As the days unfurled, marking the passage of time with the slow descent of autumn leaves, Flynn adapted to his newfound home on Earth. The initial searing heat of his arrival, occasionally cooled by delightful rain showers, had surrendered to a more temperate temperature. Though confined to the hospital for the entirety of the past month, he had not allowed idleness to devour him. Instead, he carefully pursued his mission, embracing every opportunity to study and adapt to this new environment.

Gradually, Flynn began to grasp the intricate workings of Earth, a realm devoid of the mystical powers he was accustomed to. Instead, modern technology drove the lives of its residents, permeating every part of their existence. The marvels he discovered left him amazed, none more so than the discovery of elevators, the mechanical portals that smoothly moved people vertically without magic.

While his initial shock had been tremendous, Flynn rapidly switched his concentration to more vital problems. Understanding that his current surroundings were not a dungeon cell but a place of recovery eased some of his weary thoughts. With this newfound clarity, he could prioritize his goals and devise plans more accurately.

Yet, a specific hurdle loomed before him—a bespectacled man whose piercing glance appeared to probe the depths of his soul. Flynn was bewildered by the suspicions that clouded the man's gaze, uncertain about the origin of this scrutiny. Nevertheless, he knew the gravity of the situation and the necessity to secure his secrets diligently. The man has the power to derail his plans, and Flynn is determined to traverse the complicated dance of deception with utmost caution.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Han?" Doctor Kang's voice rang with concern and professionalism as his glance bounced between Flynn and the stack of papers he had in his hands.

"I'm feeling much better, doctor," Flynn said, his voice filled with a controlled tone of gratitude and respect. He knew the necessity of preserving the illusion of an appreciative and cooperative patient. After all, it was vital to stay on the doctor's good side and avoid raising any concerns.

"That's good to hear. And what about your memories? Have you had any recollections?" The doctor's inquiry proceeded, his pen prepared to note any significant developments.

Flynn's eyes lowered, his focus fixed on the floor, as he created a well-manufactured face of dissatisfaction and longing. His forehead wrinkled, conveying a sense of genuine concern. With measured precision, he let out a deep sigh, portraying a sense of sorrow over his memory loss. "Well, to be honest, doctor, I haven't been able to recall much. Apart from the brief moment after I was transported back to my room, my memories remain frustratingly evasive."

He allowed a flash of disappointment to play across his face, producing the image of a genuine struggle. Each word and gesture was meant to enhance the sense of his desperate yearning to remember. Deep down, Flynn knew acting too composed or unaffected by his memory loss would only arouse suspicions. He had to play the act convincingly to guarantee his secret remained well-guarded.

"If only I could recall my memories," he said, his voice tinged with desperation. "I feel like I'm burdening everyone around me with my lack of recollection. It's frustrating not being able to contribute more to my recovery."

Doctor Kang offered a warm smile, yet a speck of mistrust lingered in his gaze. Despite his doubts, his compassionate nature forced him to prioritize the patient's well-being before him. With a quiet sigh, he pushed aside his nagging thoughts and focused on providing guidance and support.

"Take your time, Mr. Han. It's important not to rush the process of recovering your memories," the doctor suggested, his voice calming. "While memories hold significance, embracing the present and creating new experiences is equally crucial. Life is meant to be lived, and you have countless opportunities to make new memories."

As Doctor Kang rose from his seat, his gaze met Flynn's with a profound understanding. He sought to soothe his patient and provide hope amidst the confusion that clouded his head.

"Once you are released, I encourage you to explore new environments, to immerse yourself in the world around you," the doctor suggested. "Sometimes, a change in scenery can trigger the recollection of forgotten moments. However, please remember to attend your weekly appointments so we can monitor your progress."

"Thank you, doctor. I will keep that in mind," Flynn murmured, his face changing into a slight smile.

"Well then, as far as I can see, there's not much to do here. You have a healthy body and sound mind. You're good to go but remember all the things I told you." With those parting words of advice, Doctor Kang extended a hand towards Flynn, the gesture serving as both a farewell and a symbol of support.

The doctor left Flynn alone in the room, his heart beating with dread and excitement. A new world awaited him, a voyage yet to unfold. However, he realized that a tough assignment lay ahead. He couldn't afford to be idle and let time pass by. He had no idea how much time he had left in this borrowed body. He sought answers to all the unanswered doubts that haunted his mind, and if possible, he wanted to confront those who had harmed him. Only then could he fully live away from the shadows, enjoying the sunlight as a righteous and honest man.

"What's keeping you lost in thought, my dear son?" Mrs. Han inquired, her face beaming with a bright smile. She came closer to Flynn, her hands stretching to his head, gently touching it. "Is the consultation with Doctor Kang finished?"

"Yes, Mom. He said I'm all cleared," Flynn said, his head gently resting into her soothing touch. This interaction, too, was a carefully thought-out plan. Or so he believed. Despite his goals, he couldn't help but succumb to the genuine affection Mrs. Han showered upon him. Her heartfelt feelings pierced the innermost center of his existence, underscoring the sharp contrast between her pure love and the destructive relationships he had encountered. If he had to draw a comparison, she resembled the Goldenleaf's crowned prince—loving, affectionate, and eager to do anything for her loved ones.

Yet Flynn found it difficult to understand why Cheol had decided to hurt her. Why had he tried to take his own life? Why had he harshly treated his mother, who wished to offer him everything she could?

"That's a relief. Finally, a new start is ahead. This place brings back so many bad memories," Mrs. Han stated, her eyes brimming with long-overdue relief. "I have consulted with the billing department, and we can go ahead and check out."

"Is it about the payment? Is there anything I can do to help?" Flynn inquired. He knew that this world placed considerable significance on money, exactly like his own. The cost of hiring qualified healers must be enormous, and considering the superior medical tools available, the expenses of his treatment were certainly substantial.

"Don't worry about it. Just focus on your recovery." Mrs. Han soothed him, her hands busying themselves with collecting the belongings that she had prepared prior.

"Mom," Flynn's voice quivered slightly as he addressed her. The words were laden with emotions he had hidden for far too long. "I'm sorry, Mom, for everything."

Flynn couldn't simply leave things be. Even if he had to pretend to be Cheol Han, he refused to treat Mrs. Han like Cheol did. She was a saintly figure who would stand by his side through thick and thin. She was someone he needed to navigate this new environment. Even if he couldn't tell the unpleasant truth, he believed it was time to say something long overdue.

A month ago, after his initial contact with Mrs. Han, Flynn regained a particular memory—one in a bar where a reckless fistfight had broken out. The uproar intensified, and before he knew it, the cops intervened, hauling him to the police station. Fortunately, no charges were made, and Cheol and the other party involved sorted out their disputes with a simple handshake.

For the old Cheol, such episodes were just another day in his reckless existence—a monument to his hotheaded and impulsive temperament. However, the aftermath of that night was where the real problem lay. Cheol's mother had come to the police station with fear and worry written on her face. Without hesitation or questions, she had taken her son home, providing him with a chance at redemption.

A faithful son would have understood his shortcomings and delivered an honest apology. But the old Cheol was far from dutiful. Instead of seeking forgiveness, he had sunk deeper into his twisted habits, taking his mother's purse and heartlessly throwing her to the ground when she tried to stop him. At that moment, he had abandoned her, leaving behind shattered trust and a heartbroken mother.

When Flynn reminisced on those past occurrences, his lips twisted into an apologetic grin, and tears welled up in his eyes. The weight of Cheol's past deeds poured down on him, but he also felt a newfound drive to make amends. This second chance at life was an opportunity for redemption. And the first step on that road was to apologize to a mother, acknowledge the pain this body had caused her, and open the way for a brighter future.

His mother's hands paused momentarily, her fingers trembling with astonishment, relief, and an incredible wave of emotions. The room seemed to hold its breath, immersed in a quiet silence that allowed the moment's weight to settle. Flynn's apology, albeit long overdue, was a significant revelation, sparking a spectrum of conflicted responses within Mrs. Han.

Joy and adoration surged in her heart, grateful that her relentless efforts and unfailing affection seemed to have penetrated Cheol's tough veneer. Yet, melancholy mingled with that joy, knowing that her son must have undergone enormous suffering and bore responsibilities that had been kept buried for far too long. He had been a rough, guarded youth, forming himself into a persona that never allowed vulnerability to request help. And yet, today, at this moment of unexpected vulnerability, she sensed a flicker of hope for a new beginning—a chance for Cheol to rediscover himself and find solace within the warmth of his family.

"It's fine, son. It's fine," she murmured, her voice shaking slightly as though straining to conceal the wellspring of emotions within her. Though tinged with hints of tiredness, her soft grin showed continuous acceptance and understanding. In that fleeting moment, she sought to reassure Cheol that she realized the depths of his guilt and embraced his apology wholeheartedly.

Cheol's voice quivered as he sought to convey the immense remorse and sadness that gripped his heart. "Mom, did you not get tired? You know I—" His words stuttered, burdened with the weight of unspoken feelings.

"My son, of course, I got tired," she said, her voice a careful balance of tiredness and unyielding determination. Weariness etched into the wrinkles of her face, a witness to the innumerable times of doubt and misery she had encountered as a mother. "There were so many times when I questioned whether I should have let you be or given up. But every time those thoughts crossed my mind, I couldn't help but remember the beautiful moments we shared, the glimpses of your true self that shone through. Deep inside, I've always known you're not a bad person. And just now, you proved me right."

Flynn's unwarranted memories of Cheol's darkness he held within him, the weight of remorse and shame for this body's past deeds that plagued him, evoked a fountain of tears, threatening to spill from his eyes. The knowledge of the sorrow inflicted on himself and on others in Cheol's life weighed hard on his conscience. Yet, it also sparked a renewed drive to become a better version of the new possessor of this body.

"Thank you. This time, I promise to be a dutiful son," Cheol swore, his voice resolute and sincere, the newfound conviction resounding through each word.

"That's good. Instead of dwelling on the past, let's focus on looking forward and not looking back," Mrs. Han advised, her eyes glistening with empathy and compassion. In her gaze, Cheol found peace and a glimpse of hope, a shared belief that their journey towards healing and restoring their family bond would involve putting the past behind them.

Though the room's cozy ambiance embraced them, Flynn, buried within Cheol, sensed a subtle discomfort lingering beneath the surface. This sudden burst of emotional attachment toward someone he had hardly known was uncharted territory, undermining his carefully constructed defenses. Swiftly, Flynn switched his thoughts, seeking a new topic, something they could discuss to divert the intensity of the moment.

"Since brother Hyun is conscripted in the military, will Dad be at home? It seems like he must have hated me enough to not visit me even once," Cheol mused aloud, his voice tinted with longing and hatred.

The color left Mrs. Han's face; her gaze was briefly distant as she wrestled with the weight of unspoken realities. Her mouth opened and closed for a moment, a struggle of contradictory feelings waging within her.

"Is something wrong, Mom?" Cheol's concern poured into his voice, understanding the unspoken sorrow that weighed on his mother's heart.

"Well... You know your brother is conscripted in the military. He should call when he can visit. I've already informed him about your awakening," she finally said, her words deliberately avoiding the topic of Cheol's father.

"What about father?" Cheol's voice contained a note of bitterness, a mix of sadness and contempt coloring his words.

His mother's features were distorted with despair and resignation, her eyes holding the weight of hidden pain. She took a deep breath and found the resolve to convey the truth that had tortured her.

"Your father... he ran away," she finally said, the words loaded with a terrible anguish that clung to every syllable.