Mina had a great personality.
She was nothing like her mother.
Her mother lived like a queen, treated as such by everyone around her.
That meant her personality didn't have to be good.
No one batted an eye even if she treated people poorly.
There is a line.
A line that exists for humans to avoid becoming demons.
Cross it, and you're a demon who has forsaken humanity.
Stay on this side, and you're still human.
Ayoung was a woman who stuck to the bare minimum of that line.
I didn't know that when we were dating.
We lived in completely different worlds.
She went to the College of Fine Arts.
I went to Medical School.
So I never saw her true nature.
What she showed me was all an act.
A flawless performance.
My ex-wife had a weapon.
Her looks.
Her arms and legs were so perfectly proportioned that she could have stood in as a body double for celebrities.
And her face was beautiful too.
The kind that made you wonder why she hadn't become an idol.
When someone like that approached me so naturally, how could I not fall for her?
She wielded that beauty like a queen ruling her domain.
It was national power-level influence.
Men would risk their lives just for a glance from her.
She used that power freely.
No one dared call her out on it.
She never crossed the line into demon territory, and as long as she stayed on the right side, she was always in the clear.
You know how it is.
"She's pretty, so it's forgiven."
That actually works in the real world.
She used everyone around her as props in her grand play.
And I fell victim to her theater.
What she wanted was money.
And a doctor husband.
Not love for me.
Yeah.
Something felt off about the whole story.
That was when I should have realized.
How dangerous it is to be with someone who molds themselves to fit you.
I still remember how her attitude flipped the moment our family fell apart.
Back then, I was too naive to see it.
She deliberately started fights, using them as an excuse to leave.
And blamed it all on me.
"Oppa, you're beyond saving."
That was the first time I saw her true colors.
I should have cut everything off right then.
But thanks to that, I was able to pull myself together and focus solely on my studies.
It felt like the end of the world at the time, but looking back now, I'm truly grateful.
Korea University, the top school in our country.
And Korea University Hospital, the nation's premier university hospital.
Not every Korea University Medical School grad gets into Korea University Hospital.
Only the absolute top scorers do.
With everything forcibly sorted out, I threw myself into studying and eventually started my internship there.
Interns and residents practically live at the hospital—the workload is that intense.
I really did live there.
It saved me money on food and rent, and I got plenty of face time with the head of Thoracic Surgery.
That's how I became a Thoracic Surgery specialist.
In the midst of all that, Ayoung came back to me.
Exactly one month after I became a doctor.
"I'm sorry... Oppa... Forgive me just this once."
I took her back.
She was the wicked woman who had trampled my pride into the dirt.
But she was also the one who could lift it back up.
Ayoung's beauty was a huge bragging right among my doctor colleagues.
She knew it too.
That she could boost my pride with her looks.
That's why I accepted her—the woman who'd thrown me away—as my wife.
Two things felt a bit off at the time.
First, the moment we got back together, she started demanding sex like a maniac.
Second, she insisted we register our marriage right away.
Later, when I dug into my ex-wife's past, the results were shocking.
After we split, she'd been with five different guys.
But she dumped them all.
None of them measured up.
And who could blame her?
Before our family went bankrupt, I lived well and showered her with everything she wanted.
Mostly luxury goods.
Few men could keep up with that.
Then, for some reason, she started sneaking into Gangnam clubs behind her boyfriend's back every day.
That's when she heard about me.
That I'd become a specialist at Korea University Hospital.
Mina was probably conceived around then.
I tried using an errand service to find Mina's real father, but it was a bust.
Apparently, my ex-wife sometimes slept with up to three guys a day.
But they were all one-night stands.
Without testing every single one's DNA, finding Mina's biological dad was impossible.
Anyway, Mina was the child I was raising, so I gave up on the search.
She was a villainess.
The main culprit who ruined my life.
But she gave me Mina.
The daughter of a villainess.
But utterly unlike her mother.
They say a child's personality takes after their parents.
If that were true, I'd have shipped Mina back to her mom ages ago.
But Mina never went that route.
She was pure-hearted and overflowing with responsibility.
Smart, but never arrogant, always carrying that sense of duty.
Above all, she loved me... her daddy.
If it weren't for Mina's encouragement when I was lost in despair after losing everything, I might have sunk into the swamp and never come out.
"I love you, Daddy."
"Hang in there, Daddy."
She has no idea how much power those words held for me.
Anyway, I got a bit sidetracked.
I just wanted to say how amazing Mina is.
Mina got along great with her friends too.
She didn't seem to use them.
Queen bee games.
The thing I hated most.
Thankfully, Mina could have played that role but chose not to.
When she was in fifth grade, I visited her elementary school.
The cafeteria was under construction, so I had to send a lunchbox, but I couldn't make it on time.
I rushed to throw one together and headed to the teachers' office.
Her homeroom teacher's evaluation was glowing.
"I might sound biased saying this, but... kids with looks like hers usually know they're pretty and try to lord it over the others."
"But not Mina. She's so kind."
The highest praise I could hope for about my daughter.
The best compliment.
I was relieved.
"Oh, it's Daddy!"
Thud thud thud.
She came bounding over like a cute puppy, all bouncy energy.
And threw herself into my arms.
The teachers around us watched our father-daughter moment with envious smiles.
"Daddy! Why are you here?!"
"Why do you think? To bring your lunch."
"I could've skipped it, but hehe! Thanks, Daddy!!"
Mina grinning with her teeth showing was an angel.
"Can I walk her back to class myself?"
"Sure, go ahead. Thanks."
Mina grabbed my hand and swung our arms wildly.
She was thrilled.
"Why so excited, Mina?"
"I missed you, and poof—here you are! Like Santa bringing me a present!"
"You little rascal, we see each other every day. That miss me already?"
"I wanna see you all the time!"
Mina's innocent smile was impossibly lovable.
"Hey? Mina, is that your dad?"
"Yeah, say hi! This is my dad! Isn't he cool?"
"Hello!"
"Hello!!"
Greetings came from all around.
Boys, girls—it didn't matter; they were all Mina's friends.
I could tell instantly what kind of image Mina had among her classmates.
"Hehe, these are my friends!"
Why was it?
Tears welled up.
Raising Mina alone had been tough.
The nagging thought that she wasn't my blood.
That maybe I should send her back to her mom even now.
Those awful thoughts drove me crazy.
But seeing this? They all vanished.
She was growing up so kindly, so rightly.
My daughter.
My proud daughter.
"Mina's friends, huh? Wanna come over sometime? This uncle will make you something yummy."
And that's how I started regularly inviting Mina's friends to our house.
Mina was over the moon.
"See? This is my dad's cooking!"
"Whoa... My mom's is so bad."
"Lucky."
"So thank my dad nicely!"
"Thank you!"
"Itadakimasu!"
Receiving their greetings was one of my joys.
Mina loved it too.
She was busy bragging about her dad to her friends.
I believe in physiognomy.
A person's true nature shows on their face.
Even kids—if they're mean, it shows in their features.
Good kids have that special expression.
All the kids Mina brought home had kind faces.
Relief.
That's how I kept hosting home parties for Mina's friends all the way through her second year of middle school.
It was worth it.
After the divorce, I'd honed my cooking skills flipping through cookbooks in my spare time.
Seeing Mina and her friends happy made me happy too.
The problem hit right before she graduated middle school and entered high school—on her birthday.
One of the invited girls was particularly dainty and refined.
"You must be Mina's dad. Hello."
Her gaze on me felt a little off.
Like she was appraising me?
"You're younger than I thought, Mina's dad. And those arms... Hehe."
"Ah... yeah."
She had this charming way her eyes curved into half-moons when she smiled.
She playfully nudged my daughter while laughing.
Mina seemed annoyed by her friend's behavior but held back because I was there.
Still kids.
I brushed it off.
"Whoa!"
Thud.
The girl had offered to help carry food from the kitchen to the kids and tripped toward me.
What she grabbed was my arm.
"S-sorry... My mistake..."
The japchae she was holding spilled on my clothes, so she frantically scooped it up with her hands.
"...I'll clean it up."
She handled it with surprising poise.
"D-Daddy!! Are you okay?!"
Mina saw it and came rushing over, shoving her friend aside to start cleaning.
The kitchen was my domain, but also Mina's.
She quickly grabbed a rag and wiped my clothes.
"Hey! Be careful!"
"S-sorry..."
Mina's sharp glare tore into her friend.
The girl, seeing this side of Mina for the first time, panicked awkwardly, mumbled a goodbye to me, and bolted.
"Daddy, you're really okay, right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Weren't you a bit harsh on your friend?"
"Ah... yeah. I'll apologize."
"Good. Go say sorry and have fun. I'll go change."
"Good thing you're not hurt, Daddy."
"I'm a grown-up. It takes more than that."
"Hehe, got it."
Was it my imagination?
After that, Mina never brought that friend over again.
No.
No friends came to our house after that.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The school fence out back.
It borders an abandoned building, so hardly anyone goes there.
A few friends spotted Mina and the girl who'd spilled japchae on Mina's dad glaring at each other as they headed in.
And not long after, that girl transferred schools.
Rumors swirled that it was because of Mina, but they died out in a flash.