The Chick Class Hunter is Being Filial

“Oh, then as someone raising a child… could you share a core lesson you’ve learned?”

Hmm. Jurim tapped the table lightly with his fingers. His pitch-black eyes fixed directly on Producer Seo.
It felt, somehow, like the roles had flipped—that he was the one being observed now.
Soon, Jurim spoke again, this time as if genuinely offering advice.

“As an adult, it’s about understanding your priorities and acting accordingly. And as a parent, it’s important to know whether the signals you send to your child are coming from stubbornness, protection, or simply a desire to avoid inconvenience.”
For some reason, Seo PD faltered at those words, and Jurim continued right on.
“If you don’t constantly check and recheck your priorities, it’s easy to mess things up. Like saying you’re doing it for the kid, but acting like work comes first…”

“……”
Thud. A sharp pang struck his chest.
He didn’t know why—but it felt like that message had been aimed squarely at him.

Seo PD moistened his dry lips and continued asking, trying to appear unaffected.
“So… who’s at the top of your priority list, Guildmastuh?”
Jurim gently waved his left hand.
“I’ll just say it’s the kid who houses a Dark Flame Dragon in her left hand.”

“You’d better hang in there. She’s about to hit middle school—when that dragon gets unleashed, it’s gonna be chaos…”
“It’ll be a mess. Though I doubt the seal will even last until middle school.”
Jurim chuckled, a bit hollowly, and Seo PD burst into laughter too.

“If you could say one thing to your top priority?”
Hmm. Jurim lowered his gaze, thinking for a moment. Then he smiled softly and looked straight ahead.
“I love you… so much that no method could ever convey it without loss.”

At that moment, Guru came running into the studio.
“Oppaw!”
Jurim smiled as if he’d already known, scooped the child up as she ran to him, and lifted her high.

The camera lens lingered on the father and daughter, locked in an affectionate gaze.
***
After filming wrapped up, the entire crew had smiles on their faces.

“Their bond’s so sweet, it’s like we’re shooting a parenting reality show. Don’t you think?”
When Writer Jung commented, Seo PD finally nodded.
“Oh, yeah. Totally.”

“You seem kind of out of it today though. Something wrong?”
“Huh? Do I?”
Seo PD was known for his relentless drive. Especially during shoots—he was never one to space out like this. It felt strange.
“Are you just in a really good mood? Feels like this episode’s gonna blow up. Real hit vibes.”

“Mm… maybe so.”
“You heading straight to editing? Or is it team dinner tonight?”
Producer Seo, the man who rarely went home.

As the guiding beacon of the station, it was obvious he’d pick either editing or drinks.
Because that’s always how it went.
“Editing, I—”

And just as he began to answer…
Guru had wandered up beside him.
“Mistew, is Woojoo stiww sick today?”

“H-huh?”
It was like he snapped out of a dream. Seo PD blinked.
How was Woojoo doing?

He’d been so caught up in cutting the VCR for Jurim that he hadn’t gone home in days.
As Guru’s round eyes stared up, clearly expecting a reply, something in him faltered.
“I… I’m not sure. I’ve been busy lately, so I haven’t really been able to…”

His voice trailed off.
Lately?
That was just an excuse—something blurted out to cover up his guilt.
Truth was, he hadn’t known how Woojoo was doing for… how long had it even been?

Too long to count.
Jurim walked over to them, Guru still in his arms.
“Woojoo always plays so well with my daughter. We’re really grateful.”

“Oh… is that so? Our Woojoo…”
“Didn’t know, did you.”
Jurim’s reply was simple, but Seo PD’s face flushed red.

A woman who ignored the child at the amusement park. A father who sent the child there with her anyway.
Friends who constantly visited each other’s homes when not filming—but he didn’t even know who his kid was close to.
That interview earlier… it really was meant for him.

Looking squarely at him, Jurim spoke in a flat tone.
“Seems like the kid’s tired, so we’ll head out first. Thanks for today.”
With Guru in his arms, he stepped off set, moving past the staff scurrying to clean up.

Guru waved goodbye to the crew, then turned to look back at Producer Seo.
But Seo PD just stood there—completely dazed.
***

Woojoo shuffled out of bed, rubbing his eyes.
His fever hadn’t come down much.
Dad’s girlfriend had barely looked at him before leaving. The manager hyung was running around trying to find a pediatrician who could take him right away.

Lately, you had to literally “open-run” to get a doctor’s appointment—it was near impossible to find a clinic.
So Woojoo had to stay in the big, empty house alone.
Honestly, he hadn’t expected anything.

'Beep.'
Then the front door burst open—and his dad rushed in, out ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) of breath.
“Dad?”

He hadn’t expected this.
Seo PD had sprinted all the way, panting as he bent down and met Woojoo’s eyes.
“Woojoo… huff… you didn’t make it to daycare again today, huh. Ahem.”

Woojoo’s shoulders tensed like he’d been caught.
Did Guru tell him everything during the shoot?
“I’m fine. But Dad, aren’t you busy?”

“Yeah. Huff—super busy…”
Straightening up, Seo PD grimaced.
His kid stood there all alone in the huge living room.

Feverish sweat clung to his bangs. His pajamas were soaked.
The guilt twisted in his chest.
He’d left his son in this state… and almost gone off to film like it was fine?

And he’d thought that was lucky?
He felt like someone who’d finally shaken off a weird delusion and was seeing reality again.
“I am busy. But… you’re sick.”

“Huh?”
Woojoo stared, mouth agape.
That surprised look on his kid’s face twisted the knife even deeper.

“I think I’ve been thinking all wrong this whole time. Sending you the wrong message.”
Seo PD knelt in front of him, looked him in the eyes.
“You’re my top priority.”

Woojoo’s lips trembled. He lowered his gaze.
Those ticklish words… he didn’t know how to respond.
The lines he used to memorize so easily for drama shoots—he couldn’t remember a single one now.

“I wanted to become famous to help you… No, that’s just another excuse. I’m sorry.”
'That’s what I wanted to say.'
Woojoo bit back the words that rose to his throat, afraid he’d start crying.

'I wanted to become famous so I could help you too, Dad. That’s why I worked so hard. That’s why I tried to keep working even though I was sick. I just wanted you to notice.'
“I’ve really messed everything up… but I want to fix it. I’m so sorry.”
Woojoo pressed his lips together, then slowly muttered—using his illness as an excuse to say something he usually couldn’t:

“I… I was s-sick. Lately, I’ve had a fever all the time…”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize. I’m so, so sorry.”
Woojoo clamped his mouth shut again before finally replying.

“…It’s okay.”
Seo PD scooped him up and carried him back to bed.
“Think you can eat some porridge? I picked some up, just in case. Want me to heat it?”

Woojoo nodded.
His dad smiled, tucked him in tight up to his chin.
Just like Guru had said—it felt like worms were wriggling around in his chest. Or maybe fireworks popping.

One thing was certain—it made him happier than any acting award ever had.
'Even if I don’t become a success… you’ll still see me.'
His chest tickled. He kept giggling like he was about to sneeze as he pulled the covers over his head.

'I need to tell Guru right away!'
And that’s when it happened.
[Updating… 77%]

A strange message popped up in front of his eyes, blinking.
Woojoo blinked back.