My Soul card is a Reaper

The style did resemble Krakkan's previous releases. Organized. Thorough. Brutally comprehensive.

But something felt… restrained.

"It's not destructive enough," one well-known cybersecurity blogger commented. "Krakkan doesn't blur names. He doesn't care about collateral damage. And he certainly doesn't stay anonymous."

This exposé had blacked out identities in the public version.

Too cautious.

Too controlled.

The hacker community reached a consensus.

Not Krakkan.

Not KeymonSTER.

Someone else.

Meanwhile, the general public treated the blacked-out names like a national puzzle game. Social media turned into a guessing battlefield. Amateur detectives compared timelines, scandals, and old rumors. Hashtags trended hourly.

The celebrities implicated in the files reacted in very different ways.

Those who had paid hush money were horrified. Their quiet settlements had just been dragged back into daylight.

Those who had refused to pay, or who had been smeared publicly in the past, stepped forward.

They were furious.

Many had lost endorsements. Careers. Reputations. Some had withdrawn from the industry entirely.

Now, with the evidence exposed, lawsuits began pouring in.

Libel.

Extortion.

Corruption.

Invasion of privacy.

Trespassing.

Within days, the tabloid was drowning.

The police responded with unusual speed. Key figures were arrested almost immediately. It soon became known that the Police Chief himself had taken personal interest in the case.

In a brief statement, he revealed that authorities possessed a complete version of the exposé—names included.

The press salivated.

And then, before the frenzy could settle, a new announcement redirected the spotlight.

Zhang Fu, heir of Zhang Industries, would hold a press conference.

***

Only a modest number of reporters showed up.

The Zhang family was wealthy, yes, but not at the same tier of influence as the Jins, Lus, or especially the Fengs. To most media outlets, the Zhangs were respectable—but not headline-dominating.

"What is this about?" one reporter muttered. "A business merger? An engagement?"

"Could've just sent a press release," another grumbled. "They think too highly of themselves."

Still, cameras were set up.

Zhang Fu stood behind the podium in a sharp business suit, composed but inwardly tight with tension. This was the first time he would speak publicly about something deeply personal.

Earlier that morning, he had called Song Yuqing.

He had expected resistance.

Instead, she had agreed.

"If you announce that Little Fei is your son," she told him quietly, "then the rumors about Xiulan will stop."

He had sulked briefly at that.

Even without her permission, he would have done it. But he had wanted her support. Perhaps even gratitude.

"Does your family know?" she had asked cautiously.

"Father approved."

"Only your father?"

He hesitated but nodded. "Yes."

Silence lingered on the line.

"At least he approved," she said finally.

Then her voice softened, trembling slightly. "Zhang Fu… please protect our son. I know we're not… suitable in their eyes. But don't let them hurt him. I can't bear it."

His chest tightened. "What are you talking about? Who would hurt him?"

"Just promise me."

"I promise," he said firmly. "He's my son."

After the call ended, unease lingered.

He had seen the elders' prejudice firsthand.

But now, standing before cameras, there was no room for doubt.

He cleared his mind.

***

Dragon Palace Home #10

A minor news channel broadcast the press conference live.

On the couch, Elena rested her head against Jin Di's shoulder. Little Fei sat on Jin Di's lap, happily absorbed in a toy gifted by Great-Grandpa Lu.

Song Yuqing sat opposite them, posture straight, expression neutral. Only her eyes betrayed tension.

Zhang Fu appeared on screen, poised and composed.

"Good afternoon. My name is Zhang Fu," he began. "I am also Elena Zhang's eldest brother."

The reporters shifted, mildly interested.

"I am here today to clarify a recent tabloid rumor."

Cameras lifted.

"The child photographed with my sister is my son. He is my biological son. My own flesh and blood."

Flashbulbs exploded.

"He is not the child of my sister Elena Zhang and not the son of the celebrity Jin Yang."

The reporters straightened fully now.

"My son resembles my sister because he is her nephew. She is also his godmother, which is why he calls her 'Mama.'"

He paused deliberately.

"My sister was never pregnant. During the time implied by these rumors, she was in a coma. The allegations are completely false."

His tone sharpened.

"Stop spreading lies about my sister and my son."

He stepped back from the podium.

"That is all I wish to clarify."

In the mansion, silence lingered for several seconds after the broadcast ended.

Little Fei, blissfully unaware of the storm swirling around his name, babbled happily at his toy.

Elena looked at the screen, eyes unreadable.

Jin Di's arm tightened slightly around her shoulders.

Across from them, Song Yuqing closed her eyes briefly.

*

"The floor is now open for questions."

The host barely finished the sentence before every reporter's hand shot up.

A moment ago, they had looked bored.

Now they leaned forward like hunters catching scent.

Zhang Fu inhaled slowly.

Keep steady.

"Mr. Zhang," one reporter called out immediately, "are you married? If so, was it kept secret from the public?"

"No," Zhang Fu replied evenly. "I am not married."

"So your child is illegitimate?"

The word landed heavily.

For a split second, fury surged through him so violently that his vision almost narrowed. He imagined walking down from the podium and introducing his fist to the reporter's smug face.

Instead, he exhaled.

"Yes," he said calmly.

Then, firmly, he added, "But that may change in the future if his mother agrees to marry me."

That shifted the energy instantly.

Reporters straightened. Pens hovered mid-air.

"You proposed, and she rejected you? There's a woman who refused to marry the heir of the Zhang family? Who is she? Can you reveal her identity?"

A faint smile touched his lips.

"My son's mother is a beautiful, intelligent, and strong woman," he said deliberately. "I'm grateful she is the mother of my child. Things didn't work out between us before, but I'm willing to try again. I hope one day she will accept my proposal. I want my son—and her—to be proud members of the Zhang family."

He looked straight into the camera.

Not at the reporters.

At her.

He knew she would be watching.

The reporters were visibly dissatisfied.

No name.

No scandal.

No exposed lover.

They tried again from different angles, but he refused to budge. Every answer returned praise. Respect. Gratitude.

Finally, they shifted focus.

"Mr. Zhang, since your sister is your son's godmother, does that mean you're close? There were rumors that Elena Zhang was estranged from the Zhang family. Is that still true?"

He paused, choosing his words carefully.

"Yes, my youngest sister and I have grown closer recently," he said. "She sees my son and his mother regularly. They're very close. That's why my son calls her Mama. She loves him like her own. I'm very thankful for that."

He continued, voice steady.

"There were misunderstandings in the past. What family is perfect in this world? But at the end of the day, we are family. We are of the same blood. She is always welcome at home. She visits our father."

The reporters searched his expression for cracks.

There were none.

No family feud.

No bitterness.

After several more attempts to provoke something dramatic, the press conference concluded.

The reporters rushed out, already editing headlines in their minds. The event had been far juicier than expected.

As for Zhang Fu, relief settled over him like a heavy coat finally removed.

The burden he had carried since the scandal broke felt lighter.

The elders would be furious.

He didn't care.

Their discrimination against his son had already planted resentment in his chest. Now that he had spoken publicly, there was no going back.

And in that quiet aftermath, another realization surfaced.

He had never defended his illegitimate siblings before.

He had watched.

He had stayed silent.

Now he understood what that silence must have felt like.

That would change.

More than anything, he was grateful for his father's support. Long Tengfei's approval had been the pillar beneath today's announcement.

He pulled out his phone briefly.

No new message.

He wondered if she had watched.

***

Dragon Palace Home #10

On the couch, Elena leaned comfortably against Jin Di's shoulder as the broadcast ended.

Little Fei bounced excitedly on Jin Di's lap.

"Dada! Dada!" he squealed, pointing at the screen.

"Yes," Elena said softly. "That's your daddy."

The toddler clapped, delighted.

Jin Di gently steadied him, hand resting protectively against the small back.

Across the room, Simon sprang up dramatically.

"Oh wow! That was romantic!" he cried, fanning himself. "Big Brother Boss just declared to the whole country that he wants to marry you, Big Sis Yuqing! He looked so sincere! Why are you not already marrying him?"

Song Yuqing remained seated.

Her mask concealed half her face, but her eyes betrayed everything.

They were fixed on the blank screen, as if the image of Zhang Fu still lingered there.

Longing.

Hurt.

Humiliation.

Her hands clenched tightly in the fabric of her pants.

For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to stand beside him openly.