"Tae-won," a voice murmured, laced with sympathy. "Your father... he was a good man."

Sounds of sobbing could be heard in the room as people dressed in black clothes passed on their messages and lit incense and placed flowers on the coffin placed at one end of the hall.

Presiding over the somber scene was a boy, barely seventeen. His eyes, devoid of tears, held an unsettling emptiness. Lost, yet oddly composed, he stood there as if the weight of his father's absence hadn't settled yet.

Whispers snaked through the crowd, laced with judgment.  "The unfilial son," they murmured, their eyes flickering towards the boy. "Not a tear for his own father."

…

"Ugh, how fake," I muttered under my breath, the hypocrisy of the mourners turning my stomach.

I scanned the hall, a hollowness echoing within me. Disgust? Maybe once. Now, it was a dull ache, numbed by years of indifference.  Why waste anger on strangers when my own family had carved wounds so deep they'd never truly heal?

A twisted smile tugged at my lips. How long had it been since a genuine one? The irony of the situation, that's what made me smile. The whispers intensified, a venomous current as the smile widened. Let them brand me the unfilial son. In this twisted game, they weren't entirely wrong.

The old man in the coffin, was he ever truly a father? The serene mask on his face mocked me. What secrets did he take to his grave? Why the loathing in his final words?

"You, the source of all my misery! May your next life be a torment, death a fleeting dream! When judgment comes, you'll yearn for oblivion!"

Crazy? Undoubtedly. The last three years were a descent into madness. Broken bones, a forced stay in a mental asylum - testaments to his cruelty. They whispered he was a good man before my mother left. A faint memory flickered, a phantom limb of a past I couldn't grasp.

"Tae-won," a voice, laced with a newfound authority, pierced the haze. Uncle. Ever since the old man's health crumbled, he'd swooped in, taking control of the business and estate.

You see, I wasn't just grieving. I was an obstacle. Now that the inheritance was mine, my presence was inconvenient.

"There's something important we need to discuss..." His tone, usually dripping with feigned concern, was clipped, almost condescending. A shift. Something was definitely brewing.

Soon the Ceremony was over…

With all the people leaving, Tae Won was left all alone. It was a familiar feeling, a constant hum in the background of his isolated life. His father had kept him cloistered, the internet his only window to the world.

"Seems everyone's flown the coop," a voice slithered into Tae Won's ear. He saw his uncle, a man whose greedy grin seemed even wider than usual, standing by the door.

'So eager, is he?' Tae Won thought, a flicker of something sharp crossing his gaze.  "Come to the terrace, let's raise a toast to your dear brother," his uncle boomed, already heading out.

Tae Won muttered to himself, "Here we go again."  Despite the years of confinement, there was no fear in his eyes, just a blank indifference. He truly didn't know what awaited him beyond these walls, but after a lifetime in a cage, freedom, even uncertain freedom, was a heady prospect. 'Maybe it's time to experience all that I've only seen on a screen,' a thought flickered across his mind. A hint of a smile, quickly suppressed, played on his lips as he followed his uncle.

The terrace door creaked open as Tae Won stepped out. A strong wind whipped around him, carrying the scent of the night.

"Ah, you made it," his uncle greeted, his face flushed, not just from the wind. He clutched a bottle of alcohol, already half-empty.  To Tae Won's surprise, his uncle wasn't alone.  A thin, wiry man stood beside him, the ever-present legal secretary.

'Mr. Kim,' Tae Won recognized him. He handled all his uncle's legal affairs.

"Tae Won," his uncle began, his voice dripping with mock seriousness, "I have a surprise for you. It seems your father left a will. Why don't you take a look?" He gestured for Mr. Kim to hand over the document.

Tae Won took the papers, a strange feeling churning in his gut. 'So, the old man even clings to his games from beyond the grave,' he thought.  He scanned the document briefly, his face betraying nothing.

"Hmm," he muttered, a single sound that could mean anything.  He handed the papers back without a word and approached the railing, resting his hands on the cool metal.

'Why?'  The question echoed in the vast emptiness of his life.  Who isolates their own child? He'd never received a straight answer. The only clue was a memory - his father's eyes, filled with a burning hatred, as he uttered, "You will suffer everything I did. Then, you'll understand."

Those words, spoken years ago, still sent a shiver down Tae Won's spine.

His uncle's voice cut through the silence, laced with irritation.  "Can't you read, boy?  Or is this some act?  Your father left everything to me, his only living relative. If you doubt it, I have the paperwork to-"

Tae Won cut him off, his voice surprisingly steady. "Keep it all, Uncle. I wouldn't want it anyway." 

Money?

Did they truly believe he needed it?

In truth, he desired nothing material. Perhaps there was something he longed for, an unspoken need, but it eluded him, an experience he had never encountered.

"You!!" Enraged, the uncle vented his frustration. For three years, he had ingratiated himself with Tae-won and others, aiming for succession. To discover that his brother had bequeathed everything to Tae-won incited his rage.

"You lowly bastard... do you even know of your origin?" The uncle's revelation seized Tae-won's attention. Slowly turning, he faced his uncle with a calm demeanor.

"Look at you, bastard... you don't even flinch. Were you aware that you don’t even share our blood? Your mother cheated on your father; no one knows where your blood comes from. Were you dreaming of inheriting all this, despite knowing it all, you bastard!"

In a fit of rage, the fat man raised his foot and kicked forward.

"Thud!"

Unprepared, Tae-won lost his footing, and the next thing he knew, his body was sliding over the railing.

'Are you kidding me...'

Time seemed to slow down, his last thoughts clinging to the unrealized mysteries of life.

"Sir, there was no need to go that far..." The secretary sighed, looking at the fat man. Another issue now demanded his attention.

"Hahah... don’t spoil the fun on this good occasion..." The fat man reveled in the chaos he had orchestrated.