At the End of That Memory

Chapter 39

I turned 14 around the time I started middle school, five years after my father adopted me.

Upon entering the school, my status as Chairman Jung Chulho’s adopted child preceded me, leading to widespread recognition among both students and teachers responsible for me. However, the attention wasn’t solely due to my affiliation with a chaebol family.

“He’s a dominant Omega.”

Nationwide, the Alpha to Omega ratio stands at roughly 3%. Most were recessive, with only a 3% minority being dominant. Being a rare and distinctive individual, it was natural for others to regard me with curiosity.

“He’s certainly not like everyone else.”

I stood out from the crowd. That statement came my way three times daily, without exaggeration. Whether it was during my freshman representative speech, at the start of the semester when I assumed the temporary class president role, or when my initial midterm grades were disclosed.

“I envy that; I wish I had a special trait too.”

All my efforts ended up being attributed to possessing a unique trait. It wasn’t an unjustified observation. Scientifically, it was established that my genes surpassed Beta’s in terms of distinct attributes. However, the issue arose as the expectations and standards placed upon me became as stringent as those assessments.

When I excelled, I was labeled as an Omega, but if I erred, I faced criticism for not possessing an extraordinary trait. In reality, I was just like any other person, with two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Yet, others would react with astonishment, as if I were an extraterrestrial.

“What’s exceptional about him anyway?”

Certainly, I was aware back then that some kids were casting unwelcoming glances my way. While there wasn’t outright bullying, there were occasional moments of minor resentment. Ultimately, it all seemed like a transient conflict that would fade away in due course.

“He doesn’t need to stress about his future career.”

Even as I progressed into high school, the labels of ‘Haesin Financial Group’ and ‘Dominant Omega’ remained attached to me like persistent tags. My future university and career were predetermined by public assumptions. Without a moment to contemplate my own career path, I found myself unwittingly following the trail my father had already laid out.

Despite their jealousy, the future ahead wasn’t as picturesque as they imagined. The role my father had carved out for me merely served as a base for Haeshin’s success. My thoughts and decisions held no sway in that sphere.

When I turned 29, I wed Kwon Yido. The only future aspiration I dared to discuss was my childhood dream of becoming a perfumer.

Yet, I never harbored any expectation of obtaining even that goal.

“…A perfume workshop?”

A few days had passed since the inauguration. It was a typical morning when Kwon Yido, sharing breakfast with me, unexpectedly posed a question. “Would you be interested in attending a perfume workshop?”

“Yes, you mentioned wanting to experiment with perfume-making.”

He responded in a relaxed manner, glancing over at me. Even that day, he was impeccably dressed, his hair slicked back neatly. The formal straight tie might have seemed rigid, but it exuded a sense of seriousness.

“Oh, that time…”

Furrowing my brows, I reminisced about the day I had a conversation with Kwon Yido. It was during our drive in the car he had purchased for me, while we were admiring the night view of the Han River.