Terrestrial Savior Archetype - T.S.A Chapter 14 (part 1): Stroke of Luck (2)

“…I’m back.”

Jeong-woo bowed his head and stepped inside the entrance, and Sun-woong stared at him in a daze.

“I’m glad you’re safe.”

Thump.

The man who had been holding a spoon set it down and slowly stood up from his seat.

He looked to be in his late fifties, and his already graying hair was strikingly white.

Sun-woong tried to adapt to this awkward encounter as he continued to stand outside the entrance.

Contrary to his intimidating gaze, the man was rather small in stature.

He appeared to be around 170 cm tall.

Though he seemed a bit stout, he was by no means large-framed.

However, his hands were rough and tough, unlike anything Sun-woong had encountered before.

They were as firm as hardened clay.

Although Sun-woong had always considered himself to have rough hands, compared to those, his felt as soft as silk…

“Jeong-woo’s colleague, right? Don’t feel uncomfortable. Come in.”

The man, Jeong-woo’s father, gestured for Sun-woong to come in.

For a moment, Sun-woong almost nodded his head unconsciously, charmed by the man’s surprisingly gentle tone.

“Yes, thank you.”

He stammered as he stepped inside, and the man approached, extending his hand.

“We’re meeting for the first time, right? I’m Park Min-gu.”

“Ah, yes… It’s nice to meet you. I’m Cho Sun-woong, the team leader in the ‘Watcher’ division.”

Though he had met all sorts of people before, this was the first time Sun-woong felt so nervous.

In front of those hands that seemed as if they were molded from solid clay, he hesitated, bowing his head.

Before it was too late, he quickly shook the man’s hand.

Thump.

As Sun-woong’s thin right hand was sucked into Park Min-gu’s thick palm, it trembled slightly.

He felt as if this “father” was thoroughly examining his face.

“But are you a predator?”

“Excuse me…?”

A sudden, unexpected question.

As Sun-woong raised his head in surprise, a sinister gleam flashed in the man’s eyes.

His right hand was still holding onto Sun-woong’s.

Thud.

Although it wasn’t loud enough to cause a scream, there was enough threatening force in Park Min-gu’s grip to make Sun-woong uneasy.

He tried to pull his hand back, but Min-gu didn’t let go, and just as Jeong-woo noticed the tension and intervened.

“What kind of madness is this?”

Jeong-woo forcefully pushed his father’s shoulder.

Thanks to that, Sun-woong managed to free his hand, but it only made him more nervous.

He thought perhaps Jeong-woo and his father might start fighting.

However, Min-gu, who had been pushed back by his son, glanced briefly at Sun-woong and returned to his seat.

Sizzle.

The sound of chopsticks clashing echoed in the narrow hallway.

“…”

A bowl of rice and a plate of kimchi were placed on the folding dining table.

As Jeong-woo stared at them intently, Min-gu pointed somewhere with his left hand.

“When things got rough, I went out to get provisions. There are plenty of them near the kitchen. Take what you can carry. If you need anything else, just help yourself. Don’t stay in this neighborhood for too long. The signs aren’t good.”

Min-gu pointed out various spots in the air.

Although Sun-woong couldn’t fully grasp what he meant, Jeong-woo, who had lived in this house with him, understood perfectly.

Those vague points his father marked were the locations of hidden weapons within the house.

Park Min-gu, 59 years old.

A man who concealed all sorts of weapons under shoe cabinets, under beds, and among piles of books.

He wasn’t a former special forces member or an ex-gangster. He was simply a somewhat eccentric person, though somewhat unique for someone from a poor family.

Born as the youngest in a destitute household, he was a boy who used to lie about their living conditions.

By the time he entered school, he pretended to be a tough boy who excelled in fighting.

And by the time he joined society…

‘…A fraud.’

Jeong-woo looked down at his father, who was awkwardly eating kimchi with his waist slouched.

His father used to be a fraud long ago.

He wasn’t a mastermind behind economic crimes, making a fortune from them.

It was his habit.

No, his habit of lying like it was second nature.

To earn a substantial amount of money, he took bank loans and ventured into various businesses. However, each business collapsed whenever it seemed to be stabilizing.

And the reason for that was truly unbelievable.

He swindled the investors he met to attract more money.

For projects that were uncertain and dubious, he made confident promises and received conditional investments too freely.

It was like a ‘happiness circuit’ gone mad, reaching the level of delusion.

Back when Jeong-woo was still in elementary school, he couldn’t forget what his mother told him one day.

“At first, I thought your dad was just a compulsive liar. But he wasn’t. At least he genuinely believed everything he said. He thought everything would work out the way he envisioned. But to others, it was just lies. And that was the truth.”

She added, “That’s a mental illness. A mental illness. I’m sorry that your father raised you like that. I’m sorry for making you unhappy…”

It was about a year after she left that note when his mother passed away.

It wasn’t suicide.

She was killed by a car that rushed onto the pavement while waiting at a traffic light.

Probably due to drunk driving.

Still, Jeong-woo believed for a while that his mother committed suicide.

Around that time, his father’s last venture had catastrophically failed, and the “unhappiness” his mother foresaw began.

The man’s reddened face and angry creditors.

The loans that Father secretly borrowed from someone have returned as a vivid threat.

It was the first time Jeong-woo realized how frightening people could be when they gathered.

Then one day, a man who claimed to be a private investigator, to whom Father owed money, came with some sturdy-looking men.

Jeong-woo saw his father’s head being shoved into the toilet, and since that day, Park Min-gu moved houses three times.

Next, they got rid of the house phone and never left any records of conversations with their son.

It was from that moment that Jeong-woo didn’t know his father’s cell phone number anymore.

The following year, Jeong-woo became a third-year middle school student and got into accidents occasionally, for which he was beaten by his father every time.

These two shared a painful history, creating a complicated bond of affection.

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