CRT Ch 4

It took two days to thoroughly clean the house. During that time, Seok Ryu gathered some information about Yejun from the stepmother and Jinguk. Yejun’s father was currently married to the stepmother but had an affair with Yejun’s mother, an unknown actress. After his biological mother’s death, Yejun came to this house at a young age and had been mistreated ever since. His father had spent half his life unemployed, became addicted to gambling, and had long since run away from home.

Beyond Yejun’s personal history, his reputation as an actor was also dismal. For the master to escape his bleak life as soon as possible, Seok Ryu’s responsibility was immense.

Seok Ryu entered the kitchen to prepare breakfast before Yejun woke up. Before showcasing the garnet’s abilities, it was crucial to build trust and rapport with the master. That way, Yejun would trust and follow Seok Ryu’s decisions moving forward.

The stepmother, already preparing breakfast in the kitchen, greeted Seok Ryu warmly.

“How do you wake up so punctually? Oh, I made some side dishes—want to try them?”

“No, thank you.”

Seok Ryu took out the rice first. He precisely measured the portion for Yejun, rinsed it, and placed it in the rice cooker. While the rice cooked, he neatly arranged side dishes he had set aside into bowls. Thanks to neighbors dropping off side dishes, the fridge was overflowing. There were also leftovers from sample side dishes generously given by a supermarket employee.

Seok Ryu sorted Yejun’s clothes from the laundry basket and sat in the courtyard to hand-wash them. He cleared Jinguk’s clothes from the drying rack and neatly hung Yejun’s underwear. At some point, Jinguk rushed over and picked up his own underwear that had fallen to the ground.

“Why are you getting your hands wet washing that loser’s underwear? Tell him to do it himself.”

Yejun’s half-brother glanced at Seok Ryu.

“Don’t you get bored staying cooped up in this house? Want to go get some fresh air?”

“No, thank you.”

“You don’t seem to like drinking. How about a movie? They say Lee Taeon’s new action flick is awesome—want to go see it together?”

“If Yejun agrees to go, I’ll consider it.”

“Why drag that punk into it? Did he catch you in some kind of scandal? He’s a nobody, so just tell me.”

“I am Yejun’s accessory, and I’m the one tagging along with him.”

“Are you trying to piss me off on purpose?! Keep it up, and I’ll snap that loser’s neck!”

The half-brother threw his laundry down and huffed.

“If you lay a single finger on Yejun, I won’t treat you like a person.”

“Fine, I haven’t hit that punk in days anyway.”

“No vulgar cursing either.”

“If you keep getting on my nerves, I don’t know how crazy I might get!”

Jinguk punched the veranda door. Since Seok Ryu’s arrival, he no longer reeked of cigarette smoke or touched alcohol. But he was a ticking time bomb. Seok Ryu gave Jinguk a sidelong glance before returning to the kitchen and shooing the stepmother out. The previous night, Jinguk had demanded settlement money from Yejun, causing a scene that led to a trip to the police station.

Seok Ryu had heard that Jinguk was a judo athlete who was permanently banned after smashing a teammate’s teeth. Afterward, he worked as an insurance agent, salesman, road manager, and more, but never lasted a month without causing trouble. He was notorious in the neighborhood for his ferocity. Having lived his life as a deadbeat, he likely didn’t even know how to devote himself to others. Even dog dung has its uses, but Seok Ryu couldn’t let Yejun be smeared with it, so he pondered what to do.

Though he succeeded in doping the half-brother and stepmother against 50% odds, he hadn’t yet turned them over to Yejun. Someone like the half-brother, even when showing loyalty, could be violent and harm the master. The stepmother lacked distinct traits, so Seok Ryu decided to hold off on both for now.

💎

Yejun shook out his wet hair in front of the bathroom mirror. Before, he was beaten by that mad dog nearly every day, leaving his face perpetually bruised. Since Seok Ryu’s arrival, Jinguk had become docile, almost miraculously. Sure, he’d caused a ruckus the previous night that brought the police, but Yejun hadn’t been hit, which was a huge improvement.

Could this be the garnet’s effect? His reflection in the mirror somehow seemed more handsome. The thought of becoming a charismatic person who could captivate others was thrilling yet made him impatient. He flushed the toilet after urinating. Today, even the sound of the toilet flushing felt refreshing. The house, once filled with the stench of cigarettes and alcohol, now smelled fragrant.

As he stepped out of the bathroom, Seok Ryu was waiting. Seok Ryu took the wet towel from Yejun and wiped the water from Yejun’s feet with a dry one. Yejun flinched and pulled his feet back. Being attended to by someone was a first and felt awkward. Standing up, Seok Ryu stared at Yejun.

“What?”

“How was the toilet?”

“The toilet?”

“It wasn’t flushing well, so I fixed it.”

“No wonder… You know how to fix that too?”

“I once served a physics professor. After I joined him, he successfully proposed to the woman he’d loved his whole life.”

“Oh…”

Yejun gave a half-hearted response and headed to the kitchen. A neatly arranged breakfast spread awaited on the table. The stepmother and Jinguk were nowhere to be seen. When Seok Ryu lifted the tablecloth, a mouthwatering steak was revealed, prepared so perfectly that even the angle of the fork and knife felt too pristine to disturb.

“I prepared a simple breakfast. Going forward, just let me know—Korean, Western, Chinese, Japanese—and I’ll prepare it to your taste.”

Since they seemed close in age, they agreed to use each other’s names.

“You can make all of that?”

“I once served a chef.”

“…”

As Yejun began eating, Seok Ryu stepped back.

“Eat with me.”

“I’m fine.”

“Oh, right, you said you don’t need to eat?”

Seok Ryu smiled gently.

“If we eat food, it rots, so we don’t touch it at all. We feel hunger as a remnant of our past lives, but not eating doesn’t kill us. The source of our life comes from the origin stone.”

“Oh…”

Yejun, holding a fork and knife in both hands, answered blankly. Seok Ryu, caught up in his own words, bowed politely.

“I spoke too long. I’ll step back, so call me if you need anything.”

Yejun didn’t fully understand, but with the stepmother and Jinguk gone, he didn’t have to eat under their glares, which made him feel elated.

After Yejun finished, Seok Ryu cleared the empty dishes. No sooner had Seok Ryu started washing them than Jinguk rushed over. Still not fully sober, he rolled up his sleeves, insisting on doing the dishes. When Seok Ryu refused, Jinguk suddenly hurled insults at Yejun.

“What are you staring at?! Close the door and crawl back inside before I rip your eyes out!”

Yejun quickly shut the door, calming his racing heart. He’d been worried about Seok Ryu’s identity being exposed, but the stepmother and Jinguk firmly believed Seok Ryu was human. From beyond the door, Jinguk’s fawning voice came through.

“So, if I drag that loser along, you’ll go see the movie?”

A groaning sound followed from outside. It was the noise Jinguk made when watching porn and masturbating in the living room. Unable to resist his curiosity, Yejun cracked the door open. Jinguk, standing behind Seok Ryu washing dishes, was rubbing his crotch while sniffing Seok Ryu’s neck. One might expect a reaction—whether cursing or indulging—but Seok Ryu continued washing dishes impassively.

“Your neck is so soft and pale. I always thought chokers on guys were gross, but it looks damn good on you.”

“Don’t touch me with your filthy hands.”

Seok Ryu, who hadn’t flinched at Jinguk’s advances, suddenly turned cold. At his icy tone, Jinguk lowered the hand reaching for the choker.

Yejun covered his mouth and carefully closed the door. His pounding heart wouldn’t settle. He’d mistakenly thought Jinguk’s recent calm was because the guardian stone’s power made Yejun more charismatic. But perhaps Jinguk was only obedient because Seok Ryu commanded it.

“When will the effects actually show?”

He’d thought having a garnet would magically transform the world, but the disappointment was overwhelming. Trying to vent to Inoh was useless since he kept ignoring Yejun’s calls, driving him up the wall.

Why did the 100% garnet suddenly get injured, messing everything up? He regretted not waiting for it to recover. They said guardian stones couldn’t feel pain, so claiming it was injured didn’t even make sense. The workshop offered no explanation about what was wrong, leaving Yejun feeling scammed. His frustration and anxiety made him regret settling for a substitute.

Just then, a call came from President Jung Minsu. Today was the last day of Yejun’s contract with the agency. When Yejun answered, Jung mocked him.

—Ignoring my texts now?

“Sorry, I’ve been busy…”

—Come out for a coffee. We were family under the same roof; cutting ties right after the contract ends feels cold.

As expected, a renewal was off the table. It felt less like a contract termination and more like being dumped by a crush.

When Yejun first visited the agency office, he’d fallen for Jung at first sight. Tall and clear-skinned, he was Yejun’s type. Jung was attracted to Yejun too, but denied his identity and got married. After sleeping together the night before his wedding, Jung had been cold to Yejun ever since.

Thinking about how Jung hadn’t supported him properly for three years reignited Yejun’s anger. The roles he’d landed were thanks to buying drinks for directors and playing chauffeur with his part-time job earnings.

“I’ll get ready and come right away.”

As he rushed out, Seok Ryu stopped washing dishes and ran after him. The rubber gloves in his elegant hands looked like roses.

“Are you going out?”

“Just meeting someone briefly. You’ll be fine alone, right?”

Suddenly, the garnet’s eyes darkened.

“You haven’t read the guidebook yet.”

“I’ve been so busy I haven’t even had time to practice audition scripts. Why?”

“For now, wherever you go, I need to go with you. It’ll help the effects manifest faster.”

“Everywhere?”

“It might be inconvenient, but you’ll get used to it quickly. I strongly recommend reading the guidebook.”

Irritation surged.

“Aren’t all guidebooks the same? I didn’t go through hell to bring you here just to hear nagging.”

“I’m sorry.”

Seok Ryu went inside and returned with Yejun’s chestnut-colored coat. It was an old coat from high school, stashed in the closet for years, but now looked brand new. When Yejun stared in surprise, Seok Ryu smiled faintly.

“I once served a laundromat owner.”

Seok Ryu ran ahead to open the front door. They decided to stop by Inoh’s house on the way back from meeting the agency president.

💎

In the dim living room, a beam projector sat at the end of the dining table, and a large screen hung on the opposite wall. Director Kwak stood in front of the screen, reviewing the presentation. Assistant Yang set up printed materials and water bottles on the table. Writer Isaac, visibly annoyed, resented his home being turned into a meeting room by uninvited guests.

Isaac’s “Lake of the Gods” was an epic saga about three children born on a fictional continent who overcome adversity to seize the throne. It was such a mega-hit worldwide, especially in Asia, that people were divided into those who had read it and those who hadn’t.

Songhyul was planning “Lake of the Gods” as a seasonal drama, but Isaac had refused to sell the rights. After months of persistent efforts, they finally secured this meeting.

Cha Yilhyun sat at the table, staring blankly at a piece of paper. Assistant Yang, connecting a laptop, spoke softly.

“Sir, it’s time for the meeting…”

“Just let me finish this blueprint.”

“What blueprint?”

“A Tyrannosaurus.”

Cha Yilhyun began folding the paper’s edges. Lines resembling a blueprint swiftly appeared on the blank sheet as his hands moved. Assistant Yang gaped at the sight.

Director Kwak’s eyebrows twitched as he watched them. Cha Yilhyun often got lost in his own world like this, only to later produce extraordinary ideas. The planning and marketing for “Lake of the Gods” all came from his mind.

He was a lax CEO who wouldn’t care if employees held a campfire in the company lobby. Yet, he was notorious for driving staff to exhaustion until his vision was perfectly realized. Some even said Cha Yilhyun was a young prince reborn as a sociopath.

The worst part was that the moment his imagination became reality, he lost interest and focus as if by magic. That moment was now.

Director Kwak, holding a laser pointer, began the presentation.

“Thank you, Writer Isaac, for taking the time. On behalf of CEO Cha Yilhyun, the PR and planning teams, we present the five-year-prepared presentation.”

Assistant Yang projected an image onto the screen. The novel’s cover filled it entirely.

“After graduating from creative writing, Writer Isaac’s ‘Lake of the Gods’ caused a syndrome, spawning countless imitators and establishing a new paradigm as the bible of Eastern fantasy. Its passionate narrative, deeply infused with Eastern aesthetics, ranks it as a steady bestseller in the West. It has sold 100 million copies worldwide…”

“Ninety-eight million, seven hundred thousand.”

Cha Yilhyun interjected, but Director Kwak continued seamlessly.

“CEO Cha Yilhyun owns the entire series. He founded the company to adapt ‘Lake of the Gods’ into a drama, even naming the company after the novel, as he’s such a huge fan. He’s praised Writer Isaac as Korea’s Shakespeare.”

“Jin Yong, Tolkien.”

The constant interruptions deepened the furrows in Director Kwak’s brow. Never missing a chance, Cha Yilhyun held two pens up to the projector’s beam, casting two horns onto Director Kwak’s shadow on the screen.

Swallowing a sigh, Director Kwak suppressed his anger. Assistant Yang confiscated the pens and handed Cha a tablet loaded with over a hundred games and robot cartoons to distract him.

Fortunately, Cha Yilhyun’s interest allowed the presentation to flow smoothly. But, quickly bored, he scanned the table. Spotting a small piece of paper on the counter, his expression hardened.

The screen displayed storyboards and image sketches—40,000 pieces of concept art by 200 designers. Isaac was too captivated by the lavish, intricate artwork to focus.

“With a total budget of 500 billion won, we plan for five seasons and global distribution. We’ll introduce the production team set to redefine drama. Led by Director Choi Changi, who’s drawn ten million viewers four times, we’ll deploy 20 adapters and top-tier staff across all fields.”

Director Kwak pointed out details with the laser pointer, continuing the briefing.

“The teaser for ‘Lake of the Gods,’ crafted with hyper-realistic 3D visuals true to the original, will be released in three phases. Rumors are already circulating about Songhyul’s blockbuster, so expect explosive synergy upon release.”

Songhyul’s sweep of top talent had sparked outrage in the drama and film industries. That’s how much Songhyul was staking on this drama. As the presentation neared its end, Director Kwak unveiled his trump card.

“Finally, we introduce the leads of ‘Lake of the Gods.’”

At Director Kwak’s signal, Assistant Yang displayed the highlight. Against a vast plain, the three protagonists ruling three continents, along with main and supporting actors, struck charismatic poses.

“Lee Taeon, Yoon Inoh, Jo Namheon…”

The three leads, known as Songhyul’s top trio, were the highest-paid actors in film. The ultra-luxurious casting, rare to see in one place, visibly surprised Isaac. Assistant Yang whispered to the writer.

“For your information, Yoon Inoh lives in the same apartment complex as you.”

“Oh, we’ve met a few times when he visited my place.”

“Wow, what a connection…!”

After the 40-minute presentation, the living room lights came on. Cha Yilhyun clapped first, and Assistant Yang enthusiastically followed. Director Kwak, brimming with confidence, leaned on the table.

“If you entrust us with your work, we pledge on Songhyul’s honor to pioneer the silk road of fantasy drama.”

Isaac, rubbing his gaunt face with bony hands, spoke.

“Honestly, I got chills. I’m amazed at how you gathered such incredible people, and the concept art feels like it was stolen from my mind.”

“Only Songhyul could make this possible. The actors, including Director Choi, are waiting for your approval—for ‘Lake of the Gods’ alone.”

As Director Kwak emphasized, Isaac bit his nails. Rolling his hollow eyes, he paused before speaking.

“Still, I can’t give the rights to Songhyul.”

Isaac pushed back a jewelry box on the table—a diamond necklace Songhyul had prepared as a gift for his mother.

“If we’re done, please leave my house.”

BAM———!

Kwak Gayeom stood frozen in front of the closed door. He never dreamed his five-year-prepared work would be rejected to his face. He’d only imagined the writer begging for it to be made into a drama.

Assistant Yang, dejected, packed up the projector and screen. Cha Yilhyun handed Kwak Gayeom a piece of paper he’d taken from the writer’s house—a business card from Winsplex’s Team Leader Kim Myungjun.

Winsplex once dominated the domestic entertainment industry but was relegated to second place after Songhyul’s rise. As Songhyul built a success myth with an integrated OTT model spanning talent training, production, and distribution, Winsplex scrambled to imitate. Kwak Gayeom scoffed.

“So they got to him first. They don’t have the capacity to handle this scale, so don’t worry.”

“We’re at a disadvantage. Isaac and Kim Myungjun are close friends.”

At Cha Yilhyun’s words, Kwak frowned.

“The rights haven’t already gone to Winsplex, have they? Why are you only mentioning their friendship now?”

“Because I’m confident we can take it.”

Cha Yilhyun stared blankly at the rejected jewelry box before heading to the elevator. Before turning, he tossed the Tyrannosaurus to Assistant Yang, who received the paper dinosaur with a touched expression. Kwak Gayeom pulled headache medicine from his tote bag and chewed it dry, crunching loudly.

Ding—When the arrival chime sounded, Cha Yilhyun stepped into the elevator. The presentation took five years to prepare, but Cha Yilhyun had decided to make “Lake of the Gods” a drama the moment he encountered it ten years ago. Now, Songhyul’s very purpose was shaking. In the scenarios he’d painstakingly written, there was no scene of returning empty-handed. The cooling passion began to boil again.

He examined the Winsplex card front and back, then grabbed both edges and tore. He shredded it until there was nothing left to tear. The sound of ripping paper, like a scream, slightly improved his mood. Stepping on the pulverized card, Cha Yilhyun muttered.

“I wish the real thing could be torn apart this easily.”