Chapter 22: If It’s Related
Spending the day waiting for Dohyuk alone at home or following him to Dragon Holdings headquarters made almost no difference. Though Yeon was placed in the office, Dohyuk acted as if he wasn’t there. Sitting at his desk, he processed incoming reports and reconfirmed the Yeouido project without once glancing in Yeon’s direction.
Yeon found that comfortable. Surprisingly, it had a similar effect to when Dohyuk was asleep. With Dohyuk focusing solely on work, all emotions related to human relationships subsided, causing the threads connected to him to settle calmly. If he had known that even without sleeping, Dohyuk could become completely indifferent to others by concentrating on work, he would have targeted these times earlier.
Sitting quietly on the sofa observing Dohyuk’s surroundings, Yeon silently rose from his seat. He didn’t need to get too close to Dohyuk. From about five steps away, he located the black thread originating from him.
It was a thread that had been growing thicker lately, filled with particularly strong malice. If only he could know who was connected to the other end, he might find a solution more easily… Looking regretfully in the direction the thread extended, he had no way of knowing where it led.
Holding the thread, he concentrated all his nerves into his hand. A white light formed between his fingers with a faint sound. Unlike before when it briefly appeared and disappeared, this time the white light flickered between Yeon’s fingers for quite a while. During this time, the black energy gradually seeped into Yeon’s palm. Only after absorbing enough black energy to make his wrist sting and throb did he release the thread.
His fist wouldn’t close properly. He had lost feeling from his fingertips to about a hand’s width above his wrist. Though invisible beneath his long-sleeved clothing, the black energy that had seeped into his palm was spreading up his wrist and along his forearm.
Once again, his vision seemed to spin. He gritted his teeth, unwilling to make another mistake in front of Dohyuk like last night. After repeatedly steadying his breathing, the dizziness gradually subsided. Thank goodness.
Looking up with relief, Yeon met Dohyuk’s eyes, staring intently at him. How long had he been watching? He seemed completely focused on work, not noticing when Yeon rose from the sofa and came over… It seemed he hadn’t been unaware but rather pretending not to notice. Well, it made sense. He was the type to reflexively reach for a knife at the slightest human presence even while sleeping.
“Come here.”
Dohyuk gestured toward himself. When Yeon complied, he motioned for him to come to his side. Though wondering why, Yeon had no reason to refuse. No sooner had he approached the large desk than Dohyuk grabbed his hand.
“Ah…!”
Before Yeon could react, Dohyuk rolled up his shirt sleeve to examine his wrist. His forearm was blackened halfway up as if severely bruised. Dohyuk’s brow furrowed deeply.
“Explain what this is.”
Yeon tried to pull his arm away, but Dohyuk only tightened his grip, causing pain in his wrist.
“I let your flimsy lie slide last time, but not this time. I watched everything from the beginning, so don’t bother making excuses. Tell me the truth.”
Yeon took a deep breath that made his chest heave and swallowed dryly. Dohyuk said he had been watching, but Yeon hadn’t noticed. It meant Kang Dohyuk had intentionally concealed his presence that effectively. Amazing that someone could do that. It was both surprising and sickening how coldly he could control even his own emotions.
“It’s just part of my job.”
He was clumsy at lying. There was no point in making things up when he’d be caught anyway. It was better to tell a measured truth.
“You said your job was cutting bad connections, not being a scapegoat.”
He seemed to believe the black energy absorbed into Yeon’s arm was misfortune. Though not exactly wrong, it wasn’t precisely misfortune either.
“It’s different from being a scapegoat.”
“Then what is this?”
Dohyuk looked down at Yeon’s arm again and frowned deeper. What had appeared like a bruise was now visibly writhing as if alive.
“Let go, please.”
Yeon pulled his arm, not wanting to show Dohyuk that sight any longer, but Dohyuk didn’t budge.
“My wrist hurts.”
It really did hurt. This was a different kind of physical pain from the tingling, throbbing sensation he felt when holding someone’s malicious connection.
Finally, Dohyuk’s grip loosened. Yeon quickly pulled his arm away and rolled down his shirt sleeve to cover it.
“It will naturally disappear over time, so you don’t need to worry about it.”
Dohyuk glared at Yeon sharply at the suggestion not to worry.
“It’s not contagious, so don’t be concerned.”
Thinking that might be his concern, Yeon added, causing Dohyuk to exhale a scoffing breath.
“I don’t care what you think of me, but I don’t appreciate being treated like an idiot. I saw with my own eyes what just happened—do you really think I’d consider it some kind of contagious disease?”
At his tone suggesting ‘what do you take me for,’ Yeon bit the inside of his lip. There had actually been a client who treated it like a contagion. After Yeon had severed their bad connection, they saw the black energy writhing in his body and caused a scene, demanding he leave immediately and asking if he’d take responsibility if it spread to them.
Not everyone accepted things outside their understanding as calmly as Kang Dohyuk. Most people refused to accept anything beyond their common sense, sometimes vehemently denying it. In severe cases, they denied Yeon’s very existence. Kang Dohyuk was like that at first too. Calling him a shaman, a fraud, treating him as less than human with such words, and even now regarding him as someone whose presence or absence made little difference.
“Does forcibly breaking someone’s connection harm you?”
His perception was too quick. Yeon couldn’t answer and tightened his lips.
“So that’s it.”
Having reached his own conclusion, Dohyuk’s gaze shifted to Yeon’s wrist. After staring intently for a while, his eyes returned to Yeon’s face.
“Don’t tell me your collapse yesterday was related to this too?”
“That… wasn’t it.”
This wasn’t a lie either. Yesterday, not enough malicious energy had seeped in to make him collapse. Of course, if he tried to purify a life-threatening malicious connection tied to Kang Dohyuk all at once, it might cost Yeon his own life. But yesterday was genuinely more due to accumulated fatigue, and Yeon had no intention of forcibly breaking bad connections like that in the future.
Dohyuk didn’t take his eyes off Yeon, as if trying to gauge whether his words were true or false. Yeon didn’t avoid his gaze and met it directly. After a long moment, Dohyuk was the first to look away, exhaling loudly.
“Fine, go do your job or sit on the sofa. If you need anything, contact the secretary’s office and ask.”
Whether he accepted the explanation or not, he seemed to want to drop the subject for now. Returning to the sofa, Yeon suddenly became curious and turned back to face Dohyuk.
“If.”
When Yeon opened his mouth, Dohyuk’s eyes, which had been directed at the monitor, turned toward him.
“If my loss of consciousness yesterday was related to my job, what would you do? Would you cancel this request?”
He regretted asking immediately. What answer did he want to hear? What was he expecting?
Dohyuk stared at Yeon with an expressionless face.
“No.”
His answer was short and cold.
“But it would be inconvenient if you collapsed just anywhere, so I’d prepare countermeasures in advance. So don’t hide things and speak plainly. Don’t cause trouble later.”
Ah, of course. The corners of Yeon’s mouth twisted almost imperceptibly before returning to normal.
‘I decide my own fate. You don’t need to step in.’
In his memory, that person was cold but also warm. He coldly said Yeon wasn’t needed, but in reality, he was concerned for his health. Bound by that dual tenderness, Yeon couldn’t leave his side.
Kang Dohyuk was… different from him. He was the one who had said they shouldn’t meet at all in the next life. He hadn’t wanted to meet again like this. Because of that, this time might be different.
“I won’t cause any trouble.”
So Yeon too had to treat Kang Dohyuk strictly as a client and nothing more.
***
After lunch, Dohyuk spent about two hours meeting with team leaders. Wondering if anyone connected to Dohyuk’s malicious ties might be among them, Yeon followed only as far as the meeting room entrance to check each person who entered. This earned him sidelong glances from employees, but he grew accustomed to ignoring those looks.
He spent the rest of his time in Dohyuk’s office. The secretarial staff found it strange at first to see Yeon sitting idly, not doing anything, not even using a phone or tablet PC. By evening, they were shaking their heads. They whispered among themselves, wondering how someone could possibly do that, questioning if he was really a bodyguard. Director Choi had seen Yeon like this several times before and understood their feelings, but having no explanation to offer, he pretended not to notice.
Knock knock. After knocking, Director Choi entered the office and nearly swallowed a groan seeing Yeon sitting with perfect posture, just as the secretaries had described. He was sitting upright, gazing directly at Dohyuk. To someone who didn’t know the circumstances, he might look like someone who stalked Kang Dohyuk out of infatuation. The secretarial staff didn’t gossip about this only because they knew Kang Dohyuk’s personality well. He would never allow a same-sex person with ulterior motives to share his space.
No, that might make it even more dangerous. Even the secretarial staff wouldn’t spend more than a minute with him except when necessary, yet he permitted someone—bodyguard or otherwise—to remain in the same space all day. Couldn’t that invite strange speculation?
It was an unnecessary worry. Anyway, Kang Dohyuk would soon marry Baek Hyeri of Kangsan Group, so no one would spread such nonsensical rumors.
“It’s time for you to leave now. Your appointment with Director Baek Hyeri is scheduled.”
“Have the car ready and waiting. I’ll be down soon.”
After bowing and turning to leave, Director Choi’s eyes fell on Yeon again. What would he do with him when meeting Baek Hyeri? Surely he wouldn’t have them sitting at the same table eating together. Still, considering he had taken him as far as the meeting room entrance earlier, he might keep him in the same space during the meal.
“Reserve for two more people. At a nearby table.”
Dohyuk added as Director Choi was about to leave the office. Two people? Why…? Momentarily puzzled, Director Choi looked back at Yeon, then remembered that Dohyuk didn’t eat alone in the car, and quickly understood what he meant.
