CRT Ch 6

This morning, Yejun’s stepmother prepared a lavish twelve-dish breakfast spread. Jinguk offered to borrow a friend’s car to drive Yejun to his appointment. It was the first time since Yejun entered that household that he received such warm treatment, he said. Yet, despite their tearful loyalty, Yejun felt exasperated.

Seok Ryu and Yejun sat at a quiet bus stop, waiting for the bus. Yejun obsessively stared at Director Kwak’s phone number saved on his phone. Then, he put the phone down and examined his hand, turning it over back and forth.

“Just by shaking hands with you, something like this happens…”

Seeing Yejun’s awe, Seok Ryu felt a sense of relief. But it was too early to celebrate; there was still a long way to go.

“I’ll control the number of people I transfer to you each day. If we overdo it, there’s a risk you could get burned, and my origin stone could crack.”

The origin stone, serving as the heart of a guardian stone, was located where a heart would be. A small piece was chipped off and attached to the choker. Shaped into circles, ovals, or rectangles, each was unique. Seok Ryu’s origin stone was conical, about the length of a finger joint.

“So, how many people?”

“Probably no more than thirty at most.”

“That many?”

Yejun gasped.

“I’ll scout and dope suitable candidates, then transfer them to you through a handshake. When transferring, I focus on their appearance, aura, and every detail to complete the process. If there’s someone specific you want, you can point them out.”

“But does it have to be a handshake? It was so hot it scared me…”

“A kiss or a hug would also work. If you have a preferred method, please let me know.”

“I’ll stick with the handshake.”

The key was physical contact with the master to transfer the doped followers, regardless of the method. Seok Ryu preferred handshakes, as they felt like an expression of mutual trust and respect between master and guardian stone.

“So, you’re passing people who fall for you to me. I thought I was becoming a charismatic person…”

Yejun tried to hide his disappointment.

“It’s about altering a person’s mental structure with the garnet’s energy, so it’s slightly different from making them fall in love. Still, they’ll definitely become your followers. Once people start flocking to you, you’ll realize how fortunate it is to have me as a filter.”

“But Jinguk and my stepmother suddenly clinging to me is driving me crazy. Can you cancel them?”

“I’m sorry, but it lasts for the duration of our binding period.”

“You’re saying I have to endure those people for five more years? Is there really no other way?”

“The only options are to return me early or have your followers stolen by another garnet.”

With Noeul eliminated, that wouldn’t happen unless a new garnet was brought in. Devastated, Yejun sighed heavily. That’s why choosing who to make the master’s followers required careful consideration.

“As I mentioned yesterday, we don’t know what those two might do when you become a superstar. Since my doping success rate is fifty percent, I thought it best to transfer them when it succeeds.”

“Wait, what? A fifty percent success rate?”

Yejun asked as if hearing it for the first time. Seok Ryu was equally taken aback.

“Didn’t the broker tell you beforehand?”

“No, I didn’t hear anything. They said you were an incredible gem and to expect great things. The one originally assigned was one hundred percent, so I assumed you were too…”

Seok Ryu bit his lip hard. Foreman Hyun must have deliberately hidden it to put him in a tough spot. Foreman Hyun always saw Seok Ryu, who had Heewan’s exclusive trust, as a thorn in his side. Being treated like a childish nuisance in such a petty, low way was infuriating. The best Seok Ryu could do now was to be upfront.

“My binding ritual and doping success rates are both fifty percent.”

“So, half the time it could fail?”

“…Yes.”

“No wonder the binding ritual with you kept failing.”

Yejun muttered, rolling his eyes.

“That’s why they say to read contracts carefully. It’s like insurance terms with their wordplay. I got fooled because you succeeded every time so far.”

Suddenly, it felt like fighting an invisible Noeul over the master. Seok Ryu had braced for this since the moment the materials were swapped, and it was his burden to overcome. For now, apologizing took precedence over excuses.

“I offer my apologies first. If you complain to the workshop, they’ll compensate you as you wish.”

“What can I do when you’re the only one available? Forget it. We’re going to sign with Songhyul today!”

As if nothing had happened, Yejun’s voice brightened. When the bus arrived, Seok Ryu and Yejun sat side by side in the back. They were on their way to sign with Songhyul. The re-contract with President Jung could be sorted out later.

The silver honeycomb-like Songhyul building stood out prominently in the city center. Giant robot and monster models scattered across the lobby obstructed the workers’ paths. A spiral staircase winding up to the ceiling resembled a massive slide. The only nod to being an entertainment company was the actors’ videos playing on digital billboards.

According to Seok Ryu’s research, Songhyul’s dominance in the Asian entertainment industry was unrivaled. Signing with them meant becoming a star was only a matter of time. Their actor welfare was also excellent. At last, they’d found the perfect craftsman to make Yejun shine.

Every time Yejun spotted a famous actor in the lobby, he jumped excitedly. For Seok Ryu, seeing actors he’d only encountered in audiovisual materials in person was a unique experience.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

As the meeting time with Director Kwak approached, Yejun’s face turned pale. Seok Ryu supported his master onto the elevator. On the fifth floor, a sign hanging in the hallway caught their eye.

[No driving in the hallways, no flying.]

[Do not take found drones home.]

[Do not put fake cockroaches in the vending machine.]

Upon entering the reception room, Seok Ryu adjusted Yejun’s clothes and sat him on the sofa. Yejun, with nervous eyes, glanced at Seok Ryu’s white shirt and wool pants.

“I should’ve dressed as neatly as you…”

“You look like a fresh rookie. If it bothers you, want to swap clothes? Our builds are similar…”

“No, it wouldn’t suit me anyway.”

Yejun turned off his phone, his legs trembling.

“Director Kwak did call me, right? I didn’t hallucinate it?”

Seok Ryu gave the anxious master a glass of warm water. He’d even given Yejun a calming pill earlier, but it seemed to have no effect.

Then, the door opened, and Director Kwak entered. His sleek hair and attire made him look like someone in the fashion industry. Yejun sprang up, bowing so low his forehead nearly hit the table. Director Kwak tossed a file onto the table and sat across from them.

“Ten minutes.”

“Yes, sir!”

“After hanging up yesterday, I wondered if I was being hasty.”

Yejun held his breath, waiting for Director Kwak’s next words.

“As expected, my eyes didn’t deceive me.”

Director Kwak slid an exclusive contract across the table. Yejun, eyes red, stared at the contract for a long time. He wiped his hand on his pants and picked up the pen. His signing hand trembled pitifully.

Seok Ryu closely observed the diamond watch on Director Kwak’s wrist. It was far inferior to a humanoid guardian stone, but even such primitive gems held protective power. Heewan had said a person’s innate disposition and the energy emitted by a gem attracted each other.

Those who favored diamonds tended to strive for leadership in any group. They were highly capable, bringing the most tangible benefits to their master. Though Director Kwak had been rude to Yejun yesterday, he seemed like a key figure in Yejun’s acting career.

Well past the promised ten minutes, Director Kwak finally stood. As he headed out, he glanced at Seok Ryu sitting in the corner—the first look he’d given him since entering.

“Is he going to stick with you all the time?”

“Oh, he’s a friend who’s been helping with my work recently…”

“I’ll assign a capable manager, so send him away. One person treating this place like a playground is enough.”

“I’m sorry…”

Yejun kept bowing until Director Kwak disappeared around the hallway corner. Seok Ryu, for his part, was at a loss for words, stunned.

“Being apart during this critical time will slow the effects. Please order Director Kwak to allow it.”

“Me, order Director Kwak?! I can’t! Tell me to die instead!”

“Not just Director Kwak, but all your followers are your slaves. If you just command them…”

Yejun, pale, shook his head vigorously. Unable to even meet Director Kwak’s eyes, expecting him to act with a master’s authority was too much. In time, Yejun would grow accustomed and skillfully manage his followers.

Just then, a young woman approached.

“I’m Seo Inhae, PR team leader. Director Kwak asked me to introduce you to the department staff. Follow me.”

Team Leader Seo walked down the hallway, giving Yejun the cold shoulder. Her expression showed she couldn’t accept Yejun’s contract with Songhyul. Seok Ryu asked something he’d been curious about.

“What are those warning signs in the hallways? How do people drive or fly inside the company?”

“There’s a nasty epidemic going around the company. An incurable one.”

Team Leader Seo glared into the air, chewing on her words. She wore ruby earrings and a necklace. Judging by the ruby’s hue and wear, they seemed inherited over years. Heirloom gems, worn regardless of taste, made it hard to read a person. But someone who maintained their gems so well likely took good care of themselves. With a decent department and position, she could be useful toCharge Yejun.

Everything had gone smoothly so far, but this moment always brought tension. Seok Ryu took a small deep breath, then lightly tapped Team Leader Seo’s shoulder. When she turned, he focused and locked eyes with her. Moments later, her pupils dilated, and her irises sparkled. The tension in her haughty jaw relaxed. Successfully doping her, Seok Ryu gained various insights.

“Director Kwak heads HR but oversees all departments. As a founding member, the CEO entrusts company operations to him.”

“Is there no way for me to stay with Yejun?”

“For actors under exclusive Songhyul contracts, the company assigns managers. Actors bringing their own staff has caused issues. Why not join the company? We’re always hiring managers.”

Someone like Director Kwak, a perfectionist with a strong sense of authority, would be difficult to handle even as a follower. For the master’s sake, they’d push their agenda, even clashing with the master. Building Yejun’s follower network left no time to waste, and being apart was inefficient.

“How do I get a job at Songhyul?”

💎

Team Leader Seo, now Yejun’s follower, took him to tour the company. The contract’s effective date was adjusted to a month later, ensuring no major issues with Jung Minsu. Seok Ryu sat on a first-floor staircase windowsill, catching his breath. He opened his notebook to draft a resume and update the follower list.

Including the half-brother, stepmother, President Jung, Director Kwak, Team Leader Seo, and executives met earlier, he listed fifteen people. Succeeding with so many targets without a single failure was a first, leaving Seok Ryu exhilarated. At this pace, earning Yejun’s full trust wasn’t far off.

Could he hope Yejun would extend their binding period once it ended? No matter how many binding rituals, Seok Ryu never wanted to return to the workshop. Whether Yejun would endure the painful ritual again was uncertain.

“Ah!”

Something hit Seok Ryu’s head and rolled onto the floor. A white flash sparked before his eyes. The culprit was a black X-shaped drone, one leg dangling from the impact. Now he understood the no-flying rule. Looking around, the pilot was nowhere in sight.

Rubbing his stinging head, Seok Ryu spread his resume on the windowsill. A resume was essential to get hired at Songhyul. He wrote his name and experience but stalled at the birth year section.

His origin stone’s carbon dating age was 800 years. Mined from a cave, it passed through many hands before being restored as a human. He’d been given a public name and age, but he wasn’t sure if they were suitable for a resume. With the workshop’s existence strictly confidential, could he record his information?

“Sigh…”

He could only sigh, staring at the blank spaces. Suddenly, the rhythmic sound of shoes echoed on the stairs. The first thing in view was a pair of sleek black dress shoes. Then, a man’s face descended in a smooth arc.

“You’re always breathing out mist.”

A glassy gleam shone in his eyes. Some minerals can’t be polished into ornaments. Surviving extreme temperatures, they form dense structures, naturally polished into lethal weapons. His eyes were like such a mineral. An inexplicable chill crawled up Seok Ryu’s neck.

“Ah…”

Seok Ryu let out a short sigh. On closer inspection, it was the man from the jewelry store. Even a brief encounter had left a strong impression, making him instantly recognizable.

The man stared into Seok Ryu’s eyes rudely, as if confirming something. Seok Ryu quickly lowered his eyelids to hide his pupils. Usually a dark wine color, they turned rose-pink in sunlight. The multifaceted angles of his pupils could appear grotesque if exposed.

When the man looked away, Seok Ryu touched his neck. His skin still felt slightly prickly. Yesterday, it felt like his heart was being sawed apart—was the strange sensation earlier a mistake? Perhaps his body hadn’t adjusted to serving a master after so long.

The man took interest in Seok Ryu’s half-written resume.

“So your name is Seok Ryu.”

His blunt voice brimmed with unfiltered energy.

“Are you applying for a job here?”

“Yes.”

“Doing what?”

“I’ll be a manager.”

Only then did the man straighten his hunched posture. Just as Seok Ryu thought he’d leave, he sat cross-legged on the floor, placing a square controller beside him. The reckless pilot didn’t care that his suit was getting wrinkled and dirty. Not stopping there, he snatched Seok Ryu’s resume. Reading the experience section, he pulled out his phone and began searching.

He seemed to be verifying Seok Ryu’s listed experiences. It didn’t matter. The resume was just practice, and no one would take it literally. Placing the resume on his thigh, he began reciting.

“Attended Bastian Royal Academy’s 10th president inauguration, observed the final draft of ‘The Devil’s Gate,’ attended Queen Maria’s coronation, model for Lucrezia Borgia…”

His gaze briefly met Seok Ryu’s.

“All you did was observe or be observed.”

“There wasn’t much else to do.”

Those were masters Seok Ryu’s consciousness encountered while in the origin stone. Guardian stones coexisted with faith, staying by people’s sides. Sometimes as part of a sword, sometimes as jewelry, they illuminated glorious moments.

After drifting through many hands, Seok Ryu ended up with Master Hyun. Master Hyun, Heewan’s ancestor, was the legendary figure who created the first humanoid guardian stone and the founding president of the Gemsmith Association.

The man rested his elbows on his thighs and looked up at Seok Ryu.

“If you write a resume like this, HR will reject it immediately. I’d pass, no question.”

“Are you saying it’s hard to get hired?”

When the man nodded, Seok Ryu grabbed the resume and crumpled it. He should’ve anticipated needing a resume, but he hadn’t. His disappointed gaze turned to the man.

“Who are you to judge someone else’s resume?”

“I’m Cha Yilhyun.”

Seok Ryu furrowed his brow. An actor from Songhyul, perhaps? He hadn’t seen this face in the audiovisual materials. Without a watch or ring, he was hard to read. Confusing sighs with breath, he seemed slightly dim or someone who only saw what he wanted.

There could only be one reason he was lingering and meddling. He’d likely been doped when their eyes met at the jewelry store. Sometimes, Seok Ryu’s uncontrollable allure enchanted people unconsciously. If this man was a valuable Songhyul employee, Seok Ryu planned to offer him to Yejun.

“Who’s the highest authority here? Bring them to me now.”

“What for?”

“That’s not your concern.”

“It’s not a request, so I don’t need to comply.”

Cha Yilhyun’s nose wrinkled at Seok Ryu’s response.

“If it’s not a request, I don’t have to oblige.”

Wasn’t he doped? Ruining a fifteen-win streak was infuriating. If doping failed, he’d have to wait twenty-four hours to try again. Since meeting this man yesterday afternoon and it now being morning, a few hours remained until the reset.

“Then tell me where to go to meet the person in charge.”

“Even parachuting in requires submitting a resume first. Break the rules, and someone turns into a Tyrannosaurus.”

Just how deep was Director Kwak’s influence? Seok Ryu relaxed his stiffened eyes.

“How should I write the resume, then? I need to get hired here.”

“Now you sound like someone asking for help. Alright, line up.”

Sitting on the floor, Cha Yilhyun stretched both arms forward. Caught off guard, Seok Ryu mimicked him. Cha Yilhyun grabbed Seok Ryu’s wrists and stood up swiftly. The fresh scent of shower gel hit him.

Disappearing to the end of the stairs, Cha Yilhyun returned with paper and a pencil. He sat on the windowsill opposite Seok Ryu, placing a new resume between them. Writing “Seok Ryu” in the name field, he looked up.

“Date of birth?”

“…”

“Don’t know your own birthday?”

“…”

“Place of birth?”

When Seok Ryu didn’t answer, Cha Yilhyun muttered.

“You might not know.”

He scribbled 21 in the birth year field, then erased it with the pencil’s eraser and wrote 25. Seok Ryu asked.

“Why increase the age?”

“Too young, and they’ll dismiss you.”

The pencil moved to the next field.

“Ever worked part-time at a PC bang or convenience store?”

“No.”

“Certificates? Any kind.”

“No certificates, but I have skills comparable to a laundry technician, chef, or real estate agent.”

“Foreign languages?”

“Well, I speak some.”

His answer was vague. Serving masters of various nationalities and professions, communication was seamless due to the binding ritual. Connected to the master’s mind and body, he understood any language instantly.

Cha Yilhyun scrawled “foreign language” in the certificate field. He then filled the skills, hobbies, and major fields—four sections—with “foreign language.” After that, he stopped asking questions. Seok Ryu began to suspect whether he was helping or sabotaging.

Engrossed in filling blanks, Cha Yilhyun stared at Seok Ryu, his eyes like those of someone about to complete a puzzle.

“Give me your contact info.”

“Why?”

“To notify you if you pass.”

Oh…

“I don’t have a phone.”

He had Yejun’s number but couldn’t share it with a stranger. Cha Yilhyun seemed to believe the eccentric resume but not the lack of a phone. Tearing a corner of the resume, he jotted down a number and held it to Seok Ryu’s face. Seok Ryu frowned.

“What’s this?”

“My phone number.”

His tone implied it was obvious. When Seok Ryu didn’t take it, he stuffed it into Seok Ryu’s shirt pocket. He was definitely doped at the jewelry store. But handing him to Yejun outright felt uneasy.

His attitude, assuming his goodwill must be accepted, was off-putting. Ignoring his ringing phone suggested a lack of responsibility. Seok Ryu needed to closely assess his disposition, position, and worthiness as Yejun’s devotee.

The windowsill and floor were littered with eraser shavings. Cha Yilhyun’s shirt cuffs and hands were smudged with graphite. A forgotten ache suddenly tightened Seok Ryu’s throat. The wrist before him seemed unbreakable, with real blood flowing through blue veins.

“Your sleeve’s dirty.”

Cha Yilhyun checked his smudged shirt and held out his wrist to Seok Ryu.

“Fold it for me.”

Swallowing the pain in his throat, Seok Ryu glared at him.

“Do it yourself.”

Frowning, Cha Yilhyun tossed the pencil onto the unfinished resume.

“Then you can write your resume yourself too.”

What was with this guy? After being doped by a garnet, only unwavering devotion and loyalty should follow. Attempting to negotiate was absurd. Or was he not doped yet? The man’s inconsistent behavior muddled Seok Ryu’s thoughts.

“Seok Ryu!”

Yejun’s voice snapped him back. From the lobby’s end, Yejun waved, arms full of pamphlets. Seok Ryu hurried over to take his master’s load.

“Team Leader Seo gave me some goodies… I just saw Lee Taeon sunbaenim pass by, but I was too nervous to ask for an autograph! He’s the actor I admire most and always wanted to meet!”

Yejun froze, then bowed deeply toward someone. The man named Cha Yilhyun stood where Yejun had bowed. With a face full of things to say, Yejun dragged Seok Ryu away.

💎

Cha Yilhyun followed Seok Ryu with his eyes until he disappeared. Assistant Yang burst through the emergency door, panting.

“Sir, you weren’t answering, and Director Kwak is furious. Winsplex visited Writer Isaac today. What if they’re signing the rights?”

Cha Yilhyun stood from the windowsill and headed to the emergency exit. Assistant Yang rushed to press the elevator button. Despite the crisis of losing the rights, nothing reached Cha Yilhyun’s ears. He handed Seok Ryu’s resume to Assistant Yang.

“Submit this to HR immediately. Make sure to say it’s my parachute.”

Assistant Yang’s face stiffened at the shoddy resume, lacking even a photo.

“But there’s no contact info. Where do we send the acceptance notice?”

Cha Yilhyun let out a groan. Dragged away by a friend, he hadn’t gotten Seok Ryu’s number. Having given his own, he could only wait. Spotting Seok Ryu in the sunlight, he’d doubted his eyes. As expected, his pupils were a rich wine color, his eyelashes a dark crimson. He’d imagined hundreds of scenarios for their next meeting, but reuniting as a Songhyul employee hadn’t crossed his mind. At least he wouldn’t have to loiter at the jewelry shop tomorrow.

“Just give it here.”

Cha Yilhyun snatched the resume from Assistant Yang and headed to HR.

💎

Leaving the building, Seok Ryu extended his hand to Yejun. Hesitating, Yejun shrugged and took it. A warm sensation enveloped his palm, then faded. Squinting at his hand, Yejun cautiously asked.

“Who’s this?”

“The CEO.”

“The CEO?”

Yejun gasped, staring at the hand that shook Seok Ryu’s with awe. Seok Ryu handed him the note with Cha Yilhyun’s phone number. Yejun revealed that Cha Yilhyun was Songhyul’s CEO.

There was brief confusion, but considering he enthusiastically helped with the resume and gave his number, he was clearly doped. As Songhyul’s CEO, he’d be an unparalleled ally compared to small fries. Having landed a big fish, getting hired as a manager should be no issue.

Yejun suddenly went to a corner and opened the contract. Curious, Seok Ryu followed and saw Yejun counting the contract amount with his fingers.

“One, ten, hundred, thousand… two, twenty… billion?!”

Yejun, dazed, caught his breath. Then, he abruptly hugged Seok Ryu tightly. His shoulders and voice trembled faintly.

“They say I can live…”

“What?”

“They say I can live in Songhyul’s officetel…”

WAAAH———!! Yejun, clutching Seok Ryu, let out a wild scream. He ran and jumped through the streets for a while, heedless of onlookers.

They stopped at a convenience store to buy a cheap cake. At a playground near Yejun’s house, they held a simple celebration. Yejun’s flushed cheeks glowed in the flickering candlelight.

“I’m so glad you came to me.”

Eyes brimming with trust met Seok Ryu’s.

“You’re the first to treat me this well. Let’s keep living happily.”

Those words alone felt like repayment for all the hardships. Seok Ryu had escaped hell to find happiness, but Yejun had walked into hell to seek it. Perhaps Yejun was far stronger than Seok Ryu.

Approaching things he’d only admired from afar, Yejun shone on his own. The day the world looked only at him was near. He’d captivate all, basking in universal adoration. Seok Ryu prayed to be there for that moment.