Hong Yeonhwa looked around, taking in her surroundings with a sense of novelty.

The long corridor was carpeted with a bright red rug, lined with countless doors on either side, adorned with artwork and sculptures. Beyond the windows, rather than a garden, it looked more like an expansive field or forest, with grand buildings rising beyond the park.

As she walked, she took in the architecture, the deference and hospitality from the household staff, who greeted her with respect and familiarity.

This was the main residence of the Geomhwa family.

It was where she had spent most of her life.

Hong Yeonhwa had been born here, and due to the unique nature of her powers, she had always remained in the innermost, heavily protected areas of the main residence.

Even after she gained control over her powers and started going out, she still spent most of her time at the main house. It was fair to say she had spent nearly her entire life here.

As she gazed around, she felt a wave of familiarity but also a peculiar sense of nostalgia. It was something close to a sense of fondness, despite having only been away for a few months. Her time at Shio-ram had been so intense that the past few months felt denser than all the time she had spent at home.

Even though her experiences at home had been significant, her recent memories were far more vivid. Especially in the past few weeks… she had felt emotions so intense they were almost overwhelming.

“Ah.”

As she walked through the corridor, lost in thought, Hong Yeonhwa suddenly stopped and turned to Ariel, who was following behind her.

“Where’s Mom?”

“She’s handling her morning schedule in the office,” Ariel replied.

“Can I go see her now?”

“Yes, I anticipated this and made arrangements beforehand.”

“Thanks.”

Being back for the first time in a while, she had almost forgotten the protocol. Thankfully, Ariel’s foresight saved her from any hassle.

She continued walking, making her way upstairs. As they approached a particularly ornate door, Ariel, who had been following a few steps behind, moved ahead to knock on the door.

Knock, knock.

“Mistress, the young lady has arrived,” Ariel announced.

“Come in.”

The response came almost immediately. Ariel opened the door with practiced care, stepping aside and bowing as Hong Yeonhwa entered.

She had always thought these formalities were a bit much, but she stepped inside, taking in the sight of her mother’s office.

The first thing she noticed was a large wooden desk made from an ancient tree, buried under piles of papers—what looked almost like a small mountain range of documents, rather than just a stack.

The woman behind the paperwork looked up, her dark brown eyes, nearly hidden under a cascade of black hair, showing the weary glint of someone who hadn’t rested in too long.

“Oh, you’re here? It’s rare to see my daughter’s face.”

Choi Jiyeon.

She was the wife of the current head of the Geomhwa family and held the important position of Chief Administrator. More than that, she was Hong Yeonhwa’s mother.

“…What is all this?” Hong Yeonhwa asked, eyeing the mountain of papers with a look of concern rather than joy at their reunion. Though she was happy to see her mother, she couldn’t ignore the weariness etched on her face and the overwhelming stacks of paper.

“What do you think? It’s just a pile of work,” Choi Jiyeon replied, pressing her fingers to her temples. The shadows under her eyes spoke volumes about her fatigue.

Hong Yeonhwa could see it all too clearly and briefly debated whether she should set up a makeshift bed for her mother on the spot.

“I don’t remember there being this much work before. And what’s with the paper? I thought everything was kept on holographic files now?”

“When tasks start piling up, they tend to accumulate like this. Also, for security reasons, a lot of documents still need to be on paper.”

Her mother’s tone was matter-of-fact, carrying an undercurrent of exhaustion.

As Hong Yeonhwa’s concerns drifted more toward setting up a makeshift bed, her mother suddenly narrowed her eyes and fixed her with a stare.

“Besides, didn’t I explain this to you? Personally, several times?”

Hong Yeonhwa was the heir to the Geomhwa family, a prominent figure in the world. She had received extensive education to prepare her for her future role, including lessons on running the family’s affairs, all taught directly by Choi Jiyeon herself.

“Ugh, how am I supposed to remember all that? Just keeping up with Shio-ram theory studies is enough to split my head open…”

Choi Jiyeon was taken aback by her daughter’s flippant response, rubbing her forehead. Hong Yeonhwa’s father, the current head of the family, wasn’t much different—constantly evading paperwork and taking forever to complete any task he couldn’t avoid, leaving Jiyeon to pick up the slack.

Even though other family members helped out, all major decisions ultimately fell on Jiyeon. She had hoped that at least her daughter would lighten that burden someday. Yet, seeing Hong Yeonhwa’s response now was disheartening.

“Why don’t you just keep extending your term as Chief Administrator—”

“What kind of nonsense are you spouting?! Do you want to work me to death?”

“Why are you cursing out of nowhere?” Hong Yeonhwa asked, bewildered.

“Because you want to keep pushing me, even though I’m already exhausted,” Jiyeon replied, grabbing the back of her neck as though warding off a headache.

“Just sit down,” she finally said, massaging her neck.

Hong Yeonhwa obediently sat on a sofa, while Ariel began preparing tea.

As Jiyeon settled into the sofa opposite, she felt a wave of relief. Although the office chair was technically more comfortable, not having to look at the mountains of paperwork was enough to bring her some peace.

“So, why are you here?”

“Didn’t I tell you?”

“Well, I got the message, but I wanted to make sure. There could have been a mix-up…”

Jiyeon eyed her daughter over the rim of her teacup, taking a sip of the warm tea and letting its soothing fragrance ease her headache.

“You said you’re bringing your boyfriend home over the break. Moving pretty fast, aren’t you?”

“Why does it sound like that when you say it?” Hong Yeonhwa retorted, annoyed. She had heard the term “boyfriend” enough times that it was almost starting to feel familiar, though her reaction was less explosive than before.

“Well then, should I refer to him as a potential family member?”

“That’s why I’m bringing him over—to figure that out.”

Remembering the name in the message, Jiyeon felt the headache return.

Lee Hayul.

A special admissions student with no precedent. The young hero of Shipnaha. A man her daughter was surprisingly protective of.

And, more importantly… a potential inheritor of the Geomhwa’s powers.

She stifled a sigh. Among the stacks of documents on her desk, over twenty percent were related to gathering information on Lee Hayul.

Jiyeon glanced at Hong Yeonhwa, noting the tension in her expression. Clearly, Yeonhwa understood the significance of the situation.

“To be brief, we couldn’t find anything about Lee Hayul’s family.”

“Not even you could?” Hong Yeonhwa’s eyes widened in surprise.

Jiyeon wasn’t sure whether to be flattered by her daughter’s confidence or saddened by the fact that she thought of her mother as some information-retrieving machine.

“I’ve been digging into it since you mentioned it, but even with every resource at my disposal, there’s nothing. Not a single trace.”

The records for Lee Hayul began with him being found as an abandoned infant at an orphanage. The orphanage director said he had been found lying on the ground, without even a blanket, and hadn’t made a sound.

Beyond that? No clues whatsoever. It was just a blank slate, with not even a scrap of information to trace. She suspected that even with DNA tests, finding his parents would be near impossible.

He might not even be registered in any database… and it was hard to imagine someone that unregistered being a part of the Geomhwa family.

Hong Yeonhwa’s face grew troubled. No doubt she sensed something was off, but Jiyeon felt the same way. However, there was no way to dig deeper.

Even if Lee Hayul himself came to help, she doubted they’d make much progress.

“More importantly,” Jiyeon continued, brushing the matter aside. There was no point in getting stuck on something unsolvable.

It was the world post-Cataclysm, after all. Common sense could only be counted on so much.

No one had expected the Cataclysm itself, or that magic and monsters would become reality, or that towers would suddenly appear in the skies over Africa’s labyrinthine jungles.

“So, how’s your love life going?” Jiyeon asked, raising a topic they could actually discuss.

She had no idea if Hayul would become a part of the family. But she knew it was a possibility.

Normally, changing one’s surname after marriage was rare, but some prestigious families still preferred it.

“What the hell—no! What do you even mean by that?” Hong Yeonhwa’s reaction was immediate, her eyes widening in shock.

“Oh, so something did happen, huh?”

“What? What? Nothing happened, okay? Stop making things up.”

“Seems like the young lady might have made a small blunder and upset Mr. Lee,” Ariel added with a knowing smile.

“Hey!”

Hong Yeonhwa shouted, but Jiyeon simply clicked her tongue, unbothered by her daughter’s frustration.

“So, what did you do? Confess to your mom,” Jiyeon urged.

“There’s nothing to confess…”

“Counselors exist for a reason, you know? Talking things out can lead to good answers,” Jiyeon said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, my lady. Sometimes sharing your worries can help more than keeping them to yourself,” Ariel chimed in, clearly acting on a signal from Jiyeon.

Hong Yeonhwa’s defenses began to falter under the combined attack.

Though she tried to resist, her mother and childhood friend/bodyguard had always been by her side, so it was only natural that her resolve began to waver.

She was clueless about romance, after all, so it made sense that she was getting flustered.

Her eyes darted around, searching for a way out, before she reluctantly spoke.

“Hayul greeted me, but… I, um, ran away.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jiyeon exploded with a string of expletives, while Ariel’s silent look of disappointment made Hong Yeonhwa shrink back.

“…Why?” Jiyeon pressed, rubbing her forehead.

Hong Yeonhwa’s lips shut tight. Though her defenses had been weak before, now they were nearly impenetrable. Jiyeon’s eyes narrowed, realizing there was indeed a reason behind it.

She waited, sensing that her daughter would eventually explain.

Finally, after a pause, Hong Yeonhwa opened her mouth.

“I… I thought I might, um…”

“It’s hard for even a superhuman to understand when you mumble,” Jiyeon remarked dryly.

“I thought I might, um… jump him.”

“…Huh?”

“...?”

Did I hear that right?