Before Akira could answer, the pitter-patter of small feet pulled his attention elsewhere. The sound was light, almost musical, but it carried a weight that tugged at his focus. He turned his head slightly, his sharp eyes softening as they landed on the source of the noise.
The little daughter of Cha-Jong peeked through the doorway into the room, her round eyes wide with apprehension and fear. She clutched a stuffed animal tightly against her chest, her tiny fingers digging into the fabric as if it were her only anchor in the world. Her presence was a stark contrast to the tension that had been hanging in the air moments before.
She tiptoed closer to Akira, her steps hesitant. When she reached him, she looked up with an innocence that made his chest tighten. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it carried a sincerity that struck him deeply.
"Are you alright, Big Bro?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "You made me worried."
Akira blinked, momentarily caught off guard. The innocence in her voice and the genuine care in her eyes pierced through the walls he had built around himself. For a moment, he felt exposed, vulnerable. A rare softness crossed his face, and he smiled warmly at her, his usual guarded demeanor melting away.
"Yeah, I'm fine now," he whispered back, his voice gentle. "And with such a pretty little girl worrying about me, how could I not be?"
The girl's face brightened instantly, her concern dissolving into a pleased grin. She giggled softly, the sound like a balm to Akira's weary soul. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to bask in the simplicity of her joy, a stark contrast to the chaos that had become his life.
The door swung open, and in walked Cha-Jong's wife, Min-Ji. She was a stately, elegant woman, tall with distinguished features that carried an intrinsic grace. Even in simple house clothes, she exuded a quiet dignity that seemed to light up the room. Her smile was warm, but there was a teasing glint in her eyes as she addressed Akira.
"Hello, kiddo," she said, her tone light but laced with relief."You finally decided to wake up, huh?You had my husband and little girl worried sick, you know."
Akira squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze, his hand instinctively moving to massage the back of his neck. He wasn't used to this kind of attention, especially not from strange people who seemed to genuinely care about him. It made him feel both grateful and uneasy, as if he didn't quite deserve it.
"Yeah… sorry for all the trouble I caused," he muttered apologetically, his voice low.
Min-Ji waved a hand dismissively, her laughter filling the room. "No issue," she said, her tone reassuring. "As long as you apologize, we're good. Now come on, you need food. I made a lot, and you'd better eat every bite if you want to recover properly."
She nodded toward the dining table, where several steaming dishes were set out. The smell of fresh-cooked food filled the air, and Akira's stomach growled audibly, betraying his hunger. He hesitated, unsure how to react to such unreserved hospitality. It had been a while since he had been treated with such kindness.
Min-Ji clapped her hands, her smile widening. "See? Your stomach agrees, too. No more stalling—come eat."
Reluctantly, Akira followed them to the table where the family had gathered. Plates of rice, grilled fish, kimchi, soups, and an array of side dishes were neatly arranged, each one inviting and comforting. Yuna, Cha-Jong's daughter, sat next to him, her eyes full of curiosity and delight as she watched him.
As Akira ate, he couldn't help but notice the scene before him. The simplicity of it all—a family sitting together, laughing, sharing stories—was a picture so unlike the isolated and cruel life he had been living. It was a stark reminder of what he had lost, and for a moment, he felt a pang of longing so sharp it almost took his breath away.
Cha-Jong, who had been quietly observing him, broke the silence after a pause. His tone was serious, but there was a gentleness in his voice that made Akira look up.
"I know there's more you're not telling us, Akira," Cha-Jong said, his gaze steady. "And I respect that. I'm not going to pry into your past. But for now, just know you're safe here. My family and I owe you that much."
Akira nodded, his expression softening slightly. He appreciated Cha-Jong's discretion but he couldn't help wonder how long he could keep his thoughts buried in this table before they surfaced so he decided to speak and question them.
"Cha-Jong," Akira began, his voice hesitant, "what happened in the dungeon? After I collapsed, what did you all do?"
Cha-Jong's movements stilled for a moment, the chopsticks in his hand pausing mid-air. He set them down deliberately, his expression carefully neutral. "Someone… scary came and slew that vampire," he said, his voice steady but tinged with something Akira couldn't quite place. "Then he was gone. We didn't even get a proper look at him. It all happened in such a hurry."
Akira frowned, his mind racing. "Someone came and killed her? Just like that? She was unbelievably strong. And you're saying he finished her with ease?"
Cha-Jong nodded, his face unreadable. "I don't know who he was. He vanished just as suddenly as he appeared. I'm sorry, Akira, that's all I know."
Akira's brow furrowed as he tried to piece together the fragmented memories of the fight. He remembered the overwhelming strength of the vampire, the way she had toyed with them as if they were nothing more than insects. For someone to defeat her so effortlessly was almost incomprehensible.
"Do you know something else?" Akira pressed, his voice low and urgent. "Anything at all about who he was or why he helped us?"
Cha-Jong hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before he spoke. "There was one thing," he said slowly, as if weighing his words. "After he killed the vampire, he said something… strange. He told us the dungeon wasn't even close to being cleared. That we weren't ready for what was deeper inside. He said, 'You're not even close to clearing this place.' Then he opened a gate for us and told us to leave. We didn't argue. We withdrew immediately."
Akira's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. "He opened an exit gate for you? Just like that?"
Cha-Jong nodded. "Yeah. I don't know how he did it, but he made it seem effortless. Like he'd done it a thousand times before. And then he was gone, just as quickly as he appeared."
Akira leaned back in his chair, his expression darkening. "So, not only did this guy kill the vampire like it was nothing, but he also knew the dungeon well enough to warn you about what's deeper inside? And he had the power to open a gate on command?"
Cha-Jong shrugged, his tone uneasy. "That's about the size of it. I don't know who he was, Akira, but he wasn't like anyone I've ever seen before. He was… different. Dangerous, but not in the way you'd expect. He didn't feel like an enemy, but he didn't feel like an ally either. Just… someone who knew far more than he let on."
Akira's jaw tightened as he processed the information. Whoever this person was, they were operating on a level far beyond anything Akira had encountered.
For a fleeting moment, a thought crossed Akira's mind—the old homeless man. The one who had helped him before, who had appeared out of nowhere and killed thousands of people for his 'sake' and a demeanor that suggested he knew far more than he let on. "Could it have been him? No, that is impossible. The bastard made it clear the last time we met 'I won't help you again. You're on your own now.'" Those words had been final, almost cold in their certainty. And yet… the way this mysterious figure had acted, the way he had intervened and then vanished without a trace—it felt eerily familiar.
Akira shook his head, dismissing the thought. It couldn't have been him. The homeless man had made his stance clear, and Akira doubted he'd go back on his word. Still, the coincidence gnawed at him. What were the chances that two enigmatic figures with that kind of power were running around, both showing up at just the right moment to save him?
"Did he say anything else?" Akira asked, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper.
Cha-Jong shook his head. "No. He didn't stick around long enough for questions. But if I had to guess, he wasn't the type to give answers freely. Whoever he is, he's playing a different game than the rest of us."
"But… I remember my arm being cut off," Akira said slowly, his voice tinged with confusion. "How is it intact now? And fully healed?"
The question made Cha-Jong's face change ever so subtly, a flicker of something unspoken crossing his features. He quickly recovered, smiling faintly. "You never lost your arm," he said, his tone firm. "That was illusion magic the vampire used to mess with your mind and ours."
Akira's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Cha-Jong's face. "Illusion magic?" he thought, his mind churning. "Maybe. But it had felt too real. Too visceral. The pain, the blood, the sheer helplessness—it had all been so vivid." He glanced down at his arm, flexing his fingers as if to confirm it was still there. "Yet Cha-Jong seems so sure. His tone leaves no room for doubt. Does he know something he's not saying? Or is he just trying to hide me from the truth?"
After a moment, Akira nodded, though the doubt still lingered in the back of his mind. "Fine," he said finally, his voice resolute. "If you say so."
The awkwardness hung in the air for a second before Min-Ji finally broke the ice, her voice positive and chipper. "Enough heavy talk at the table. Kiddo, eat up. You'll need your strength if you plan on leaving this house anytime soon."
Yuna tugged on Akira's arm, her innocent voice cutting through the tension. "Big Bro, will you stay with us a little longer? You're fun to have around."
Akira looked at her, taken aback by her frankness. A real smile pulled at the edges of his lips, and for a moment, he felt a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. "I'll stay a little longer if your mom doesn't kick me out first," he said, his tone teasing.
Min-Ji burst out laughing, and Cha-Jong shook his head, smiling amusedly. The tension in the room dissipated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie that Akira hadn't realized he had been missing.
As the meal continued, Akira found himself relaxing more, his guard slowly lowering. He absently ruffled Yuna's hair, eliciting a giggle from the little girl. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she clutched his hand, her trust in him unwavering.
Having finished the meal, Akira leaned back with a contented sigh. "Ah, man, I'm stuffed. It was great," he said, a rare, sincere smile on his face. "Thanks, Min-Ji. I appreciated it."
Min-Ji beamed at him, her hands still busy clearing the plates. "I'm glad you liked it, Akira. It's a pleasure having you here."
Cha-Jong, who had been unusually silent during the conversation, set his cup down and leaned forward. His face was diffident, a mixture of curiosity and respect. "Akira… I've wanted to ask you something," he began, his voice hesitant.
Akira lifted an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for him to continue.
"Your last name… Shoto," Cha-Jong said slowly, his gaze steady. "That's the same as Shiro Shoto, the genius who built the foundation of modern dungeon technology.By any chance, are you related to him?"
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Akira's easy manner snapped rigid, his smile vanishing as if it had never been there. His dark eyes, which had been warm just moments before, now brewed with a tempest of emotions. He dropped his gaze to the table, his jaw tightening as he struggled to keep his composure.
Cha-Jong immediately raised a hand in a gesture of apology, his expression contrite. "I—sorry, Akira, I didn't mean to…"
After a heavy pause, Akira finally spoke, his voice low but steady. "...I'm his son."
The weight of those words crashed into the room like a tidal wave. Cha-Jong's eyes widened, and he sat back abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. Min-Ji gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as her eyes darted between Akira and Cha-Jong.
"R-Really?" Cha-Jong stuttered, his face a mixture of shock and disbelief. "For real? His son? But… everyone thought you died too, a year after Shiro passed away!"
"I know," Akira replied, his tone clipped. "That's what everyone thinks. But the reality is completely different."
The silence that followed was stifling. Cha-Jong opened and closed his mouth several times, clearly struggling to find the right words. Finally, he whispered, "I'm sorry I brought it up. But… if it's not too much to ask, will you tell me what truly happened?"
Akira he let out a long sigh and leaned back in his chair, his expression weary. "Why not?" he said, his voice resigned. "You already know I'm alive. No point in hiding it now."
Cha-Jong turned to Min-Ji, his voice gentle but firm. "Take Yuna and go to your room for a while, please."
Min-Ji nodded, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. She took Yuna's hand, leading the little girl away from the table. As they left, Akira could hear Yuna's innocent voice.
"Mommy, why does Big Bro looks so sad?"
Min-Ji's response was soft, almost inaudible, but it carried a note of reassurance. "He's just remembering some things, sweetheart. Let's give him some space, okay?"
As the door closed behind them, Akira took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to reveal. The truth was a burden he had carried alone for far too long, shared only once before with Hiroshi, his father's old friend for the first time, he was about to share it with someone else.
"Alright," he said, his voice low but steady. "I'll tell you what happened. But it's not a pretty story."