When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

Chapter 42

The restaurant was dimly lit, the private room filled with the scent of grilled meat and expensive wine. A soft murmur of conversation from the other diners filtered through the heavy wooden door, but inside, the atmosphere was suffocatingly quiet.

Han-Wool sat across from his father, the man's sharp gaze resting on him as he swirled the glass of wine in his hand.

"You're late," his father finally said, voice smooth but weighted with quiet authority.

Han-Wool didn't react. "I had things to do."

His father smirked, setting the glass down. "More important than meeting with your own father?"

Han-Wool gave a small, unreadable smile. "Of course not."

The older man studied him, as if searching for something beneath the surface of his son's expression. Then, with a sigh, he leaned back.

"Ms. Lee."

Han-Wool's fingers twitched under the table.

"I fee like she's becoming a problem," his father continued. "She's been far too nosy, far too involved in things she shouldn't be."

Han-Wool tilted his head slightly, feigning mild interest. "She's just a teacher."

His father let out a soft chuckle. "So was the last one."

Han-Wool's eyes darkened slightly, but he kept his expression neutral.

"Expelling you was a bold move," his father mused. "She should've known better."

A beat of silence.

Then, his father's voice dropped, calm and calculated.

"Perhaps Ms. Lee should meet the same fate."

Han-Wool gripped his chopsticks a little tighter.

The last teacher who had tried to expel him years ago... hadn't lasted long.

Everyone knew it, but no one dared to speak about it.

And now... Ms. Lee?

"Don't you think it's excessive?" Han-Wool asked casually, lifting a piece of food to his lips. "It's unnecessary to repeat history over something this small."

His father raised an eyebrow. "Small?"

Han-Wool shrugged. "She's not a real threat."

The older man observed him for a long moment before letting out a quiet hum.

Han-Wool said smoothly. "There's no need to waste effort on something that will handle itself."

His father leaned forward slightly. "And if she doesn't?"

Han-Wool met his gaze directly. "Then there are... other ways to make her quiet."

Han-Wool lowered his gaze, pretending to focus on his plate.

He hated him.

He hated every word he spoke.

But for now, he had to pretend.

For Ms. Lee's sake.

For his own.

For the sake of keeping things under control.

And when the dinner finally ended, he left without looking back.

-------

Han-Wool arrived at home at exactly 7 PM.

The moment he stepped inside, he felt it.

Stillness.

His movements halted at the doorway.