“Uh, no way—are we in the same room?”
No way, this must be fate!
The overly excited voice made its presence impossible to ignore. Unlike Sihyeon, who looked like he’d had enough, Haeun beamed brightly as he took off his shoes and stepped into the room. Sihyeon, meanwhile, clenched the key tightly in his hand. Even now, he wanted to go back down to the lobby and ask to change rooms.
Out of 94 people, he only needed to avoid four—so how did he end up sharing a room with two of them?
At this point, it almost felt like, in place of the female lead—who couldn’t be roommates due to gender—he, the childhood friend, was getting entangled with the Four Heavenly Kings in her stead. There was no other way to explain this absurd probability that had landed him in this situation.
As he silently lamented his fate, the sound of a suitcase being dragged approached. If Haeun was in this room, then naturally, Haeun’s partner would be too. Realizing that, Sihyeon lifted his gaze to check the boy pulling in the suitcase.
“…….”
Violet eyes met his for a moment, then shifted past him. Hamin, spotting Haru climbing down awkwardly from the bunk bed, openly frowned. “Ugh…” Haru let out a small groan. But the one whose mood soured was Sihyeon.
Why are you coming in here and crushing someone else’s spirit like that?
He chewed back the words he couldn’t say out loud. Hamin entered the room and set his suitcase down in the corner. Aside from Haeun, who was smiling brightly, the atmosphere quickly dried into silence.
In a mood so parched it wouldn’t be strange if it cracked, Sihyeon idly poked at the key in his hand with his fingernail.
“Ugh, I’m exhausted, seriously exhausted. Which bed do you want?”
The cheerful voice broke the silence.
They say you can’t spit at a smiling face—true enough. Just moments ago, Hamin had looked like he’d stepped in something disgusting, but now his expression went blank as he pulled out his phone and tossed it onto the lower bunk. Thud, thud—the rectangular device bounced twice on the mattress.
That was certainly… a unique way of claiming territory.
So this must be how male leads in web novels pick their spots these days.
Once again struck by how far from ordinary Hamin was, Sihyeon felt the gap between them and dragged Haru back to the bed.
While everyone else sat quietly, Haeun alone busied himself, opening his suitcase and taking things out. Of the eight wardrobes—two per person—he picked one and began organizing his belongings. Despite not looking the type, he was the most diligent among the four.
Watching him, Sihyeon followed suit and began unpacking as well.
One became two, two became three. As Sihyeon organized his things, Haru climbed down and joined in. Left alone, Hamin glanced over at Haeun while scrolling on his phone, then ruffled his hair and stood up. Three became four.
“I never thought we’d end up in the same room! I guess there really is something connecting people with the same surname, huh?”
“…No.”
Apparently, the rule about not spitting at a smiling face didn’t apply only to Hamin. Being directly addressed with a grin, Sihyeon found himself unable not to respond, even though the statement was absurd. His denial came a beat late.
He denied it—but Haeun just smiled wider. Anyone watching would think he’d enthusiastically agreed.
That endlessly high energy—like he was excited 24/7—was hard to get used to.
Back when he read this as a web novel, it had just seemed cute.
Like an immature younger brother—something like “>ㅁ<” that made you want to dote on him. But now that he was facing it in reality, it wasn’t a cute younger brother at all. It was more like dealing with an obnoxious, clueless five-year-old.
Actually… a very intelligent one, at that.
It didn’t feel right to dismiss him as simply immature. Haeun didn’t seem that foolish. Sihyeon’s instincts, honed over 23 years, told him so. He paused in the middle of unpacking and observed him.
Sensing the gaze immediately, Haeun broke into a wide grin. Sihyeon instinctively leaned back.
“What class are you?”
“……?”
“The class you engraved this time. Hamin kept making a fuss because he was curious.”
“When did I ever do that?”
“I can tell just by looking at your face, Min!”
“Seems like that skill of yours has gotten worse.”
At Haeun’s sudden comment, Hamin, who had been quietly organizing his things, shot back. It seemed like they were bickering among themselves—yet Haeun asked again about Sihyeon’s class.
He was persistent, with no sense of moderation.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“If we’re roommates, we should know!”
“I’ve never seen a rule like that.”
“I just made one! Should I ask Hamin to add it to the rules?”
“…Hah.”
The conversation veered off in a ridiculous direction. Letting out a dry breath, Sihyeon looked at Hamin. His gaze clearly said, Who do you think you are, adding rules?—but instead of scoffing, Hamin frowned and avoided his eyes.
That was unexpected.
Just like when he’d looked at Haru earlier, that same expression of displeasure surfaced, stirring a strange curiosity in Sihyeon. Haeun, glancing between the two, tilted his head.
“Huh… that’s not the reaction I expected. Is it because you don’t know that Hamin’s the son of the chairman of S Corporation?”
“S Corporation?”
“Cut the nonsense, Kang Haeun.”
The conversation was abruptly cut off by a cold voice. Just like when he’d dealt with Yoo Seowoo earlier, Hamin’s eyes turned menacing as they fixed on Haeun. “Eek”—Haeun swallowed and quickly hid behind Sihyeon.
Having no intention of shielding him, Sihyeon stepped aside. Haeun covered his face with his hands.
“I was just joking, so don’t get mad!”
At the shameless shout, Hamin pressed a hand to his forehead. For some reason, that sight felt oddly familiar to Sihyeon, who briefly shot him a sympathetic glance before looking back at Haeun.
At this rate, with the ability to push Lee Hamin this far, maybe he was the real protagonist.
It sounded ridiculous, yet oddly plausible, so Sihyeon watched him closely. Clicking his tongue, Hamin ran a hand through his hair, shut his half-unpacked suitcase, and strode toward the door.
Bang!
The door slammed shut behind him.
Who the hell slams a door like that on the way out?
The sound was loud enough to echo through the hallway. Narrowing his eyes, Sihyeon stared at the door Hamin had exited through, wondering what had set him off.
Scratching his cheek, Haeun muttered, “I expected it, but I guess he really got mad.”
“If you expected it, then why?”
Knowing he’d provoke that reaction and doing it anyway—it was absurd. Sihyeon shot him a sharp look, as if scolding him for wrecking the atmosphere. Haeun only smiled warmly in return.
Completely shameless.
“Hamin’s cute when he gets mad.”
No. Not at all.
What part of slamming a door like it’s about to break is cute? Had the dictionary definition of “cute” changed without him noticing? Sihyeon stared at Haeun, who simply shrugged. That same smooth, playful air—no less than Seowoo’s—painted his small face.
“You just don’t know Hamin’s charm yet, Sihyeon.”
He didn’t want to know.
“So, do you really not know about S Corporation?”
There it was again—S Corporation. Trying to recall, Sihyeon frowned as a line from the character description suddenly surfaced in his mind.
His parents are the chairman of S Corporation…
He had definitely seen that in Lee Hamin’s profile.
“…I’ve just heard of it.”
“Hm. Your face says you’ve never heard of it at all, though?”
That hit the mark. Trying not to show it, Sihyeon silently urged him to explain. Amused, Haeun rested his chin on top of his suitcase.
“S Corporation. Simply put, you can think of it as the company that runs Korea’s number one Awakened guild. At the same time, it’s also a company that manufactures equipment for Awakened.”
“A guild?”
Like the ones in games?
The word felt both familiar and unfamiliar. When Sihyeon voiced his confusion, Haeun blinked, then suddenly looked at him with pity. His curved eyes softened with sympathy.
“We learned that in middle school… Sihyeon, you’re not as smart as I thought….”
It was hard to tell whether he was teasing or serious—the concern in his gaze seemed genuine. Sihyeon, who had been top of his class in his original world, felt wronged.
Forgetting something might be a fault—but not learning it wasn’t a crime.
“If you’re not going to explain, then forget it. Let’s go, Haru-hyung.”
With no lingering attachment, Sihyeon grabbed Haru—who had already finished unpacking—and moved to head back to the bed. Startled, Haeun quickly grabbed his arm, pouting.
“Can’t you even take a joke? Fine, I’ll explain!”
“Go on.”
“…Doesn’t the name alone give you a sense? It’s basically an organized group made up of Awakened.”
So it was like a game guild—just on a larger scale.
“The guild ‘Redem,’ run by S-rank Swordsman Hayeok-hyung—that’s funded by S Corporation. And it’s common knowledge that Min is the chairman’s son, so I figured you already knew… You really didn’t?”
As Haeun rattled on, Sihyeon processed the information one piece at a time. Then he remembered an article he’d seen recently—something about Hayeok.
“I’m just not interested.”
“Hmm…”
“…What?”
“I just thought that would be it.”
Haeun seemed dissatisfied with his reaction. Sihyeon tilted his head. What, was he supposed to be shocked?
“That is it.”
“Huh? That’s so anticlimactic!”
Sihyeon glanced at the door Hamin had left through.
Korea’s number one guild—that part was surprising. But considering this was a fantasy-infused web novel, it wasn’t that strange.
“How can you not even be surprised? You already knew about S Corporation, didn’t you? You were just pretending to mess with me, right?”
Haeun pressed him with an indignant tone. Sihyeon blinked.
What was there to be surprised about?
After all, he was the male lead of a web novel.
Honestly, Sihyeon was just relieved that Lee Hamin wasn’t ranked number one in the world.
