How would Jeong Seong-hyu react to something straight out of a trashy soap opera like this?
Cha Eui-sung turned his head slightly and met Jeong Seong-hyu’s gaze—surprisingly calm, more so than he expected.
Not as shaken as I thought.
Well, this was a guy who’d studied the human mind and probably encountered every type of case imaginable. A comment that sounded like it came from a spy thriller probably wouldn’t faze him much. Even if, deep down, he was cursing him out like, ‘This sociopathic bastard’s spouting shit again,’ he’d never let it show on his face.
Which only made Cha Eui-sung more curious—what kind of response would the man offer? Would he just nod soullessly and say something like “That’s understandable”?
“So that’s why it’s been harder for you to define the relationship.”
“……”
“And if you do reach your intended goal, you’ll have to leave your friend’s side?”
“Uh…”
Caught off guard by the unexpected reply, Cha Eui-sung froze for a beat. His expression went blank before he quickly realized how dumb he looked and fixed his face in a rush.
“No, I mean… I’m not exactly sure about that.”
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he answered, and Jeong Seong-hyu quietly looked at him. Maybe he realized how personal this was—he hadn’t even put his hands on the keyboard. He simply waited in silence until Eui-sung lowered his hand from the back of his neck.
It was the same counseling style as always, yet somehow that silent patience struck a chord. Normally, he would’ve clammed up and steered the topic elsewhere by now.
“If it’s not an unavoidable situation—and if your desire to stay is strong—then is there really a reason you have to part ways? Of course, there’s still the issue of deceiving the other person, so you’d need to address that first.”
That textbook response suddenly felt like a mountain slamming into him.
Like something cracked open. A dam bursting. Cha Eui-sung forgot to gauge the man’s reaction and just blurted it out.
“I thought so too. That’s why I planned to just keep him close and pretend nothing was wrong…”
“Mm.”
“But it seems like my patron doesn’t approve of him. For some reason.”
Even though he’d tried to sugarcoat it, he didn’t know why he’d gone that far with the confession. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to stop talking.
“Patron?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a patron. This whole act—getting close to him—was on that bastard’s orders.”
“Ah.”
“And there’s someone else who knows I approached him with ulterior motives… I’m just waiting, dreading the day he spills everything.”
He’d just been running his mouth, but it felt like he’d scratched open a ten-year-old scab and finally let it breathe. That legendary self-restraint of his hadn’t stood a chance—it completely crumbled.
Meanwhile, Jeong Seong-hyu merely nodded, face devoid of judgment, as if he were just absorbing the story. It was surely all calculated, yet for some reason, that made it feel all the more comforting.
“Is it the guilt or the sense of danger that’s getting in the way of your connection?”
“Guilt… Honestly, sorry to say, I don’t really feel any. I mean, it’s not like I had a choice.”
He knew he sounded like an asshole, but what else could he say? Anyone in his situation would’ve had two options: do nothing and die, or go in and execute the mission. There was no third route.
But seriously, why the hell am I saying all this?
The same thought kept circling his mind, but it didn’t make his lips stop moving. There was no sense of closure, no internal brake. And that natural flow—that made him anxious.
Not because he feared Jeong Seong-hyu might leak it or do something shady with the info, but because once again, he was watching himself unravel… and that version of himself felt so alien.
“…Phew.”
Still, he finally managed to shut up. Cha Eui-sung let out a breath so deep his ribcage heaved, then slumped back into the couch.
Only then did he realize he’d been sitting upright this whole time, tension riding his spine. He’d been so consumed with resentment and tangled thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed.
A brief silence followed. It was as if he were being allowed a moment to collect himself. Jeong Seong-hyu probably found it easier when the client talked freely, but even so, the gesture felt unexpectedly considerate.
I guess if I’d dumped all this and just walked out, I wouldn’t have come back.
Maybe others wouldn’t, but he definitely wouldn’t have. Even now, having word-vomited all over the place, he scratched behind his ear sheepishly.
The conversation didn’t pick back up until much later. Only after Cha Eui-sung rested both hands neatly over his stomach again did Jeong Seong-hyu speak.
“It’s true that since you began talking about your friend, there’s been a marked improvement. However… I can’t tell you to keep deceiving him just so you can stay by his side.”
“…Yeah, that’s fair.”
“And personally, I don’t believe there’s such a thing as a secret that lasts forever. Even if there were, the longer you carry it, the more it’ll gnaw at you—keep you anxious, on edge.”
This, too, was so textbook it was almost grating to hear. The sharp precision of his assessment pierced like an arrow, embedding itself deep in Cha Eui-sung’s chest.
When he looked up at the ceiling without replying, Jeong Seong-hyu fell silent again. He was likely assessing whether it was the right moment to ask another question or steer the conversation elsewhere. An utterly unpleasant kind of scrutiny—yet for some reason, Cha Eui-sung found himself waiting for the outcome.
“You mentioned someone already knows. If that’s the case, it’s unlikely you’ll be able to hide it forever.”
“……”
“So then, think about this: if your friend is going to find out, which would be more devastating? Hearing it from someone else… or hearing it directly from you?”
“……”
“I imagine you already know which one would be easier for him to accept. Of course, I’m only offering advice based on a very limited understanding of the situation.”
Rrkk.
Only his pupils shifted slightly from side to side. Even Cha Eui-sung himself didn’t know whether his silence meant he was rejecting the conversation or simply couldn’t find the words.
Just like Jeong Seong-hyu said, this whole conversation was skimming the surface. There was no way this laid-back doctor could grasp the fact that the fate of the world was on the line here.
And yet, Eui-sung still couldn’t get a firm grip on how he felt. His expression remained dark and sour as he stared blankly at the ceiling.
It was starting to feel like the pure white surface was writhing, twisting in on itself.
“Of course it’d be the former.”
But if he said that out loud now, everything would fall apart before he even reached the destination. He’d lose Moon Tae-young, and he’d lose control over his own future. The absolute worst-case scenario.
And if he were to come clean and ask for help… would he really accept it? Could he even cooperate? A Demon King trailed by Outer Gods?
The heart that had pounded for a brief second now sank coldly back into his chest. Cha Eui-sung felt like he was drifting across an endless sea on a flimsy, splintered plank.
Jeong Seong-hyu must’ve noticed the expression gradually fading from his well-sculpted face, because he simply nodded in silence. It wasn’t a nod of agreement—but one that seemed to say, “I’ll back off if this is too uncomfortable.” A quiet offer of space.
“I know this might sound presumptuous, but in the course of these sessions, I get a sense of the way my clients think. And when I talk with you, Eui-sung, I get the strong impression that deep down, you already know what you need to do. You’ve already made up your mind in your head.”
“……”
“Even so, I still believe I can be of help. That’s all I can say. If the choice you mentioned really is right in front of you, then even if you can’t reach a decision right away… you won’t be able to put it off forever.”
“……”
“I haven’t known you long, but I’ve always felt you were incredibly sharp and decisive. I may offer suggestions, but ultimately, the burden of choice lies with you.”
“…Yeah. That’s true.”
In the end, it only served to reinforce what he already knew—the decision was imminent. Cha Eui-sung bit the inside of his cheek quietly, the weight of it digging deeper into his mind.
As if you didn’t waver like a reed over the whole Jo Tae-jong mess. Who are you to be giving me advice…
Bitterness surged in bursts, but he had no real rebuttal—because Jeong Seong-hyu wasn’t wrong.
“There’s still time left. Shall we talk about something else? I don’t believe we’ve touched on the symptoms you mentioned last time.”
What followed was a PTSD diagnostic questionnaire—something he didn’t care about and only pissed him off further. Cha Eui-sung barely looked at it, biting down on his lower lip.
He was supposed to be sizing Jeong Seong-hyu up, but it felt like he’d just laid all his cards on the table instead. And now, realizing that he’d been the one caught off guard made him irrationally irritated with the man.
Even now, his vision trembled, and in that trembling he could see— the wall of the dungeon from the day he died overlapping right before his eyes…
***
In the dead of night, the area around the abandoned building was nothing short of eerie. Tangled in land disputes and ownership lawsuits, the structure hadn’t even been fully built—left to fester in its desolate, unfinished state, radiating an ominous, ghostly stillness.
Cha Eui-sung casually undid the well-fastened buttons of his coat as he stepped right over the “No Entry” sign and barricade.
There was a faint trace of movement coming from within.
“Told you to come alone, didn’t I?”
“Mmph! Mmmph!”
“Got a bit of cold air in your lungs—does that help you think straight now?”
The man, bound to a creaky old chair and working feverishly at the ropes, started thrashing wildly the moment he saw Cha Eui-sung. But Eui-sung couldn’t have cared less about the veins bulging in the man’s frantic, bloodshot eyes.
With a swift motion, he shrugged off his coat. Then, flicking open the buttons of his shirt sleeves, he rolled them up. Under the faint overhead light, his lean, muscular arms gleamed pale—taut and precise like they’d been sculpted.
“It’s fine if you don’t get it. But it hurts less when you know why you’re getting hit.”
That beautifully drawn mouth curled into a cold, ominous arc— a smile as elegant as it was menacing.
