CRT Ch 29

💎

Since morning, a text message arrived on Seok Ryu’s phone. It was from an unfamiliar number, containing only two attached files. Seok Ryu had heard that scams often used such tactics to trick people into installing malicious software and extorting money. Without further inspection, the message went straight to the trash.

Manager Byun handed over the driver’s seat to Jinguk as soon as he became a bodyguard. Jinguk, who had anticipated a glamorous role, wore a bandage on his head and now played chauffeur, his face sour with resentment. His frustration was directed at Seok Ryu, seated in the passenger seat.

Typically, followers competed to monopolize their master, and Seok Ryu was often the first target. Some masters protected Seok Ryu during these conflicts, while others reveled in the intrigue among their followers.

Since the Biryu preliminary audition, Yejun’s mood had been consistently low. Yejun had forbidden doping Director Choi. Seok Ryu had never doped via video, and with Choi abroad, he had no choice but to comply, half willingly, half reluctantly.

For two days, Seok Ryu repeatedly visited Lee Taeon’s officetel, but he was never home. He hadn’t returned to his family home either, and there were no other shoots scheduled, which puzzled Seok Ryu.

Yejun sat in the back seat, wearing an eye mask. Manager Byun, seated beside him, massaged Yejun’s fingers. Having relinquished the driver’s role, Byun had been promoted to Yejun’s side. Yejun suddenly tore off his eye mask.

“Why not sleep more?”

“I’d sleep if you gave me room to stretch out. How can I sleep when I’m being sold off?”

A phone commercial deal had come in, and today was a meeting with the advertising company. It was Yejun’s first TV commercial, a major opportunity unattainable for most rookie actors. But upon learning it was a package deal with Lee Taeon, Yejun had been throwing tantrums. Since the Biryu audition, Yejun gnashed his teeth at the mention of Lee Taeon.

Manager Byun gently rubbed Yejun’s shoulders.

“There’s nothing to feel bad about. The CEO grabbed Taeon by the collar to put you in this CF. Do you know how big this is?”

Songhyul had maintained Lee Taeon’s rarity by not exploiting his image. More significant than Yejun being tacked on was the fact that Cha Yilhyun had played a trump card.

It signaled that Cha Yilhyun would give everything for Yejun in the future. Realizing this, Yejun’s darkened expression brightened.

“But why did Lee Taeon agree to do the commercial? I heard he’d refuse even billions.”

“They said they’d grant one thing Taeon wanted in exchange for the commercial.”

“What’s that?”

“Who knows? Maybe a personal theater? Or, if the CEO says do it, what choice does he have?”

“True.”

Yejun smiled with his lush lips. Under divine favor, Yejun had become the omnipotent master of a paradise. Falling out of Yejun’s favor meant complete submission or leaving Songhyul. Otherwise, one would be ostracized by Songhyul’s community, lose work, and be cast out from the group.

Yejun paused before putting the eye mask back on, chewing his lips.

“The CEO won’t come to the meeting today, right?”

“No word of him coming, and since he pulls weird pranks at client meetings, it’s better if he doesn’t.”

When Yejun looked glum, Byun Geunwoo nudged his side with an elbow.

“Call him. If you ask, he’ll come running barefoot.”

“Don’t say stuff like that. I don’t even have his number…”

“You can’t not have the CEO’s number! I’ll ask Director Kwak, so hold on.”

“You don’t know it either?”

“Nope. What CEO hands their number to a mere manager?”

“Forget it.”

Yejun let out a hollow laugh and turned to Seok Ryu.

“Oh, you know it, right? The CEO’s number.”

A chill ran down Seok Ryu’s spine. Before he could respond, Manager Byun scoffed.

“Yejun’s perfect, but his sense of humor’s off. How would a lowly assistant know what I don’t?”

“He knows. He talked to the CEO a lot. Right?”

Yejun looked at Seok Ryu with clear eyes. He wasn’t seeking the truth. It was a warning not to forget Seok Ryu’s sins, putting him on trial unexpectedly. Yejun’s lash struck precisely at the most painful spots, delicate yet fierce.

Seok Ryu met Yejun’s eyes through the rearview mirror.

“I returned the phone, so I don’t remember the number. We barely talked.”

Yejun gave an enigmatic smile and elegantly donned the eye mask. Seok Ryu turned his gaze out the window. Dead landscapes passed slowly. He slipped his hand deep into his pocket, clutching the Iron Man ring.

Seok Ryu had thought that understanding true emotions would make the world beautiful and enrich the soul. But the more he learned, the deeper the scratches left by people’s contemptuous expressions and tones.

Yet thinking that person was out there somewhere gave him strength to live through today. His heart also crumbled at the thought of endless tomorrows. Feeling conflicting emotions simultaneously when thinking of someone was a mysterious thing.

Sometimes, an overwhelming urge made him want to rush into the streets and tell anyone about his first experience of emotion.

One sad truth was that since that day, he no longer struggled for his master’s devotion but for his own survival. The Seok Ryu who fondly regarded Yejun sleeping in a cramped room no longer existed.

The Yejun moved by Seok Ryu’s existence would never be seen again. But no matter how the master changed, guardian stones waited for their master to reach out first.

💎

The meeting with the advertising company was in the audiovisual conference room at Songhyul’s headquarters. While Manager Byun and Jinguk parked, Seok Ryu and Yejun stood by the first-floor elevator.

Director Kwak stepped out of an arriving elevator, accompanied by the casting director. Engrossed in a phone call, Kwak ignored Yejun standing before him.

“I’ll tell security, so wait in my office when you arrive.”

Yejun bounded to Kwak, showing off his outfit.

“Director, you’re here? It’s my first TV commercial meeting, so I put in effort. How do I look?”

Finishing his call, Kwak stared at Yejun expressionlessly and said something unexpected.

“Who do you think you are, interrupting a superior’s call?”

Yejun froze, then hurriedly clasped his hands.

“Sorry. I was just excited to see you…”

Kwak walked off, leaving a cold breeze. Yejun stood stunned. Seok Ryu stared at Kwak disappearing at the lobby’s end.

Kwak was naturally cold, and even as Yejun’s follower, he wasn’t warm. Unaware of it himself, Kwak was bound by a clear master-follower relationship, making it unthinkable to disrespect Yejun to his face.

Suddenly, a strange fishy odor emanated from where Kwak had stood, like a mix of mildew and mold.

Seok Ryu wrinkled his nose and led Yejun to a secluded corner.

“Something’s off with Director Kwak.”

“What?”

“His attitude toward you feels like…”

It wasn’t just his attitude—Kwak’s gaze toward Yejun was filled with contempt.

“It’s like before he was doped.”

He didn’t want to think it, and it shouldn’t happen, but if the crack in Seok Ryu’s core stone was weakening the garnet effect, it was gravely serious.

Yejun stared at Seok Ryu, then burst out laughing.

“Plenty of people are jealous that Kwak favors me. No need to make it obvious. Don’t you get it? He’s being considerate.”

“It didn’t look like consideration—it looked like disrespect.”

“Kwak disrespecting me?”

Yejun laughed sharply at Seok Ryu’s words.

“He’s probably stressed from company work. You know how I get when I’m on edge—why make a fuss?”

Seok Ryu wondered if he’d overinterpreted and held his tongue. As Yejun said, Kwak might be prickly from work stress. Suddenly, Yejun’s gaze turned icy.

“I’ve been meaning to say, you keep sowing discord between me and my followers. Why do that to people running day and night for my success? Keep it up, and it’ll look like you’re jealous of my rise. Don’t make people misunderstand.”

Before Seok Ryu could explain, Yejun boarded the elevator.

The audiovisual conference room was filled with large and small monitors and unidentified machines. Not just the conference and break rooms but the entire company was littered with gaming consoles and toys for Cha Yilhyun to play with at whim.

Amid the clutter, a chubby man was dozing. It was a place for an important meeting, so Seok Ryu moved to wake and usher him out.

“You can’t sleep here.”

The man, startled awake, looked around blankly, then stared at Seok Ryu. Manager Byun, following behind, brought Yejun to the man and introduced him.

“This is Director Kim from JYS advertising. Every hit ad is basically his work!”

His disheveled appearance hid his prominence. Yejun nodded curtly at Director Kim. Kim gave a perfunctory greeting, then closed his eyes to doze again. Yejun glared at him before taking a seat.

The advertising company called, delayed by traffic. Yejun took the chance to visit the acting practice room after a long absence. Upon his arrival, the trainees stomped their feet or fanned themselves as if meeting a superstar.

The acting coach gave them a special break, and Yejun chatted with the aspirants. Most were followers swayed by the garnet effect or humans struggling to avoid ostracism. A former classmate marveled at Yejun’s appearance.

“Yejun hyung, you’re getting sharper and slimmer. You’re like Biryu straight out of the novel!”

“Don’t say weird stuff.”

Yejun snapped but was secretly pleased. He made a mental note to get the guy a commercial. The aspirants chattered with news to keep Yejun entertained, including Jo Namheon and Kim Jiyul’s breakup.

Jo Namheon’s groveling was somewhat endearing. Yejun had planned to crush him and banish him from Songhyul, but his devotion softened Yejun’s resolve.

Then an aspirant clapped as if recalling something.

“Did you hear about the new contract? The casting director scouted him off the street, and Director Kwak really liked him. The terms are supposedly historic.”

“So what? Yejun’s the biggest now.”

Yejun’s face hardened, and the aspirants fell silent. Yejun smiled thinly, easing the tension.

“A company grows by finding new faces.”

It irked him that Kwak favored another actor, but it wasn’t empty talk. Obsolete or incompetent followers were useless. Only those proving their worth deserved to stay by Yejun’s side. Above all, Yejun had a slave far surpassing Kwak—Cha Yilhyun, the ultimate slave.

Then Lee Kangmin suddenly made a fuss.

“Oh, we’re wearing the same shirt? Must be telepathy!”

Yejun belatedly noticed he and Lee Kangmin wore identical shirts. Kangmin, a senior actor who’d been in the industry longer, had languished in bit roles for three years. Deemed useless, Seok Ryu hadn’t even doped him.

Unlike Kangmin’s delight, Yejun’s lips curled coldly.

“I need to fire my stylist. Throwing me rags that anyone wears?”

Realizing his mistake, Kangmin paled and scrambled to cover his shirt.

“Sorry, I’ll change! I was just excited to match with you…”

“Sunbae, wear clothes that suit you. That’s why you’ve never been cast.”

As Yejun stood, followers rushed to see him off. Kangmin, left alone in the practice room, looked ready to cry. Thinking they were equals because they’d once trained together was a mistake. Yejun lived in a different world from them.

After parting with the aspirants, Yejun strolled to the elevator. He raised his hand, turning it back and forth. The garnet choker jangled on his wrist.

Lately, this hand rarely felt hot. Seok Ryu’s high success rate early on seemed like mere luck. As time passed, the limits of his half-baked ability became clear.

Still, Yejun had no plans to discard Seok Ryu yet. He intended to keep him leashed until he reached a satisfying position. A flawless gem and lovable pet, willingly toiling for his master.

Each time Yejun marred Seok Ryu’s pristine skin, his heart ached. Bound by a ritual of submission, harming Seok Ryu was akin to self-harm. But no matter how he tried to resist, withdrawal symptoms were unbearable. There was something in Seok Ryu’s body that, once touched, became impossible to quit.

Yejun tightened the loosened choker and stepped out.

When Yejun exited the elevator, the conference room corridor was bustling. Amid the crowd, a tall man stood out—Cha Yilhyun.

Secretary Yang carried an armful of large envelopes, and Lee Taeon followed, looking disheveled. Cha Yilhyun, the CEO, held cup carriers in both hands, while Lee Taeon was empty-handed. Manager Byun fawned over Cha Yilhyun, opening the conference room door.

Cha Yilhyun scanned the room, searching for someone—likely Yejun. Yejun checked his hair in the corridor glass, relaxing his stiff lips. Calming his racing heart, he hoped Cha Yilhyun would spot him first.

Cha Yilhyun stood still, staring at one spot. Yejun’s heart sank when he followed his gaze—Seok Ryu was there. The distance and backlighting cast deep shadows in Cha Yilhyun’s eyes.

Then Secretary Yang spotted Yejun and pointed. Cha Yilhyun withdrew his gaze and strode toward Yejun.

“Where’ve you been? I thought you’d be with your manager.”

As expected, since they were always together, he assumed Yejun was where Seok Ryu was. The thought of monopolizing Cha Yilhyun’s attention was so thrilling it felt like a dream, almost frightening. Perhaps the greatest obstacle in Yejun’s life wasn’t Inoh but Seok Ryu. Wherever he went, he’d be tied to and weighed against Seok Ryu.

“What brings you here? I thought you weren’t coming…”

Yejun’s cheeks flushed noticeably. Cha Yilhyun nodded toward Lee Taeon behind him.

“He was going to be late, so I dragged him here.”

Unable to contain his joy, Yejun steadied his twitching lips. In this moment, Cha Yilhyun was Yejun’s guardian stone. Yejun didn’t miss the chance to flash Lee Taeon a charming smile.

“It’s an honor to do my first commercial with a senior. Please take care of me today.”

Lee Taeon didn’t spare Yejun a glance and walked inside. He’d been absent from his officetel for days, preventing Seok Ryu from doping him, but today was a prime opportunity. Yejun sharpened his resolve inwardly, yet felt no defeat. With Cha Yilhyun backing him, anyone who challenged him could be enslaved in return, doubling the joy of his patience.