Hero’s Child C38

Chapter 38

If that happened, the Association would be able to track down the children.

Of course, Uichan had planned to raise them together with the brothers from In the Hell once their births were registered. But when it came to medical care or the education required for their abilities, government assistance would be unavoidable.

And, above all, there was the question of how the three great heroes—once they learned they had children—would react.

Judging from Noah’s earlier response, he wouldn’t take the news well. Blacktan, given his temperament, might remain indifferent. As for La Épée… he’d probably just scoff.

…But for now, they need a father.

Realizing that his thoughts were spiraling into negativity, Uichan gave his head a quick shake. First, the hospital. One step at a time. Wanting to distract himself, he started walking toward the building ahead.

Yet, oddly, he could feel someone’s gaze pricking at his back.

Uichan limped forward, then stopped. The presence behind him also halted.

Limp—
Tap, tap—

When he started walking again, the other’s footsteps resumed, following him. Uichan turned a corner, heading toward a quiet, deserted back street. At the dead end, littered with trash and plastered flyers, he picked up a discarded wooden plank.

Then, turning sharply, he fixed his eyes on whoever had been tailing him.

The person who came jogging into the alley was an ordinary-looking man wearing torn jeans and a hoodie.

“Why are you following me?”

The man froze under his glare, scratching awkwardly at the back of his head.

“Ahaha… sorry. I thought you were someone I knew.”

“If you knew me, you’d have called out instead of stalking me.”

When Uichan adjusted his grip on the plank, the man waved his hands frantically, alarmed.

“No, really! I honestly thought you were a friend of mine. I must’ve mistaken you for him.”

Funny. Uichan was currently wearing his disguise glasses, the kind that blurred his features. There was no way this stranger could have mistaken him for someone else. Most people would glance once and move on—but this one had followed him. That could only mean he had a purpose, and not a good one.

“I swear, you just look so much like him. And you’re hurt, right? Your ankle? I noticed you limping earlier. My friend injured his left leg too, coincidentally enough.”

“……”

“Shouldn’t you be at a hospital? You don’t even have a cast—”

“That’s none of your business. If you’re done, go your way.”

Uichan’s voice went cold. The man laughed weakly, embarrassed—but still didn’t leave.

“S-sorry… but, how’d you get hurt? I could, uh, help you to the hospital?”

He stepped closer again. His tone was polite, his manner harmless—but something about him radiated chill. The air around him reeked of wrongness.

Should I use my ability?

Luckily, the power he’d borrowed from Song Ojun, Nonhier’s commander, was still saved in his pickpocket slot. Song Ojun was a strength-type ability user who could convert the durability of anything he touched into raw physical force.

Feigning fatigue, Uichan leaned against the concrete wall, waiting for the right moment.

“It’s strange,” the man continued with a crooked grin. “My friend got hurt the same way. You know how? While stealing something!”

His voice twisted. In a blink, his demeanor turned feral.

Eyes bulging unnaturally, he lunged forward, arms outstretched to grab Uichan.

But Uichan swung the wooden plank, striking the back of his knees, and activated Song Ojun’s ability. The strength of the concrete surged through his body as he drove his fist straight into the man.

The assailant crossed his arms to shield his face—but the impact sent him skidding three meters back before he stopped. His forearms were bent grotesquely in the shape of Uichan’s fist, and his face had turned ashen. His eyes gleamed with a ghastly, unnatural light.

He looked like a demon risen from the underworld.

“…Under six feet tall, slender build, injured leg. Yes… that’s the one.”

With each breath, blue smoke curled from the man’s mouth. Cracking his neck side to side, he scanned Uichan from head to toe.

“They said to bring in a slim guy with a leg injury. So that’s you, isn’t it? You’re the one!!”

With a furious roar, he charged again, black claws sprouting like knives from his fingertips.

Damn it.

Whether he was possessed by a dokkaebi—or one himself—Uichan didn’t know, but fighting head-on would be suicide. His eyes darted around for an escape route, but the creature was relentless.

“Where’s the item, boy? The thing you stole—where is it?”

Crash!

The dokkaebi’s claws collided with Uichan’s fist. The impact shook the ground faintly, like two boulders colliding. At this rate, someone would call for help, and heroes would come—but could he last that long?

“What item? You’re attacking me out of nowhere, I don’t even—ugh!”

“Maybe I’ll roast you until you talk. Or… maybe you’re not the right one?”

Cold sweat slid down Uichan’s spine. So someone had seen it—the day Podo stole the item and he’d taken it to run. One of the dokkaebi must’ve witnessed him.

But they clearly didn’t know he was Under Doom. They seemed to be grabbing anyone who vaguely matched the description. And, as always, luck had abandoned him—he’d been spotted.

“Guess we’ll find out once I drag you off and boil you alive.”

The dokkaebi lunged, exploiting every opening. Uichan stumbled backward, struggling to keep balance. His injured leg made it impossible to stand firm; every shift in weight tipped him off-center.

Crash!

If he’d known this would happen, he should’ve copied Jekyll Jack’s ability instead. His borrowed power was like concrete—solid, but not unbreakable—while the dokkaebi’s strength felt like reinforced steel. No wonder Jekyll Jack had struggled against these things.

I have to dodge… I can’t win like this.

But the creature didn’t give him any chance to retreat. Each blow pushed him farther into the corner. Then suddenly, he felt something odd—his injured leg… didn’t hurt anymore.

Wait.

His gaze snapped downward.

The pain’s gone?

Moments ago, the throbbing had been unbearable. Now he felt nothing.

He hastily tore off his glove with his teeth, unwound the bandages around his hand—and froze.

“…What the…”

The skin was flawless, smooth as if new flesh had grown. No sign of the burns remained. For an instant, he wondered if he had somehow used regression—but that was impossible. That ability didn’t work on his own body.

Then how…?

Why?

“Should I break your leg—or just rip it off?”

The dokkaebi’s snarl snapped him back to reality. Uichan raised his head. Something inside him had changed—his body felt lighter, faster. He dodged the next attack with startling ease. The creature’s eyes flickered, realizing it too.

“You’re carrying something strange, aren’t you?”

Its eerie, glistening eyes drifted downward, fixing on Uichan’s lower abdomen—as though seeing right through him. Its grin stretched wide, showing every tooth.

“So that’s it. That’s what you’re hiding.”

With a howl, it changed targets. Its black claws shot forward, aimed directly at his stomach.

“You bastard—what do you think you’re—”

“Curious, aren’t you? I’m curious too!”

Uichan tried to retreat, but his foot slipped on a crushed aluminum can, sending him sprawling to the ground. The claws came down toward his skull like spears.

He grabbed whatever his hand could find and prepared to throw it—

Whistle—!

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

Then, in an instant, the world around them warped. The scenery bled and shifted, and like a tiger snatching its prey, a black shadow flashed past, clamping its jaws around the dokkaebi’s neck.

At the mouth of the filthy alley, a set of old paper sliding doors materialized, sealing off the space. It was as if the dokkaebi had been trapped inside a cage of light and ink.

Beyond the translucent panels, shadows flitted—one of a demon, the other of a leopard—clashing and twisting in violent silhouette.

There was only one person Uichan knew who could perform such a feat.

Hyde.

Slash—!

Blood splattered across the paper doors, spreading like dark ink.

And then, from behind, strong arms wrapped around Uichan’s shoulders, pulling him into a solid chest.

But it wasn’t the person he expected.

“…I was one step too late.”

It was Blacktan.

His voice was low, gravelly, and tense. Uichan stiffened at the feel of leather gloves pressing against his nape—the faint smell of blood heavy in the air.

He must have come straight from a battlefield. His combat suit was smeared with dirt and streaks of crimson.

Footnotes

1. Dokkaebi (도깨비) — In Korean folklore, a supernatural being or goblin with immense strength and mischief, often violent when corrupted.