Chapter 33: The Unfilial Child Cries

There was a scene like that in the opening of a movie I saw a long time ago.

A scene where they beat someone who got into a van without knowing anything, and slashed their face.

It was the first scene where the villain of the movie appeared, and because the scene itself was so intense, I still remember the lines the villain said back then.

You’ve been kidnapped.

“Wait, just a minute, there’s no need to tie me up, heeik!?”

“Tie his hands and feet tightly and put a sack over his head. He might run away again.”

“I tied him up tight~. Oppa, let’s go home!!”

“Are you going to keep calling Baek Seo-bang ‘Oppa’? I told you to call him ‘Hyeongbu’?”

“Who uses those titles these days? Anyway, let’s go!!”

I never imagined I’d be subjected to that by my own family, of all people.

And with ropes and a sack, what did these people prepare so professionally?

“I won’t run away, I said I won’t run away!? Why are you treating me like a criminal like this…!!”

“Ugh, your body got smaller, but why is your strength still the same!? Ik, and, you are a criminal. You didn’t even call Dad once, did you?”

My father, who still enjoys leisure sports even in his 60s, and Han-wool, who enjoys exercising like him. With the two of them pressing me down on either side, I can’t even think about escaping.

“Hey, why are you so unrefined!! Do you even lift, bro!?”

“I learned to swim recently!! I’m saying that a protein chunk who doesn’t know anything other than lifting weights will never reach my level!!”

Especially this crazy b*tch. Did she learn to swim in the Pacific Ocean or something? She’s much stronger than the last time I saw her. She wasn’t like this before.

Have I gotten weaker? I’ve definitely gotten weaker, but I shouldn’t be at the point where I can’t beat her. What is this difference in strength?

“Ugh, he’s squirming so much!! Dad, let’s knock him out!!”

Wait, what?

“Yeah, there’s an old saying that the only way to deal with a mad dog is with a club.”

No, why is Father going along with it?

“Ah, Father? It’s Han-byeol? Father’s son, Seo Hanbyeol? I, I’m not a dog, I’m Han-byeol!?”

You crazy people, you can’t just knock someone out like in the movies. It’s dangerous, you know? It’s really danger―

…..

“Mister, mister, wake up~. Is he an Ahgassi now?”

“Ugh….ueee…?”

When I came to my senses, I was surrounded by my family.

“Okay, let’s talk. You son of a b*tch.”

“Ugh….yes…?”

…..Um, there’s something I really want to say.

What kind of reunion is this, between family members.

――

Prepare for unexpected outcomes.

The world is always full of things that don’t go according to plan, so don’t bother wrestling with a plan that’s gone awry.

One is a line I saw in a game, and the other is one of the things my father used to say when I was young.

And the father who said those words is now showing a direct example to his foolish son.

“What are you doing? Get on your knees.”

“Yes…”

Is this what they call Seokgo-daejo? It’s been a long time since I knelt before someone else.

I’ve also heard the advice that you shouldn’t kneel easily before others, but this isn’t an easy situation right now.

“You must have something to say?”

“I was wrong…”

“What were you wrong about?”

“Everything…”

Faced with his father’s furious roar, the unfilial son, who was the cause of the anger, had no choice but to kneel and beg for forgiveness.

…But wait a minute.

“How…how did you recognize me?”

How did these people recognize me at once?

The only thing the old me and the current me have in common is my hair color.

My height, which was close to 190, has shrunk to around 150, and my physique, which was quite broad and sturdy, has completely shriveled up. There shouldn’t be any common ground to be found.

Nevertheless, my parents recognized that I was Seo Hanbyeol, that I was their son, at once. How? By what means?

“Who told you that I had a traffic accident?”

“Jin-woo…”

“Then who else could it be?”

“Who…..ah.”

Lee Jin-woo, that son of a b*tch.

“He didn’t come down and didn’t answer the phone. It was so hard to hear my son’s voice that I asked Jin-woo to find out why he was doing this.”

Just as I have acquaintances among Jin-woo’s parents, Jin-woo also has acquaintances among my parents.

I couldn’t get that close to Jin-woo’s father, who is very strict and dignified, and I’m introverted, but Jin-woo, who is unpretentious, and my father, who has a very outgoing personality, became friends much more easily.

And Jin-woo, even though he seems like a delinquent, knows how to bow politely to elders and superiors. It might not be that strange for Jin-woo and Father, who have compatible personalities and thoroughly respect etiquette, to communicate…

“At first, he just said you were fine, but when I kept pressing him, he finally sent me a picture of a girl, telling me not to be surprised. He said Hanbyeol had changed like this.”

“So that’s how you recognized me…”

I never imagined that Father would borrow Jin-woo’s help. Was it because Jin-woo was the only person he could ask for help? Among my wide but not very deep network of contacts, Jin-woo is the only one who would know my whereabouts.

“But well, even if he hadn’t sent the picture, it would have been the same.”

“Yes?”

“How could I not recognize you? Your face hasn’t changed at all.”

My father said, looking at me with a look that said I was hopeless. Words that were hard to believe.

I’ve changed. My gender has changed, my body has changed, and of course, my face has changed.

No one recognized me, and no one believed that I was Seo Hanbyeol.

“That doesn’t make sense…Ack.”

“I told you. You look exactly like your mom. How could I not recognize that grinning, infuriating face just because your mug changed a little? No way.”

Even so, Father flicked my forehead as if those changes meant nothing.

“Anyone can see that you’re my wife’s child, and if you’re my wife’s child, that means you’re my child. How could a father not recognize his own child?”

“….”

As long as we’re family, there’s no way he couldn’t recognize me.

“….Are you okay?”

“With what.”

“Well…I’m asking if you’re okay with your son suddenly becoming a daughter…”

My father is…well, it feels a bit wrong to criticize my parents as their child, but he has a slightly old-fashioned way of thinking.

Men should be like this. Women should be like that. A way of thinking that would have gotten him a lot of flak if he were a modern person.

Of course, Father wasn’t the type to force his thoughts on others, nor was he the type to discriminate against his children based on their gender.

However, it’s clear that he loved me more because I was a son.

As I said before, I have an older sister.

Not the freeloader who’s still living at my parents’ house, but an older sister who’s quite a bit older than me.

Her name is Seo Haneul. She’s 9 years older than me and 10 years older than Han-wool, so she’s more like a sibling and parent hybrid.

It’s not that we have a bad relationship. On the contrary, my relationship with my sister is very good. Both me and Han-wool.

I like my sister as much as I like my parents, and that’s probably the same for the freeloader, who is the only member of my family I don’t like. My sister has taken care of us since we were babies who hadn’t even dried our blood, so she’s like another parent.

Father also cherished his eldest daughter, who listened well to her parents and took good care of her younger siblings. He always said that there was no daughter as pretty as our daughter in the world, and he bragged about her to everyone in the neighborhood whenever something good happened to her.

By raising such a wonderful daughter as Seo Haneul, Father had fulfilled his wish to raise a daughter properly.

But my sister wasn’t a son.

She was a wonderful child, but my sister is a daughter.

And just as he had the wish to raise a wonderful daughter, Father also had the wish to raise a wonderful son.

Unlike with my sister, when the process itself was a mess because he had her without being prepared, even though he was full of love and care, I grew up in a more stable and prepared environment.

What Father wanted was a son who was similar to him, a son who was, in his own words, cool and manly, but I grew up to be more like my mother and sister than my father.

The one who resembled Father the most was actually the youngest daughter, the freeloader, who wasn’t even planned.

Although it deviated from his intentions, Father was also satisfied with me.

He had succeeded in the goal of having a son who listened to adults, was diligent, and took care of himself. Probably.

So Father loved the wonderful son he had raised.

Not a daughter, but a son.

“Ugh, you good-for-nothing. Honey, is this really that Hanbyeol? Looking at him, I think I raised a moron instead of a son.”

….That’s what I thought.

“Does it change anything whether you’re a man or a woman, a son or a daughter?”

“Doesn’t it…change a lot?”

“What exactly?”

But it wasn’t.

“Does it change the fact that you’re a child who inherited the blood of this Seo Moon-pil, or that you’re the precious second child from our Kang Soo-yeon’s womb?”

Father, Mother, my parents.

“You’re my child. The second Seo Hanbyeol, born to Seo Moon-pil and Soo-yeon, who we wouldn’t even hurt if we put you in our eyes.”

I wasn’t Gregor Samsa’s family.

“Whether you become a woman or a pigeon, the fact that you’re my child doesn’t change. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“…..Yes..”

It was a vain delusion, a futile act.

All the unfilial things I had done to avoid disappointing my parents, to avoid revealing my changed appearance.

“You bad boy. You’ve caused me more heartache than Han-wool. Do you know that?”

“That’s a bit….”

“What do you mean, ‘That’s a bit’? Honey, am I wrong?”

“He has been smoking a lot more lately, hasn’t he?”

It was all a futile act.

Born from the ignorance of not knowing my parents’ nature as a son, and the resulting paranoia.

“Hey, Hanbyeol.”

My mother, who had been sitting quietly next to my father, called out to me.

“…..Yes..”

My answer was a little late. I was forcibly swallowing the sob that kept trying to burst out from inside.

“Did you have fun?”

“……..”

When I was young, when I came home after playing outside until the sun was setting, that was the greeting my mother always gave me.

“…..”

Ah.

I can’t answer, not this time.