Chapter 95
The gunshot rang out like a lie, but unmistakably clear. And just after, a profound darkness descended.
Before I could even grasp the situation, a distinct sound echoed above me—a sound like something breaking.
I instinctively tilted my head upward toward the ceiling.
The lights of a chandelier, dimmed and fragile, swayed precariously. The scene unfolded in slow motion before my eyes.
Bang—
The gunshot rang out again, causing the chains holding the chandelier to the ceiling to snap.
The chandelier, made of glass, shimmered in the reflected moonlight before tilting downward.
Downward, toward my head.
“……!”
Frozen in place, unable to move, someone rushed from behind and forcefully wrapped me in a tight embrace.
The world shifted violently around me.
Crash!
Just in the nick of time, the chandelier fell where I had been standing. Fragments shattered like raindrops, glinting as they rose.
“…….”
A soft whisper flowed into my ears from close proximity, but I couldn’t make out what was said.
After rolling a few times on the floor, I ended up sprawled on someone’s chest. My eyes blinked weakly, with no strength left in them.
Suddenly, my head was pulled back firmly, pressing into a solid chest.
A cool, forest-like scent filled my senses. My heavy, waterlogged mind gradually awakened.
I recognized instantly the owner of this deep, soothing scent.
“……Cha Yeonbyeol.”
A tight, almost suffocating proximity. His voice finally became distinct.
Even though I knew who he was, I tried to lift my head and turn my body, only to find my hair roughly pushed back, preventing any movement.
“Cha Yeonbyeol.”
He spoke my name again and again, holding it back as if restraining himself.
Each repetition made my mood shift strangely.
Clutching the black fabric of his shirt, I took a deep breath. The refreshing scent seemed to clear my mind.
However, the hand holding me remained warm, providing a strange sense of comfort.
“……Long time no see, boss.”
Perhaps that fleeting comfort loosened my tension, I weakly laughed, looking up.
As I spoke, his grip loosened slightly, but only enough to gently entangle my hair between his fingers.
“Making me come all the way here.”
Baek Hawon murmured softly.
The strands of hair scattered on the floor were darker than the shadowy stage beneath them. His eyes, fixed on mine from beneath, held a deeper intensity.
“Did you really think I’d just sit quietly?”
Unlike the soft touch that brushed away strands of hair, his arms firmly encircled my waist. Every touch felt sharp, heightened to the point of sensitivity.
“Did you really expect me to do nothing, boss?”
The moment felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over me. My heart froze, and I couldn’t finish my thought, blinking quickly instead.
Really, Jiwoon…?
I wanted to ask, but my mouth couldn’t form the words. I unknowingly squeezed his black shirt tighter, crumpling the fabric in my grasp.
“Jiwoon is fine.”
I widened my eyes in disbelief. Did I just unconsciously voice my thoughts? Doubt flooded my mind as I retraced my memories, but I hadn’t said it aloud.
“Your face tells everything.”
Baek Hawon fixed his gaze on the ends of my hair tangled between his fingers. There was a subtle smile at the edge of his words.
“Are you really okay?”
“Yes.”
Baek Hawon’s response brought a delayed sense of relief.
Yet, with that relief came a whirlwind of thoughts, and my mind grew dizzy as forgotten details surfaced.
Yugyeom. What happened to Yugyeom?
Frantically, I pushed myself up and scanned my surroundings.
On the dim, fallen stage where the chandelier once hung, amidst the swirling dust, Kang Taejun was nowhere to be seen.
He couldn’t have been crushed beneath the chandelier.
As I raised my gaze to the spot where Yugyeom once stood—
“……!”
I was suddenly pulled tightly again, dragged downwards. I twisted my body instinctively, but the grip around my waist was unyielding.
A large hand gripped my nape, preventing me from turning my head.
“It’s useless.”
Baek Hawon’s voice was cold, almost mechanical. I forgot to resist and was left speechless, my throat closing up.
“This was the position I fought for.”
The hand around my neck was hot, as though it might burn me. I remained frozen, listening to his words in silence.
“Do you really think Yugyeom stabbed me in the back and took that seat?”
It did seem strange.
Unlike in the original story, Baek Hawon didn’t fall in love with Yugyeom at first sight. Yet, he effortlessly infiltrated Bai Chen, stealing critical information, including the casino’s holdings.
The security at Bai Chen wasn’t that lax, and if it had been, Yugyeom wouldn’t have remained so still after assuming that position.
“Yugyeom gave me the information he took from Yuhobum.”
Baek Hawon’s voice was layered with the sound of wind. Then, his words called forth the memory of Lee Chan’s voice from the rooftop garden that night.
‘We’ll bring down Utopia.’
It finally began to piece together in my mind.
“He said he would rise to the highest position. That he would personally shatter Utopia, which fell into his hands.”
Yugyeom had made a deal with Baek Hawon. His words about dismantling Utopia fit Baek Hawon’s interests perfectly—if it succeeded, there would be no risk to Bai Chen, and if it failed, the damage would be minimal.
At that moment, the sound of a gunshot echoed through the air. I raised my head toward the source of the noise.
Where the glass wall had shattered, it was almost like the edge of a cliff. A single misstep would send me, along with the stage below, into a fatal fall.
At the end of that edge stood Yugyeom.
“It seems like you’ve given up on the dream of rising to the highest position.”
Baek Hawon’s words, spoken mockingly, struck me like a lightning bolt.
The gun in Yugyeom’s hand glowed white under the moonlight. Its barrel was pointed directly at the boss of Utopia—his father.
The aim, precise and unwavering, rested on his heart.
“……No.”
No, this can’t happen. I whispered desperately to myself, forcing my body upward with all my strength. Despite Baek Hawon’s iron grip on my arm, I fought him off with all my might.
Yugyeom moved toward his father, following the shattered glass wall. His white dress shirt, stained with crimson, swayed with each step he took.
‘So, I’ve decided to drown in this dream.’
That phrase kept resurfacing, suppressing the mounting anxiety. His gaze, looking as though he had abandoned everything, haunted my mind.
I needed to understand where the dream ended and where reality began.
‘Yes, it’s a dream.’
This memory, unbidden, surfaced at the most inopportune time. It couldn’t be real.
The cold touch against my skin, the gaze watching from above, the tear falling gently down my cheek.
All of these things had to be dreams.
If you had heard everything I said to Lee Chan that day…
‘I hope it was just a nightmare.’
If that phrase had been uttered too.
“Don’t go.”
Suddenly, my arms were tightly held. In the desperation of the moment, I could only freeze. A clear voice etched itself into my mind.
Black eyes, like lightning in a stormy sky, were intense and cold. Baek Hawon gripped me tighter, his hold firm and unyielding.
There’s no time. I have to stop Yugyeom…
“But if you go…”
But how?
How could I stop Yugyeom in this situation?
As Baek Hawon said, I might die before reaching Yugyeom.
“I have to go.”
Yet, I couldn’t just stand here and watch him die either.
“Yugyeom, if you stay like that, you’ll die. You know that, boss.”
I clung desperately to Baek Hawon. There was no time to think about the consequences.
“There’s no reason not to die.”
My breath hitched. It felt like a wall was blocking my path.
Even if I struck with my fists or fired a gun, it wouldn’t break down the wall.
Unable to contain my frustration, I let out a desperate cry.
“I can’t watch him die in front of me!”
“What about me?”
Thump. Thump.
My heart pounded furiously, making my vision sway. The floor seemed to tilt beneath me. I felt like I was about to fall, but there was no support.
Slowly, I raised my head. The distorted face was unfamiliar, blurring the boundary between reality and a dream.
“I can’t watch you die in front of me either.”
The wind blew softly. Time seemed to flow slowly along with it.
In that fleeting moment, a gunshot echoed faintly, almost like a distant dream.
Then something fell onto the stage.
Clearly, it was a person crashing down onto the ground where I stood.
