CRT Ch 2

Across from the outdoor café, the Songhyul Entertainment headquarters stood in view. The building, as if forged from platinum, seemed poised to pierce the city sky. On the massive digital billboard adorning its exterior, the face of Songhyul’s flagship star, Yoon Inoh, was displayed. Yoon Inoh had monopolized the title of Asia’s most beautiful face for three consecutive years, reigning as a top actor.

“Would you like to place an order?”

The café staff seemed to regard Yejun as a nuisance occupying a seat without ordering. Customers seated at the outdoor tables glanced over. Yejun felt a surge of irritation, sensing the staff had deliberately embarrassed him. Yet, contrary to his feelings, he stammered.

“My friend will be here soon… I’m sorry.”

The café staff left a mechanical smile and went back inside.

Yejun pulled a crumpled tissue from his pants pocket. Carefully unfolding it, he gazed at the black grains inside. It was a black pearl he had stolen from Inoh’s house not long ago. A jeweler had appraised it as a genuine black pearl, but Yejun still couldn’t believe it. Unless he had seen an illusion that day, this black pearl was the tear shed by a boy named Sanho.

Yejun had a high school best friend named Minsu. Minsu was ostracized for being unattractive, while Yejun was shunned simply for being unlikeable. Even after attending different universities, they relied on each other. Then, one day, contact with Minsu abruptly stopped. Yejun, scraping by with minor roles in films and dramas, reunited with Minsu at a filming set. Or, more precisely, he met Yoon Inoh.

The Minsu he met after months was a completely different person. He had even changed his name to “Yoon Inoh.” With an elf-like beauty, Inoh became an Asian star immediately upon his debut.

Rumors of plastic surgery never ceased. Photos claiming to show “Yoon Inoh’s real face” circulated online. The culprit who first spread the photos was never caught.

Knowing Inoh’s past, Yejun naturally assumed his face was surgically altered. Songhyul Entertainment went as far as releasing CT scans and X-rays to prove Inoh was a natural beauty, and the pre-surgery photos were deemed fabrications by antis. As Inoh’s success soared, he grew arrogant, and contact with Yejun dwindled.

One day, a drunken Inoh called. Though hurt by the lack of contact despite Inoh’s success, Yejun, hoping for some crumbs of opportunity, rushed to him. That night, in Inoh’s bedroom, Yejun witnessed a horrific sight. An unidentified boy, barely clinging to life, had skin cracked and splitting apart.

Yejun stared at the gruesome video he had recorded that day.

—Inoh hyung… It hurts…

—What are you filming?!

In the video, Inoh shouted furiously. Startled, Yejun turned off the footage. The most shocking part was that the boy’s face was identical to Inoh’s past face. Caught with his secret exposed, Inoh stubbornly kept silent before finally confessing everything. The boy was a humanoid guardian stone called a black pearl.

“Sanho’s face and my face were swapped. My current face was originally Sanho’s.”

“Don’t ever tell anyone! If you do, you’ll regret it.”

A humanoid guardian stone, a boy whose face was swapped with Inoh’s… It was too fantastical to dismiss as drunken rambling. The boy’s tears turning into black pearls and his skin cracking like parched earth were equally unbelievable.

“Then I have a request too.”

Yejun wanted to escape being a minor actor and become a citizen of the Songhyul kingdom. Songhyul Entertainment was a titan dominating Asia’s entertainment industry. Actors signing exclusive contracts with Songhyul received billions in signing bonuses, instantly became sensations, and gained fame across Asia. The most extravagant perk was the Songhyul Castle, a luxurious residence provided free to exclusive actors.

“Park Yejun?”

“Yes? Yes!”

Yejun sprang up, looking around. A man in his early thirties sat across from him at the outdoor table. Dressed in a jacket and slim jeans, he exuded sophistication. The diamond-encrusted watch on his wrist stole attention. Realizing who he was, Yejun stood abruptly.

“Hello! I’m Park Yejun!”

“Let’s wrap this up in ten minutes.”

Director Kwak flipped through Yejun’s portfolio with little interest. As Songhyul Entertainment’s second-in-command, he had discovered countless stars. Without Inoh’s introduction, Yejun wouldn’t have even spoken to such a big shot. This meeting with Director Kwak was the price for keeping Inoh’s secret. Nothing in Yejun’s filmography seemed to pique Kwak’s interest.

“These things should go through an agency to avoid awkwardness.”

“Well, my contract with my agency is ending soon…”

His current agency’s CEO was practically begging Yejun to leave rather than renew. At that moment, a text notification chimed on Director Kwak’s phone. After checking the message, Kwak sighed and made a call.

“The CEO wants the peregrine falcon in the intro revised again. The falcon’s crest has black horizontal stripes. Not vertical, horizontal, you idiot! I told you to double- and triple-check to avoid this mess!”

Director Kwak’s outburst drew a glance from a customer across the table using their phone. Irritated, Kwak hung up and flipped through the portfolio hastily. His phone kept buzzing relentlessly. With six of the ten minutes gone, Yejun’s mouth went dry. Finishing the call, Director Kwak observed Yejun with emotionless eyes.

“You and Inoh went to the same acting academy?”

“No, we were high school friends. I attended acting school, but…”

Kwak’s notorious temper had Yejun so nervous he’d taken a calming pill, but it was useless. Taking a deep breath, Yejun stammered.

“I heard Songhyul is producing a major project. Even a small role would be fine. If you give me a chance, I’ll work my heart out.”

Rumors had spread about Songhyul producing a massive blockbuster. They’d held nationwide auditions recently, and Yejun had failed spectacularly.

“Opportunities come to those who deserve them. You don’t seem like you want to be an actor—you want to be a star. But you don’t have what it takes to be one.”

He slammed the portfolio shut.

“Yoon Inoh isn’t the type to make such requests. Did you catch him in a scandal?”

Caught off guard, Yejun fumbled.

“No, no! Inoh just said he’d arrange a meeting with you…”

“Just?”

Kwak Gayeom sneered.

“Don’t mess with our kids by holding their pasts hostage. People like you, scheming behind the scenes, can disappear without a trace.”

Kwak’s venomous words pierced Yejun’s heart, freezing his body. Kwak had come not for an interview but to protect Inoh. Exactly ten minutes later, he returned to the Songhyul headquarters. It was the most horrific ten minutes of Yejun’s life.

“Damn it…”

He’d come to seize a rare opportunity, but all he felt was his own wretchedness. While the world laughed, he alone was miserable.

Yejun was the one who leaked Inoh’s pre-surgery photos. He’d also left malicious comments, resenting Inoh’s brazen claim to beauty. After reading that Inoh earned 200 billion won in a year, Yejun drank cheap soju for days.

Inoh was in a position far beyond his worth. Yejun wanted to drag him down from that unattainable height to his own level.

Yejun took the black pearl from his pocket and rolled it in his palm. Its smooth surface against his skin clouded his mind. Power, wealth, fame, beauty—a gem that grants miracles to its master… It was as if the mystical mineral whispered to him.

You can have it all.

If only he could stand on equal footing with Inoh. He wanted to show those who despised him a triumphant success. He hated himself for being born so inadequate. Sniffling, Yejun called Inoh.

“Can I buy a guardian stone too?”

💎

Some time later, a call came from a workshop broker. Thanks to Inoh vouching for him, Yejun was vetted over the phone. Inoh had learned about the workshop from a politician named Kim Chansik, who had been close to Inoh’s grandfather and visited their home often before becoming a politician.

After identity verification, Yejun would need to pass an aptitude test. If deemed unfit, he couldn’t purchase a guardian stone. Inoh insisted he not buy a pearl, as it overlapped with his own.

“I want to become a famous actor.”

“I recommend garnet.”

Yejun liked the broker’s suggested gem. Garnet was said to enchant people, making them loyal to its master. If he could rise as an actor, wealth and fame would follow naturally.

A guardian stone’s effect lasted five years. Once the period ended, the miracles it granted would vanish. Yejun planned to decide on an extension after experiencing its effects.

Everything—from delivering materials for the binding ritual to paying for the guardian stone—proceeded swiftly, thanks to a massive loan from Inoh. Inoh might see it as hush money for the video, but Yejun intended to repay it once he succeeded as an actor.

The workshop called urgently. The garnet originally scheduled was injured, and they’d send a substitute. Yejun wasn’t thrilled about a replacement, but hesitating now would leave him with nothing, so he placed the order.

When the binding ritual began, his body felt like it was burning, his bones shattering, and he was on the brink of suffocation. He passed out for days, losing his part-time job. He considered giving up, but he sensed the substitute garnet enduring the same agony alongside him.

The binding ritual was like an audition. He had to throw everything into it before merciless judges. He could grit his teeth and endure that much.

After six grueling months, Yejun finally went to a cabin to meet the substitute garnet. He rode a car sent by the workshop, blindfolded. After passing out on the journey, he traveled hours to a mountain cabin. The broker lectured him on handling the gem and the mindset of a master.

“Humanoid guardian stones are cumbersome to carry but have many advantages. They don’t eat, so they don’t excrete. They don’t feel emotions, so you don’t need to entertain them. If you wish, you can engage in grotesque or sadistic acts.”

The broker leaned on the table, sliding into the spotlight.

“These guys are the ultimate evolved pets.”

It was astonishing that they looked human yet felt no pain. Even if he learned of a darker side, Yejun lacked the courage to storm out. This wasn’t a department store or supermarket. It was the last stop for a desperate gambler, a black-market organ trade office.

“Now, let’s meet the real thing. It’s been waiting since earlier.”

Since earlier? Yejun’s head shot up, scanning the surroundings. The broker raised a hand, gesturing behind Yejun.

Yejun stood awkwardly and turned. In a dimly lit corner of the cabin, a large cage stood. The sound of heavy metal dragging came from beyond the bars.

At the boundary where the spotlight met darkness, toes appeared. Then knees, thighs, and chest emerged, pausing as if catching its breath. Moments later, the head fully appeared. The silent, intense process resembled a shadow giving birth.

The garnet gently gripped the bars. A long chain connected the handcuffs on its wrists to its ankles. Yejun reached a trembling hand through the bars and removed the blindfold. When the garnet raised its downcast eyes, Yejun was entranced.

Its pupils were a deep wine-red. At a glance, it resembled a porcelain doll in human form. Vine-like hair cascaded over its face and neck. An indescribable allure, distinct from conventional beauty, emanated from its entire being.

Persephone’s Seok Ryu

The guardian stone that would save Yejun from his abyss.

💎

When Hyun Kyojun arrived at the workshop studio, Heewan was nowhere to be seen. On days when guardian stones were sent off, Heewan was always holed up in the basement. Kyojun descended the basement stairs. Rounding the partition, he found Heewan slumped over a desk. Kyojun perched on the desk.

“Stop moping.”

“I told you not to barge in.”

“Don’t want to hear it, huh?”

Heewan finally looked up and asked.

“Did Seok Ryu leave safely?”

“Wagged its tail and followed the master as soon as they met.”

“I won’t see it for five years now… I didn’t even get to say goodbye properly…”

It might return in five months or, if it met its destined master, never return. Seok Ryu was exceptionally loyal to its master. It endured pain to the point of irreparable bodily damage for its master’s sake. That made Kyojun worry about Seok Ryu more than the other, more reckless gems.

Humanoid guardian stones offered a final miracle to those on the brink. But on days like this, Kyojun questioned whether this work was truly right. Sending them off left him unable to sleep sober.

“Stop whining. It’ll live pampered by its master.”

Hyun Kyojun reached to wipe the tears on Heewan’s cheek. Heewan turned away, brushing off Kyojun’s hand. His younger brother, three years his junior, mimicking an adult annoyed him.

“Tell me about Seok Ryu’s master.”

Though cynical about their family’s legacy, Kyojun had a sharp eye for reading people. Lighting a cigarette, Kyojun smirked.

“His face is decent, but something bland explains why he hasn’t made it. Pretends to be naive but scrambles not to lose out. The garnet’s in for a rough time.”

“You knew that and still sent Seok Ryu?”

“What, cancel it and deal with their tantrum? You think we can handle another mess like when that sculptor turned the Gemsmith Guild upside down?”

Years ago, when Seok Ryu’s former master protested, the workshop nearly shut down. Kyojun’s assessment of Shinbi’s master had also been poor. Perhaps Shinbi’s fate was predictable.

Heewan leaned his head against the partition and closed his eyes. The image of the car carrying the guardian stone, its taillights stretching as it descended the mountain slope, always pained him. Guardian stones were perfect yet imperfect beings. They shone brilliantly when loved by their masters but cracked at the slightest wound. Heewan could never, even in death, love with their pure, untainted devotion.