Chapter 5
The most boring people are the ones who never defy your expectations.
Arriving at the parking lot, Woo-hyun stared at the sign for Korea University Hospital Funeral Hall and hesitated for a moment. The only thing he knew about the woman was her name. He didn’t know her age, her job—nothing.
“And now I’m supposed to walk into a funeral home and personally find her just to return her phone?”
He muttered the entire sentence without taking a breath, then exhaled deeply as he looked at the phone lying on the passenger seat.
It felt like he’d gotten himself involved in something completely unnecessary.
He had practically lost his mind chasing after her, and of all places, he’d ended up at a funeral home.
“And why is she so popular?”
On the drive over, her phone had rung four times.
Every call had come from a different name and number.
Few things were more uncomfortable than someone else’s phone ringing.
He couldn’t answer it, yet every ring made him feel like he should.
It was incredibly irritating.
His fingers tapped impatiently against the window frame.
If he wasted any more time here, he’d lose the rest of his day.
Work was piling up, and six business emails were still unread.
Eyeing the funeral hall with obvious displeasure, he finally got out of the car.
Passing the smoking area thick with cigarette smoke, he entered the building where mourners had gathered.
A large electronic display listed three names.
Under stark white fluorescent lights lingered the scent of incense, the cries of grieving families, and rows upon rows of funeral wreaths filling the hallway.
Everything about this place made him uncomfortable.
Woo-hyun slowly walked down the corridor, scanning each memorial room.
People couldn’t help glancing at him.
One after another, passersby looked back at the striking man before tilting their heads curiously.
Where is she…?
Just as he stopped in front of Room 7—the smallest funeral room after passing two unusually quiet ones—
A shrill scream froze him in place.
“You bitch! You damned bitch! How dare you come here?! How dare you!”
He stepped back a few paces and looked inside.
Byeol was there, along with the bereaved family and several others, all desperately trying to restrain an enraged mourner.
“Please calm down! Byeol didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Shut the hell up! Don’t give me that crap! Get out! All of you! Because of you… because of you, my Chae-i…!”
“Please, ma’am!”
“I’m not your mother! Get out! Get out before I kill every last one of you! Give me my daughter back!”
“Hey, Lee Byeol! Get up! I told you not to come! Why did you rush over anyway?! Hurry!”
It was painful to watch.
Despite the woman’s hysterical blows, Byeol remained kneeling before the grieving mother with her head bowed.
Slaps continued to rain down on her narrow shoulders.
She endured the abuse and violence without saying a word.
Woo-hyun was speechless.
The woman who had argued with him so confidently only hours ago now stood there like someone robbed of her voice.
Quietly turning away, he slipped through the gathering crowd and returned to the electronic directory.
Room 7.
The deceased’s name was Min Chae-i.
To be honest…
He had been attracted to Byeol.
He’d liked her.
He’d even intended to use their chance encounter as an excuse to continue seeing her.
He hated admitting it, but the attraction had been roughly seventy percent appearance, twenty percent unique personality, and ten percent curiosity.
But this was where it ended.
He hated complicated women.
Whether dating or marriage, he preferred clean, uncomplicated relationships.
By that standard…
She failed.
Then why am I so irritated…?
His expression, already cold whenever he wasn’t smiling, grew even frostier.
Just as he turned to leave, voices behind him caught his attention.
“Isn’t that Seo Woo-hyun? Chairman Bang’s only son from Muyeong Hotel.”
“Huh? It really is.”
“Did he come without an entourage? Don’t tell me he’s the wealthy heir everyone’s been gossiping about?”
Hearing his name, Woo-hyun turned around.
Two men holding paper cups of vending-machine coffee smiled awkwardly and bowed.
He stared at them.
“Do you know me?”
Most ordinary people would have dodged such a direct question.
These men were different.
Still smiling, they approached him.
“Of course we do. You’re Director Seo Woo-hyun of M&P Holdings & Resort Group, aren’t you?”
The moment they accurately recited both his title and company, Woo-hyun understood the strange atmosphere hanging over the funeral hall.
“Reporters?”
His narrowed eyes openly displayed his displeasure.
One of the men nodded, holding his paper cup between his teeth while offering a business card.
“I’m Hong In-pyo from the business desk at Justice Daily. Nice to meet you.”
“And I’m Seol Chong from Isaac Daily’s business desk. My name’s unusual—you might’ve heard it before.”
Woo-hyun simply looked at the two business cards.
He made no move to accept them.
The reporters exchanged uncomfortable glances.
“Looks like we’ve upset you. Sorry. We weren’t trying to gossip. You know who’s in Room Seven, don’t you?”
Room Seven.
The one he’d just left.
When Woo-hyun looked confused, Hong In-pyo lowered his voice.
“So you didn’t know. I shouldn’t have said anything.
The deceased in Room Seven is Min Chae-i.
An ordinary woman who was randomly assaulted, sexually assaulted, and abandoned at a highway rest stop.
You’ve probably heard about the case.”
Ah.
Only then did Woo-hyun remember.
It had dominated the news for quite a while.
The perpetrator had turned out to be the grandson of a chaebol family.
He’d shown up with five lawyers.
Woo-hyun hadn’t read the articles carefully, but he remembered the media frenzy.
“So the victim was Min Chae-i?”
“Yes.
The court ruling was one thing, but the secondary harassment afterward was even worse.
People claimed she was pretending to be a victim because she’d tried to latch onto a rich guy and got dumped.
They sexually harassed her online.
They accused her of making the whole thing up.
She was only twenty-three.
That would’ve been hard for anyone to endure.”
“So… she committed suicide?”
“Yeah.
And now poor Byeol’s paying the price.
Ah, we call her Byeol-nim because we’re close.
She’s a reporter.”
“I see.”
Woo-hyun looked toward Room Seven for a long moment before leaving the building.
Winter was almost here.
The chilly night wind lifted his bangs.
He finally understood why so many faces around him had seemed familiar.
She’s a reporter…? Why did it have to be…
Stopping beside his parked car, he saw his reflection in the dark window.
A faint crease formed along his otherwise elegant features.
“Don’t come back! Don’t even come to the funeral procession! I know she was your junior, but this can’t go on! Someone’s going to die because of this!”
“Chief, but…!”
“Byeol, don’t be stubborn. You’re making this harder on all of us. Okay? Don’t provoke the family. I’ll give you an extended leave, so just go home and rest. Please?”
On the front steps of the building, the woman everyone called “Chief” gently pushed Byeol’s shoulder.
Moments later, the man who had been restraining the bereaved family ran outside and whispered something urgently into the chief’s ear.
Apparently another commotion had broken out.
Everyone except Byeol hurried back inside.
Even after they disappeared…
She remained standing there alone, wearing an empty expression.
She slowly set down her handbag and took off her jacket.
Only then did Woo-hyun notice.
Her jacket was completely soaked.
The sight tightened something painfully inside his chest.
No… don’t do this.
Why do you have to look like a drenched abandoned puppy?
As he reached for his car door, two sides of himself fought fiercely.
Should I go?
Or should I leave?
That was the question.
“…Hey.”
In the end…
He called out to her again.
She stopped and turned around.
Walking over while removing his own jacket, Woo-hyun draped it across her shoulders before taking her soaked jacket from her.
“Are you alright?”
“…Mr. Seo Woo-hyun?”
The strong smell coming from her wasn’t soju.
It was jeongjong—Japanese rice wine.
Is she insane?
Did someone pour alcohol all over her?
“Unbelievable…”
Glancing coldly toward the funeral hall she’d just left, Woo-hyun pulled her phone from his pocket and held it out.
She stared blankly at him.
Then her eyes dropped to the phone.
Taking it from him, she stood there silently with her head lowered.
People around them were beginning to stare.
Woo-hyun wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
“Are you planning to stay here?”
“Come on.”
“I’ll drive you.”
He reached out and took hold of her wrist.
The smell of alcohol was what started everything.
The scent he hated most—mixed with the aroma of sake.
That was the beginning of this whole mess.
Byeol looked down quietly at the hand holding her wrist.
Then she smiled faintly and looked up.
“Would you like to have a drink with me?”
“You returned my phone.”
“I’ll treat you.”
His gaze drifted over her round forehead, the slightly reddened corners of her eyes, and her lips, now pale because her lipstick had worn off.
His heart suddenly began pounding.
For the fifth time that day…
Woo-hyun regretted his decision.
Because…
Without her makeup…
She was ten times more his type than she’d been just a few hours earlier.
“Let’s go.”
“But after you wash up.”
The rain poured heavily.
Byeol stood there with both hands covering her ears.
Woo-hyun leaned down slightly, looking at her.
“Covering your ears won’t erase what happened.”
“That night, I drank with you even though you barely spoke.”
“I let you use my thigh as a pillow.”
“I even carried you on my back all night.”
Even so…
It was all in the past.
Or rather…
A humiliating memory she’d rather forget forever.
“Th-thank you…”
“You were drunk, weren’t you?”
Well… obviously.
“Very.”
“We kissed.”
She inhaled sharply.
Then slowly nodded.
“I remember.”
“What about everything else?”
“N-No, I mean…!”
You were the one who kissed me first!
She’d blacked out after drinking.
The next thing she remembered was waking up the following morning.
Granted…
She’d awakened in what could only be described as humanity’s original natural state.
But just because two people slept without clothes didn’t mean anything had happened.
“I’m sorry…”
Without hesitation, Byeol bowed deeply.
She couldn’t believe his claim that he’d been heartbroken.
But she was genuinely grateful that he’d never abandoned her on the street while she was drunk.
And guilty, too.
Her long hair spilled down as she bent over.
Rubbing the back of her head awkwardly, she cautiously raised her face.
Woo-hyun stood beneath the umbrella, wearing an almost sickeningly sweet smile.
Encouraged by it, she let out an awkward laugh.
“Surely… he wouldn’t stay angry at someone who’s smiling?”
Just as she straightened—
“What if…”
“I refuse to accept your apology?”
Cold rain splashed across her face despite the umbrella.
“…What?”
Sniffling, Byeol looked up at him in confusion.
Woo-hyun slowly tilted the umbrella.
Against the black night sky, beneath the yellow glow of the streetlamp, silver rain shimmered around him.
His crooked smile tightened her chest.
“I can’t accept your apology.”
“The shock and emotional damage were worse than you think.”
“I lost my appetite for nearly a month.”
“If I calculated all the time and effort I spent searching for you based on my annual salary…”
“How much do you think that would be?”
“I’ll be claiming compensation for emotional distress too.”
“That’s exactly why I found you.”
A devil had appeared.
A devastatingly handsome devil…
Who held grudges for an exceptionally long time.
