CRT Ch 5

“So, how much should I pay you monthly?”

“You don’t need to pay me anything. You’ve already paid, haven’t you?”

“I’ve been wondering for a while, but how much do guardian stones get from one job like this?”

“The workshop takes it all. We don’t need money anyway.”

“Wow, that’s some serious exploitation.”

Yejun was dumbfounded by Seok Ryu’s response. But soon, he gave a bitter smile.

“Well, I guess we deal with that kind of thing a lot too.”

Yejun glanced at Seok Ryu with his dark eyes.

“Then what’s in it for you? What keeps you going?”

“It’s enough to see my master happy. That’s what we were created for.”

“Your answers sound like they’re from a vending machine.”

Yejun pouted. Past masters had often called Seok Ryu mechanical. But without exception, Seok Ryu had always been sincere with his masters.

“And please keep receipts for any expenses I incur. When the lease period ends, you can claim a refund from the workshop. This is detailed in the guidebook, so please make sure to check it.”

“The guidebook again?”

On the way to Yoon Inoh’s house, Seok Ryu answered Yejun’s questions earnestly. There was a limit to answering everything individually, so eventually, Yejun would have to read the guidebook.

“Um… could you give me your contact info?”

When Seok Ryu turned, two young women were standing there. As he looked at them, they hid their faces with textbooks, exchanging glances. They were the college students they’d seen on the subway earlier.

Seok Ryu politely declined and exited the underpass with Yejun. The trip took twice as long because people kept approaching Seok Ryu. Plus, navigating the subway was a hassle, making things harder for his master. Clearly, studying theory through audiovisual materials was different from real-world experience.

“It’s inconvenient without a car.”

“Oh, I’m on the verge of being blacklisted, so I can’t afford a car…”

Yejun’s face flushed. Sensing a misunderstanding, Seok Ryu was flustered too.

“It’s my fault for making you take the subway. You’ll have a car and a house soon, so please bear with it a little longer.”

Yejun, looking dazed, trudged ahead. Seok Ryu followed, pulling out a notebook.

“From what I know, celebrities need to join a good agency. Is there a company you have in mind?”

“There’s this big company called Songhyul, but it’s not a place someone like me can aim for… My last agency was already a miracle for taking me. It was the only one that did.”

Seok Ryu noted down Songhyul in his notebook.

“I’ll look into whether it’s a place that will take good care of you.”

Yejun sighed and shook his head. Since Seok Ryu hadn’t shown results yet, it was natural for him to be skeptical. Seeing his master accustomed to despair reminded Seok Ryu of himself rotting in the workshop, and it pained him.

They had just met Yejun’s former agency president to cut all ties. Yejun seemed reluctant to let go, but to Seok Ryu, the agency was inadequate. Still, they couldn’t keep hesitating forever. There had to be a capable company to elevate Yejun to the top.

Since Yoon Inoh wasn’t answering his phone, Yejun and Seok Ryu decided to visit him directly. While Yejun met with Inoh, Seok Ryu planned to step away. The industry was smaller than it seemed. Workshop clients often referred trusted acquaintances, increasing the chance of running into each other. In such cases, the workshop rule was to pretend not to know one another.

Seok Ryu doped the security guard to enter the apartment complex without restrictions. The skyscraper-like buildings and the central apartment looked exorbitantly expensive at a glance.

“I really wanted that car, and here it is!”

Yejun was busy snapping photos of a foreign car in the parking lot with his phone. Whenever he found something he wanted—a car, a house, clothes—he always saved a picture. Among them was an officetel called Songhyul Castle.

While waiting for the elevator, Yejun called Yoon Inoh.

“Why isn’t he picking up? Is something wrong? Last time I saw him, Inoh’s black pearl didn’t look good…”

“The origin stone of a pearl is very soft, so it’s common. If it’s too severe for treatment, they might offer a refund.”

“No way he’d send it back. Inoh got cast in a big drama. What about his face?”

Yejun suddenly burst out laughing.

“He keeps saying he’ll be the destined master for his black pearl, spouting cheesy lines he picked up somewhere…”

“Destined masters do exist. They’re companions who stay with the gem until it dies.”

“Oh, really?”

Seok Ryu had heard that a destined master was connected through the origin stone. Meeting one supposedly brought a ringing in the ears, a surge of electricity through the body, and a light descending, turning the gem into a real person. The destined master, too, was said to be so captivated by their gem that they’d give their life for it.

It was a gem-like bond, formed only when countless misaligned moments repeated and miracles met miracles. Since Seok Ryu hadn’t become human yet, he clearly hadn’t met his destined master.

The elevator arrived, and the doors opened.

“What the hell?”

A chilling voice made Yejun look up. Director Kwak was stepping out of the elevator. Beside him, a man in horn-rimmed glasses carried a screen and projector.

“I’ll head to the CEO.”

The man in glasses left after telling Director Kwak he’d go ahead. Yejun hurriedly bowed, but Director Kwak was cold.

“What are you doing here?”

“Inoh isn’t answering…”

“So you show up at his house?”

“I’m sorry…”

Yejun kept bowing. He hadn’t expected to run into someone like this, and his mind went blank. Then, Director Kwak’s eyes widened upon spotting Seok Ryu, who was looking at him disapprovingly.

Yejun was less worried about Director Kwak discovering Seok Ryu’s identity than about how Director Kwak would view Seok Ryu. As feared, Director Kwak’s eyes gleamed as if he’d found a coveted luxury item.

“What agency are you with?”

“And you are?”

Yejun gasped at Seok Ryu’s reply. Director Kwak let out a chuckle.

“Well, what does it matter what agency?”

Director Kwak pulled out a business card. The card, held between his fingers, passed Yejun and reached Seok Ryu.

“My direct number. Call me.”

Caught in the middle, Yejun held his breath, staring at Director Kwak’s fingertips. Seok Ryu took the card, then dropped it to the floor without looking at it.

“If you want to meet, contact me yourself.”

Director Kwak frowned, then pulled out his phone.

“Your number.”

“You’ll have to figure that out yourself.”

Yejun squeezed his eyes shut. Did Seok Ryu even realize what it meant for Songhyul’s Director Kwak to personally hand over a card? A scream about what he’d just done welled up in Yejun’s throat.

But instead of a tirade, Director Kwak’s lips curled upward.

“Arrogant.”

Yejun couldn’t move until the sound of Director Kwak’s shoes faded completely. The reason Director Kwak was so taken with Seok Ryu despite his insolence was obvious. Reflected in the elevator doors, Seok Ryu was captivating enough to stare at for ages. In contrast, the unknown actor beside him was utterly shabby.

“Seok Ryu, you’re lucky. Everyone’s looking at you…”

Seok Ryu looked at Yejun calmly.

“There’s no need to envy anything. It will all be yours.”

“When, exactly…?”

Yejun shouted.

“How long do I have to wait?!”

Seok Ryu lowered his eyes, lost in thought. After a moment, as if resolved, he extended his hand to Yejun.

“What are you doing?”

“I think it’s time.”

When Yejun resisted, Seok Ryu gently pulled his hand. Even as Yejun tried to pull away, Seok Ryu held tighter. The beautiful garnet’s gaze met Yejun’s.

“You will become an idol to all. Everyone will pledge their lives to you.”

From where their hands touched, a warm sensation spread. Gradually, a searing heat climbed to his shoulders, as if burning his skin. He could barely breathe. Seok Ryu’s eyes lost focus, his expression blank. He looked like a cursed doll stealing a human soul. Staying in his grip any longer felt like it would drive Yejun mad with the intense colors.

“Ugh! Let go! Let go———!!”

Yejun recoiled, wrenching at Seok Ryu’s hand. But their hands stuck together like glue. He thrashed on the floor, screaming. Only then did light return to Seok Ryu’s eyes, and he released Yejun’s hand. Yejun’s hand, where Seok Ryu had held it, was red and burning. Scrambling to his feet, Yejun fled.

💎

Yejun sat dazed on a bus stop bench. Worrying about Inoh when his own life was a mess was laughable, and his constantly failing existence made him nauseous.

His gaze drifted to a movie poster across the street. It was for an action thriller starring Lee Taeon, released recently. It surpassed three million viewers in a week, putting him on the cusp of being the youngest actor to draw 100 million viewers. Director Kwak had discovered Lee Taeon, a former unknown model. Inoh, too, was chosen by Director Kwak to reach his current status. It seemed some people were born with the luck to seize fortune.

While Yejun swallowed his frustration, Seok Ryu went to a convenience store to buy a drink. Seok Ryu tried so hard to soothe Yejun that he felt guilty for being angry. But instead of calming him, Yejun wished Seok Ryu would show some results.

Yejun clenched and unclenched his hand. When Seok Ryu had grabbed it earlier, it felt like his hand was burning, but now it was fine. His palm had returned to its normal color. What was that sensation? Was it just anger boiling over, a misunderstanding? Was believing Inoh foolish? Above all, Seok Ryu had been so eerie moments ago.

It seemed best to discuss with Inoh, return Seok Ryu to the workshop, and get a refund. Just then, a call came from President Jung Minsu. Earlier, he’d acted like they’d never meet again, so what now? When Yejun answered, Jung hesitated.

—I don’t think this is right.

“What?”

Was he trying to find some excuse to demand a penalty? But Jung said something unbelievable.

—If you’re okay with it, want to renew the contract?

“What?”

—I know it’s sudden and confusing, but I feel like I’d regret letting you go forever.

It hadn’t even been two hours since they ended the contract, leaving Yejun stunned.

“Are you… talking about me?”

—Who else would I be talking about?

“…”

—Can you come back to the office now? No, I’ll come to you!

Jung’s voice was desperate.

“No, no, I’ll come.”

—Thank you, thank you! You have to come!

Even after hanging up, Jung sent messages to confirm multiple times. Yejun stared at his phone in disbelief.

Seok Ryu wandered the busy streets looking for a convenience store. Spotting one across the traffic light, he quickened his pace, excited. He’d only seen convenience stores on TV and was visiting one for the first time. Hands-on experience was the best way to learn. Past masters had secretaries or drivers handle such tasks, so Seok Ryu rarely had chances to gain varied experiences.

Suddenly, his steps halted in front of a building. It was a jewelry store decorated in black tones. The walls, display cases, and windows were all glass, reflecting light vividly. Inside, a few customers were selecting jewelry.

Seok Ryu approached the large glass window. Beyond the transparent barrier, lifeless gems gleamed desperately to catch passersby’s attention. Among countless minerals, some from the Hyun brothers’ workshop stood out. An unpopular garnet necklace sat in the corner.

Gems without a consciousness were mere pretty stones. If lucky, they’d be immortalized in masterpieces or spend a lonely retirement in a museum. Seok Ryu wasn’t sure whether to envy or pity those who escaped the workshop.

“Sanho’s Tears” was renowned across the land for its beautiful face. But its obsession with beauty led it to drink the blood of living beings or perform grotesque rituals. Ultimately, it was dragged by people and drowned alive.

By rule, Sanho should be on that display. Pearls had the lowest hardness among gems, and Sanho was especially fragile. Yet Yoon Inoh forcibly performed the binding ritual and took Sanho. Foreman Hyun, deeming it doomed anyway, sold it to Inoh cheaply. Heewan always felt powerless in such cases.

Seok Ryu gazed somberly at his comrades lying in their coffins: emerald earrings, topaz necklaces, sapphire necklaces, diamonds cut into pieces and reduced to sets. Lined up on the cold display, they resembled a morgue.

He breathed onto the glass, fogging it. With his finger, he drew chrysanthemum petals one by one on the mist—a flower to mourn the dead gems. An artificial chrysanthemum with no roots or place to take root would soon wilt and die. As he finished carving the stem and looked up, he froze.

Across the glass, a strange man leaned against the display, staring at Seok Ryu. When he’d appeared, Seok Ryu didn’t know. A diamond chain was wrapped around the man’s finger, with a blue diamond pendant dangling at the end.

When Seok Ryu noticed him, the man’s lips curved slightly. Like a mineral waiting to be chosen, he seemed to have been waiting for their eyes to meet. His bold yet innocent gaze was far from retreating. Among the dead gems, his were the only living eyes.

The sudden collision of vitality brought a piercing ringing in Seok Ryu’s ears. His heart began to pound as if it would burst. The unknown phenomenon filled him with trembling fear.

As Seok Ryu stepped back from the glass, the man straightened with a stern face. Seok Ryu hid around the building’s corner, leaning against it briefly. Before him stretched a dazzlingly polished street, reflections and refractions blurring what was real light and what was fake life.

The diamond chain slipped from Cha Yilhyun’s fingers. Assistant Yang approached after speaking with the store manager.

“Sir, they say exchange or refund is possible. What would you like to do?”

The shop manager laid out accessories on the display, face full of anticipation. Cha Yilhyun muttered.

“Number. No, name.”

Pardon? Assistant Yang asked, bewildered. Cha Yilhyun scanned the bulletproof glass from end to end. In the moment he looked away, the person outside had vanished. He strode to the door, waving his arm at the automatic sensor. Slipping halfway through the tardy door, he scanned the sidewalk. The street held only ordinary people.

He’d thought it was a life-sized bisque doll. The hair swayed, the body moved, but it seemed oddly devoid of vitality. When their eyes met, he couldn’t breathe for a moment. All that remained was the sensation of chasing captivating colors and delicate curves. He was obsessed with confirming whether those stubbornly wine-toned eyes matched their unyielding hue.

Cha Yilhyun narrowed his brow and turned away. Then, a few steps away, his gaze caught on a window.

A single chrysanthemum was drawn on the transparent glass.

💎

“I thought the contract was done for…”

Yejun walked through a shabby alley, his expression dreamlike. He’d met President Jung Minsu again and signed a new contract. Seok Ryu reviewed the contract on behalf of the distracted master. In one hand, he held flour and black bean paste for handmade jajangmyeon. Seok Ryu handed the contract to Yejun.

“The terms are fine, and it seems they’ve considered you a lot.”

“But why did you tell me not to renew?”

“It’s beneath you.”

“That’s harsh. I know I’m low-tier, but saying it to my face…”

“No, I meant Jung Minsu’s company. You’re destined to be a top actor, and a small company like this doesn’t suit you.”

“So… you’re saying the president wanted to renew because of the garnet’s effect?”

“Yes.”

His confident answer made it feel both real and like a string of coincidences. Yejun, half-believing, led the way. As they entered the front gate, a call came from President Jung Minsu. Sending Seok Ryu inside, Yejun answered politely.

“Yes, President.”

—We need to put your profile photo on our website, so send some pictures. Oh, and no Photoshop. Also, a close hyung of mine is debuting as a director, and I recommended you for the lead. It’s a low-budget film, but he’s a talented guy who won lots of awards in college. Want to try it?

“Thank you so much!”

—I’ll text you the location.

Yejun bowed repeatedly into the air. His first lead role… It felt like a dream. The president, who used to treat him like dirt, was unrecognizable. Was the garnet’s effect finally kicking in? Things might finally be turning around. Suppressing his overwhelming emotions, he stepped through the gate.

CRASH———!!

A loud noise came from the courtyard. Rushing out, Yejun froze at the sight. Broken flowerpots and an overturned washbasin littered the ground, with Seok Ryu collapsed among them. The bean paste packet was burst, and flour was scattered. Standing over Seok Ryu was Jinguk.

“What are you staring at, you vermin? Those eyes of yours have always pissed me off!”

There was no time to process. Jinguk stomped on the fallen Seok Ryu. Just that morning, he’d been groveling to Seok Ryu, so this sudden outburst was bewildering. Yejun assumed Jinguk, rejected after fervent advances, had finally snapped. Like a building about to implode, Yejun threw himself over Seok Ryu.

“Why are you doing this?! Hit me instead!”

“Get out of the way! I’m going to kill this vermin today!”

Yejun was flung back by brute force, hitting his head on the faucet. Clutching his head and groaning, he saw Jinguk rush over, pale with panic. Jinguk checked Yejun’s head and clicked his tongue.

“You okay? Why’d you get in the way…!”

For a moment, Yejun thought he’d misheard. Or Jinguk must have eaten something wrong. The stepmother ran out too, applying ointment to Yejun’s head. Shocked by their behavior, Yejun could only gape.

Yejun shook off the stepmother and half-brother, dragging Seok Ryu to his room. Locking the door, he demanded without catching his breath.

“What the hell is going on?! Why are they suddenly acting like this toward me?!”

The family’s shifted attitude toward Seok Ryu and their sudden kindness to him were shocking. Even more astonishing was Seok Ryu’s reaction. Despite just enduring brutal violence, he looked relieved.

“You’ve had a hard time. It took a while because I was carefully selecting.”

“Selecting?”

“People who will benefit you. I transferred them all to you in front of the elevator.”

Transferred? It was hard to comprehend. Yejun’s legs gave out, and he sank onto the bed. Belatedly, the scene at the elevator flashed in his mind. He stared at his hand. Was he saying the handshake transferred them? Then that sensation wasn’t a mistake?

“But why did Jinguk suddenly attack and curse you? And why the stepmother…!”

“It’s a common side effect. Sometimes, followers who hate their master transfer that hatred to me. Since we don’t know what your half-brother and stepmother might do as you become famous, I made them followers for now. Jung Minsu is similar. And one more person…”

Just then, Yejun’s phone rang. It was an unknown number, so he almost ignored it but picked up in case it was Inoh. His hands trembled from the chaos.

“Hello.”

—Park Yejun?

“Yes, who’s this?”

—It’s Kwak Gayeom.

The name Kwak Gayeom alone froze him. Yejun clutched the phone with both hands and bowed.

“Y-yes, what’s this about…?”

—When does your contract end?

A murmur came through the receiver.

—What does it matter when it ends?

Jung Minsu’s sudden change, his family’s shift, and now Director Kwak’s call. What do you call it when countless coincidences pile up…?

Yejun’s gaze shifted to Seok Ryu. The lustrous wine-colored crystal gently enveloped him.

“There’s no need to envy anything. It will all be yours.”

Over the echoing voice of the garnet, Kwak Gayeom’s voice layered and resounded.

—Sign with Songhyul.