Chapter 24
Right on time, Yu Hyunjae entered the classroom through the back door. When he saw me at school, he looked slightly surprised, but his expression quickly darkened as he bit his lip. He wiped his filthy desk with practiced ease and sat down.
“Damn, your desk’s filthy, and you just sit there anyway.”
“But it suits you, doesn’t it?”
“What a piece of trash.”
A few delinquents hurled insults at him. Hyunjae ignored them silently and reached under his desk. Instinctively, I shouted at him.
“Don’t put your hand in there!”
Not just Hyunjae, but the entire class fell silent at my outburst.
“The desk drawer—don’t put your hand in it!”
I repeated the warning, lowering my voice slightly but still firmly. Hyunjae glanced down, then slowly tilted his desk forward, spilling its contents onto the floor. Among the textbooks, broken razor blades clattered out. The brats who tormented him were as predictable as ever. I hadn’t expected gratitude, but at least I’d stopped Hyunjae from getting hurt. That much was a relief.
But the others saw it differently.
“Chanhee’s too nice, it’s sickening.”
“Now he owes you again.”
The same kids who had been spewing venom at Hyunjae moments ago now swarmed around me, showering me with hollow praise. I finally understood what Hyunjae had meant the other day—You don’t have to act like that at home. The Yu Chanhee of this “tenth life” was a despicable monster, outwardly defending Hyunjae while secretly twisting the knife deeper than anyone else. I realized that no matter what I said, I couldn’t earn Hyunjae’s trust.
“…The teacher’s coming. Let’s go to our seats.”
For some reason, all my past saves had been reset to match the “original story.” Still, I kept my face calm. I wasn’t surprised. Whether it was the original or the life I’d just left behind, the conclusion was the same: Yu Chanhee and Yu Hyunjae were fated to hate each other to death.
I stared blankly at the chalkboard, covered in notes. Nothing registered. After realizing Hyunjae’s situation, everything about this school felt suffocating. I waited until third period ended, told the class monitor I was leaving, and slipped out of the classroom. I felt Hyunjae’s gaze on me but didn’t react. Maybe he was relieved. I walked across the schoolyard, my injured leg throbbing painfully.
“Hey, Chanhee~”
The moment I heard the voice, every hair on my body stood on end. Somehow, Han Jaemin was waiting at the school gate, dressed casually with a cap pulled low. Fortunately, a school security guard stood nearby, so at least we weren’t alone.
“You know this kid?”
The guard brightened when he saw me, as if he’d been arguing with Han Jaemin for the past twenty minutes. I glanced at Han Jaemin and nodded slightly.
“I told you, I really do.”
I hoped the guard would firmly refuse entry, even if we were acquainted. But instead, he looked relieved and returned to the office, leaving us alone.
“Playing hooky?”
“……I’m hurt.”
“Yeah, right. Didn’t you say you weren’t coming to school until graduation?”
“Yeah. I won’t from now on.”
“Good. I was gonna kill you if you kept showing up.”
I glared at Han Jaemin. It was a miracle I’d survived this long with so many people wanting me dead.
“Kids your age make too many mistakes at school.”
“……I’m not like them, so don’t worry.”
“Hmm~ Unless you get a girlfriend, who knows?”
Han Jaemin politely opened the passenger door of his car. I had no choice but to comply with his silent coercion.
“Still don’t trust me?”
“In this line of work, you don’t survive without suspicion.”
Han Jaemin started the engine and drove slowly. I took off my bag, hugged it in front of me, and slumped in the seat. The bag was light without books, but I didn’t care. I buried my face in it, inhaling the faint scent of the perfume I’d sprayed earlier—the same one from the powder room. Hyunjae’s scent lingered in my nose. Only then did my mind settle, and I closed my eyes.
“Damn, you’re messed up, Chanhee.”
Han Jaemin suddenly blurted out.
“Did you steal your brother’s perfume and spray it?”
“……What?”
“It’s a trashy thought, but I kinda love it.”
Han Jaemin snatched the bag from my hands and sniffed it. I scrambled for a response, knowing that the wrong answer could land me in trouble again. But the tiny, unchanged details of this world—ones I hadn’t influenced—were beyond my understanding.
The scent of Hyunjae from my past life. But the same perfume as Dohyun’s.
I suddenly remembered Cha Suhyun’s line right before my first death: “The same perfume as your brother.” I didn’t like wearing perfume, but I did like smelling it on others. If I smelled like it, there was only one reason: I’d picked it up from Hyunjae. Which meant Hyunjae and Dohyun used the same perfume.
“……It’s Hyunjae’s favorite scent.”
Han Jaemin laughed, genuinely amused.
“You really are a demon, huh?”
I stared ahead, expressionless. Maybe I should try acting after I die again.
“Is Hyunjae still the class outcast?”
“Why do you care?”
“Kids can be so cruel, you know?”
“Says you?”
“You’re the scariest of them all, Chanhee.”
“Cut the bullshit and shut up.”
“There’s someone you want gone, right?”
I subtly raised an eyebrow.
“If that guy disappears, life gets easier, doesn’t it?”
Han Jaemin reached out and ruffled my hair, looking satisfied. For some reason, my cynical answers seemed to earn his trust.
“I like that attitude.”
“Villainous line.”
“Am I the only one?”
“……You’re such trash.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them. Han Jaemin chuckled.
“Yeah, you are trash, Chanhee.”
Yeah. More than I thought, this fucked-up piece of shit named Yu Chanhee.
***
We pulled up in front of a building in the bustling Gwanghwamun district, just as lunchtime began. I’d expected another secluded spot like yesterday, but the crowded location caught me off guard. Han Jaemin strode confidently into the building, and I followed closely, afraid of getting left behind. The lobby even had a proper reception desk.
“Good afternoon, Director.”
The staff greeted Han Jaemin familiarly as we approached. Given that he was called “Director” despite being only in his early thirties, this place was likely the Crush headquarters—or at least a front company he ran.
“Don’t send anyone up for three hours.”
The employees, disciplined as soldiers, nodded in unison.
“Let’s go up.”
I fidgeted with the hem of my school uniform as I followed Han Jaemin. It was my first time entering a corporate building in my uniform. After a few seconds in the transparent elevator, we arrived at the top floor. A few secretaries greeted us the moment the doors opened, just as rigidly as the lobby staff. At this point, Han Jaemin—dressed like a college student in jeans and a hoodie—seemed almost impressive.
“Ugh, I hate being called ‘Director.’ Feels like I’m some old man.”
“……Because you are the director?”
“I’ve never even worked at a company. I’m more of an action leader.”
“Then get them to call you ‘Action Leader.’”
Han Jaemin flopped onto a large sofa and crossed his legs. The nameplate on the desk inside didn’t actually have his name on it. The company’s public face and its internal operations must have been completely separate.
Han Jaemin tossed me a small envelope from his pocket. Inside were rows of unassuming pill packets. I instantly recognized them as the tools that fed Yu Chanhee’s darkest desires. Playing along, I responded quickly.
“Guess you really trust me, huh. Giving me these.”
“If you’re fake, you’ll just end up brain-dead anyway.”
“Nice logic.”
I walked to the water dispenser to take the pills, pretending to accept it all. Right now, my only option was to play along. Next to the dispenser was a sleek wooden bookshelf. One shelf held a few neatly arranged family photos. I immediately recognized Han Jaemin as the small child standing between two adults. How? That filthy glare—it was unmistakable. Noticing me looking, Han Jaemin twisted in his seat to speak.
“If you betray me, Chanhee…”
I rolled my eyes without turning around.
“…I’ll drag your parents out instead of Dohyun and send you straight to hell.”
“What the fuck…”
Han Jaemin laughed, but it wasn’t funny.
“Oh right, then my parents would just kill both brothers.”
Both brothers. I knew he meant me and Dohyun. So among the three smiling faces in that frozen photo, at least one was the real killer—the one who had murdered Dohyun and thrown Hyunjae into a crucible of suffering. Hyunjae’s suffering was the root of my own endless misery. My head throbbed. Piecing together these fragmented truths was breaking what little was left of my sanity. But these brutal, merciless facts kept flooding in, and I had no choice but to accept them.
“That won’t happen.”
I managed to reply.
“Good. I’ll trust you.”
Han Jaemin looked me straight in the eye and answered slowly.
