It had been a meeting full of noise and trouble, but somehow, it ended on a better note than expected.
With his mother’s nagging—“Try to keep it going a little longer this time”—still ringing in his ears, Kim Soo-hyun set off for home with Gehenna.
But instead of heading straight back, he changed course toward the daycare center.
The timing was about right—the time they left the restaurant and the daycare’s closing time roughly matched—so he decided to stop by on the way.
Holding tightly to the hands of his two daughters as they hurried out, Soo-hyun figured, since they were out anyway, why not swing by the supermarket too?
They weren’t exactly out of groceries, but shopping with his wife and daughters was a small pleasure.
After wandering through various aisles picking up what they needed, Soo-hyun pushed the cart toward the checkout.
If he finished paying and went home now, today would probably end without incident.
But the real trouble came at the very end.
More precisely, it happened while he was unloading items from the cart onto the conveyor belt.
“Huh.”
Snacks, candies, ice cream, chocolates—hidden here and there in the cart were all sorts of treats.
Of course, Soo-hyun had no memory of putting any of them in.
“…”
His eyes flashed with disbelief as he glanced sideways.
Below, Soona’s profile was utterly indifferent.
She stared blankly into the distance, as if looking at nothing in particular.
Meanwhile, Mar looked visibly anxious.
When their eyes met, she hiccupped nervously, unsure what to do.
Her small lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she lowered her head, on the verge of tears.
“Haha… huh?”
Soo-hyun’s casual smile suddenly froze as his eyes widened.
Soona was secretly stepping on Mar’s left foot with her right.
And every time Mar tried to speak, Soona pressed down harder.
Mar hadn’t been trying to cry for no reason.
Even though it was obvious, Soona kept pretending nothing was going on.
Soo-hyun’s eyebrows twitched.
Evening.
“I really don’t know.”
Ansol sat on the terrace, the city lights sprawling below, deep in a phone call.
“Are you suspecting something? But you said it didn’t make sense.”
Yet his face looked far from pleased.
“I don’t want to meet them. Not at all.”
Fanning himself with his hand, he seemed suffocated by frustration throughout the call.
“I told you, I’m usually pretty lucky. And honestly, I don’t know anything. I just had some extra pocket money, so I went with my gut…”
How much time had passed?
After ending the call, Ansol let out a long breath.
His face was etched with irritation, as if the words “I’m so unfairly treated” were written in bold.
It was a rare expression for him.
A creaking noise came from behind.
Ansol, who had been sighing heavily, turned instinctively.
Vivian was sinking into a chair, tilting her head back.
“Unni?”
“Uh…”
Vivian raised her hand slightly, then lowered it.
“What are you doing here at this hour?”
“I just finished broadcasting…”
“Already?”
“I stayed up all night yesterday…”
Her voice was thick with exhaustion.
Well, staying up all night for a broadcast was nothing new, so Ansol quickly understood.
Still leaning back, Vivian spoke again.
“Who were you just talking to? That call went on forever.”
“Some financial supervisory authority, I think?”
“Financial supervisory authority?”
“It’s a government agency… They said my income doesn’t add up.”
“Did you go to a casino again?”
“No! I didn’t! I’m banned from casinos!”
Ansol shook his head in shock.
“Then why would they call you? Sounds like a sketchy place.”
“I don’t know. I just started trading stocks, and this is what happened.”
“Stocks? You do stocks too?”
“Yeah. Maybe for a month or two? I heard you could make a lot of money if you’re good, so I tried.”
“Is it going well?”
“No idea. Every time I get in, it’s all triple threes and double pulls or whatever—I don’t even understand the terms…”
Ansol scratched his head.
Of course, Vivian knew just as little about stocks as he did.
“How much did you invest at first?”
“Eight thousand won.”
“How much have you made?”
“Eight hundred million won.”
Vivian finally lowered her chin and looked at Ansol.
Then, as if disgusted, she added,
“That’s amazing. What are you going to do with all that money?”
“Well, brother’s birthday is coming up. I thought I’d casually prepare about a billion won.”
Ansol smiled.
“Oh, a birthday.”
Vivian replied flatly and flopped onto the table.
“How’s your broadcast going these days? Doing well?”
“…No. Especially not today.”
“Why?”
“Because of those damn snipers.”
Her voice trembled with quiet anger.
Ansol nodded, vaguely understanding.
He’d seen Vivian cry a few times before.
“There are so many weird people. Why do they have to disrupt the broadcast by sniping like that…”
“I don’t know either. But in a way, it’s my fault.”
Was that unexpected?
Ansol blinked as he tried to comfort her.
“It’s frustrating that snipers are everywhere, but if I keep getting hit, it’s because I’m not good enough. And as a public figure, I have to accept some of it… I get that much.”
“But…”
“If I get better, the sniping will decrease. So since yesterday, I’ve been focusing on improving my skills and doing the broadcast at the same time. But…”
“But?”
After a brief silence, her stiff shoulders slumped.
“Most viewers say it’s boring.”
“Really?”
Today’s viewer response was indeed poor.
Even though it was a gaming and mukbang channel, the core appeal of ‘Genius Alchemist’ was Vivian’s character.
Viewers enjoyed watching her react honestly—celebrating wins, swallowing tears after crushing defeats.
But focusing solely on improving skills without any reaction made the broadcast dull, and popularity naturally dropped.
“Actually, today there were fewer snipers and my performance was pretty good… but I guess viewers don’t like it when I play well.”
Vivian muttered, looking deflated.
“No way. Maybe it’s just a bit boring because you don’t react and only play? Watching someone else play can get dull.”
“Maybe? Still, I want to crush those snipers’ arrogance!”
“No, you shouldn’t give up the skill-focused segment. You just need to tweak it to fit your style.”
“How?”
“Simple penalties, maybe? Like, every time you die in the game, you get a slap on the palm.”
“Penalties? You want me to get hit?”
Vivian snapped sharply.
Her pride made it hard to accept.
Besides, she genuinely didn’t want to gain popularity through bizarre antics.
“Or push-ups would work too. That way, viewers can enjoy the gameplay and look forward to the results.”
“Uh… hmm.”
Her sharp edge softened a little.
It was worth trying.
Thinking it over, Ansol’s advice wasn’t wrong.
She’d felt the broadcast was dull today too.
If she wasn’t excited, viewers wouldn’t be either.
The conclusion: something needed to change.
Something strong and fresh to breathe new life into her world.
Just then.
From afar came the sound of the front door opening, followed by raised voices.
The two women glanced at each other and quickly stood.
“Are you going to keep acting like this?”
The two who had been rushing stopped instinctively.
At the entrance stood two men and two little girls just coming in.
Kim Soo-hyun’s face was furious.
Soona, on the other hand, was holding back tears, sniffling as if deeply hurt.
What had happened?
“Won’t you apologize to Mar?”
“No! Never!”
Soo-hyun tried again, but Soona’s reaction was far more intense than necessary.
It was like watching a volcano about to erupt.
“Soona?”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up! Shut up because you’re annoying! You stupid idiot!”
“Hey, what kind of language is that for your dad?”
“Dad? Ha. What a wimp.”
Even Soo-hyun, who usually kept his cool, was losing patience; a faint edge of anger appeared on his face.
“Enough.”
“Whatever. What are you going to do if I don’t?”
In the next moment, Soo-hyun scooped Soona up.
“You little—!”
Before he could react, Soona swung her chubby hand hard against his behind.
It was lightning fast.
Smack!
The sharp sound echoed.
At that moment—
“Ow!”
Soona squeezed her eyes shut.
“!”
For some reason, Vivian, who had been watching blankly, flinched as if shocked.
Like someone who’d just been electrocuted.