# Chapter 64
“Hey, these days I live for the joy of reading <Regression Law>. That’s why weekends are so boring. Why? Because GyeBokChi doesn’t update on weekends.”
“Just binge-read once a week like me. How can you stand reading just one episode a day? It’s better to wait all at once than wait every day. But GyeBokChi, shouldn’t you at least do bonus chapters for the sake of our friendship?”
Ban Hajun had joined in after learning the title of Gye Minho’s work. At first, he had made a show of reading it out of loyalty, saying he was squeezing it into his precious time, but now he couldn’t stop because he genuinely enjoyed it.
“I was just talking with the publisher about that. Once I build up about 10 buffer episodes, we’ll switch to daily updates. I think we can start daily updates by June at the latest.”
“Oh! But you’re already past 300 episodes, and you’ll switch to daily updates? How many episodes are you planning for the ending?”
“Well… I’m not sure, but probably over 500 episodes.”
“500 episodes? You have no conscience. Talk sense. Shouldn’t it be at least 800 episodes with another 100 bonus chapters?”
“Hey, do you know how many years it would take to write 800 episodes? I’m already past 300 episodes and can’t remember the early details, so I’m writing while digging through my own manuscripts. I thought I had organized all the necessary parts separately, but when I actually write, I need different information. It’s really maddening.”
In truth, just maintaining a solid narrative through 300 episodes was already remarkable. Moreover, it was impressive that it consistently ranked in real-time charts whenever uploaded. Still, it would be both refreshing and disappointing when “The Regressor’s Mnemonics” finally concluded.
“You guys are amazing every time I see you. How do you write? I go crazy just trying to fill half a page for an assignment.”
“I think you’re amazing every time I see you taking photos. No matter how much I try to imitate you to take the same pictures, I can’t even come close.”
Mo Eunje mimicked Ban Hajun’s tone and returned the compliment. Just as everyone has different personalities and charms, they’re also good at different things. Whether it’s innate talent or the result of effort, not everyone can excel at the same things.
“Have you started a new work? Is that why you’re saying such terrifying things like 800 episodes to me?”
At Gye Minho’s sharp observation, Mo Eunje subtly rolled his eyes. His mindset had changed after being freed from the heavy burden weighing on his shoulders, and he had found an area of interest recently that gave him ideas and subjects he wanted to write about, but he hadn’t even turned on his laptop yet.
“Judging by his reaction, it looks like he hasn’t even started.”
“What…? You’re the one with no conscience? How does it make sense for you to loaf around while pressuring me to do bonus chapters?”
“Mo Eunje is in the wrong here. Hey, how could you? How can you talk about bonus chapters when GyeBokChi is so diligently updating his work?”
“Hajun, don’t just go along with him. You were the one who asked for bonus chapters for the sake of our friendship just a moment ago.”
Mo Eunje, unable to listen anymore, defended himself half-heartedly. Gye Minho muttered, “See, he hasn’t even started. His conscience is completely dead,” and Ban Hajun made an irritated expression.
“Mo Eunje, are you showing off because you read books now? Why are you using such difficult words?”
“Don’t you know that even without reading books? Hajun, ‘buhwanoedong’ means going along without principles…”
“Do you think I’m really asking because I don’t know? I just don’t want to see Mo Eunje acting all smart. I know. I know what ‘buhwanoedong’ means.”
Though anyone could see he didn’t know, Ban Hajun insisted stubbornly. Gye Minho, who was about to explain kindly, closed his mouth and exchanged glances with Mo Eunje. Mo Eunje shook his head slightly, indicating there was no need. If curious, Ban Hajun would secretly look it up online.
It was fortunate that Tae Igyeol wasn’t here. If he had been, there was a 100% chance he would have asked Ban Hajun to explain what he thought “buhwanoedong” meant.
“But… how many more times should we meet before I can ask to date without getting rejected? We text all day and talk on the phone every day, but I can’t bring myself to confess because I’m afraid of getting turned down.”
“Hey, that’s not about the number of times. Is this innocence, or are you just pretending to be innocent?”
The topic quickly shifted to romance, and Gye Minho listened to Ban Hajun’s self-proclaimed love expert lecture with bright, sparkling eyes. After about 30 minutes, Mo Eunje, who had lost interest in the topic, called Tae Igyeol. The voice came through immediately, as if he had been looking at his phone.
“Hey.”
“Where are you? Are you done with work?”
“Just left the company.”
“You’re going straight home, right?”
“That’s the plan. Why? Need me to buy something? I already bought castella on my way out of the house earlier.”
How can everything he does be so adorable? A sunny smile spread across Mo Eunje’s face.
“Pick me up at the café on the intersection on your way home. I came out with Hajun because Minho said he was writing.”
“Got it. It’ll take about 20 minutes.”
After hanging up, he sat blankly listening to Ban Hajun’s love lecture. Every person’s situation is different, so it would be hard to apply in reality, but he couldn’t understand Gye Minho, who was even taking notes while listening to these theoretical talks. Perhaps it was proof of how desperate and earnest Gye Minho was.
Both Tae Igyeol and Gye Minho—he couldn’t even begin to imagine what it felt like to like someone that much without any conditions. As an extreme example, he wondered if loving someone meant being willing to die for them. But if that were the case, Mo Eunje reached the conclusion that he didn’t like anyone. He couldn’t die in place of anyone, not even for his closest friends or parents.
Mo Eunje always prioritized himself because he valued his own life the most, believing that his parents and friends existed in his life because he existed first. In the end, he felt that not just anyone could love.
He gathered the empty cake plate while wondering if it was really necessary to experience love. Since his brief first love, he hadn’t developed such feelings for anyone. Looking back now, he even doubted whether what he felt then was really first love. As time passes, memories become beautified, but memories grow blurry and emotions fade.
Mo Eunje quietly stood up, leaving behind the passionately lecturing love expert and the diligent student focusing with all his might. As he was returning the tray to the counter, Tae Igyeol, who had said it would take about 20 minutes, called after just 15 minutes.
“Yes.”
“I’ve arrived. Come out.”
“Should we have dinner with the guys before going home?”
“…Aren’t you tired?”
“Me? What would I be tired from?”
“Yesterday… after all that happened, aren’t you emotionally tired?”
Mo Eunje tilted his head, momentarily wondering what had happened yesterday. Then he remembered crying in front of Author Kwon Jiyeon and comforting Ban Hajun. Come to think of it, it had been a very long day, but strangely, it felt as distant as a past life.
“You know what? I’m not that tired.”
“…”
“Oh, you must be tired from work. I’ll come out right now.”
“Yeah.”
The call ended. He could have just said he was tired and wanted to go straight home, but he was so used to being considerate that he couldn’t say it directly and made excuses while beating around the bush. It was behavior completely unsuited to Tae Igyeol, yet somehow it fit him perfectly, which was perplexing. Anyway, it was fortunate that he was quick to pick up on it.
“Are you guys staying longer?”
He went back to the table to say goodbye before leaving. Without sitting down, he looked at Ban Hajun, who was looking up at him while passionately speaking with flying spit.
“Why? Are you leaving?”
“Yeah. Tae Igyeol says he’s arrived.”
“The gentleman has arrived, I see. I doubt he’d be this devoted even to a lover.”
“How can you compare a lover to family? We’re closer than lovers—we’re family.”
“…”
“Drop me off on your way.”
Ban Hajun sighed with an expression that said he had a lot to say but wouldn’t, and Gye Minho beside him hurriedly gathered his things. It would take about 5 more minutes to detour and drop off Gye Minho, and normally he would take him, but today he couldn’t.
“No can do. Igyeol says he’s tired. We’re going straight home.”
“What…”
“I’m off.”
Ignoring Gye Minho’s bewildered face, he turned his back. Behind him, he heard nonsense like “live well and eat well,” “how miserable must it be to live without a butler,” “if you’re going to show off like that, file your marriage registration first,” and so on, but he pretended not to hear as he left the café. Tae Igyeol’s SUV was parked right in front with its hazard lights on.
“Did work go well?”
As he climbed into the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt, Tae Igyeol nodded vaguely. The car soon started moving smoothly.
“Do you remember the tarot place I went to the day before yesterday?”
“Yeah.”
“I went there with Ban Hajun earlier. Without saying anything, the reader just looked at the cards he drew and said it was a period of transformation.”
“Period of transformation?”
“Ban Hajun drew the Death card, and she said it has the property of clearing things out before moving on to a new path. She said he’ll change completely, as if he died and was reborn. If not him, then his environment.”
As soon as the car started, Mo Eunje began chattering to Tae Igyeol about what had happened at the tarot shop. He figured it was okay to tell him since Tae Igyeol already knew about Ban Hajun’s situation.
“She said he’s at a crossroads between what he wants to do and what he’s good at, between reality and ideal—it was really spine-chilling.”
“…”
“And at the end, what was it called? Oracle? Anyway, it was a card with an angel drawn on it, and when he asked, ‘Should I continue acting?’ and drew it, it blatantly said no, and Ban Hajun was properly annoyed. It wasn’t just ‘No’ but ‘No!’ with an exclamation mark.”
To capture the feeling of the moment, he exaggerated when saying the “No!” with the exclamation mark, making it firm and powerful. He even stretched out his hand in a stopping gesture and shouted “No!” loudly. Tae Igyeol chuckled, perhaps understanding the feeling properly.
