Blood Is Thicker Than Water

"You've already heard plenty about the agency from the Boss, so I'll speak freely. The investigation into Yoo Seul-ho's parents, Yoo Tae-ho and Lee Seul-myeong, is completely finished."

When he said the report would be ready within the week once it was written up, I shook my head.

"No. There's no need to polish it into a formal document. It's not like I commissioned this to submit anywhere. Just tell me now, verbally."

"Hmm…."

For some reason, Cho Kyung-beom didn't open his mouth.

As I wondered what was wrong with him and waited in silence, he went and fetched a thick wad of paper from somewhere and handed it over.

"This is data recording the couple's recent conversations. You'll know how the content was collected, and everything they've said about Yoo Seul-ho is in there."

"Is it too long to explain out loud?"

"No, that's not it… just read it for yourself first."

Kyung-beom mumbled the words away with a troubled expression.

I couldn't quite understand the reaction, but I obediently began to read. And within a few seconds, I understood his hesitation perfectly.

…I see.

Vicious. Utterly vicious.

Every single line written on that paper was so venomous it made my skin crawl — it hardly sounded like the conversation of a couple discussing their one and only son.

I'd barely turned a few pages and my head was already swimming.

To them, I would appear to be the "real Yoo Seul-ho, minus his memories" — which meant they'd have been even more guarded with their words around him. And on top of that, they must have reasoned that a man with so little trust in his own family that he'd spent serious money at a private investigation agency to dig into them would take a devastating blow if he ever learned his own parents talked about him like this.

And I'm not even the real Yoo Seul-ho, and I still feel filthy.

As I thought how fortunate it was that Yoo Seul-ho didn't have to sit here and read this paper, it suddenly occurred to me — was he really unaware, though?

A man who'd gone so far as to prepare a motion to have his parental rights restricted — and parents casual enough to hold this kind of conversation between the two of them — it seemed far more likely that they hadn't bothered to watch their mouths in front of their son, either.

Even if I were Seul-ho, I don't know how I'd have borne it.

The more pages I turned, the more my heart went out to him.

No one in this world has it easy, sure. But nothing is harder than having parents who despise you.

And if having no parents at all would've been better, then there's nothing more to say.

When I finished the last page, I sat in silence. Kyung-beom, who had been studying my face, added carefully:

"This wasn't obtained through wiretaps. It's information from someone who was in the same child-actor group as Yoo Seul-ho years ago. There was one occasion where Seul-ho apologized on set for a mistake, and that person happened to witness, unseen, what happened afterward — Lee Seul-myeong, Yoo Seul-ho's mother, absolutely tearing into him."

"At him?"

"Yes. For daring to apologize to other people. It was a long time ago, so the exact wording may be off, but it went something like: 'The moment you apologize as though it were your fault, it becomes your fault for real — and that is an insult to us, your parents.' Apparently the sight of her screaming at a child was so savage that even now, nearly twenty years later, the witness remembers it vividly."

Ha.

The absurdity of it wrung a dry laugh out of me. And as I laughed, the memory of my first day inside Yoo Seul-ho's body surfaced.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

When I'd asked what had happened between PD Jang and Yoo Seul-ho, his manager, Hyun Jin-gae, had answered like this:

"You were so godawful at acting you caused massive shooting delays, and then you didn't even say sorry — just stood there stiff as a board, so obviously the PD blew up. When you inconvenience people around you, you should at least know how to apologize. If I were PD Jang, I'd have beaten you black and blue ages ago. Seriously, what the hell do you even live for, you little bastard?"

I'd thought something was off about that even at the time. I just never imagined it, too, was the handiwork of Yoo Seul-ho's deranged parents.

So that's the kind of parents they are — the kind who'd tear into a kid not even ten years old over something like that.

Yoo Tae-ho and Lee Seul-myeong were, without question, terrible parents — and yet, astonishingly, celebrities with a flawless public image. That was true back then, and it's true now. Both of them had been called the icons of an entire generation in their youth, and even now, well into middle age, they were still spoken of as reigning top stars.

Working in the same industry as parents like that, dreaming of freedom would have been nearly impossible. And the desperate flailing he'd made to survive — clinging to a different agency — had been wrecked by their interference too. No wonder his mind had broken.

Hm.

Far more rotten than I'd imagined.

They had been no help whatsoever in Yoo Seul-ho's life, which meant they had to be cleared away.

The problem is, they're parent and child.

These two were nothing like Woo Jun-seo or Director Shin. This wasn't a bond you could sever cleanly by exposing weaknesses and burying them.

In Korean society, they call it cheonryun — a bond made by heaven itself.

More than mere family, it's classified as a tie heaven ordained. A relationship a person cannot choose, and must never cut first. No matter how wounded you are, no matter how many times you fall, it's the relationship people clumsily patch up with the phrase "blood is thicker than water."

When you think about it, it's hilarious.

Blood is thicker than water — so what? Plenty of things are thicker than water.

For one, coffee is way thicker than water.

But Yoo Seul-ho hadn't gotten a nice iced americano. He'd gotten mask-wearing psychopaths for parents.

Even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if I dug up weaknesses so damning they'd strip Yoo Tae-ho and Lee Seul-myeong of their very humanity and exposed them to the world, Yoo Seul-ho would be attacked right alongside them — for the simple reason that he was their child.

When parents wound you, enduring it is what a child is supposed to do. In Korea, at least, declaring "my parents and I are different" — branded as impiety — was somehow a greater disqualification from humanity than committing an actual crime.

Not an easy problem, this.

How the hell was I supposed to handle them?

While I was sorting through it all in my head, Cho Kyung-beom spoke up in a calm, even voice.

"I can't say for certain how Yoo Seul-ho thinks now, but judging from the couple's conversations, the Yoo Seul-ho who lost his memories seems to have been a fairly obedient son."

"I think so too."

"The partnership you proposed earlier will need more thought… but if it did go ahead, it would benefit us for Yoo Seul-ho to live his career as a fully independent individual. If he behaves the way he did before losing his memories, we'd be cautious about investing."

"You don't need to worry about that—"

"Which is exactly why, on this point, we will help you."

Uncharacteristically, Kyung-beom cut me off, his voice firm.

"If the two of them are ever caught scheming to obstruct Yoo Seul-ho's activities, we will make sure you have countermeasures ready."

"Why?"

"It's too grand to call a partnership investment. Think of it as a light courtesy. Considering how close you were to our Boss, this is what we are extending to you."

His tone was surprisingly gentle, but my question remained unanswered. Even if Kyung-beom was a decent-hearted bastard, wasn't this too… human an intervention?

As I hesitated, wondering whether there was an angle I'd failed to read, Hwang Tae-jun, standing beside us, scratched the back of his neck and laughed.

"I think our boss is too embarrassed to say it, but it's really nothing special. See, we're… kind of sensitive about this particular issue."

"Sorry, what?"

"W-well, you heard it from the Big Boss himself, right? All of us grew up without parents. He's the one who scraped us off the streets and fed us and raised us, so—"

"Tae-jun."

At Kyung-beom's low voice, the youngest clamped his mouth shut in a panic.

But I'd already gotten everything I needed.

…These bastards.

They'd given me the honest reason, and yet I didn't feel any better. If anything, I felt heavier.

I'd grown up without ever once seeing my birth parents' faces either, but I'd never spent a single day of my life resenting it. It was possible because I was too busy making money to spare time for feelings like that.

I'd assumed my men were much the same.

And here they were, going soft the moment they heard one sad story. Honestly.

And here I'd thought I'd raised them right. Clearly, I hadn't finished the job.

Whew.

I'd assumed that once I received the full report on Yoo Seul-ho's parents, the shape of how to handle them would come into focus. But the road ahead was still pitch-black.

It was a shame there was no concrete countermeasure in hand yet…

Still, I've gained reinforcements.

From now on, when it came time to face Yoo Seul-ho's parents, I'd have the agency's help without spending a won.

Today I'd obtained Director Shin's weakness, assessed the condition of my original body, and even earned the trust of my old crew.

Not a bad day, all things considered.

For the first time in a long while, nothing had actually been resolved — and yet the future didn't feel hopeless. Feeling that strange, unfamiliar sensation, I headed out to the parking lot.

"If anything happens to the Boss, we'll contact you immediately at the number you gave us today. Get home safe."

"I will."

I bowed my head to Cho Kyung-beom, who was bidding me a scrupulously formal farewell — and was just turning to get straight into the car when the youngest suddenly grabbed my sleeve.

"Um… Seul-ho-ssi?"

"…?"

"I'm sorry about grabbing your collar earlier. I got a little too worked up, and…"

I swallowed a sigh at the sight of him apologizing over something my brain had long since deleted.

Good grief.

I'd been the one forced to pick him up off the street and raise him, but the youngest was, more than anyone, a naively honest kid utterly unsuited to this line of work.

Behind him, Kyung-beom seemed to be thinking exactly the same thing, sighing loud enough to make no secret of it.

"Tae-jun, do not go around apologizing to people like that. Rude beats easy prey a hundred times out of a hundred."

"Oh! Yes, right. That's exactly what the Big Boss always tells me, and I just keep failing to fix—"

"I'll be going now."

"Yes, sir! See you next time!!"

I left the cheerful send-off behind and got in the car. Pulling out of the building and onto the road back to the hotel, I found myself thinking.

Will I get trauma from meeting Yoo Seul-ho's parents too?

How horrific did it have to be, for a body to reject its second lease on life and black out? Which meant that when I, wearing Yoo Seul-ho's skin, faced the parents who had tormented him — would I really come out of it unscathed?

Then again, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠remembering how whatever vile drink that was had barely fazed me, maybe I'd be fine.

Either way — don't you worry, Yoo Seul-ho.

From here on out, I'm the one who's going to end this vicious cycle.

With that vow, I pressed down on the accelerator.