Han Jae-Sun, the father of Soo-Ah, was a man who had never been moved by sentiment. His empire, one of the largest and most powerful conglomerates in the world, was built on blood, sweat, and ruthlessness. He had outlived rivals, overcome betrayals, and crushed enemies with a quiet smile. His world was one of cold calculation, unyielding power, and control.
So, when he walked into the private chambers of the Kang estate — where Dae-Hyun had become a creature of obsessions and machines, stripped of everything but his single-minded goal — Han Jae-Sun did not come with an open heart.
He came with a fist.
"Where is she?" Han Jae-Sun's voice was sharp, like a blade drawn across stone. His eyes glinted with barely contained rage. The delicate silk tie around his neck seemed to constrict the longer he stared at Dae-Hyun, who sat calmly, as if the entire world had crumbled and nothing could touch him.
"She's in the lab, as you requested," Dae-Hyun said, his voice a dead, detached monotone. He did not look up from his screen, the holographic image of Soo-Ah's brainwaves shifting and pulsing in real-time before him. His fingers danced across the holographic interface, tweaking settings with expert precision.
"She's not a science project," Han Jae-Sun snapped, his eyes blazing. "She's my daughter. My daughter who you... killed!"
Dae-Hyun's gaze flickered to the older man, but there was no fire in his eyes. No rage. Just the hollow vacancy that had consumed him.
"I did not kill her," Dae-Hyun replied, voice cold. "I am doing everything I can to bring her back. To save her."
"Save her?" Han Jae-Sun scoffed, stepping closer, his fists clenched at his sides. "You've lost your mind, Dae-Hyun. This... this madness of yours is beyond anything I could have imagined. My daughter is gone. She is gone, and you—" His voice faltered for a moment. He stepped back, as if the words were too heavy, too painful to speak.
But the silence stretched between them, and Han Jae-Sun's anger began to morph into something else. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.
"You're obsessed. This is not the way. This cannot be the way. You've forgotten everything else — your son... our legacy... everything we built..." Han Jae-Sun's voice softened, only slightly, but there was a tightness to it. "She was everything to you, Dae-Hyun. And now... you have become this."
Dae-Hyun's face was impassive, but the words hit harder than they should have. His jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he didn't let his father-in-law see. His entire body language remained still, remote, like a stone.
"I have not forgotten," he replied, his tone as emotionless as it was precise. "Min-Jun is dead. And Soo-Ah... Soo-Ah is still here. I'm not letting her go. Not like this."
The air in the room grew heavier with the weight of the words, and Han Jae-Sun found himself staring at the man who was once his daughter's husband — the man who had loved her more than anything, more than life itself, now standing before him as a shell of that person.
"Do you even feel anything anymore?" Han Jae-Sun demanded. "Does she even cross your mind beyond this... machine of yours?"
Dae-Hyun's fingers froze for a moment, the holographic interface stuttering in response. For the briefest moment, he felt something stir — something faint, something fleeting, like a phantom. Min-Jun's face. The laugh they'd shared. The moment she had cradled their son in her arms for the first time.
But the ghost vanished as quickly as it appeared, and Dae-Hyun forced the thoughts away.
"She's alive in here," he said, pointing to his temple. "And that's enough. It's all that matters."
Han Jae-Sun stared at him, his anger now blending with something darker. He had never understood the depths of love between Dae-Hyun and Soo-Ah — had never seen the bond that had tied them so closely together. He had watched Dae-Hyun falter under the weight of his grief after the accident, but even then, he had seen potential in him. Potential that, in his own ruthless way, he had hoped would one day blossom.
But this? This obsession? It was not the man he had expected.
Han Jae-Sun was angry, furious even, at how the young man before him had fallen apart. At how Dae-Hyun was choosing to destroy himself rather than accept the reality. He should have been angrier — should have denounced Dae-Hyun's actions as the madness that they truly were. But beneath the fury, something unsettling stirred inside him.
In the silence that followed, Han Jae-Sun thought of his daughter — of Soo-Ah. Of the woman she had been, and the woman she could never be again. He thought of Dae-Hyun's devotion, his relentless pursuit to bring her back — his obsession to resurrect her.
And somewhere deep inside, Han Jae-Sun felt a dark satisfaction.
Because for the first time in months, Dae-Hyun was no longer drowning in grief. He had risen above it. Transformed. He had done what Han Jae-Sun had never expected him to do: he had moved forward.
He had let go of the child who had died, the life that had been torn away. And though the cost was high — though it was twisted — he had finally overcome his loss.
Han Jae-Sun did not voice these thoughts. He did not speak them aloud. There was no room for tenderness, no room for understanding in this cold, harsh world of business and legacy. But inside, hidden beneath layers of pride and bitterness, a small flicker of something almost like relief stirred.
"Whatever this is," Han Jae-Sun said, his voice quiet but harsh, "I won't allow it. I won't let you turn her into a machine."
Dae-Hyun looked at him then — not with anger, but with the same chilling calm he had perfected over the past months.
"I'm not turning her into a machine. I'm bringing her back."
And as Han Jae-Sun turned to leave, the silence of the room engulfed them both, thick with the weight of what had been said — and what had been left unspoken.
Would you like to dive deeper into Han Jae-Sun's internal conflict, or explore Dae-Hyun's continued obsession with Project Persephone? Perhaps the next chapter could explore the political intrigue surrounding Soo-Ah's coma — maybe the Han family wants control, or Dae-Hyun is forced to confront the limits of his plan. What direction should we take next?