Kiss the Scumbag-Chapter 1

Prologue

"Whose kid is that?"

A cold voice pierced his ears without warning. Yujin flinched, snapping back to reality. The gun barrel was still there. So was Winston’s icy face as he looked down on him, and the contempt in his eyes hadn’t changed at all. Realizing that he had sunk into some ridiculous delusion, Yujin was momentarily stunned and unsure how to respond. As he stood speechless, unable to come up with a reply, Winston sneered as if he had expected it.

"Of course you can’t answer."

A breath-like chuckle escaped his twisted lips.

"A filthy slut like you wouldn’t have a clue who the father is."

It felt like something sharp stabbed him right in the heart. Yujin could only stare at Winston, his face drained of all color.

It’s you.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His raw sincerity wandered, lost inside a throat sealed shut.

It’s you, Winston.

Still shocked and unable to speak, Yujin was met with Winston’s mocking tone as he smirked and said,

"Baby, no one knows what a filthy whore you are better than I do."

1

Cough, cough.

The harsh coughing shook his whole body. The lawyer stood silently with his back straight, unfazed. Haa, haa, the man wheezed shallow breaths, slumping with exhaustion. Around him lingered the sweet scent of a pheromone trait. It was the very scent that had lifted him to this position, given him everything—everything but the one thing he wanted most.

That scent was no longer intoxicating or potent. Now, it merely hovered faintly, just enough to remind one of its presence. It resembled the scent of death. The man, wheezing with a grating breath, opened his mouth with a rough and hoarse voice.

"Not... much longer, right?"

Another wet, metallic rattle escaped his throat. The physician standing beside the bed looked down at him in silence. Waiting for the coughing to subside, the lawyer finally spoke.

"Are you ready?"

At the quiet question, the man coughed twice more, then gave a slow nod. As if it were a signal, the physician asked him a series of questions. After receiving answers, he turned to the lawyer and spoke.

"Mr. Campbell is fully conscious. His pheromone levels are also lower than usual."

It wasn’t uncommon for Extreme Alphas to suffer brain deterioration due to excessive pheromones. But Harold Campbell, despite his weakened body, was mentally sharp.

"Of course I am. I’ve never had such clarity in my life."

With a voice rough like scraped iron, the master of the estate responded without hesitation. The lawyer and physician looked at him without a word. Harold Campbell was only in his early seventies. Even so, he didn’t have much time left.

Given the Extreme Alpha trait—higher immunity, slower aging, longer lifespan—his condition was rare. Perhaps it was the price for being the only one in the family born with an almost mutated version of the trait. The pheromones that had ruled him for decades had finally bowed before death. For the first time in his life, Harold felt liberated. Soon, he would be free of his diseased, heavy body too.

Harold coughed again. The lawyer, confirming that everything, including the physician’s statements, was being recorded properly, opened his mouth.

"This will was prepared in advance according to Mr. Harold Campbell’s instructions. Dr. Wilson has confirmed Mr. Campbell is of sound mind. Two additional doctors have verified his mental state, and their certificates will be appended to the will. Now then, Mr. Campbell, please read the will aloud."

Having recited the formal script like a machine, changing only the client’s name and a few words, the lawyer handed over the pre-written will and stepped aside. Harold took a breath, forced himself upright, and sank back into the large pillows before barely opening his mouth.

"I, Harold Campbell, write this will of sound mind on the eve of my death. It shall be carried out under the legal supervision of Attorney McCoy without error."

He coughed several times after the long statement, then steadied his breath and continued reading.

"To Camellia, who shared her life with me—you gave me four children who are like treasures."

In a voice that rang surprisingly clear, Harold began listing what each of them would receive. His wife, Camellia, would receive a monthly allowance of one million dollars for life, unless she remarries. His only daughter and eldest child, Katherine, would receive ten million dollars in cash and all the family horses. The eldest son, Gordon, would also receive ten million dollars and the family villa and land in Malibu. The third child, Jason, would receive a monthly allowance of one hundred thousand dollars, but only if he continues regular addiction treatment. Should he stop or relapse, the payments will be suspended until he is discharged from a specialized facility after receiving intensive care.

He barely managed to speak this far, occasionally interrupted by rough coughing, then gestured to the physician for water. Only after draining the glass did Harold, gasping for air, continue.

"And to Winston, my beloved youngest son."

The son he loved most. The one who resembled him the most. The most exceptional of all his children. As he pictured Winston’s cold violet eyes—the only one who shared his trait—Harold spoke in a trembling voice.

"To you, I leave..."

2

Yujin is coming back.

The moment the news broke, the Campbell family was thrown into chaos. Lady Katherine, who often fainted without warning, once again lost consciousness for exactly 34 seconds. Her husband George laid her on the sofa and fanned her with a handkerchief, barely stopping himself from cursing, muttering only one word: "Damn."

Camellia Campbell, always composed and cool-headed, sat with her back straight and appeared calm. But inwardly, she was wishing she could just faint like her overly sensitive daughter—because that’s how terrible she felt.

Katherine’s teenage daughter, Georgina, sat apart from the others, sipping her tea and observing the adults with great interest. As always during moments like these, Uncle Gordon spoke up first, raising his voice to claim the floor.

"Why the hell is that trashy bastard coming here? After disgracing the family name, now this?"

From the couch, Lady Katherine groaned dramatically and added,

"That boy is a disgrace just for existing."

The real disgrace, Georgina thought, was that Grandpa brought home a much younger Asian boy as a lover at his age—but wisely, she kept that to herself and quietly sipped her tea. It had been so long since she last heard the name Yujin that she wasn’t even sure if it had been five or six years since he left. That weirdo who lived in the annex. That was all she remembered. She’d later been told he was some distant cousin so far removed it [N O V E L I G H T] barely mattered. But what was certain: not a single person in the family had ever considered him part of it. Everyone assumed the whole “distant cousin” excuse was one of Harold Campbell’s lies to save face.

The truth was that he was Harold’s hidden lover.

Throughout his stay at the estate, he had never been welcomed. When Yujin left, the entire family had practically thrown a party.

And now, he was coming back. Of course no one was happy. Trash that had been barely cleaned out of sight was now crawling back. Everyone felt the same revulsion. Georgina, watching the adults veil their disgust, feigned innocence as she sipped her tea. But George, unable to contain his anger in front of his teenage daughter, finally exploded.