UR Chapter 127

Chapter 127

In front of the entrance to Gangwol Mountain stood a tall building with the letters KAPS displayed on it. Before Beom-ho, still carrying I-bom in his arms, could even reach the entrance, a group of men and women in suits came streaming out in a rush.

“Oh, President! Ah, hello, sir!”

Screech—

Through the gap between the bowing employees, a shiny black sedan rolled to a stop. From the driver’s seat, which had been lightly opened, a young man wearing glasses stepped out.

“Good day, President. Hello, I-bom.”

The man gave a faint smile as he greeted them, then casually handed two sets of keys to Beom-ho.

“Here are the keys. I’ve prepared everything you might need right away, so you can use them immediately.”

“Good work.”

Nodding slightly, Beom-ho accepted the keys from him. I-bom, not understanding what was going on, blinked as he glanced between the man and Beom-ho.

“Ah, allow me to properly introduce myself. I’m Eun Sung-jun, the president’s executive secretary. You’re Kang I-bom, correct?”

“Uh… hello.”

Shifting awkwardly, I-bom finally managed to step down from Beom-ho’s arms. He had seen the man once before, briefly, at Beom-ho’s home. At the time, he’d been too distracted to remember clearly, but the man seemed to know him well.

“I’m going to head out for the day, so finish things up for me, Sung-jun.”

With a smile, Beom-ho neatly cut off the exchange between them, then quickly opened the passenger door and gestured for I-bom to get in.

* * *

“…….”

Click.

As soon as I-bom fastened his seat belt, Eun Beom-ho took the wheel and turned it smoothly. Hugging his bag close, I-bom fidgeted with it, stealing quick glances at Beom-ho’s faintly smiling profile.

Once his emotions had settled, his thoughts began to churn. On the way here, Beom-ho hadn’t asked him exactly what had happened. Even after I-bom had cried so hard, he had only comforted him. When he said he’d run away from home, all Beom-ho had replied with was, “I see.”

Beom-ho spoke to him in a warm tone.

“First, let’s go straight home. You must be cold and hungry after coming down from the mountain. A hot bath and a good meal will make you feel better.”

Then his eyes flicked to I-bom’s black backpack.

“That’s not much luggage… If there’s more you need to bring, tell me. I’ll send someone to get it for you.”

“Aren’t you… going to ask if I really left home for good?”

I-bom swallowed and spoke carefully.

“Do you want me to ask?”

With the hand not on the wheel, he gripped I-bom’s frozen fingers tightly, as if unwilling to let go again.

“The truth is, I actually went to your house. I was worried something might’ve happened when I couldn’t reach you.”

“Oh…”

The tips of I-bom’s ears burned red. If he’d gone there, he must have met his grandmother. Which meant he’d probably heard something bad from her… The thought alone made I-bom clutch his bag tighter, unable to lift his head.

“Then… did Grandma… say something bad to you?”

His lips were dry and cracked. He didn’t want Beom-ho to hear the ugly parts of his life. Just imagining what his angry grandmother might have said to him made his stomach twist. It was enough that he alone had to hear her cruel words.

‘That boy’s not my grandson!’

In front of Beom-ho, who had come looking for I-bom, the old woman shouted, her voice trembling with fury. Beom-ho slowly set down the gift bag he was holding before lifting his head again. As the two drew closer, Sung-jun quickly stepped in between, alarmed. If Beom-ho got angry and let his aura flare, it would be bad for the already frail-looking elder.

Beom-ho, his gaze fixed calmly on the old woman, spoke in a level tone.

‘Ma’am, that’s far too harsh. If I-bom isn’t your blood grandson, isn’t that even more admirable? From what I know, he’s done every kind of work there is to take care of his family.’

‘What’s so admirable about that? If we’ve fed and clothed him, of course he should!’

‘So duty is expected, but causing harm with your words is fine? Is that it?’

Tilting his head slightly, Beom-ho studied her. From the start, a mountain god could never fully grasp the twisted complexity of human emotions—the way people could ruin everything out of warped obsession or inferiority, even without personal gain. Such things were beyond his understanding.

In the end, the only person Eun Beom-ho could truly understand was Kang I-bom.

‘Harm or not, I’m telling you, that boy isn’t my grandson! You’ve clearly been bewitched by him—’

‘Hey now, don’t say things like that! You’ll hurt him. He just left here crying, saying he doesn’t want to live in this house anymore…’

‘He’s run off before! Born a mutt, brought home by his mother to be a nuisance, then following strangers for cotton candy and turning his parents upside down! Let him go, I say, let him run away if he wants!’

‘That wasn’t running away, and you know it! That was I-jun loosening his leash and abandoning him!’

Beside the grandmother, another elderly man held her back awkwardly, muttering in protest. The contrast between his frown of distress and her anger was stark. Watching him, Beom-ho seemed to realize something and nodded to himself.

“I-bom, let me tell you a story,” Beom-ho said now, his eyes still on the road.

“Once, there was a young tiger beastman—sharp-tempered and sensitive. One day, while visiting his family’s amusement park, he found a puppy. A very, very white, fluffy puppy.”

“…Okay.”

I-bom nodded, blinking. He had heard before about how Beom-ho once picked up a puppy, so the story was familiar.

“The puppy caught my eye because it was there alone, jumping toward the sky over and over, tongue sticking out. I asked what it was doing, and it said it wanted cotton candy. I laughed and asked, ‘Do you want to come to my house?’”

“….”

While Beom-ho smiled, I-bom’s blinking quickened. Something about this felt too familiar—like something he’d heard somewhere before. Maybe in a dream… or perhaps he was just mistaking the story Madam Baek had told at the resort for something of his own.

“So I brought it home, but the house was in chaos. You see, pureblood tiger beastmen, though born with the blessing of a mountain god’s womb, have such strong energy that it can be harmful—almost poisonous—to ordinary people or weaker beastmen. Old sayings claim that those who wish to block this influence use a white dog. Its pure energy suppresses and cleanses the tiger’s aura.”

“….”

“But it’s different with a young puppy. For one so small, purifying a tiger’s powerful energy can be too much, even harmful to its body. And it can rebound on the tiger as karmic retribution. That’s why tiger beastman families traditionally never raise young puppies.”

The car moved steadily away from the city, lights growing dimmer in the distance.

“I liked that puppy. Even though the elders said we had to send it back, I ignored them. I planned to keep it in my room—fed it, gave it treats, slept beside it. Then one day, I woke up and it was gone. I thought I’d lost my dog and cried for ages…”

“…Beom-ho.”

“Later, I learned the elders had sent it back home. And the bigger surprise? It wasn’t a real dog, but a dog beastman. Born as a mutant in a half-beastman family with faint aura, but unlike others, it was born in full animal form. Because of that, it was shunned. It hadn’t come to the amusement park to play—it had been abandoned there by its family to get rid of it.”

“….”

I-bom’s expression darkened. Mutant. Dog beastman. White puppy. Cotton candy. Family. The story wasn’t a coincidence—it was his own. His lower lip began to tremble.

“My memory’s not perfect—it was long ago. My grandmother told me our family erased the boy’s memories of me and our time together. Erasing memories comes with serious side effects. Especially memories of a person—sometimes, even if you meet again, only the memories of meeting them are intact, and nothing else. But if you still find yourself drawn to them…”

Memories…

Fragments of his own erased childhood surfaced. Leaping through fields, licking his lips at the cotton candy floating before him, his mother smiling and holding him close. Yet the part where he’d followed someone for cotton candy was strangely blurred.

“That’s fate. My grandmother said there’s no such thing as coincidence in any meeting. If your heart goes to someone and you fall in love, it’s because you’re meant to be. So you don’t have to be sad about parting from them.”

“….”

“If you wish it, you’ll meet again someday, in any form.”

Beom-ho lowered his gaze.

“And here we are, meeting again for real.”

Screech.

He stopped the car. In the glare of the headlights, small gnats swarmed. At first it seemed like there was nothing around—but right in front of them stood a familiar building he’d visited before. Guhoche. Beom-ho’s home.

He reached out and cupped I-bom’s cheek. Whether it was the warmth of his palm or something else, hot tears spilled down I-bom’s face, making his large eyes shimmer. He said nothing.

“You called it running away, but… don’t go back there. Ever.”

“….”

“I’ll stand by you. I’ll be your family.”

He whispered softly, brushing away I-bom’s tears with his fingertips, the heat in his touch easing the weight of his sorrow.