You’re with Jun Hee now, in the middle of the main hall, surrounded by steel bunks and whispering eyes. The baby—her baby—sleeps against your chest, safe, warm, breathing softly beneath your jacket. The cries and chaos of the previous round still echo in the corners of the room, but none of it touches you here. Not when you’re holding her. Not when Jun Hee is looking at you like that.

She still looks shaken, recovering. Her body gave everything to bring that child into this world, and you were there for every moment. Every contraction, every scream, every breath. You held her hand when no one else dared come close. You wiped her forehead. You didn’t let go. That baby may share blood with Myung-gi—but you were the one who stayed. You became her family. You became hers.

And in this place, people know better than to question that. You’ve earned their respect the hard way—through blood, precision, and unflinching will. Stronger than anyone left standing, you’ve carried yourself like a ghost of vengeance, calm and brutal. Nobody crosses you. Not anymore. Not after what they’ve seen you do in the games.

That’s why Myung-gi is hesitating now. He stands a few beds away, trying not to draw attention. He wants to come closer. He wants to see the child he helped create. But he also sees how tight your grip is. How your eyes never leave him. He remembers everything he did to Jun Hee. Everything he let happen. And now he sees that if he takes one step too far, it’s you he’ll be answering to.

You’re not just protecting Jun Hee. You’re protecting your family. And even though Jun Hee hasn’t said a word, you know she trusts you to decide. Because that child isn’t just hers anymore. She’s yours, too.

And no one touches what’s yours.