please don’t misunderstand,” he said slowly. “At a seminar years ago, I heard of a similar case. The mother was carrying twins with different fathers. Her health was deteriorating—she couldn’t sustain both. Selective reduction wasn’t an option, so the father tried another method.”

Uichan stayed quiet.

“He gave one fetus strength—his energy, his life force. That child overpowered the other, and the weaker one naturally miscarried. But,” Juhyuk added quickly as Uichan’s face paled, “I’m not suggesting you do that.”

He could feel Park Rion’s glare boring into him from behind, and he wiped the sweat from his brow before continuing.

“If we leave things as they are, one or even both of the stronger fetuses might miscarry. So we need to make them recognize each other as equals—beings they must not harm.”

His tone rose, passionate now.

“The method is… aggressive, yes. But the idea is to infuse each fetus with equal paternal energy—give each one the same strength so they view one another as counterparts rather than rivals. That balance could stabilize them.”

“And if the empowered child becomes too strong?” Uichan asked.

“That’s where the third fetus becomes crucial,” Juhyuk said. “It must grow enough to act as a mediator. In the case from the paper, when the father’s energy was first introduced, the fetuses were calm for about two weeks—watching, waiting. But once he continued favoring only one, the other began to fight back. In your case, there are three. A trio can balance each other—each watching the others.”

Two might destroy each other, but three could coexist through tension. It sounded theoretical, almost idealistic—but Juhyuk spoke with confidence born from experience.

“If that’s the case,” Rion interrupted, voice trembling, “can Uichan do it? Will that save them?”

Juhyuk hesitated, then exhaled. His voice was quiet but steady.

“…In the paper, it was described as transferring paternal energy. But in truth—it meant physical contact. For the father’s power to reach the womb, there’s only one way.”

“What—what kind of nonsense is that?!” Rion exploded, grabbing the doctor by the collar. “Are you out of your mind, you quack?!”

Uichan sat frozen, while Rion shook with rage.

“Would you rather let him suffer?” the doctor snapped back. “We’re talking about saving all three lives here. If nothing is done, Mr. Ha’s condition could deteriorate rapidly.”

Rion’s grip loosened. He stepped back, stunned into silence, and sank into a chair like a man mourning the living. Juhyuk straightened his wrinkled coat, sighing.

Then he looked at Uichan again, eyes sharp behind his glasses. There was still one last truth to tell.

“…From what I observed,” he said, “the three fetuses don’t share the same father. Correct?”

“……”

“Mr. Ha. Am I correct?”

He had used his ability to confirm it—there was no point denying it. After a long moment, Uichan opened his mouth.

“…Yes.”

Rion collapsed backward with a thud. He had thought he’d run out of shocks for the day—but that one nearly stopped his heart. Three babies. Three fathers.

Juhyuk, on the other hand, looked almost relieved. He pointed to the faint, flickering image of the smallest fetus on the screen.

“Then we need to focus on saving the weakest one first. I can’t say for certain whether it survived because of your ability or because it was hidden before. But now that it’s visible, we have to act.”

“What do I need to do?” Uichan asked quietly.

“Find the third father,” Juhyuk said. “We don’t know how long that fetus can endure. It’s urgent that you contact all three and determine which one he is. Once you do, you’ll need to stay close to him—physically.”

“……”

“Even then,” the doctor continued, “I can’t promise the baby will make it. As I said—this is something even divine intervention might not resolve.”

In his thirteen years as an obstetrician, Oh Juhyuk had never faced a case like this. Yet he remained composed, methodical, focused only on finding a path forward.

“If the third child stabilizes,” he said softly, “then—though it will be difficult—all three will be born safely. They’ll balance one another, and the conflict will cease. So, Mr. Ha…”

Uichan’s gaze fell to his hands, fingers fidgeting anxiously. He didn’t want anyone to see how tightly wound he was, how fear crawled beneath his skin.

But he couldn’t stop the doctor’s final words.

“It’s time to tell them.”