Chapter 113
I stood frozen, unable to utter a word. I heard what Baek Hawon was saying, but my mind couldn’t immediately process it.
Knock, knock.
A knock echoed through the room, making Baek Hawon furrow his brow and turn his head toward the sound.
Through the open door, I caught a glimpse of the adjacent room.
There was a faint sense of familiarity, but the limited view made it difficult to determine if it was the room I thought it was.
His hand, which had been less than a palm’s width away from mine, slowly fell to his side.
“Stay here.”
Baek Hawon looked back at me as he spoke. The weight of those few words made me instinctively nod.
With a hesitant gaze, he looked at me for a moment longer before turning away.
“…Ha.”
The moment he disappeared past the door and out of sight, I let out a breath of relief. My legs felt weak, and I had to steady myself to avoid collapsing to the floor.
“This is driving me crazy.”
I muttered under my breath, pressing my fingers against my furrowed brow.
For a brief moment, I had forgotten. It’s impossible to overpower a man like him—a man born with the natural authority of a ruler.
And to make matters worse, he’s far too direct.
When someone comes at you head-on like that, without preamble or subtlety, there’s no room to dodge or pretend ignorance.
Everything Baek Hawon said to me was undeniably true.
“You already know.”
I knew.
“That’s why you did something as reckless as driving a bullet into your own heart, isn’t it?”
I chose that method, knowing it was the only way to prevent him from stopping me. It was the kind of selfish act I despise the most.
That’s why I can’t win against Baek Hawon right now.
This is a situation where I’m destined to lose.
Feeling an instinctive sense of crisis, my gaze involuntarily turned toward the door I had entered through.
‘No.’
I consciously redirected my focus, swallowing the urge to flee. Running away wouldn’t solve anything in this situation.
When he was the one frustrated about me avoiding him not too long ago…
I shook my head, trying to steel myself against the rising temptation to falter. Then, I turned toward the door Baek Hawon had exited through.
Standing in front of the open door, I could now see the room beyond.
‘No wonder it felt familiar.’
The boss’s second office—the very place where I had first met Baek Hawon.
Had I ever been here again since then? Probably not.
“…It seems there has been betrayal.”
From beyond the wall, out of sight, Jiwoon’s voice carried faintly into the room.
Betrayal? I hesitated, leaning forward slightly to peer through the doorway. Baek Hawon’s back came into view.
Is this something I should be hearing? Well, if I’m going to survive here, I’ll need to understand how the organization operates.
Half-exposed beyond the doorframe, I angled my body to listen more closely to Jiwoon’s words.
“It appears Utopia made the first move to approach Jeokyeonghoe. They must have needed the supplies Jeokyeonghoe is managing.”
“So that’s why they’ve been dragging their feet,” Baek Hawon replied.
‘Jeok Younghoe.’
Hearing that name triggered a sense of déjà vu. Was it just my imagination, or did this situation feel strangely familiar?
“We don’t have concrete evidence yet, but based on the circumstances, it’s nearly certain.”
Jeok Younghoe.
That name. I hadn’t encountered it directly in this body, but it lingered in my mind.
‘Ah.’
And then, I realized the reason for this unsettling feeling.
It wasn’t a mistake. I had indeed seen this sequence of events before.
In the story I once thought was a mere novel.
The betrayal of Jeok Younghoe, one of the organizations under Baekcheon. That incident leads to Baek Hawon leaving his post, and during his absence, Kang Taejun and YuHwa storm into Baekcheon.
What follows after that, I know even more vividly.
Yugyeom shields Baek Hawon and ends up being killed by Kang Taejun—a tragic ending.
“Why?”
Why hasn’t it changed? Is this simply a coincidence?
That story should be a future that will no longer occur since I’m here now.
I stepped back into the room and leaned against the wall.
“…Is it not over yet?”
Is there something I don’t know? Something I failed to notice?
A sense of unease spread through me like black ink bleeding across paper.
—
The next day after Yugyeom relayed Doshiyu’s message, I visited the orphanage where Ivy was staying.
Part of it was because I wanted to meet Ivy in person, given her refusal to speak. But there was another reason.
That day, after meeting Baek Hawon and overhearing the discussion about Jeok Younghoe’s betrayal, my conversation with him had abruptly ended.
What was supposed to be a short exchange stretched longer than I anticipated, and at some point, I leaned back against the wall, closed my eyes—and fell asleep, probably due to staying up all night.
When I woke up, I was lying in bed in my room. Baek Hawon hadn’t called for me since.
I felt like I needed to talk to him again, but the conversation I had overheard made more urgent matters arise.
I needed to confirm whether Jeok Younghoe’s betrayal was a coincidence or if the events were truly following the future I had seen.
If it were the latter, it might lead to the same tragic conclusion—Yugyeom’s death. If so, I had to prepare in advance.
I was the only one who knew what would happen next and could act accordingly.
As I mulled over my options, I recalled a specific detail: the time and place where Jeokyeonghoe and Utopia were supposed to meet in the story I knew.
“We don’t have concrete evidence yet, but based on the circumstances, it’s nearly certain.”
In that story, it was Yugyeom who caught them at the scene.
So, I decided to stake out the meeting spot ahead of time on the same day and at the same hour. If the deal took place as described in the story, it would be hard to dismiss as mere coincidence.
—
“Pretty ordinary.”
The orphanage founded by Baekcheon was a neat and modest building.
It wasn’t far from the bustling downtown of Hong Kong, but the quiet atmosphere, likely due to the nearby church, felt distinct.
It was so unremarkable that it oddly deflated my expectations.
“It’s for the company’s image. It has nothing to do with the organization,” came a voice from beside me.
I turned to look at Yugyeom, seated in the driver’s seat, with a hard expression.
“…Did I say that out loud?”
Yugyeom smiled wordlessly.
Sometimes, I genuinely wonder if he has the ability to read people’s thoughts.
“So, it has no connection to the organization at all?”
“That’s right, at least on the surface.”
“Only on the surface?”
Yugyeom got out of the car and casually walked around the hood to open my door.
“Actually, this orphanage is managed by the Do family.”
He extended a hand toward me, the other hand shielding me from hitting my head on the car frame.
I processed his words a beat late before taking his hand and stepping out of the car.
“Kids without guardians are perfect candidates for nurturing talent, aren’t they?”
“…”
“Both the organization and the company are always happy to have skilled and loyal members.”
In other words, if any of the children showed promise, they would be groomed for the organization or the company. It was charity and investment rolled into one.
Even after getting out of the car, Yugyeom didn’t let go of my hand.
When I shot him a look as if to ask why, he squeezed my hand tighter and smiled.
It occurred to me that he might have offered his hand with this very intention.
I laughed quietly to myself, amused by my own suspicion while still holding his hand.
As I followed Yugyeom, a sudden sense of unease crept over me.
“…But how do you know so much about this?”
Given that he’d been staying at Baekcheon, it seemed likely he had joined forces with Baek Hawon for some shared goal.
Still, it was impressive how much he’d already learned about the organization in such a short time.
When I stopped in my tracks, Yugyeom turned to look at me.
The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting shadows across his face, where a faint smile lingered.
“I overheard it by chance while passing by.”
“…?”
His answer was far from convincing, and I frowned.
“You…”
“Let’s head inside,” he interrupted gently.
I followed him into the orphanage, still skeptical, my eyes fixed on the back of his head.
The first thing that caught my attention inside was a collection of drawings, messy and uneven lines filling the walls.
Bright colors like yellow, pink, and blue decorated the space, marked by the hands of children.
“So, are you finally going to tell me who we’re meeting today?” Yugyeom asked casually.
“You don’t already know, do you?” I replied, my voice full of suspicion.
Yugyeom turned to me, his eyes curving into crescents as he smiled.
“Of course not.”
Suspicious. Very suspicious.
“The name was Ivy, wasn’t it?”
Extremely suspicious.
Just as my doubts deepened, I heard the sound of small footsteps approaching rapidly from a distance.
I turned toward the source of the noise, and a small figure dashed past me.
Following the movement with my eyes, I met a pair of wide, bright eyes staring back at me.
“Hi.”
Yugyeom greeted the child, who was peeking out from behind the wall with her face half-hidden, with a warm smile. Her wide eyes, a mix of curiosity and caution, grew even larger.
“Where did the teacher go?”
Yugyeom crouched down to meet her at eye level. With that gentle tone and his striking looks, was there any child who wouldn’t be won over?
Sure enough, the little girl, who had been hiding behind the wall, toddled over to him.
The girl, her hair tousled as if she’d been playing energetically, looked younger than Ivy.
“The teacher is in there,” she said, pointing down the hall with a small hand.
“And who are you, mister?”
“I’m here to visit a friend,” Yugyeom replied smoothly.
Somehow, he pulled a lemon-flavored candy out of his pocket and handed it to her. Her eyes lit up with delight.
“Do you know a friend named Ivy?”
The child, now holding the candy, tilted her head, her eyes rounding in curiosity.
“Ivy?”
“Yeah, Ivy.”
“The teacher said Ivy went on a trip!”
She announced it brightly.
A trip? So she hadn’t come back yet? I looked around the eerily quiet surroundings, finding it odd that no one else was around.
With an angelic smile, Yugyeom nodded and pulled out another candy, offering it to the child.
“Oh, so Ivy’s on a trip and isn’t here right now. Thanks for telling me. You’re such a good friend.”
His soft tone made even me feel a little flustered. He handled children with a skill that seemed as if he’d grown up with younger siblings.
“Do you happen to know when Ivy left for her trip?”
“Hmm…”
At Yugyeom’s question, the girl began fidgeting with her fingers as if counting. She used all ten fingers, which suggested the trip had happened earlier that day.
“Six! She left six ago!”
“Six? In the morning? Did she leave in the morning?”
The girl, who had confidently held up six fingers, shook her head vigorously.
“No, at night!”
“At night?”
The smile on Yugyeom’s face faltered slightly, his expression turning subtly serious. The girl nodded firmly and spoke again.
“She left six nights ago and hasn’t come back yet!”
