Chapter 12.7
There had been minor incidents where people caught on and reacted with words like creepy, disgusting, or repulsive, but in the end, Woojin was mostly just seen as cold, aloof, or a bit ruthless—well enough to blend in with the general public. Very few people ever saw through him.
There were some who knew by instinct. Like someone had once said in his childhood, calling him a snake, or like his father, who called him a monster.
His father regarded him as the spawn of evil—someone fundamentally rotten in deed. A monster.
Woojin, who divided things into rational and irrational, into good and bad, liked and disliked—felt true aversion only in two situations: when someone labeled him a monster, and when he himself started to doubt his own nature.
What if I really am a monster?
Woojin’s entire life could be summed up as a constant effort to prove he was not a monster. He knew he was a little obsessed with that.
Especially in front of his mother, he was extra cautious. The hatred from his father and brothers was more than enough. His mother was the only one who had ever dealt with him with persistent affection.
As far as Woojin was concerned, there was nothing wrong with him. He was not different from others.
All life is about battling oneself, about overcoming what lies within. It was the same for Woojin. His life had been a string of battles with himself—many of which he had already overcome and proven.
Woojin was not antisocial. He was not some psychopath, as people liked to say.
That’s why he was hypersensitive when someone tried to classify him that way—and recently, he’d been furious because of Lee Taeshin. Thankfully, Taeshin had taken care of things himself, so Woojin hadn’t needed to take action.
"This is good. Really suits my taste."