The hospital hadn't changed much since my last visit. Not that I expected it to, given the relatively short span of ti I had been away.
The usual mix of people, so dealing with illnesses, others victims of accidents. It was a sad reminder of life's fragility. Just being here, in a place like this, felt like a luxury for those who have money—one that ca with a hefty price tag.
"I'm here to see a patient," I inford the reception desk, providing Yae's full na.
I got the info from one of my employees that Yae had been relocated to a different room after waking up.
he staff at the front desk swiftly passed the room number, and I headed straight for the second floor.
Navigating through the hospital corridors, I finally reached the far end and located Yae's room.
To my surprise, she wasn't alone; there were four people with her. Two adults, likely in their middle age, and two young girls, no older than twelve, were present.
Naturally, my abrupt entrance caught everyone off guard, and their gaze turned toward with expressions of shock. It wasn't so much the fact that I barged into the room but rather because they did not expected soone of my status to co here.
"What a handso Oppa!" chirped one of the girls, her eyes lighting up as she examined closely. There was a discernible resemblance between her features and Yae's, as if so shared familial traits manifested in their faces.
"And you are?" questioned the middle-aged man, his eyes appraising from head to toe.
Decked out in expensive clothing and accessories, coupled with my handso deanor, I must have given off the vibe of a rich tycoon with too much money to burn.
"I'm her boyfriend," I responded with a smile, my gaze shifting toward Yae, who was still peacefully asleep.
Her complexion had noticeably improved, and the visible relief in her condition was a weight off my shoulders. Despite any perception others might have of as an evil individual, when it ca to those I cared about, my protective instincts kicked in full force .
The middle-aged man paused, caught in a mont of contemplation as he observed my affectionate gaze towards Yae. It was as if he was grappling with thoughts, perhaps pondering sothing he wanted to express.
However, the aura of my presence, coupled with my perfection and flawlessness, appeared to suppress any words that might have been on the tip of his tongue.
The middle-aged woman broke the silence, gratitude evident in her words.
"Thank you for saving our daughter," she expressed, bowing her head in a gesture of sincere appreciation.
"It was my responsibility," I replied with a simple nod.
"Did she get the best treatnt ?" I asked.
"Yes, the doctors and the nurses here really took good care of her," Yae's mother responded.
I began to scan the room, and my eyes landed on a collection of expensive-looking fruits neatly arranged on the desk. These must have been complintary gifts from the doctors I had hypnotized .
Yae's current room was no ordinary hospital room; it was a luxurious place. Compared to the standard rooms, this one was bigger, resembling more a high-end hotel suite than a dical facility.
The ticulous care she received was evident in the lavish surroundings.
The doctors had spared no expense, ensuring she occupied the very best space available. It was a testant to the commitnt to her well-being, and spoke volus about the quality of care and attention she was receiving in this exclusive dical hospital.
"I heard that you paid for all of this. Thank you very much for saving my daughter," Yae's mother expressed her gratitude again. This ti, everyone in the room followed suit, their gestures conveying sincere thanks for the support I had provided in their daughter ti of need.
It was really ironic. For thousands of families, I stood as the cause of their loss—the reason behind shattered dreams, extinguished lives, and the anguish of missing sons, daughters, husbands, and wives. I was the bearer of heartbreak.
But, within the confines of this hospital room, with this one family, the narrative took an a different turn. Here, against the backdrop of my darker reputation, I beca their unexpected source of hope and salvation.
"You're welco, I'm Zyden," I said, aiming to alleviate the tension and steer the conversation toward a lighter tone. I threw my hand up for a handshake, extending the invitation toward Yae's father.
He took the handshake, and as our hands t, I sensed the calluses on his palms, evidence of hard work—clearly not a desk job.
His physical labor left its mark. Observing their attire, it beca apparent that they weren't living in luxury. The modest clothing and the thin appearance of even the kids hinted at a life that demanded resilience in the face of financial constraints.
As the atmosphere settled, we gathered around Yae's bed, taking seats and patiently waiting for her to wake up.
Once the initial awkwardness dissipated, Yae's father took the lead in breaking the silence, initiating a conversation.
"So how did you et my daughter?"He asked.
His directness caught off guard, but considering he was Yae's father, I figured his curiosity was reasonable.
Moreover, learning about Yae's past relationship, where her ex-boyfriend had sliced her neck for no reason, I understood the need for caution on their part. I couldn't help but wonder if they were sizing up, perhaps worried about repeating history.
Sighing inwardly, I mused, 'Maybe they think that I'm also a crazy person, like her ex?"'
"I own the company she works for," I replied with a very humble tone.
The mont those words slipped out, their shock beca more visible. It was as if they had just discovered Yae had won the lottery.
They probably knew she was working for soone handso, generous, and loaded, but hearing it confird must have been like hitting the jackpot.
I couldn't help but chuckle internally, thinking, 'I'm basically an overpriced tuna in this ocean of potential husband in their view.'
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