Seventeen years after that night he was taken…
A young man sat leaning against a tree. Behind him stood a large, white building—worn but still sturdy. An orphanage. In his hand, a piece of paper showed the results of a DNA test.
In his other hand, a black phone was pressed to his ear. He was on a call with someone.
"All the data you asked for has been sent, Master — especially everything related to the rumors about the relic and those eye fragments," the voice on the other end said.
"As for your family, there isn't much beyond what's already public. Their private records are tightly guarded and heavily encrypted."
The voice pause for a moment before adding,
"Especially that person. Of all people, you just had to be related to someone with a significant position in the World Magic Association."
The voice let out a quiet sigh.
"That's going to make this mission a bit more troublesome for you, Master."
"That's fine," the young man replied calmly. "Their presence is a threat to me—but as long as I keep my power in check, everything will be fine."
"What you've given is already helpful. I'll figure out the rest myself." he added.
"Yes, Master," the voice answered, a hint of hesitation lingering in her tone.
"But... are you sure you want to do this? If not, I can assign another member to take your place and assume your identity. Living that kind of life... might not suit someone like you."
The young man fell silent for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh.
"Haah… there's a pretty high chance that family really does possess the relic. And right now, I'm the only one who can detect it — which means I'm the only one who can handle this," he replied in a lazy tone.
"And as for them… hmph… whether they dote on me or keep picking fights, you're right — a drama-filled family life just isn't for someone as lazy as me."
His gaze dropped to the documents beside him.
"But in the end, they're my real family. Mission or not, I still have to go. So relax — everything will be fine."
The voice on the other end went quiet for a few seconds before replying,
"Understood, Master. I just hope this will open a greater path for us to be accepted in this world."
The young man nodded slightly.
"Yeah. I'll make it happen. Trust me."
"Yes, Master."
And with that, the call ended.
The young man let out a small yawn and glanced at the DNA report in his hand. His name and family name were printed clearly across the top.
"The Virellano family, huh?" he murmured. "Of all the families we've been monitoring, turns out I'm the biological son of one that wasn't even a target."
"If it were Norvalien or Tamarvich, it would've had a massive impact on our mission... but Virellano?"
Moments later—
DING!
A message notification popped up on his phone.
He smiled faintly as he checked the screen. A note appeared, short and direct:
Mission:
- Locate the relic to lift the curse
- Integrate smoothly and gain acceptance without raising suspicion
"Is this just a coincidence? Or is someone pushing us down this path?" the young man muttered. "How ironic."
"But more than that… I always thought the only way back was to integrate properly. Yet now, with these rumors about a relic—if they're real—it could truly cure us."
His eyes flickered with rising determination.
"Whether the relic actually exists or not… whether we can integrate or not… I'll make sure we're accepted back into this world."
"For sure."
Not long after, he opened the file containing detailed information about his integration mission within the family.
The documents included extensive data on each family member, as well as the public image of the Virellano household.
His eyes softened as he stared at the faces of people who were supposed to be his family. His father, mother, and siblings.
One young man in the data caught his attention.
"So… he's the one who replaced me?" he muttered under his breath.
Then his gaze sharpened when another man's face showed up on the screen.
The guy looked to be in his early thirties with a laid-back appearance. Yet the information about him was strangely limited—almost as if he was intentionally hidden.
"This guy… hmm. He's going to be a problem," he murmured again.
He turned off the phone with a sigh, rubbing his temple with mild frustration.
"Hmph… Can I really pull this off?" he muttered under his breath, eyes following the dark leaves above, swaying against the overcast sky.
"They're my blood. I belong with them. But for some reason… I've got a bad feeling. I—I'm just afraid I might end up destroying them. Haha."
"Huff… I need to get those thoughts out of my head. Everything will be fine. Whatever it is… I'll handle it."
Then, a group of people approached him.
Several well-built men in suits—likely assistants or bodyguards.
A casually dressed man whose vibe felt completely laid-back, the same mysterious guy he had just seen in the documents.
And a middle-aged man wearing a formal, luxurious suit.
"It's time for us to go," the middle-aged man said.
The young man let out a deep sigh, a mix of disbelief... or perhaps just laziness.
He gave a slight nod and grabbed his backpack, following the man to a luxury car parked not far from the orphanage gate.
Several residents of the orphanage were seen wiping away tears, moved by his departure—he was leaving, only to return.
And so, the car drove away, carrying a young man from the home he had always known... to the home where his bloodline awaited.
---
The bustling city of Makazhar roared with life that day. Rain was falling—not heavy, but steady enough to wet the streets.
The young man sat silently in the back seat of a Mercedes-Benz, his gaze empty as he stared out the bulletproof window.
Rain was falling again today—almost the same as the night his life had begun with a lie. Today, he was returning to the family he'd been separated from for seventeen years.
In his thoughts:
What should I do when I meet my mother and siblings later?
Should I act cheerful for the first impression? …No, no. I wouldn't be able to keep up that kind of image for long.
Maybe I should act dignified and a little arrogant? Ugh… they're my family, not my subordinates.
Or maybe I should just be myself—lazy and uninterested? Would an elite family even accept someone like that?
He could feel himself slipping into another round of overthinking.
Hmph... This is such a pain. Returning to a family I've never even seen before. I guess the words "familiar" and "family" don't always mean the same thing.
He let out a quiet sigh, resting his head against the window.
His reflection appeared faintly in the glass—a seventeen-year-old boy with pale skin, the kind of tone that came from growing up far from luxury.
And yet, he radiated an unusual charm—hard to ignore.
His hair was jet-black and slightly messy, as if he didn't care to use a comb.
His eyes were sharp, black as pearls, calm but observant—like someone quietly studying the world, with no real interest in getting involved.
His nose was straight, his chin defined.
Despite his youth, there was a maturity in his expression—like someone who had seen too much, even without living too long.
He was tall and lean. Not with the posture of a soldier, but of someone hardened by survival.
His shoulders were broad for someone his age, and when he stood, his presence drew attention—without even trying.
Yet, his appearance was simple.
A plain black hoodie covered a white t-shirt underneath, paired with knee-length black pants that looked like relics from a forgotten year.
Even his shoes weren't expensive—just worn-out white canvas sneakers, ironically mocking the fact that he was now sitting in a billion-rupiah car on his way to a noble's mansion.
He wasn't the kind of guy who wanted attention. But somehow, the world couldn't help but take a second look.
Yes, he was handsome—but that wasn't what held people's gaze. It was something hidden beneath his calm expression.
Something that seemed to whisper: I could destroy your world... but I'm too lazy to bother.
And today, this young man was returning to a place that saw him as a stranger.
Not as a guest.
Not as a servant.
But as their blood.
His name was Al.
A lazy young man... with a story unlike any other.
---
"What are you thinking about, Al?"
The voice came from the middle-aged man sitting beside him in the back seat.
His face was calm but stern, marked by sharp lines of discipline. His hair was neatly combed, with streaks of white showing at the temples.
A man who had just returned into Al's life after seventeen long years. Now, personally picking him up from the orphanage—with the family chauffeur in tow.
His father.
Al turned to look at him.
This man was Edward Virellano—my biological father.
According to the data I received, he was the Head of the Virellano Family and the Chairman of the Virellano Group—
one of the most powerful conglomerates in Indorosia, with business empires stretching across Asia, the Middle East, Europe, and America.
He quietly analyzed the man in his thoughts.
His public persona was firm yet composed—warmer than most elites, who usually reeked of arrogance. A man with the charisma of a politician, living the life of a businessman.
Interesting.
But what kind of man was he... as a father?
Al didn't answer immediately. He simply stared out the window, watching the drizzle dance across the glass.
An unfamiliar feeling crept over him. Not fear. Not comfort.
"Nothing, Mr. Ed—I mean… nothing, Father," Al finally replied, his tone soft flat.
"I just feel... awkward. I don't know how to act when I meet Mother and my siblings. And whether any of you will even see me as... family."
His father was momentarily taken aback.
He leaned back in his seat calmly, showing no visible reaction.
"You'll be fine," said another voice from the front passenger seat.
The man turned around casually, giving Al a small, relaxed smile.
His sharp black eyes stood out against his slightly pale skin, and his loosely tied long hair added to his easy-going look.
His tone was steady, but the lift at the corner of his mouth made it feel lighter.
"Everyone at home is waiting. They'll accept you, no matter what," he said, reassuring.
Al glanced at him. That was Khalil—his uncle, his mother's younger brother. For now, Al didn't know much about his background.
All he knew was that Khalil worked for the World Magic Association… and held a high position there.
Khalil was the one who found him in the orphanage and identified him as the missing son of the Virellano family.
Recently, the WMA had been actively searching for people affected by dark-energy curses, and the children in Al's orphanage were among those tested.
After noticing Al's resemblance—especially his facial features—to the Virellano family, Khalil immediately grew suspicious and checked further.
And sure enough… Al turned out to be the lost child.
Al looked at him again, his gaze slightly sharp at first, but then he quickly shifted into an awkward expression and nodded.
"Ah… y-yes, Uncle," he replied.
Khalil nodded back and turned around.
"Yup. No need to worry or overthink it. Besides, your mother isn't the aggressive type. Haha," he added casually.
"Unfortunately, I won't be able to stay with you for a while. I'm swamped with work. What a pity," he lamented with a dramatic sigh.
Edward also spoke up, though his tone was strict and domineering despite his intention to comfort.
"This isn't the time to hesitate," he said firmly. "You're part of the family now, Al. You don't need to think about anything else. They'll see you as one of their own."
In the end, Al nodded, still unsure whether he could fully trust their reassurance—but at least it helped ease his nerves a little.
And with that, the car continued toward the luxurious Virellano residence.