CRT Ch 20

💎

Drurrk——— Drurrrk————

The CEO’s office was filled with the sound of chair wheels rolling. Cha Yilhyun rode his leather chair back and forth along the long glass window multiple times. Director Kwak followed the CEO’s movements with his eyes. Cha Yilhyun had been holed up for days, only showing his face late in the afternoon.

“You look like you’re half-dead.”

It was ten minutes after Director Kwak entered before Cha Yilhyun finally spoke.

“Yes, it feels like I’m dying.”

“A lot of members must have left.”

“That’s correct.”

“The company’s image must have taken a hit too.”

“This incident is largely my responsibility for bringing in Park Yejun, so I’ll accept any disciplinary action.”

“Impressive.”

While Director Kwak’s insides burned, the CEO’s eyes gleamed with amusement. When D-Day brought up Songhyul’s accounting transparency issues and moral laxity due to rights bullying, international media rushed to publish pessimistic articles. Above all, the incessant sound of those chair wheels was driving Director Kwak to the brink of madness. He responded with a stern face.

“I plan to hold an event to curb member loss and find a compromise with D-Day by offering advertising deals. I’ll submit a proposal soon.”

The leather chair glided smoothly and parked at the desk. Cha Yilhyun rested both arms on the table.

“Winple is behind D-Day. They’re getting a commission for every member Songhyul loses.”

Director Kwak was speechless. He’d wondered why Winple was so quiet after losing the rights to The Lake of Gods. A third-rate tabloid like D-Day wouldn’t dare act so boldly without backing, and Winple was behind it. If Winple was involved, a few ads wouldn’t smooth things over.

What made the CEO terrifying was his boundless intuition and swift, precise intelligence. Was that why he’d been absent, digging into the mastermind behind the malicious comment scandal?

Cha Yilhyun pulled a file from a drawer and placed it on the desk.

“Want to take a look?”

As Kwak Gayeom reached for the file, Cha Yilhyun’s gaze followed. There was something ominous in his eyes. Director Kwak tapped the cover, checking for glue or paint stains. Confirming it was safe, he cautiously lifted the edge. No dead bugs or fake centipedes inside.

Contrary to his fears, the file contained normal documents. Reading the first page, Director Kwak’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.

The paper detailed an event to prevent member loss and attract new ones. Scribbled like a doodle, it outlined a massive event worth tens of billions. The best way to bring back defecting members was to throw money at them.

Kwak Gayeom looked at Cha Yilhyun in astonishment. He’d come prepared for punishment, but he hadn’t expected such a bold breakthrough.

“Thank you for your consideration, but Winple is also holding a major event, so we risk a bleeding competition.”

“Either I survive alone, or we all go down together.”

The CEO often seemed impulsive, but in hindsight, his actions were calculated based on precise information. If this aggressive strategy worked as planned, it would not only crush Winple but also dominate other platforms, making it truly Songhyul’s world.

“I’ll discuss it with the finance team.”

Was he a gambler or just reckless? Director Kwak had been at a loss, but the CEO’s move opened a path, letting him breathe again.

“If Park Yejun knew how much you’re investing in this, he’d feel the rights he secured were worth it.”

A strange glint suddenly passed through Cha Yilhyun’s eyes.

“You didn’t look at the last page?”

“Oh, right.”

Director Kwak flipped to the final page. The moment he read it, he looked at Cha Yilhyun as if he’d been struck. Cha Yilhyun’s eyes, shadowed against the light, gleamed with cold ruthlessness. He pushed his chair back, gliding to the wall and drifting away leisurely.

💎

“Please save our Yejun! I’m counting on you, hyungnim!”

As the entertainment PD got into his car, Manager Byun and Yejun bowed repeatedly at the door. Manager Byun forced Seok Ryu’s stiff head down to bow as well. When the PD’s car vanished from sight, Manager Byun gritted his teeth, looking at the receipt.

“Did a beggar possess him? He ate like a pig.”

Fortunately, the PD joined Yejun’s followers on the first try. He promised to put Yejun on a variety talk show once the controversy died down. Manager Byun believed it was thanks to his diligent networking at events.

The moment Yejun turned on his phone, it rang. Since Yoon Inoh’s disappearance, Manager Jang had been calling Yejun nonstop. Manager Byun snatched the phone.

“Why the hell is Inoh’s whereabouts Yejun’s problem? Friends? What kind of friend sues another? If you’re dropping it, you shouldn’t have filed in the first place! Enough, he’s your actor, deal with it!”

Manager Byun shouted and blocked Manager Jang’s number.

Yoon Inoh left a vague SNS post about going abroad to clear his head and vanished. It seemed he was trying to handle Sanho’s body alone. With two years of film, drama, and ad schedules collapsing, Manager Jang and the company were in chaos. The penalties alone were said to reach tens of billions.

Reverted to his original face, Yoon Inoh’s career was over. Having dropped the lawsuit himself, he couldn’t pressure Yejun the same way again.

Since meeting Yoon Inoh yesterday, Yejun slept deeply for the first time in a while. He ate breakfast cleanly. As Seok Ryu advised, he seemed to be steadily storing energy to endure.

Despite the situation, Manager Byun somehow secured a schedule. In an hour, they’d meet a casting director. Another company was producing a romance film, and Yejun was set to audition for a supporting role. As they boarded the van, Manager Byun’s phone rang. He answered politely with both hands.

“Now? I have an important schedule. Can I visit afterward?”

The call seemed to end abruptly, as Manager Byun glared at his phone and muttered.

“Director Kwak wants me at the CEO’s office.”

Judging by his expression, Manager Byun was clueless. It was odd to be summoned and asked to postpone an important meeting. Seok Ryu asked.

“But why the CEO’s office instead of the director’s?”

“If you’re so curious, ask him yourself.”

Manager Byun snapped, then his eyes suddenly widened.

“Right, when Taeon’s character scandal was covered up, the CEO went off the grid for a day too!”

“Who?”

“The CEO! He’s calling us to fix Yejun’s scandal! Just like you saved a dying project with those rights, he’s trying to save you.”

“What did I even do…”

Despite his words, Yejun’s face lit up. Manager Byun’s enthusiasm wasn’t reliable, but Seok Ryu felt a flicker of hope. Manager Byun postponed the casting director meeting and headed to Songhyul’s headquarters.

The headquarters was swarmed with reporters and antis. As they got out of the van, eggs and curses flew as expected. Manager Byun fought through reporters to clear a path. Someone scratched Yejun’s face and yanked his hair. Seok Ryu got caught in the scuffle, trampled by the crowd. They’d need a bodyguard for a while.

The employees they passed in the elevator looked grim. An inexplicable tension hung over the company. Seok Ryu assumed it was due to the chaos from Yoon Inoh’s disappearance.

They arrived at the lobby outside the CEO’s office. The model sailboat Yoon Inoh had wrecked was reassembled in a new glass bottle. The three secretaries at the desk were busy answering phones.

Director Kwak was on the phone, giving orders from the waiting sofa. Nearby, executives from various departments paced with agitated faces. Some had red, teary eyes. On one side stood men in black suits, wearing “Audit Team” ID cards around their necks.

Seok Ryu exchanged a stern glance with Yejun. The oppressive atmosphere froze Yejun, already tense. Finishing his call, Director Kwak approached Yejun.

“The CEO didn’t call you; I did. You need to explain yourself properly.”

“Explain what…”

“As of today, Manager Byun and I are fired. Over 200 people, from executives to regular employees, were sacked, and a bunch of actors will have their contracts terminated.”

Seok Ryu thought he’d misheard. Director Kwak’s tone was eerily calm for such news. Yejun covered his mouth, turning pale, while Manager Byun’s neck veins bulged.

“What, the CEO fired us all? Why, out of nowhere?!”

Director Kwak gave a bitter smile.

“They were all involved in workplace bullying, apparently. I’m guilty of enabling it.”

Suddenly, Director Kwak shot Seok Ryu a strange look.

“And for assaulting an employee.”

Manager Byun, face red, shouted at Director Kwak’s words.

“What nonsense! Us, bullying? Where’s the proof?!”

Secretary Yang, seated at the desk, stood politely to explain.

“There’s plenty of proof. Yesterday, the CEO reviewed all the CCTV footage and interviewed witnesses personally.”

Only then did Manager Byun grasp the severity, raging.

“Me? I’d never quit and leave Yejun! What kind of world is this, firing us unfairly for no reason? I demand a review!”

“The HR committee issued the terminations, and the CEO controls the committee.”

At Director Kwak’s reply, Manager Byun faltered, then rallied the executives.

“Then we all rise up and protest! Can the company run without us?”

“We’d all quit to protect Yejun!”

As the executives joined in, Director Kwak laughed coldly.

“Even if everyone quits, the CEO won’t bat an eye.”

Seok Ryu closed his eyes in despair. Director Kwak was undeniably Songhyul’s second-in-command, the only one who could challenge Cha Yilhyun. His absence couldn’t be filled by hundreds of regular employees.

Was this why Cha Yilhyun was absent all day yesterday? Who was bullied so severely that he’d resort to mass firings? Seok Ryu had scoured the company for followers but never saw or heard of anyone being bullied.

Could the bullying be a pretext for internal power struggles? All the fired people were in Director Kwak’s faction, which was worth considering. Moreover, they were all Yejun’s fervent followers.

How many more would be sacked was impossible to predict. Replacing lost followers felt hopeless. Why do something so reckless with The Lake of Gods production looming?

Director Kwak rubbed his haggard face.

“For now, Yejun, come meet the CEO with me. Manager Byun and the trainee, stay here.”

“No, I should meet the CEO, not Yejun!”

Manager Byun protested, frothing, and Director Kwak answered.

“Because he thinks Park Yejun is the ringleader.”

Yejun’s face went beyond pale to ashen. The bombshell left Seok Ryu’s mind blank. Yejun, the ringleader of bullying? He couldn’t process the situation.

Kwak Gayeom stood before the CEO’s office door. He muttered, as if advising Yejun or hypnotizing himself.

“Don’t get caught up with the CEO. Stay sharp.”

Seeing Director Kwak so tense for the first time drove home the gravity of the situation. At Kwak Gayeom’s signal, Secretary Yang called to confirm the meeting. Moments later, Secretary Yang covered the receiver.

“He says only Trainee Manager and Park Yejun should come in.”

“Are you sure you heard right?”

Director Kwak asked sharply. Secretary Yang nodded.

“He said either those two come in, or everyone leaves.”

“Ha.”

Director Kwak let out a hollow laugh. Yejun looked at Seok Ryu with a stiff face. Rather than wasting energy worrying outside, they had no choice but to go in and face it.

“We’ll go alone.”

Seok Ryu clasped Yejun’s hand and walked to the door. The master’s hand was cold and clammy from extreme tension—or perhaps it was Seok Ryu’s own. He took a deep breath and knocked. His fingers trembled as he turned the knob.

As the door opened, the sunset’s light, crashing against the marble floor, stung his eyes. Holding his master’s hand, Seok Ryu stepped into the inferno. He vowed not to let go until they escaped safely.

💎

The CEO’s office resembled Cha Yilhyun’s officetel. Plastic toys replaced plants, and puzzles hung instead of framed company mottos. Bathed in sunset light, the interior felt like a serial killer’s lair from a gore film. Seok Ryu stood at the door, looking at the room’s owner.

Cha Yilhyun sat in a leather chair, gazing down at the high-rise buildings. Emerging from his reverie, he turned to Seok Ryu. His gaze lingered on Seok Ryu’s neck before sinking slowly. Today, his vibrant eyes mirrored the city below. Cha Yilhyun glanced at the sofa across from him.

“Make yourselves comfortable. Want something to drink?”

His friendliness made Seok Ryu forget why they were there. Yejun, terrified, couldn’t even greet him.

“We’re fine.”

Seok Ryu replied, seating Yejun on the sofa. He fetched water from the dispenser, and Yejun forced the glass down. Cha Yilhyun’s gaze followed relentlessly.

After quenching his thirst, the master remarkably found something he could and should do in this situation. Yejun leaned forward, half-standing.

“I’m sorry for causing concern. I’ve reconciled with Inoh and will be careful moving forward. Regardless of the truth, since this all happened because of me, I apologize unconditionally.”

Cha Yilhyun let out a puff of air.

“Director Kwak taught you some weird things.”

The blatant mockery reddened Yejun’s neck. Cha Yilhyun dropped the sneer and propped his elbows on the wide desk.

“Whether Park Yejun posted malicious comments or spread photos is none of my concern. What I care about is the strange company atmosphere that’s been brewing.”

“What…”

“You know the employees are revolving around you, Park Yejun.”

Yejun’s eyes darted as he stammered.

“They probably appreciate me for securing the rights. I’m always grateful for everyone’s kindness.”

“So you wanted to feel like a big shot.”

Yejun’s eyes teared up with indignation.

“I, I really didn’t bully anyone. Who am I to…”

“People find joy in different things, so I get it. What matters to me is the victim.”

No matter how hard Seok Ryu racked his brain, he couldn’t think of anyone Yejun had bullied. If anyone, it was Yoon Inoh and Jo Namheon. Beyond removing Yoon Inoh from the banquet list, Yejun was the one victimized. Jo Namheon was only ignored, which was a stretch to call victimization.

Beside him, Yejstats Seok Ryu’s lips trembled as he pleaded his innocence.

“I really don’t know who it is. If, if I unintentionally hurt someone, I’ll meet them and sincerely apologize! Just tell me their name…”

“The victim didn’t even realize they were being bullied. They’d be shocked to know.”

Anger flared in Cha Yilhyun’s eyes, making Seok Ryu’s heart throb. Who could it be that Cha Yilhyun was so enraged he’d turn the company upside down? If he was this worried about their pain, they must be important…

In this moment, Seok Ryu was more curious about the victim’s age and appearance than how to resolve this by doping them.

Then, a sharp pain in his thigh made Seok Ryu flinch. Yejun was pinching his leg, silently pleading for help. Only then did Seok Ryu notice his master’s paper-pale face. Regaining his senses, he forced out his voice.

“We can’t be interrogated without knowing who the victim is. Yejun’s the one ostracized here, yet he’s the ringleader? I heard there’s evidence; I want to see it.”

“Keep your mouth shut, Seok Ryu.”

A low warning was followed by a piercing glare.

“Interrupt one more time, and you’ll face the consequences.”

The unfamiliar side of him choked Seok Ryu. Today, his gaze was economical, inflicting only necessary wounds before withdrawing mercilessly. Cha Yilhyun zeroed in on Yejun again.

“You’d better start defending yourself hard, Park Yejun. You stole Writer Isak’s heart, so maybe you can sway mine.”

Cha Yilhyun propped his chin, rocking his chair side to side, as if urging Yejun to try. Yejun’s skin flushed or paled with Cha Yilhyun’s gaze. Seok Ryu prayed Yejun remembered Director Kwak’s warning not to get caught up with the CEO.

But in the end, Yejun could only quiver his pale lips, unable to utter a word.

Cha Yilhyun stood and strode to a display case.

“I figured it’d go like this, so I wrote a script. It’s laced with info and imagination—want to hear it?”

He grabbed a handful of plastic figurines from the case. Sitting across from Seok Ryu, he swept the table’s clutter aside with his arm. His eyes sparkled like a boy’s as he poured the figurines onto the table.

“The script’s title is ‘Master and Slave.’”

From the pile, Cha Yilhyun picked a black-haired figurine and a wine-red-haired one, setting them face-to-face. He moved the black-haired one forward.

“In a paradise lived a ‘Master.’ The Master craved adoration, but no one paid him heed. He was a dull, boring person. One day, this Master met a beautiful Slave.”

He placed the wine-red-haired figurine before the Master.

“After meeting the Slave, fanatical followers flocked to the Master. The pattern’s interesting. People initially charmed by the Slave become the Master’s followers and, as if scripted, hate the Slave without knowing why.”

The extra figurines stared at the Slave before turning to the Master.

“To gain more devotees, the Master overworks his Slave. The Slave, too, is ready to do anything for the Master. Anything.”

Cha Yilhyun laid the Slave figurine face-down on the table. He grabbed a glasses-wearing figurine and posed it like a beast mating. Then he laid the Slave flat, spreading its legs, and stacked another figurine on top, playfully thrusting its hips. The emotionless toys’ copulation was more grotesque than lewd.

A wicked yet innocent god held Seok Ryu’s gaze, snapping the limbs of the figurine atop the Slave. He twisted its neck, tossing the torso aside. The glasses-wearing figurine, limbs mangled, lay in ruins on the floor.

Seok Ryu’s limbs stiffened, his cracked breaths escaping. Now it all made sense: he was the one bullied. Cha Yilhyun was right. The shock left Seok Ryu numb.

He stared blankly at the spread-legged figurine. He hadn’t expected Cha Yilhyun to take literally the words Seok Ryu spat in anger at Isak’s house. Company rumors must have reached him too. In his worldview, crude fantasies were easier to accept than the Master-Slave bond or the miracles guardian stones wrought.

If only he’d given a hint, a sliver of doubt. Seok Ryu never imagined this scenario.

Why give him necklaces while believing filthy rumors? Why look at him with those eyes? Why…

Yejun trembled, sobbing.

“N-no… I, I never did that to Seok Ryu…”

“It’s a metaphor. It’s open to endless interpretations depending on the audience.”

Cha Yilhyun’s lips curved slyly.

“It’s boring, but hear it to the end. It’s the finale.”

He swept all but the Master and Slave figurines to the floor.

“When the god learns of the Master and his followers’ atrocities, he’s furious. He banishes them from the kingdom, stripping their wealth. They pay for his wrath tenfold, a hundredfold, until death. Unable to bear despair, the Master…”

Cha Yilhyun dragged the Master figurine to the table’s edge and let it fall. Its neck snapped, eyes popping out—a warning he’d drive them to surrender.

After the execution, Cha Yilhyun leaned toward Yejun. His hair slid along the slope of his nose.

“Good triumphs over evil is cliché, but everyone loves it.”

The puppet show ended with the Master’s downfall. Yejun’s face was bloodless, paler than the fallen figurine. Tears streamed as he knelt before the self-proclaimed god.

“P-please forgive me just once! Save me… Please save me!!”

Yejun sobbed, trembling like dry grass. It was like seeing the terrified master in that dark cabin again—no, far worse.

Cha Yilhyun often sent chills down Seok Ryu’s spine or sparked inexplicable shudders. Sometimes, he heard phantom cracks in his body. He’d wanted to flee every encounter.

From the start, Seok Ryu instinctively knew he’d never wrest control from Cha Yilhyun. The hope that persistence would bring success might have been his delusion. Seok Ryu was the one who wanted to kneel and cry.

He lifted his prostrate master to his feet. Yejun’s terrified eyes locked onto him, swaying with despair and deeper resentment, overwhelmed by emotions.

What now? Cling to Cha Yilhyun’s trousers and beg? Or take Yejun elsewhere and start over? He didn’t know. His mind blanked, unable to judge what he could or shouldn’t do. Beyond that door, only a dark cliff seemed to wait. The one falling wasn’t the Master but the Slave figurine.

Seok Ryu wiped Yejun’s tears and smoothed his crumpled knees. His fingers trembled helplessly. He pulled the wine-red phone from his pocket and placed it on the table. A mere machine, yet he’d clung to it obsessively, as if it tied him to Cha Yilhyun.

“I’m quitting too.”

He didn’t check Cha Yilhyun’s expression, afraid of seeing the gaze he imagined. An inexplicable pain crushed his heart. It was bewildering. Only a master bound by the ritual could inflict such intense pain on a guardian stone…

Seok Ryu took Yejun’s limp hand and led him to the exit. Yejun followed like a broken doll. Opening the door, he let Yejun escape first. Once his master was safely out, Seok Ryu moved to follow.

Then, footsteps rapidly closed in behind him, like a slasher’s saw grazing his neck. A brutal grip seized his arm.

“Let go! Urgh…!”

Seok Ryu shook off the chilling touch. A rougher hand grabbed both his arms, a strong thigh pressing his pelvis. The force slammed the door shut. The heat restraining Seok Ryu was savage and searing.

As the sunset’s last rays vanished between dark buildings, artificial gems began to flicker. Left behind, Seok Ryu let his exhausted body slump, closing his eyes. Half-leaning on the door, half-pinned by Cha Yilhyun, he could hardly claim to stand on his own.

A cruel voice scattered at Seok Ryu’s lips.

“Where are you going? We’re just getting started.”

Come to think of it, he hadn’t heard the Slave’s ending yet.