Chapter 60
“Isn’t this too sudden? We just enrolled.”
I forced my voice to stay calm, answering slowly. But I recognized this atmosphere—the suffocating pressure of a man who had always wielded power, who no one dared defy. I didn’t know how my father had persuaded—or threatened—Yu Hyunjae, but it was clear he had.
“Actually, it’s better that you just enrolled. If it were later, it’d be harder to keep up with the curriculum.”
“Does that even make sense? How am I supposed to go there with nothing?”
“Why nothing? Your father said he’d sponsor everything.”
My mother replied casually, as if to reassure me. I looked at my father. Him? Sponsoring Yu Hyunjae? The thorn in his side, the boy he’d been forced to take in because of Yu Dohyun’s dying wish? Why would he do that?
“Then I’ll go too.”
“No, you won’t.”
My father answered immediately.
“Why not? It’s a good opportunity—why can’t I go?”
“Because I said so.”
“That’s not a reason. You need to give me a real explanation.”
“Do you have any idea what could happen to you overseas? Losing one son was enough.”
I let out an exasperated sigh.
“You know that’s not a convincing reason.”
“Yu Chanhee!”
“Why are you against it? I want to study and become an outstanding ranker too.”
“Who taught you to talk back to your father like that?”
“Who taught me? You’re the one embarrassing yourself.”
My father looked furious, but he didn’t lash out. Of course. I knew his biggest secret—his weakness. It was almost laughable. A seventeen-year-old kid could make him cautious just by knowing his vulnerabilities.
“Chanhee, you’re too emotional right now. Let’s cool down and talk later.”
My mother glanced at Yu Hyunjae. He slowly stood and gently took my arm.
“Chanhee, let’s go upstairs.”
“Hyunjae.”
My voice came out lower than usual, tense. He hesitated, waiting for me to continue.
“Do you want to go with me or not?”
Yu Hyunjae didn’t answer right away. I was still sitting, so I had to look up at him, my eyes pleading.
“Do you not want to study abroad with me?”
He stared at me. His eyes were always deep, melancholic. The slightly downturned corners made them look even more mysterious, like they’d been painted with a brush.
“I want to go to school with you too.”
I smiled faintly.
“But, Chanhee.”
He continued carefully.
“Before that, I want you to be safe.”
“Why are you like this too?”
“Your dad already explained everything.”
“What?”
A wave of unease made me frown.
“That you’re connected to the Hansung Group’s anti-government faction.”
Oh. I let out a breath, half sigh, half realization. I’d suspected my father knew, and that it would eventually reach Yu Hyunjae’s ears—but I hadn’t expected it to be used like this. I didn’t respond, letting Yu Hyunjae pull me upstairs by the hand.
“…Hyunjae.”
“Yeah?”
“What exactly did my father say? Tell me everything.”
“What I know is what you know.”
“So—”
I wanted to ask outright: Did he tell you about the fake Yu Chanhee’s cruel intentions? But if he did know—
If he started to feel negatively about me because of it—
Only now did I fully understand the fear of being unloved.
“So you hate me?”
“You?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
Yu Hyunjae was indifferent. Too indifferent, almost to the point of seeming emotional. As if he were trying to act like he didn’t care.
“Your dad wants you to cut ties with that organization safely.”
“Don’t believe my father.”
“If you say not to, I won’t. But—”
Yu Hyunjae took a deep breath.
“I agreed because I think the same way.”
“I can handle that myself. It’s not like I’m deeply involved.”
“Weren’t you in contact with one of their executives?”
“That’s…”
I trailed off, and Yu Hyunjae reached out to ruffle my hair.
“It’s okay.”
I stood still, feeling the warmth of his large hand.
“I’m okay as long as you’re safe.”
But that’s not it. I’m not okay. I’m living for you, to keep you safe. That’s why I’m fighting so hard. So why do I have to hear you say that?
***
Back in my room, I sat on the bed for a long time, lost in thought. My father’s reason for sending Yu Hyunjae abroad was obvious. He must have realized that my leverage over him—my connection to Han Jaemin and the anti-government faction—was becoming a problem. Since “Yu Chanhee” had only joined Crush to suppress Yu Hyunjae, my father likely thought it would be easier to just remove the target from sight.
This tenth regression had started just like the novel—with me as the 17-year-old Yu Chanhee created by someone else’s script, not my own. But now, everything was changing.
So… could I survive this time? Could something be different? The hypothesis I’d dismissed hundreds of times began creeping back into my mind.
But—what if? What if something had intervened, twisted things? Too many strange things had happened this time. Yu Hyunjae, who used to curse me, had forgotten the past. I’d seen my father’s secrets inside the Gate. New people had appeared, pulling Yu Hyunjae and me into something resembling normalcy. In a way, all these changes had worked in my favor.
But why?
The world shouldn’t suddenly be kind to me. It didn’t make sense. I wrestled with these conflicting thoughts, trying to see the situation objectively. And then, I realized:
Even if the world helped me, even if it helped Yu Hyunjae—none of it would erase the original sin my family had committed against him. Any happiness I felt before that was resolved would be false. A lie.
***
The uncomfortable yet happy routine continued. After that, no one in the family brought up Yu Hyunjae’s study abroad again. He still went to school with me, ate with Go Hankyul, and sometimes hung out with Lee Joohyun at the PC bang or karaoke. It was the life of an ordinary high school student.
“The students here will become the nation’s precious assets in the future.”
The special class homeroom teacher, wearing a cap, recited his memorized lines like a script. The gym was thick with heat and humidity after our endurance training. I lay on the floor, panting, my chest heaving. Only Yu Hyunjae, who had secretly trained in martial arts since childhood, had made it through the brutal regimen unscathed.
“National assets are protected by the state, but you’re different.”
The teacher continued in a monotone.
“You have to protect the nation.”
No one was even listening—they were all too busy gasping for air—but he kept talking.
“What happens to a ranker who doesn’t protect the nation? Go Hankyul, answer.”
“Huh?”
Go Hankyul, who had been fanning himself, blinked in surprise at the sudden question.
“Uh… legally, they’d probably be punished… for not fulfilling their state-assigned duties.”
The teacher clicked his tongue at Go Hankyul’s uncertain answer. Go Hankyul scratched his head and grumbled under his breath.
“Close enough. It’s considered treason.”
“Ah…”
“But that’s usually judged in combat situations—war or Gate emergencies. As for useless rankers who don’t protect the nation in everyday life…”
“…”
“They’re tax thieves.”
A few guys snickered at the phrase “tax thieves.”
“If your name ever makes the news, the comments will be flooded with hate.”
The laughter didn’t stop. It was too absurd—starting with such a serious tone and ending with something so trivial.
“Not all rankers are like that, but once you become one, you’re a public figure. The world watches you.”
Some of the guys wiped the smiles off their faces, eyes gleaming. The truth was, very few of us had grand ambitions of “protecting the world.” We were too young for that, and domestically, there hadn’t been a major Gate or combat issue in nearly a decade. It was only natural that it didn’t feel real.
“When that happens, do you want the world to see you panting after a few minutes of endurance training?”
So, in other words, you’re all still pathetically weak. I reluctantly got to my feet at the teacher’s pointed remark. The zombified students groaned as they were ordered to repeat the routine. Do it before I double it. Go Hankyul whispered so only I could hear:
“The teacher probably couldn’t even do one round.”
“Shh, he’ll hear you.”
I shot a glance at the teacher and nudged Go Hankyul, but I couldn’t help smirking in agreement.
“Chanhee.”
Yu Hyunjae’s voice came from right behind me.
“Stand in line properly.”
“Huh? Oh…”
Yu Hyunjae grabbed my forearm and pulled me from Go Hankyul’s side to stand in front of him. The hellish endurance training resumed, leaving no room for conversation. Teacher, has anyone ever died from this? No, idiot. As the training dragged on, even the pointless chatter died out.
The moment it finally ended, the lunch bell rang as if on cue. Go Hankyul, drenched in sweat, panted as he turned to me:
“School lunch won’t cut it today. Let’s go out for chicken.”
I was about to nod—today’s menu wasn’t appealing—when Yu Hyunjae cut in. Unlike us, he barely looked like he’d broken a sweat.
“Chanhee, I need to talk to you. Sorry.”
