Dirty Sweet Baby Chapter 62

“Ha.”

Seeing Heeheon’s crumpled face, Cha Moogyul showed a look of displeasure, as if he found it absurd. With his eyes cast firmly down, he spoke in a sarcastic tone.

“Hyung, why are you trying so hard to provoke me. It won’t do you any good to get hurt again.”

With an irritable touch, he loosened his tie and placed it on top of his jacket. Turning his back to Heeheon and moving away from him, he rolled up his shirt sleeves, one at a time.

“You don’t seriously think I only smuggled out one healing factor, do you…”

Heeheon, immediately understanding the indirect meaning, gasped.

It was nothing short of a threat. It meant that no matter how badly Baek Heeheon got hurt right here and now, as long as his Core wasn’t shattered, he could be fixed with an injection of a healing factor.

Whether an arm was broken or a leg was cut off, a healing factor could fix it all perfectly. To begin with, it was a special military supply for Awoken who fought against Creatures. Cha Moogyul annihilated them so overwhelmingly and instantly that people forgot, but in truth, Creatures were extremely dangerous lifeforms, even to the Awoken.

They mimicked other lifeforms on Earth by copying their shapes, but their essence was not that of a living being; they did not sleep, eat, or reproduce, and possessed only a destructive instinct. If not for the healing factor, the Awoken who went to battle against the countless Creatures pouring out of the Gates would have all been dead or disabled by now. Of course, using such a healing factor for personal reasons was a serious crime for which one could not escape responsibility.

Heeheon, unable to erase the wretched expression from his face, retorted, steeped in humiliation.

“Are you saying you’re going to assault me? By misusing a healing factor, no less…?”

“I’m just telling you to be careful. Right now, I have absolutely no confidence that I can treat you gently.”

“You bastard, you’ve never once been gentle, you son of a bitch.”

“That can’t be true. I’m so soft on you, hyung.”

Wearing a frigid, cold smile as if suppressing his anger, he left Heeheon in the living room and walked slowly to the opposite side. He disappeared around a corner into a hidden space, and a moment later, returned carrying a tray with a glass and a bottle of golden blended whiskey. He set it down on the living room table, picked up the bottle, and poured some into the glass.

“Drink.”

He pushed the glass in front of Heeheon. Then, he poured another glass for himself and leaned back languidly on the sofa.

Heeheon held his breath, watching his every move. Cha Moogyul was silently savoring his drink, showing no signs of hurry or impatience. It didn’t seem like he was going to be the one to break the ice and start the conversation.

The chilly, frozen atmosphere, the space of Cha Moogyul’s own home, the situation that had become too intricately tangled to ever undo, and the revelation of the kiss he had never wanted exposed… Weighed down by all the overwhelming predicaments, Heeheon slowly reached out and grasped the glass.

He wondered if he should be the one to probe and question him first, but the calculation that he shouldn’t act rashly took precedence. Provoking Cha Moogyul at this juncture would do him no good, and while he didn’t know what story he was about to tell, he was certain it wouldn’t be something he could listen to sober. Drinking would probably help.

“…”

Heeheon downed the whiskey in the glass in one go. The golden alcohol seared his esophagus as it traveled down his body. It felt like he had swallowed a ball of fire.

However, Baek Heeheon, who had become an Awoken at twenty and dedicated himself to training, had never had the leisure to enjoy worldly pleasures. Having never even learned how to drink properly, it was obvious what state he would be in after chugging high-proof whiskey. The strong alcohol made his head spin, and the distinct bitter taste made him grimace.

“You can’t hold your liquor.”

Cha Moogyul muttered as if tossing the words out.

“You should drink slowly. You’ll throw up like that.”

“Uh…”

“Well, I can see you’re desperate, though.”

“…”

Heeheon gripped the empty glass tightly in his hand. Honestly, if he had his way, he felt like smashing this very glass in Cha Moogyul’s face right now.

“And you, Cha Moogyul, why are you so calm… Even for you, shouldn’t you feel at least a little regretful? After your mother caught you doing such an impure thing…”

“I told you, nothing will change. So what would I have to regret.”

“You son of a bitch…”

“I do feel sorry for you, hyung. For your information, I’m willing to take three or four hits if you want.”

“Can I shoot you with a gun? Count that as one hit.”

“Not bad. It seems you want to kill me now.”

“You have the healing factor, don’t you. Heal yourself.”

“You only have one target to aim for… Are you planning to miss with those skills of yours?”

“You’re not… a Creature, after all.”

“Your grudge is still shallow, I see. I’ll have to try harder.”

He killed time exchanging such trivial words with Cha Moogyul. After his anger had subsided to some extent, Cha Moogyul gazed at Heeheon with eyes that had settled into a state of emotionlessness. The passion that had been precariously churning, as if it would burst through his pupils, had now calmed down considerably.

Putting the glass aside, he leaned his body loosely against the sofa. Now he could see that his suit, too, was spattered with the blood Heeheon had shed, leaving red stains.

“Alright, where should I start.”

Cha Moogyul curled one corner of his lip, as if for show. From that crooked, twisted smile, it seemed he could glimpse the rings of hatred that had accumulated in layers within him.

“You’re probably only thinking back to about eight years ago at most.”

Heeheon heard those words in a dazed and heated state of mind. Perhaps it was the alcohol he had gulped down so quickly, but he was short of breath and his face felt flushed.

“I’m right, aren’t I. Eight years.”

“Well, like I said, it’s shallow… Dig deeper. About fifteen years, by count.”

What, fifteen years?

No way. That’s absurd.

Dumbfounded, Heeheon couldn’t hide his rising sense of rejection. He was even suspicious that Cha Moogyul was trying to toy with him or was spouting some preposterous lie.

And for good reason—fifteen years ago, Baek Heeheon would have been ten at most, and Cha Moogyul only nine. What could children that young possibly have done… Reading the distinct disbelief in his eyes, Cha Moogyul scoffed as if he were fed up.

“The old saying about falling in love at first sight… Do you believe in it, hyung?”

When was it? The time when it became more natural to feel difference than kinship.

The heir to the Musan Group. The only son for three generations. From the moment he was born, Cha Moogyul was a being created by condensing and refining all the superiority in the world into a single drop. It didn’t take him long to realize that the abundance given to him was not given to others, and that the environment that was natural for him was not natural for others.

From a very young age, Cha Moogyul was aware of his own otherness.

His family environment contributed greatly to this. Two families joined by a political marriage. Cha Moogyul was born from the matrimony of parents who had the backing of two giants, one in politics and one in finance.

Isn’t marriage often likened to the union of two households? It was an alliance built on interests and practical benefits rather than love or devotion, and it was a perfect, or near-ideal, family. In their affluent environment, there was rarely a reason to raise voices or argue, and since the strengths of the two families were clearly divided, they respected each other.

Of course, this didn’t mean there were no seeds of discord at all. In Cha Moogyul’s family, there was just one problem, buried out of sight, just waiting for a chance to sprout.

“Who is this? This woman.”

A woman problem.

Cha Moogyul’s biological mother, after having a complete background check done through the professionals who handled the family’s affairs, and in a state of knowing every detail of the situation, asked Cha Kwon Il, Cha Moogyul’s biological father.

The single photograph she presented showed a woman with a much younger and more youthful face than her present one. She was wearing rough work clothes and rubber boots, with a dirt-covered shovel slung over her shoulder.

“Lee Eunhong. Is she someone I need to be concerned about? Perhaps I should prepare a decent gift. To send every holiday.”

“There’s no need for that. She’s not an important woman.”

Cha Kwon Il, glancing at the photo, replied with a cold and dry expression. Just like the Cha Moogyul of today.

“I know, that she’s not an important woman. A gravedigger’s daughter. They say she takes care of my father-in-law’s grave site. It must be hard… it’s a struggle every year.”

“What struggle. If you insist, send some fruit or something.”

“In whose name? My name, or your name? She knows you have a wife, I assume…?”

After that, Cha Moogyul’s biological mother, as promised, sent fruit to the gravedigger’s daughter, Lee Eunhong, every year. One might wonder if there was any need for the cherished, wealthy young lady of a family in politics for generations, who grew up wanting for nothing, to go out of her way to keep a mere gravedigger’s daughter in check, but in fact, her response was quite appropriate.

<The old saying about falling in love at first sight… Do you believe in it, hyung?>

Fifteen years ago, the nine-year-old Cha Moogyul clearly remembered the conversation his biological mother had with his maternal grandmother in the drawing room.

“It was when he lost his father at a young age and was at his most vulnerable, a time when he was surrounded only by a pack of wolves trying to tear away his fortune, that he went to visit the grave alone and met her after holing himself up there for days on end. I don’t know what the two of them talked about, but it must have been quite poignant. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he fell in love at first sight.”