Some of the servants in the room seemed to hold their breath.
That name—Dedy—wasn't just any name in this household. He was the Virellano family's personal bodyguard, rarely seen, but his presence was the stuff of legend.
David, though keeping a straight face, swallowed reflexively. Aurielle and Sarah, despite knowing Dedy well, still felt a chilling pressure in his presence.
To them, Dedy was someone better left undisturbed.
They couldn't help but wonder—
Why was Dedy being brought in to punish Al? When they themselves had been punished, it was never more than mild physical discipline, a scolding, or something trivial like a cut in allowance.
Dedy was typically only summoned to discipline outsiders who had committed serious offenses. Did Edward see Al as an outsider?
Regardless, both David and Sarah smiled slightly, pleased by the decision.
Meanwhile, Sandra looked visibly shaken. She glanced away from her husband, her eyes filled with anxiety. She wanted to say something, to intervene, to stop the punishment.
But she knew—once Edward spoke, his words were final. All she could do was clasp her hands, lower her head, and exhale silently.
Al, still standing in the same spot since the beginning, showed no sign of change. His shoulders were relaxed. One hand brushed cobwebs off his hair while the other covered his mouth to stifle a yawn.
His eyes didn't show fear—only sleepiness and mild confusion.
Ugh… is it already this dramatic? I thought it was all over. But now… they even want to punish me. I can't let this slide.
He then turned to look at Edward and Sandra one by one. His eyes scanned them sharply, assessing every micro-expression.
"I don't understand what's happening here. I'm being accused, without clear evidence, only on testimony, without much explanation, and suddenly I'm being punished?" Al said.
"I expected more from this family, but what I see… you all are truly strange. Huff," he muttered lazily, shaking his head.
His words were enough to irritate them.
"What right do you have to comment on us? The proof is right in front of you. Look at this maid. She has told everything," Sarah said, her voice firm, fingers gripping the edge of the sofa. Her posture was rigid, reflecting her certainty.
"That's not proof, that's a testimony. How many times must it be repeated? You and the others discussed this already. So why haven't you realized?" Al replied.
"Haah... I thought elite families were supposed to be rational, but apparently some people don't even know the difference between testimony and physical evidence." Al continued sarcastically, voice steady but laced with disbelief.
Unbeknownst to him, his emotions were stirred again. The bright lights reflected off the polished floor and glass surfaces, adding a sharp sterility to the tension.
Sarah could only grit her teeth at that, wanting to lash out in anger, but Aurielle intercepted her.
"You're just trying to make things difficult for us. You know yourself, there's no clear physical evidence. And you're still asking that?"
"But actually, everything still makes sense. At least there is testimony. And you yourself… You're a wild kid from the streets. It all makes sense to us," Aurielle said lazily.
She leaning back on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other. Her expression was cool, dismissive, but attentive to every word.
"But it doesn't make sense to me. I can't believe someone who serves as a CEO of a major company could think that lowly. You don't even know who I am outside, right?" Al replied, sarcasm clear in his tone, jaw tightening.
But his chest started to feel hot, as if his anger could spill over at any moment. And he was beginning to realize that too.
Aurielle's eyes narrowed, irritation creeping in.
"I don't need to know who you are outside, cause I have my intuition. Something only a successful businessman possesses."
"But I'm human, not a business opportunity," Al said, shaking his head slowly, shoulders slumping in mild disappointment.
"Al, don't make this difficult," Aurielle said sharply, flicking her hair lightly.
"Enough of this argument. You're clearly guilty," Edward said firmly, standing upright. His stance was rigid, projecting authority, despite the clean sterility of the room.
"Clear in what way, Mr. Edward?" Al asked, raising an eyebrow, stepping slightly closer. Hearing his father respond with apparent indifference made his self-control begin to waver.
"What? You don't even call me father," Edward snapped, voice cutting across the bright, quiet room.
"I don't see you behaving like a father at all. Why should I call you father?" Al shot back, tone calm.
"What did you say…" Edward said in disbelief, his hand tightening on the armrest.
"Don't be rude…" Sarah stepped forward, stance defensive, eyes blazing.
Al stared at them, visibly annoyed.
Outside the room, the maid and bodyguards lingered in the corridor, curious but hesitant, their movements precise and cautious under the bright, even light.
"Huff… forget it," Al sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Forgive me for that. Even if it's just a label, at least you're my parents. And I hope you end this annoying drama. I'm too lazy for this—I just don't want anything bad to happen," he said, trying to calm himself.
"Label?" Sandra frowned, clearly uncomfortable, her fingers brushing lightly over the arm of her chair.
Al nodded slightly, gaze distant for a moment.
"Yup. What else, Mother? Someone said I'm only here because of blood ties, right? So in the end, everything's just a label," he said in a lower tone.
"Anyway, this is my first day back, and I'm already being punished without clear evidence—only with testimonies. You say you want me to stay, but you treat me unjustly. It's… disappointing." Al added.
His shoulders drooping as the weight of frustration sank in.
He then turned toward David.
"And all this, just because of that liar and his ever-loyal servant."
His gaze shifted back to Sandra and Edward.
"As parents, I expected better from you."
David clenched his teeth at being called a liar again, forcing himself to stay silent rather than lash out.
Meanwhile, Edward and Sandra could only feel their pride as parents crumble—trampled by Al's calm yet cutting words.
"Al… are you saying we can't tell right from wrong? When you can't even prove your own innocence? From any angle, anyone would think you did it," Edward said quietly, stepping forward, his expression more hurt than angry.
Al nodded slowly.
"Huff… I understand. If I were in your position, I'd probably think the same. I don't mind if this is still just an accusation. My problem is that you've already decided to punish me," he said, trying to steady his voice.
"I'm not asking you to believe me or stop doubting me right away. I just want things to be done properly. Like I said earlier—investigate first, make everything clear, and then punish me if I'm wrong. It's not like I'm going anywhere."
Edward fell silent for a moment, taken aback.
He knew Al was right, yet somehow… it felt as if he was being taught a lesson. Was Al looking down on him as a father? The thought stung.
"Al… are you trying to teach me how to do things?" Edward asked, this time with a hint of a raised voice.
Al paused, then gave a faint nod.
"It seems that way. But only because I hoped you'd handle things better—before you end up regretting it, and hating yourself for it."
"Whoa! Did you really mean those words? to Dad? How dare you talk down to Dad like that! You don't even respect your parents—you're truly wild!" Aurielle snapped, her voice sharp, eyes locking on him with a pointed glare.
Al turned toward her calmly.
"I didn't know sharing an opinion counts as disrespect. Huff… But if that's how this family thinks—that the father must always be right and unquestionable—then I suppose it'll be difficult for me to fit in here."
"Haah! Of course you wouldn't understand the ethics and manners of the elite. You've never known what it means to be part of a noble family," Sarah said coldly, her tone dripping with disdain.
She turned away with a disgusted scoff, muttering under her breath.
"I guess the orphanage couldn't even teach you properly. Hmph. What else could we expect from a child raised among lowly people?"
Hearing his orphanage being mocked, a wave of discomfort stirred in Al's chest.
And then,
DINGGG!
Al turned and glare at her,
"You'd better retract your words and keep your mouth from mentioning the orphanage I grew up in." Al said angrily, his previously lazy expression instantly turning sharp; this time his emotions began to surge.
The unbearable turmoil of emotions appeared, almost reaching its tipping point. If pushed once more, it could result in something bad.
Sarah slightly stepped back at that gaze; for some reason, her arrogant attitude seemed meaningless. It was as if she had just awakened something dangerous.
David, in the corner, leaned casually against the wall, smirking. Hands in pockets, eyes glittering with excitement at the escalating tension.
Al saw it, David's cynical smile—the true culprit behind this mess—only made it more infuriating.
Al's anger began to rise. The emotions he had been restraining all this time now seemed almost impossible to contain.
Al began to feel unease coil in his chest. Emotions wavered, unstable. Something deep inside sparked, a heat creeping beneath his skin.
He lowered his head. Eyes widened, glassy and shimmering. Red flashes ignited in his irises, a stark contrast to the white, clinical light. The atmosphere seemed to thicken; the silence grew oppressive.
However…
Kill them… Destroy them… Annihilate them…
Dark thoughts surged, invasive and unwelcome.
No! Al whispered inside, gripping his chest. No!
His body tensed and constricted. He lifted one hand to his head, massaging his temples, forcing focus. The red sparks dimmed slightly but lingered faintly, like embers in the clean white room.
Kill them... Kill them...
"Arghhh, stop. I'm human... too," he muttered softly.
Everyone froze, staring at Al. His unusual aura made them hesitate to breathe. The modern space offered no shadows to hide in—only the stark clarity of their surroundings highlighted the tension between them.
"What's wrong with him?" Aurielle whispered.
"Al, what's the matter with you?" Sandra asked, confusion clouding her voice.
She didn't understand why he suddenly snapped at Sarah, only to fall silent afterward. A bad feeling began to stir in her chest.
And then, there was something else—pain. A sharp, stabbing ache deep in her heart, as if something unseen had pierced it.
Edward felt it too. For some reason, his chest tightened, a heaviness pressing down on him.
But Al said nothing. He simply stood, his body tense as if holding back the anger.
And then:
BZZTT!!
Something seemed to shock Al's body, instantly restoring his consciousness,
"Cough… cough…" Al bent forward, clutching his head as dry coughs shook him. The red glow vanished, leaving only a trembling warmth behind.
"Al!" Sandra called out, taking a step toward him.
But Al raised a hand, a silent gesture telling her to stop—to not come any closer.
Sandra froze where she stood, forcing herself to stay still.
Al, meanwhile, was struggling to steady himself.
The room fell into silence for a brief moment.
Slowly, his vision began to clear.
His gaze slowly cleared.
He drew a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Straightening, he looked at his trembling hands. The bright light reflected sharply off the polished floor, highlighting the subtle tremor in his fingers.
Argh… I almost lost it. he thought, closing his eyes for a moment.He could take their insults to himself, but hearing them mock the orphanage made it impossible to stay calm.
Meanwhile, as Al was trying to calm himself, Sarah spoke again.
"Look at him. His behavior's a bit odd. I guess he's putting on an act so he won't be punished. Don't fall for it. Punish him immediately—why is Dedy taking so long?" Sarah muttered, tapping her foot impatiently.
Al's gaze met hers. Irritation flickered, but he forced himself to stay composed.
No one around him understood what had almost occurred. The near eruption of his power, the red flare of his anger—it had passed unnoticed.
Al finally fell silent, drawing a slow, steadying breath. The pulse of his heart returned to normal, the heat within dimming. The room settled back into quiet tension.
What should I do now? My emotions are at a dangerous level.
Al took a slow breath as his thoughts began to calm.
Hmph… even though the punishment doesn't actually affect me, letting it be will only put me at a disadvantage.
He then lifted his head to look at his father.
"Forgive me. But if you insist on punishing me," Al said flatly, his tone calm yet cutting, "then there's nothing left to continue. It's better to end this here than let me suffer an unfair punishment."
He cast a sharp glance at David, a sneer tugging at his lips, before turning back to his father and mother.
"Just take this as a lesson—so your bias won't deceive you again in the future." His voice dripped with irony.
"What do you mean, Al?" Sandra asked, a hint of panic in her tone.
But Al didn't answer immediately. He simply adjusted his posture, lowering his gaze.
"Sorry, but I'm too lazy to deal with such ridiculous drama. I guess I failed to fit in here."
"Al, don't do anything foolish," Edward said cautiously.
Al didn't reply. He only nodded once.
"Thank you for your time."
Then, without another word, he turned to leave.
"Al? What's wrong with you?!" Edward called out.
Sandra covered her mouth, unable to understand—but deep down, she knew Al had just ended that brief meeting in his own way.
Even Aurielle was left speechless.
Sarah, though pleased by the outcome, felt an odd sense of dissatisfaction.
The only one truly delighted was David.
Heh. Just one small push and he's already out. Perfect. Less work for me. Now all that's left is to deal with him outside, he thought smugly.
Al's steps were slow but resolute as he walked away.
I can't waste time on a family that refuses to accept me. Totally incompatible with someone as lazy as I am. Better to focus on Norvalien and Tamarvich—strengthening my people's social ties there instead, he mused.
Huff... I expected too much from my so-called blood family. I thought they'd be the key to helping my people be accepted in this world. Guess I was wrong.
But his steps halted just as he neared the door.
A sudden sound—no, a presence—shifted the energy in the room.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the hall, and the once noisy space fell silent. The air froze; even the servants held their breath. Sarah, usually brimming with confidence, suddenly looked uneasy.
The main door opened wide.
A massive man stepped in. Just like the rumors said—over two meters tall, his bald head glinting beneath the chandelier.
His dark brown skin gleamed like forged steel, his muscles bulging beneath the black uniform reserved for the Virellano family's elite guards. His eyes—cold gray—carried no trace of warmth.
He was Dedy.
Dedy wasn't just a guard. He was a former international bodybuilder and martial artist who once fought in underground arenas across Malaya. In one-on-one combat, few could last more than three minutes against him.
Each of his steps was slow, heavy, deliberate.
Who is this guy? Al thought, tilting his head up to meet the man's gaze.
Don't tell me they plan to punish me with him? He sighed inwardly.
Ridiculous. The accusations are nonsense, and now the punishment too?
Dedy looked down at him, expressionless. Without saying a word, he motioned lightly for Al to step aside.
But Al moved first, shifting to the side on his own.
Dedy blinked in mild surprise but didn't comment. Standing tall, he raised a fist to his chest in a formal salute.
"Dedy, awaiting your orders, Master Edward," he said, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder.
Edward hesitated, unsure how to respond—but before he could speak, Al's sharp voice cut in.
"Hey, giant. Mind moving aside? I'm trying to leave," Al said irritably, his tone mocking.
The rude remark left everyone stunned.
Did he just talk like that—to Dedy? Is he not afraid? they all thought, disbelief spreading across their faces.
But Al seemed completely unfazed.
So did Dedy, who merely glanced at him once before remaining still and silent.
"Hey, didn't you hear me?" Al repeated, his irritation growing.
Still, Dedy gave no reaction.
Edward and Sandra rushed over—though David, of course, chose to stroll leisurely, enjoying the show.
"Al... Dedy," Edward called, trying to defuse the tension.
Sandra, however, focused only on Al. "Al..." she said softly, discomfort lacing her voice.
Both Al and Dedy turned toward them.
Al sighed and spoke lazily, "Can you tell him to move? It's already late. Before the buses stop running, I should get going."
"Where are you even planning to go, Al?" Sandra asked.
"Hmph. My real home, of course—the orphanage," he replied.
"Anyway… weren't my words clear enough? Rather than get dragged into this stupid family drama, I'd rather end everything here and now. Let's just pretend we never knew each other." he added.
"Who said we're allowing you to leave?" Edward replied sternly.
"Huh? Why would I need your permission?" Al asked, confused.
"What do you mean? Of course you do. I'm your father—you can't just do as you please."
"Ugh... enough already," Al muttered. "Don't call yourselves my family when you act like this. I've made up my mind. I'm leaving. Let's not bother each other again."
He moved toward the doorway—but before he could pass, Dedy's massive hand caught his arm, holding him still.
"Young man," Dedy said firmly, his voice heavy with authority, "Master Edward is speaking. Show some respect."
Al didn't flinch. His irritation only deepened.
"You dare touch me?" he said coldly.
Their eyes locked—both radiating the desire to intimidate the other.
Edward stepped forward quickly. "Al, please, don't make this worse. Stop talking about leaving—no one's going anywhere. The truth is, I'm your father. You can't run from that."
Al turned, a faint, bitter smile on his face.
"I'm not leaving because I reject that truth," he said quietly. "I'm leaving because I'm too tired to deal with stupidity."
His voice softened, almost weary. "So stop wasting my time. There are better things I can do out there... than stand here being a punching bag for some lying brat's game."
He glanced sideways at David, his eyes narrowing with disdain.
David merely turned his head away, pretending not to hear the accusation. Still, a faint, satisfied smile curved on his lips — he was more than pleased with the chaos that had unfolded.
Sandra moved closer and gently took Al's hand.
The touch made something strange stir inside him.
"Al… please, don't be like this, dear," she said softly.
Everyone watched him, waiting for his response. But Al said nothing. He was too tired — too disgusted to even speak.
Sarah, unwilling to let the calm settle, smirked and spoke again.
"Look at him, putting on an act — pretending to storm off just so we'll beg him to stay. Hah, what a green tea boy."
"Sarah!" Edward snapped.
"Hmph," she muttered, turning away.
"Fine, fine. I'll stop. But if he's really leaving, don't forget he still deserves punishment. Harassing a maid isn't something to overlook — whether he stays or not."
Her words made Dedy's eyes flicker with realization. He lowered his head slightly toward Edward.
"Master," he said, his tone hard, "don't tell me I was summoned here to punish this boy for harassing a maid?"
A trace of irritation, rare for him, slipped into his usually emotionless expression.
Edward hesitated. "Well… that was the case. But—"
He didn't get to finish. Dedy's face darkened.
"So it's true," he growled. "Then this boy really does deserve punishment."
Without waiting for orders, Dedy's grip on Al's wrist tightened.
David's eyes lit up. He was practically glowing with excitement — not only was Al about to leave, but now he'd get beaten too.
Perfect, he thought gleefully.
Edward and Sandra froze, too startled to intervene before Dedy moved.
Al's gaze sharpened the moment he sensed the hostility.
Idiot. A slow move like that won't work if your target actually knows how to fight, he thought.
He twisted his wrist lightly — and broke free with ease, stepping back a little.
Dedy blinked, surprised, but pressed on. His other hand shot forward, fast enough to grab the edge of Al's shirt.
GRAB!
With a sharp pull, he yanked — hard.
"Al!" Sandra cried, panic flooding her voice.
Thankfully, Al's body didn't budge. His shirt, however, tore loose under Dedy's strength.
"Dedy, stop!" Edward's voice rang out.
Dedy stopped immediately.
Not because of Edward's command, but because his eyes — and everyone else's — were suddenly drawn to something else entirely.
Silence fell.
Shock swept through the room like a cold wave.
Even Sarah, who had been ready to mock him again, went pale. The maids gasped, covering their mouths in horror.
Edward and David both stood stunned.
What they saw wasn't the lean body of a seventeen-year-old boy.
It was a body covered in scars — brutal, unending scars. Old wounds, fresh gashes, long cuts from blades, bruises layered upon bruises. His skin was a map of torment.
"A-Al… your… your body…" Sandra's voice broke as she rushed forward.
"Al… what happened to you?" she whispered, her face drained of color. She looked as though she might collapse, but her motherly instinct kept her standing.
Sandra's knees nearly buckled as her breath hitched — she'd never seen pain carved so deeply into flesh
Al glanced around the room, saying nothing at first. Then he turned toward Dedy, irritation flashing in his eyes.
"Tch… you people really went overboard," he muttered, snatching his shirt back and slipping it on again.
He fastened it lazily, then looked up. "So? Is that still not enough? Do you still plan to punish me?"
All eyes turned toward Edward.
Edward's lips parted, but no words came out.
He couldn't comprehend it. For someone like him, even a small wound was already terrifying— let alone having to endure that many, and that deep.
His gaze shifted toward Sarah — the one who'd been urging for punishment all along.
But Sarah averted her eyes, for once speechless. Even she knew — after seeing that — punishment would be inhuman.
Edward looked next to David, who seemed just as shaken, then to the maid at the center of it all. She stood frozen, eyes down, refusing to look at anyone.
Sandra, seeing her husband's silence, stepped forward angrily.
"Edward! Do you still have the heart to punish him after seeing that?"
Edward let out a long breath and shook his head.
"Of course... not."
He turned toward Dedy.
"Dedy, I know how much you hate cases like this. But from now on, control your impulses. Return to your post — there'll be no punishment. In fact, there shouldn't have been one to begin with."
Dedy hesitated but eventually nodded.
"Understood, Master," he said, his voice lower than before, and turned to leave.
Meanwhile, David clenched his jaw, frustration flaring.
So it failed… No punishment, just because he's covered in scars? Tch… this is ridiculous. But fine. There's nothing I can do for now.
Edward then faced Al.
"Al… can we talk this through?" he asked carefully.
Al stared at him for a moment — longer than before.
"…And what exactly is there to talk about?" he replied quietly.
Edward fell silent for a moment, scanning the room.
"Huff… join us for dinner first. Then we'll talk afterward, okay?" he said.
"If in the end you still want to leave, I won't stop you. But at least let's talk it through first."
This time his words sounded sincere. Al felt it, and fell quiet as well.
Hmph... I guess that's not so bad. At least I'm no longer at a disadvantage and I have choices about my own life, he thought.
He nodded.
"All right," he said curtly.
Relief washed over Edward's face — Sandra too looked calmer.
Sandra quickly stepped toward Al.
"Al, are you truly alright?" she asked, reaching out as if to touch his arm.
Al stepped back a little and lowered his head — not out of rejection, but as if to say they weren't close enough for that kind of affection yet.
"I'm okay, Ma'am," he answered softly. No flamboyance, no theatrics — just a quiet sincerity that made Sandra's eyes sting with tears.
Meanwhile David stood rigid for a moment, then closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.
Why did it all fail? he thought, scowling inwardly.
Hmph… relax. This is only the beginning. I'll get rid of him — sooner or later.
---
After the heated argument in the family room, the atmosphere began to cool as Edward raised his hand to signal the conversation was over. He rubbed his tired face and spoke with a heavy voice:
"All right. We'll continue this after dinner. For now, let's sit down together."
Silence held for a beat. Then people slowly moved, preparing to change clothes and head to the dining hall. Al followed, walking with calm steps and an unreadable face, still wondering why David and that servant had framed him.
But what awaited at the dinner table would prove one thing—
Al had not truly been accepted into this family.
---