CRT Ch 18

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The ramen Yejun ate with Cha Yilhyun the previous day had made him terribly sick. Yejun spent the entire day vomiting and was rushed to the emergency room, only regaining his strength around noon. He had never missed an acting class, no matter the circumstances, but today was his first absence. Instead, his acting teacher, now a follower, promised to provide special tutoring in the evening.

The contract deposit had come in. Yejun decided to pay off part of his debt to Yoon Inoh and use the remaining money to buy Seok Ryu a new phone.

On their way out, Yejun chattered excitedly about his adventures with the CEO the day before. He mentioned how Cha Yilhyun didn’t eat kimchi with his ramen, how he did the dishes himself, and how he personally hammered nails to hang the large puzzle before leaving.

Seok Ryu couldn’t look Yejun in the eye the entire time. He had stayed up all night trying to erase Cha Yilhyun’s lingering scent from the room. No matter how much he scrubbed, he kept imagining the smell was still there. He felt like he wouldn’t be able to touch the doorknob or the light switch for a while.

At the outdoor café of the officetel, actors greeted Yejun warmly. Some offered drinks as tributes, and others exchanged contact information. The reason these people, who usually ignored or looked down on Yejun, had suddenly changed their attitude was obvious.

“It seems the news about the rights has spread.”

“Oh…”

Moreover, the incident at the banquet had been distorted, and rumors were circulating that Yejun was the one who had put Yoon Inoh in his place. Actors who had been humiliated by Yoon Inoh’s demands for apology letters instantly became Yejun’s ardent fans. As if suddenly remembering, Yejun asked, “By the way, is your head okay? It must be inconvenient not being able to go to the hospital freely.”

“The bleeding has stopped, so I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt either.”

“I’m not jealous of much about you guys, but not feeling pain is something I really envy.”

Seok Ryu gave a faint smile. At first, masters were in awe of guardian stones for their beautiful appearances and mysterious abilities. But when they realized the life of a guardian stone wasn’t so glamorous, their feelings often shifted. They would either deeply pity their gem or see it as a burden.

Yejun’s steps were light as he left the bank. Though he was broke again, he seemed relieved. At a crosswalk, someone recognized Yejun and asked for an autograph and a photo. Yejun’s expression was a mix of shyness and joy.

“It’s my first time getting asked for an autograph.”

They bought a phone for Seok Ryu at a store near the officetel. They also stopped by a stationery shop to get a leather cord and clasp for the choker. Yejun hopped down the shop’s stairs and held out his hand to Seok Ryu.

“Can I see your phone?”

“Sure.”

Seok Ryu handed over the silver phone Yejun had bought him. Yejun shook his head.

“No, no—the phone the CEO gave you. You always keep it in your pocket.”

A chill ran down Seok Ryu’s spine. He thought Yejun didn’t know since he kept it powered off. Seok Ryu pulled the wine-red phone from his pocket and handed it to Yejun. Everything a guardian stone possessed belonged to the master; if Yejun demanded his heart, Seok Ryu would have to offer it. The fleeting sense of having something taken was disconcerting.

Satisfied that his guardian stone had passed the test, Yejun finally grinned.

“I was just kidding. Why would I take what’s yours?”

Yejun strode ahead with a lively gait. Seok Ryu stood still, holding the phone, staring blankly.

“Wow, a hot star in real-time.”

As they passed the officetel’s outdoor café, the atmosphere was completely different from before. Just thirty minutes earlier, the actors had been friendly, but now they wore mocking expressions toward Yejun. Having served many masters and encountered all sorts of people, Seok Ryu had never seen such fickle behavior.

When they stepped out of the elevator, Manager Byun was pacing in front of their door. Yejun lit up and rushed to him.

“Manager, how did you come by without calling?”

Manager Byun barely acknowledged Yejun’s greeting, his face contorted.

“You’re not the one who spread those photos, are you?”

“Photos…?”

“The photos of Yoon Inoh before his surgery!”

Yejun’s face turned ashen. Photos of Yoon Inoh before surgery, and Yejun spreading them? It was all news to Seok Ryu. Manager Byun clutched his hair.

“Your name is trending in real-time searches, and it’s a mess!”

[Exclusive] The True Culprit Behind Spreading ‘Yoon Inoh’s Pre-Surgery Photos’ Is a Fellow Actor? A Devastated Yoon Inoh Shares ‘Heartfelt Grief’

D—day | Reporter Hwang Kwangil

Yoon Inoh burst onto the scene like a comet, earning the title of Asia’s Prince as the ‘World’s Most Beautiful Face.’ He built an unbeatable drama legacy, and products he endorsed sold out, creating a frenzy. The so-called ‘Yoon Inoh pre-surgery photos’ circulated, but the controversy was dismissed as malicious edits by anti-fans.

Recently, an anonymous tip regarding this hater surfaced. The tipster claimed to have found critical clues in the ID and comments of a hater on a past Yoon Inoh article.

1ya32p💎💎*

—Disgusting bastard, that’s not even your real face. Bet the XXX Assemblyman sponsoring you has seen your real face too. Must make him sick in bed.

1ya32p💎💎*

—Nice job scrubbing your past. I’ve got all your old photos. Should I release them?

The tipster also shockingly revealed that the person spreading the ‘Yoon Inoh pre-surgery photos’ was a fellow actor from the same agency, recently embroiled in controversy over an exclusive contract with Songhyul.

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The article’s comments exploded past tens of thousands in less than half a day. Following D-Day’s lead, related articles flooded the internet.

The tipster discovered that the ID of the person who first posted the ‘Yoon Inoh pre-surgery photos’ matched the last three digits of the hater’s ID and scoured every site. They found Yejun’s name on a secondhand trading café, gaining certainty.

D-Day’s exclusive included a full interview with Yoon Inoh, who revealed he had contemplated suicide due to the surgery rumors, further fueling public outrage.

Late in the afternoon, Director Kwak summoned Seok Ryu and Yejun to Songhyul’s headquarters. The sudden crisis sent the PR and response teams into a panic. Reporters and Yoon Inoh’s fans camped out at the building’s entrance.

As Seok Ryu and Yejun stepped out of the van, curses and eggs flew from all directions. The eggs, tampered with, reeked of rot. Manager Byun fought through reporters to clear a path, and Seok Ryu draped a coat over Yejun, rushing him to the entrance.

“Did you spread those photos?”

Director Kwak threw a stack of printed articles onto his desk. Sitting on the sofa, he popped three headache pills into his mouth. Yejun trembled, unable to respond. Manager Byun sweated, trying to calm the terrified Yejun.

“Tell the director the truth so we can survive. The CEO’s an expert in this, he’ll protect you!”

Director Kwak issued an ultimatum.

“I’m asking one last time. Was it you?”

Yejun could barely breathe. Director Kwak stared coldly, then gave a short laugh.

“Fine, keep your mouth shut like that, even when reporters hound you.”

His gaze shifted to Seok Ryu.

“Did you know? Or not?”

Regardless of Seok Ryu’s answer, Director Kwak was ready to tear into him. Serving a master often stressed followers to the brink, and they vented their anger on Seok Ryu. Especially someone like Director Kwak, compatible with diamonds, couldn’t tolerate damage to his reputation.

Seok Ryu looked at Director Kwak with emotionless eyes.

“Whether I knew or not, why does it matter?”

“Because your neck’s on the line, you useless bastard.”

“The one with the authority to cut my neck isn’t you, Director Kwak.”

“What?”

He let out a hollow laugh, his eyes twitching. Seok Ryu continued.

“You’re the one who needs to prove your worth, Director. Instead of taking it out on a mere trainee, think of a plan to save Yejun.”

Sparks flashed in Director Kwak’s eyes.

Thwack———!! Thwack———!!

Director Kwak struck Seok Ryu’s head and shoulder with a file folder. Papers crumpled and tore, scattering in the air. Yejun turned pale, as if he were the one hit.

Director Kwak pressed the folder’s edge into Seok Ryu’s shoulder, pushing him back until he staggered.

“When this is over, you’d better be ready, you filthy bastard.”

As they left the office, Yejun collapsed on the floor, swallowing sobs. Yoon Inoh’s manager, Manager Jang, arrived with a stern face. When Manager Byun grabbed Jang’s collar, staff rushed to intervene. The hallway became a battlefield.

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Whoosh———

In the bathroom, Seok Ryu washed the egg-stained hair and shirt and dried them with a hand dryer. His cheek and neck stung, likely scratched by paper. The barely healed head wound burned again. He pulled the ointment from his pocket and applied it to his scalp and scratches. The ointment Cha Yilhyun sent via drone wasn’t as talkative as the garnet necklace, so he decided to use it.

Leaving the bathroom, he headed to the vending machine in the center of the hallway. The early autumn night air was chilly. Yejun wanted to treat his followers to drinks. Seok Ryu selected ginseng-flavored energy drinks. Cans clattered into the tray, and he packed them into a bag. Sitting on the floor, he leaned against the machine, catching his breath.

Who spread the photos didn’t matter to Seok Ryu. Even if Yejun committed murder, his loyalty would remain unshaken. But he wanted to know Yejun’s heart. Was Seok Ryu doing well? Did Yejun still feel glad to have met him?

With no idea what might come tomorrow, he jotted down essentials in his notebook: spare clothes, an umbrella, a raincoat, a helmet.

Yoon Inoh had sued those who spread the ‘maliciously edited photos’ and the haters. Given the issue’s prominence, an investigation would start soon, and finding the culprit was only a matter of time. If caught, Yejun would lose the role of Biryu and his acting career.

Despite the PR and response teams’ efforts, public anger didn’t subside. Trash, vermin, kill yourself—insults poured in.

Seok Ryu couldn’t understand why people, unrelated to Yoon Inoh, tore into Yejun like sworn enemies. Yet their vivid hatred and fanatical passion weren’t fake emotions reliant on memory. He envied those who hated for hate’s sake and loved for love’s sake.

Past bedtime, he rubbed his puffy eyes. As he grew drowsy, footsteps echoed in the hallway, followed by heavy breathing.

“Director Kwak’s super sensitive right now. I’m not sure if it’s okay to barge in,” someone said with a nervous laugh.

“Will he freak out if we go now?”

“Totally.”

“Let’s hurry.”

The sound of quickening footsteps stopped abruptly. When Seok Ryu turned, Cha Yilhyun stood at the dimly lit hallway intersection. His rolled-up sleeves and loose tie suggested he’d been working overnight. Oddly, Cha Yilhyun always appeared when Seok Ryu faced something sigh-worthy. Now, every sigh would remind him of Cha Yilhyun.

Cha Yilhyun changed direction and walked toward Seok Ryu. Secretary Yang, trailing behind, spotted Seok Ryu and waved playfully, belying his large frame. Seok Ryu stood, clutching the bag of drinks. Yejun’s controversy must have reached Cha Yilhyun’s ears. His presence at the company this late suggested the situation was more serious than expected.

Cha Yilhyun stopped in front of Seok Ryu, his steps slow. He glanced at Seok Ryu’s neck, as if searching for something. Seeing only the choker, his gaze darkened.

“Not the garnet necklace…”

He muttered something incomprehensible and asked no more. Seok Ryu looked up at him.

“There’s no proof Yejun did it, so don’t misunderstand.”

“Proof doesn’t matter. The damage is what counts.”

Suddenly, Cha Yilhyun touched Seok Ryu’s chin, grazing a scratch from Director Kwak’s papers. He crossed his arms and leaned against the vending machine.

“How’s your head?”

The unexpected question softened Seok Ryu’s eyes.

“I went to the hospital, and it’s healed. What’s going to happen to Yejun?”

“He’ll have to handle it himself. Can I check your head?”

Seok Ryu stepped back, signaling refusal. Something about Cha Yilhyun’s tone felt off.

“I thought you were working late because of Yejun’s issue.”

Cha Yilhyun’s brow furrowed.

“Why would I?”

“Well, Yejun secured the rights, so you should protect him.”

“What does this have to do with the rights?”

At times, it was hard to tell if he was truly clueless or just heartless.

“Then at least give us guidelines for handling the controversy. I heard you’re an expert in this.”

“They’ll have to endure until public interest dies down.”

“Is it okay for the CEO to be so irresponsible?”

According to Manager Byun, Lee Taeon had nearly lost his acting career once. A staff member secretly filmed Lee Taeon berating an elderly supporting actor, and with additional witness accounts, public outrage nearly got him blacklisted. Cha Yilhyun had diverted attention by leaking a cohabitation scandal involving a Winple actor.

Seok Ryu had hoped Cha Yilhyun would resolve this too, but he shattered those expectations. If he wouldn’t cooperate, only one option remained.

A day had passed since the last attempt, more than enough time for a reset. In this dire crisis, success was critical. Seok Ryu took a deep breath and locked eyes with Cha Yilhyun, who met his gaze.

“Another staring contest, huh?”

Cha Yilhyun leaned in, aligning their eye levels. His moist gaze boldly pressed forward, nearly overwhelming Seok Ryu. Regaining focus, Seok Ryu glared fiercely. As expected, even when Seok Ryu’s eyes reddened and tears fell, Cha Yilhyun showed no reaction. Trying again, his stinging eyes forced a blink.

In that moment, Cha Yilhyun tilted his head. He cupped Seok Ryu’s neck and pressed their lips together deeply. Seok Ryu nearly dropped the bag. Cha Yilhyun teased the thin membrane of Seok Ryu’s lips with the underside of his tongue, then drew it in, wrapping it softly with his own. The sensation of their mucous membranes rubbing made Seok Ryu’s shoulders shrink.

Pulling back slightly, Cha Yilhyun lifted his eyelids. His heated eyes pierced Seok Ryu directly.

“I win again.”

His lips glistened with unclaimed saliva. Seok Ryu stood frozen, unable to flee or push him away. Belatedly, he covered his lips with the back of his hand, staggering against the wall. Hidden by the vending machine, Secretary Yang was oblivious.

Cha Yilhyun sat Seok Ryu on a nearby chair and took the bag of drinks.

“Come to my office later to apply ointment.”

Seok Ryu didn’t mention he had ointment in his pocket. From a distance, Secretary Yang looked disappointed.

“Not going to Director Kwak?”

“What’s the point of watching an old man throw a tantrum?”

Cha Yilhyun instructed Secretary Yang to keep an eye on Seok Ryu and strode to the end of the hallway.

Seok Ryu knew he’d failed again. Even with a fifty-percent success rate, failing dozens of times in a row was statistically absurd. Now, Cha Yilhyun’s identity scared him more than a downgraded success rate.

If he truly had garnet antibodies, it was no small matter. It seemed he’d need to consult Heewan about Cha Yilhyun.

Thanks to Cha Yilhyun volunteering to carry the drinks, Seok Ryu was spared from prickly staff for a while. He massaged his stiff legs, sore from running all day.

Secretary Yang shuffled over and stood before Seok Ryu. Giving up on escaping, Seok Ryu relaxed. An awkward silence passed as they stared at each other. Seeing Secretary Yang sparked an idea.

If he doped Secretary Yang, could he extract valuable information? After failing with Cha Yilhyun and lacking recent successes, Seok Ryu was desperate to deliver someone. He looked up, meeting Secretary Yang’s eyes. First, he needed to gauge the man.

“How long have you worked under the CEO?”

“Two months now. The previous guy got fed up with the CEO and ghosted, so I stepped in. My dad’s friend’s son is the HR team leader, so I got lucky. Haha.”

Secretary Yang rambled on with trivial stories. A secretary of just two months wouldn’t know much. Moreover, someone so talkative couldn’t distinguish what to say or not, making him more harmful than helpful to Yejun. No matter how desperate, Secretary Yang wasn’t the one. Seok Ryu averted his gaze.

Narrowly escaping the net, Secretary Yang, parched from chatting, grabbed a canned drink. He wiped the residue from his mouth with the back of his hand. Seok Ryu had always felt he was better suited to being served than serving.

“Wouldn’t it be better to maintain some dignity?”

“Huh?”

“Drinking from a can like that—pour it into a glass.”

“There’s no cup, and I’m so thirsty…”

Secretary Yang wiped the drink from his hand on his pants.

“Even now, a handkerchief would look better than your bare hand. Your size makes you seem intimidating with slight movements, so use props to project restraint. Why do you waddle like that?”

“When I worked at my dad’s shop, I carried heavy stuff and got a disc issue. I’ve been treating it, but it’s not healing well.”

“All excuses. Isn’t self-management essential for a secretary?”

The smile vanished from Secretary Yang’s face. He glanced desperately toward the hallway where Cha Yilhyun had disappeared.

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Cha Yilhyun sipped a canned drink as he walked down the hallway. The bitter taste made him grimace, and he tossed it into a trash can, quickening his pace.

He savored the lingering feel of Seok Ryu’s lips. Seok Ryu’s presence turned nearby creatures into lascivious tools. If Seok Ryu were naked inside the vending machine, Cha Yilhyun would insert a coin and press the button. A spicy Seok Ryu would roll out, and he’d consume every drop of that glistening flesh.

He reached the PR team’s office, still lit late at night. As he pushed the door open, the sound of frantic typing echoed.

“The trainee went to get drinks ages ago and still hasn’t shown up?”

Another voice cut in.

“Forget drinks, I wish he’d disappear forever. When Director Kwak hit him earlier, it was so satisfying.”

“I’ve never seen someone with a good first impression last, but that guy gets worse. Just make one mistake, and he’s done!”

Manager Byun, legs crossed, chimed in. Someone cautiously spoke up.

“I hate to say this, but… I saw something weird.”

“What? Spill it.”

Everyone leaned in.

“A while back, I was smoking on the emergency stairs and saw Yoo, the assistant, confessing to someone. I peeked to tease him, and guess who it was? The trainee manager.”

Gasps filled the room.

“I heard something similar. There were weird noises in the bathroom, and I saw the trainee with someone…”

Everyone piled on, badmouthing the trainee manager. Manager Byun, excited, raised his voice.

“That guy doesn’t even hold a candle to our Yejun! I’ve been in this industry ten years, and Yejun’s destined for greatness.”

“True. I had some biases at first, but the more I see him, the more charming he is.”

“He’s the actor Writer Isak chose. No wonder she gifted him a custom puzzle. The CEO won’t ignore this either. He cooked ramen and did dishes for our Yejun, right?”

“The CEO did dishes?”

Manager Byun’s words drew gasps. Cha Yilhyun’s gaze shifted through the door crack, landing on Park Yejun standing at the partition’s edge.

Park Yejun was grinning—not a forced smile to appease seniors insulting his friend and manager, but genuine joy. Looking sheepish, he spoke innocently.

“Seok Ryu can be cold, but he’s ambitious. He’s been coming home late from work and seems a bit on edge.”

“Late? What’s a manager doing besides caring for their actor…?”

“It’s nothing weird, don’t misunderstand!”

“Don’t cover for him too much, Yejun. He’ll get spoiled.”

Cha Yilhyun slid the glass door open. Staff scrambled to greet him, startled. Manager Byun fussed, and Park Yejun bowed awkwardly. Cha Yilhyun circled the room, distributing drinks.

“Oh, these are on the trainee manager.”

Manager Byun bellowed.

“He should hand them out himself, not make the CEO do it! I’ll call him and chew him out!”

Manager Byun gritted his teeth and dialed someone. Cha Yilhyun glanced at Park Yejun, standing blankly in the corner.

“Park Yejun.”

“Y-yes?”

Called suddenly, Park Yejun’s head shot up. Cha Yilhyun tossed a can, which arced through the air. Catching it, Park Yejun stammered, “Th-thank you.”

Finishing his call, Manager Byun dragged Park Yejun to Cha Yilhyun.

“You should greet the CEO first! Our Yejun’s shy, but put him in front of a camera, and he’s a chameleon. There’s been some controversy today, but it’s all just jealous slander, right?”

Cha Yilhyun let Manager Byun ramble, studying Park Yejun’s face. His neck and earlobes flushed as if in special effects makeup. His restless hands and darting eyes resembled a colorful lizard. Seok Ryu was adept at deception, but his friend seemed clumsy.

Cha Yilhyun handed the empty bag to Manager Byun and turned to leave. At the entrance, he ran into Seok Ryu rushing in. His sultry burgundy eyes briefly locked onto Cha Yilhyun before sliding away.

As Seok Ryu approached, Manager Byun screamed. Staff exchanged sinister glances*.* Seok Ryu froze, unsure how to respond. He had no idea who had spread the photos, but he was certain it wasn’t Yejun. He couldn’t let this ruin Yejun’s career.

“Seok Ryu, what the hell is going on?” Manager Byun demanded, his face red with fury. “You’re supposed to keep Yejun out of trouble, not throw him into it!”

Seok Ryu remained silent, his mind racing. He needed to find out who was behind this and clear Yejun’s name. But how? The evidence was circumstantial at best, and the public had already convicted Yejun in their minds.

“I… I don’t know,” Seok Ryu admitted, hating how weak he sounded. “But I swear, Yejun didn’t do this. Someone’s setting him up.”

Manager Byun scoffed. “Yeah, right. And I’m the next big K-drama star. You’d better fix this, Seok Ryu, or you’re both done.”

Seok Ryu’s fists clenched. He couldn’t let Yejun’s dream die because of a lie. But with the entire industry against them, where could he even start?