Uncle Kwon Baek.
Despite sharing no blood with the family, he bore their name.
He had earned the name through decades of loyal service. As one of the oldest members of the Baek family and the leader of their transport agency—a vassal organization tied to the merchant house—his loyalty was unquestioned.
Even now, after everything that had been taken, he remained behind, watching over what little was left.
When others left, he stayed.
He had always been that way—kind-hearted, steady, quietly cheerful even in difficult times. When the family began to crumble, he became the support the siblings leaned on, a pillar that refused to fall.
Moments ago, he had stepped out of the room where the siblings remained.
Now, alone in the corridor, he slowed his pace and sank into thought.
'What was that surge?'
His brows furrowed slightly.
Every day, without fail, he checked the boy's condition. The breathing technique he had taught Baines was more than just for comfort. It allowed him to subtly pass his own energy into the child's body, probing for irregularities.
And every time—
'Nothing. Time and again, I find no abnormality…'
Yet the memory lingered. The brief flare of crimson.
'But since that day… it's been happening more often.'
Kwon clicked his tongue softly and turned his head, glancing back at the closed door behind him.
'A power that triggers from anger. Is it among their secrets?' His eyes narrowed.
'No. They are hiding something.'
His expression hardened, the warmth in his eyes fading.
"I'll need to watch more closely," he murmured under his breath.
Turning away, he continued down the corridor.
Eventually, he reached the rear exit of the manor and stopped.
"Ah, sir. Is there anything we can help you with?" One of the guards stationed at the exit bowed. The second guard followed.
A thought dug into his mind.
"Yes." He pointed in the direction he came from.
"The young miss is having another crisis."
The two guards stared at each other with wide eyes and instantly rushed in the direction Kwon had just come out of.
"Hey, you…bring the servants." One of the guards shouted at a servant lurking around.
Kwon glanced to his right.
That was the way out.
To his left were those guards previously stood before a staircase that led up to the family head's office, and straight ahead, the corridor stretched deeper into the manor.
At the moment, there were no guards and no servants.
The halls were silent.
'It's empty.'
The sight would have troubled him once, but now, it was simply a reminder of how far the family had fallen, and that wasn't any of his concern.
Usually, he would leave at this point and return the following day, as he always did. A routine check.
But today—
"Hm."
Kwon paused, casting one last glance around before changing direction.
Instead of leaving, he turned left and headed for the stairs.
…
After leaving his mother's room, Baines stormed into his room.
He slammed the door behind him as soon as he entered. The sound echoed sharply before fading into silence.
Only then did the weight of everything crash down on him.
"Sister said not to trust anyone…" he muttered, pacing the room. "What does she mean?"
His chest tightened. He couldn't understand.
"Why would she say that?"
His chest tightened in a way he recognized all too well.
The thought that another tragedy might be looming frightened him more than he wanted to admit. His hands trembled as his thoughts spiraled.
"Is there someone here?" he whispered. "A spy?"
The thought of it made his stomach churn.
'And what was that hot thing I felt earlier?'
The question surfaced unbidden.
His head throbbed. His thoughts tangled until it felt as though something inside him might snap.
He needed air. His mind was full, and he needed to take off the load.
He moved to the far side of his room and pressed against a concealed panel. With a soft click, a hidden door slid open.
Beyond it lay an indoor garden encased in glass, reflecting the evening moonlight.
Neatly arranged rows of plants filled the space, were flowers and plants of varying colors and shapes, and herbs with sharp and earthy scents.
The air was tinged with the combination of several plants and herbs, which brought about a strange mix. The mix that might have been chaotic and overwhelming to others was but a soothing effect to Baines.
The air carried a strange harmony.
Here, the world felt quieter.
He stepped inside, moving between the rows. In here, his mind felt free. His shoulders gradually relaxed. The tight knot in his chest loosened, if only a little, and his face noticeably softened.
The ambiance was one of tranquility and relief, an almost surreal contrast to his world outside. This place had always been his anchor, the one thing that kept him from spiraling into despair.
When the nights felt too long… when the silence pressed too hard… this room reminded him of what he still had.
And what he could still lose.
He stopped, closing his eyes. His sister's words faded into the background, pushed aside by the quiet of the garden.
But it didn't change the situation of his family.
And because of that, he decided to make a decision today.
After a while, he stepped back through the hidden door.
His mind was calmer.
He took a short bath and donned a full black outfit. Standing before the mirror, he studied his reflection.
He was still just a boy, ten years old. His face was soft, unmistakably childish. But the anger behind his eyes didn't match it. His dark hair fell messily across his forehead, partially shadowing brown eyes that still carried the faintest trace of crimson.
He looked away without thinking so much about it.
"I have to leave this house," he said quietly.
Nearly two years had passed since his mother fell into her coma. Yet, nothing had changed.
Tears gathered, 'But…maybe I can find something that can change everything.'
Wiping his eyes, he slipped out of his room, his eyes darting across the corridor.
He slipped into the corridor, eyes darting left and right.
Seeing no one, he moved silently through the deserted manor until he reached his father's office.
The room was unchanged. Books lay stacked unevenly along the shelves. Letters were scattered across the desk and floor. The air smelled of old wood and dust.
"It's been three years," he whispered.
That was the last time he had seen his father.
But there was no time to reminisce. He had to finish before his sister figured out his plan.
He shut the door softly behind him and moved to the desk, sifting through the papers.
Recognized transactions, complete assignments, and letters stamped with familiar seals. None of those were what he needed.
It was the letters stamped with the unfamiliar seals, organizations of unheard names, and unrecognized transactions. Those were clues he needed.
He needed it.
A name.
A place.
Anything.
"What are you doing here, and why are you dressed up?"
The voice came from behind him.
Baines froze.
For the second time that day, he hadn't noticed someone enter the room.
His heart thudded painfully as he recognized the voice.
Slowly, he turned.