UR Chapter 69

Chapter 69

The man in his memory had smiled warmly, endlessly offering I-bom food. Was he cold, was he hungry, what kind of food did he like?

Instead of sitting across from him and talking about family matters like most blind dates, he’d treated him like a teacher at a day-care center for the day—asking question after question in a careful attempt to win his favor.

I-bom had simply been impressed, thinking the man was a mature and decent person. And yet now Soo-hyun was asking if he’d performed sexual favors for money. For someone who had lived his life honestly, hearing such vulgar words—words that were embarrassing even to repeat—was like having cold water dumped over his head. He felt his blood chill without realizing it.

“Apologize, hyung.”

—Apologize? For what?

Soo-hyun scoffed with a mocking laugh.

—Just tell me the truth here, I won’t tell your grandmother. You slept with him, didn’t you?

If the question had been whether his heart had raced, he couldn’t deny it. The man had been his ideal type, and just meeting his gaze had made his chest flutter. But they hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers—only held hands briefly before parting. He had liked the man, yes, but nothing had gone beyond that, and certainly not to the extent Soo-hyun was suggesting. He was innocent.

“…Is that really all you can think about, hyung?”

—That guy’s an executive at Samho Group. Don’t tell me you didn’t know? He showed me his business card.

There wasn’t a person in Korea who didn’t know Samho Group. They made everything from refrigerators to cars to shoes. Even the Happy Convenience Store where I-bom worked was a subsidiary of the conglomerate. But what made Samho Group most famous was that every member of the owner’s family was a pureblood tiger beastman.

—So of course you were drawn to him. I get it. Honestly, if you could seduce him and get into his bed, it’d be a pretty good deal. You didn’t want to hand him over to me, so you thought you’d steal him for yourself. You didn’t call me yesterday, so it’s obvious.

Soo-hyun was practically spinning a novel. I-bom could sense the heat in his voice even over the phone. Whether he liked it or not, the call was only happening because of their debt arrangement, but listening to this nonsense felt like nothing but a waste of time.

“…Hyung. I knew he was a tiger beastman, but this is the first time I’m hearing he’s an executive at Samho Group. I didn’t do anything except what I told you. And the reason I didn’t contact you yesterday is because I collapsed from feeling unwell. Anyway, if an executive from Samho came looking for you, I guess congratulations are in order. That’s it. Don’t take it out on me—go and explain yesterday’s situation to him yourself.”

—Hey, Kang I-bom!

I-bom let out a deep sigh. An apology wasn’t coming, and staying on the line any longer would only mean hearing more absurd accusations.

“I’m hanging up now,” he said coldly, and ended the call.

* * *

“…”

I-bom gave his head a light shake to clear away stray thoughts, then quickened his pace. Moving briskly made the tears retreat. He wanted to grieve freely, but grieving was a luxury reserved for people with plenty of time. He had no time to cry—he still had to finish salting the cabbages he and I-seol had left halfway, and prepare the vegetables and seasoning to mix with the kimchi.

I-bom had never been the type to feel deep dissatisfaction with his life or circumstances like Soo-hyun or I-jun. While those two often boasted about wanting a rich lover, hitting it big with cryptocurrency, or making a fortune in stocks, I-bom simply preferred working and living diligently. He’d been born with a steady temperament.

The reason he couldn’t save money was because of I-jun. Every time he managed to set some aside, I-jun would cause trouble, and all his hard work would collapse like a sandcastle. If he could save up, he could worry less about his grandmother’s hospital bills, buy clothes for I-seol, and even send her to academy classes.

He did have those small regrets, but as for wanting to “snag a rich person to change his life,” as Soo-hyun had said, that had never crossed his mind. He simply didn’t understand why Soo-hyun would say such insulting things. Or maybe, in a way, it was better—at least now the man had revealed exactly what he thought.

“Ah, I should return these clothes…”

As he wiped his hands after salting the cabbages, his eyes fell on the clothes hanging from a rack: a worn duffle coat and a brightly colored plaid flannel shirt—Soo-hyun’s clothes, the ones he’d borrowed for the blind date.

Even if he’d rummaged through his own closet, he probably could have found something similar, but Soo-hyun had deliberately snuck his uncle’s clothes to lend him instead, claiming they were even tackier than I-bom’s.

Either way, they were borrowed, so argument or not, I-bom figured he should return them quickly.

He crossed his arms and looked down at the shirt and duffle coat. The duffle coat was in such a tattered state that it felt like it might fall apart if touched carelessly. It looked like something pulled straight from a clothing recycling bin.

The shirt was the tricky part. Thinking back, yesterday he’d been out in the snow and worked up a sweat. The damp patches had dried and weren’t visible now, but storing it like that after absorbing snow’s moisture was sure to make it smell later.

“…It’ll smell if I don’t wash it, right?”

Sniff, sniff. I-bom brought the shirt close to his nose.

Somehow, the faint scent of his own body had seeped into it, mixed with the musty dampness from the snow.

“No, this won’t do. I’d better wash it.”

Shaking his head, he carefully folded the shirt. He would’ve preferred to just return it unwashed, but he couldn’t hand back clothes that smelled faintly odd from being out in the snow.

Gripping the stiff winter flannel by the shoulders, he gave it a firm shake. With a sharp thwack, something fluttered down from the fabric.

“What’s that…?”

A feather? He muttered to himself as he reached down. It wasn’t a feather—it was a small clump of light-colored fur, streaked with orange and black.

Someone with poor eyesight might have mistaken it for dust and overlooked it—it was that tiny.

‘Almost missed it…’

He picked it up carefully. The fine hairs swayed like dandelion fluff in the air, caught by his breath, before settling back against his fingers.

He stared at the clump. It was definitely animal fur.

‘…Whose fur is this?’

He thought about whose it could be.

‘This shirt… it’s my uncle’s. The worst dresser in the family, in my opinion. Never married, just keeps hamsters. He said this shirt is from, what, ten years ago? Wore it once on a blind date and got dumped because the outfit was so awful.’

Since he kept hamsters, maybe it was hamster fur? But there was too much of it for that. And this shirt hadn’t been worn in ten years—there was no way such glossy, freshly-shed fluff could have stayed stuck to it that long.

‘So it’s not hamster fur…’

It wasn’t his own hair, either—animal fur and human hair felt completely different to the touch. But maybe that was a silly thought.

‘It’s not like I shed it…’

That left only one conclusion: among the people he’d met recently, there was one who could have left fur on his clothes.

‘No way…’

Ordinary beastmen could only partially transform into their animal form. But for pureblood beastmen, it was different—they could transform fully into their beast body.

And unlike canid animals, whose fur only came out in clumps when brushed, felines shed fine, dandelion-like hairs that floated with every breath.

‘Then this is… tiger fur?’

He brought it carefully to his nose.

‘Tigers shed, too…’

The man’s refined face flashed vividly in his mind—wearing a perfectly fitted suit, smiling softly as he cut his steak. Thinking that such a spotless man was a tiger, and that with each movement, his fur had floated and clung to I-bom’s clothes, gave him a strange feeling.

“I wonder… what his real form looks like.”

What would his tiger form be like? This tiny tuft of fur probably wouldn’t smell like a tiger, but part of him was curious to see if it carried a distinct scent.

Would it look weird if someone saw him sniffing a handful of shed fur? Glancing around, he cautiously drew in a breath.

Sniff. Warm air stirred at his nose, making the fluffy strands sway. It was a very odd feeling.

‘Too precious to throw away…’

Looking around for a place to keep it, he spotted an envelope tossed on the living room floor—one I-seol had brought home from school. Gently, he slipped the tiger fur inside.

They said tiger fur brought good luck. So, like tucking away a bit of warmth in a cold corner of his heart, he would keep it hidden safe.