The Line You Can’t Ignore

– Ah, it’s not that something happened, exactly.

He woke up a little while ago and we briefly ran into each other, and he seemed uncomfortable with me being here.

“Right….”

– But I’ve already been paid, so I can’t exactly leave just because he tells me to.

So I was hoping to avoid upsetting him as much as possible.

To sum up Seha’s words, he wanted to avoid whatever Jeongyun disliked and learn anything that might help him stay on his good side.

– I’m not asking for anything elaborate.

Even small things are fine.

If anything comes to mind, you can just leave me a quick text whenever you have time, however you’re comfortable….

“…….”

– You’re the only person I can ask something like this from.

If this was rude of me, I apologize.

“Not at all.

In the end, it’s all for the young master, so there’s nothing rude about it.

I’ll put together something brief and let you know soon.”

– Yes, thank you!

Considering how badly he must have clashed with Jeongyun, there wasn’t even a hint of hurt or intimidation in Seha’s voice on the other end of the line.

He’d said he’d done every kind of work imaginable to support himself and his only sibling after becoming an orphan.

Sure enough, he was nothing like the impression his refined, almost pampered appearance gave off.

“Then I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

– Yes.

Please head in safely, Secretary.

Ending the call with polite courtesy, Donghyeon stared quietly at the name “Jin Seha” still glowing on his phone screen and muttered.

“He’s not ordinary.”

He’d been worried that the young master’s rejection was so intense that he might immediately drive away the person the Chairman had gone out of her way to bring in.

But after finishing the call, Donghyeon had the strange feeling that the young master might have finally met his match.

Had the Chairman anticipated even this when she brought Jin Seha in.

Donghyeon recalled the Chairman’s instruction for him to leave the house early on the first day, so that Jeongyun and Seha would be left alone together.

What her true intentions were was impossible to know.

Whether it was shamanistic belief or anything else, Donghyeon sincerely hoped that his young master would finally be freed from the long, cruel misfortune that had plagued his life.

With that thought, he called Manager Kim.

Anything even slightly unusual related to Jin Seha had to be reported.

“Ha….”

After pouring himself a full glass of cold water and drinking it down, Jeongyun set the cup aside and let out a deep sigh.

At least Manager Kim hadn’t completely avoided his calls like his grandmother had.

But just because the call went through didn’t mean it had been productive.

‘Has the Chairwoman ever done anything that could harm you, young master.

Why don’t you try trusting her this once, even if it feels like a gamble.’

Recalling Manager Kim’s voice as he gently tried to reason with him, Jeongyun frowned.

It wasn’t wrong.

Jeongyun himself had never suffered a loss.

The one who bore all the losses was his grandmother.

Between hospital bills and everything else, the money spent on someone like him—who couldn’t even work—was already astronomical.

And now she was giving money to a shaman on top of that.

No matter how wealthy she was, there was no such thing as money that was fine to hand over to a con artist.

With a heavy expression, Jeongyun walked from the kitchen into the living room and ground his teeth as he looked toward the room where Seha was staying.

If he couldn’t persuade his grandmother to kick that bastard out, there was only one option left.

Make him unable to endure staying here, and force him to leave on his own.

He didn’t know much about what kind of person Jin Seha was.

But judging from their brief encounter earlier, he didn’t seem like someone easy to deal with.

He was clearly the type who would do anything for money.

You could tell just from the nerve it took to barge in here under the excuse of being a “living talisman” in this day and age.

With a chance to make a huge amount of money right in front of him, there was no way he’d leave easily.

“Let’s see how long you last.”

Still, Jeongyun wasn’t particularly worried.

The more Seha was obsessed with money, the clearer the power imbalance between them became.

And the wider that gap grew, the easier it would be.

Humiliating him so thoroughly that he wouldn’t want to stay in this house for even a second longer was as easy as breathing.

How dare he wave my grandmother’s name around and threaten me to my face.

A cold sneer curved Jeongyun’s lips.

One week.

He planned to drive Jin Seha out within that time.

“Haah….”

Seha sighed and pushed himself up from the bed.

The room he was staying in was incomparably nicer than the one he’d lived in before.

Yet sleep wouldn’t come.

Seha had slept just fine on cold floors with nothing but a thin blanket after work countless times.

It wasn’t the unfamiliar bed that kept him awake.

His mind was simply too full.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Seha stared into the darkness until his eyes gradually adjusted.

Information about Cha Jeongyun he’d looked up before going to sleep swirled through his head.

In an era where children of wealthy families became influencers and piled fame on top of fortune, there was surprisingly little public information about Cha Jeongyun.

The last known detail was an article about a car accident.

A vehicle he’d been riding in with his parents had collided with a car driving the wrong way and flipped over.

Both of his parents died, and he alone survived.

It was highly likely that exposure had been deliberately blocked.

After enduring such an unbearable tragedy and then suffering from poor health ever since, constant media attention would have helped no one.

“This is frustrating….”

Scanning the room, now clearly visible, Seha stood up.

His chest felt tight and his throat dry.

He figured he should at least get a glass of water.

Stepping out of his room, the reality of where he was truly hit him.

The home he’d shared with his sibling had been so small that you could see the entire place just by standing at the front door.

Compared to that, Jeongyun’s house, sunk in darkness, felt as vast as outer space.

Walking one step at a time with a strange, unfamiliar sense of wonder, Seha suddenly caught a faint sound in the stillness of dawn.

It was so quiet that it could have been ignored.

But he couldn’t ignore it.

Because it sounded like a human groan.

Stopping his steps toward the kitchen, Seha held his breath and searched for the source of the sound.

As he slowly followed it, he found himself in front of Jeongyun’s room.

“…….”

Carefully pressing his ear to the door, Seha focused on the sound inside.

After a brief pause, it seeped out again from beyond the door.

It was unmistakably the voice of someone in pain.

At first, the unfamiliar sounds in such a large, strange space had scared him.

But now, Seha was certain that the sound belonged to Jeongyun.

Secretary Shin had mentioned that Jeongyun suffered from sleep paralysis almost every day.

That said, Secretary Shin hadn’t asked Seha to help every time it happened.

Jeongyun hated others witnessing him in that state.

Unless he screamed for a long time or there was a risk of physical injury, Seha was told not to intervene.

What leaked from the room now couldn’t quite be called a scream.

And it came only intermittently.

That meant Seha didn’t have to step in.

But he couldn’t bring himself to leave the door.

Even as he told himself to just get some water and go back, his feet wouldn’t move.

Nightmares didn’t need screams to be unbearable.

Sleep paralysis was the same.

If you couldn’t even raise your voice, you could be trapped in hellish hallucinations without anyone noticing.

Seha knew that better than anyone.

He himself suffered from severe sleep paralysis from time to time.

Knowing all too well the agony of desperately wishing someone—anyone—would wake you up, Seha couldn’t just pretend he hadn’t noticed.

In the end, he took a deep breath and carefully opened the door, stepping inside.

He’d half expected it to be locked.

But whether by luck or misfortune, it opened silently.

“Ugh… ngh….”

Just as he expected, Jeongyun lay on the bed, twitching as he let out soft groans.

He looked to be in severe pain.

It even seemed like he was struggling to breathe.

Then, just as Seha hurried forward, his steps halted abruptly.

For a split second, he thought he saw a dark shadow flickering over Jeongyun’s body.

“Ah….”

Startled, Seha blinked with his mouth slightly open.

In that brief instant, the shadow vanished without a trace.

It must have been his imagination again.

The room was dark, and he hadn’t slept properly.

That alone was enough to explain it.

Even as he steadied his racing heart, a chill crept over him and he unconsciously hunched his shoulders.

But when another groan escaped Jeongyun’s lips, Seha snapped back to his senses.

This wasn’t the time to freeze.

Carefully approaching Jeongyun’s side, Seha perched lightly on the edge of the bed and spoke.

“Young master.”

He called out first.

They’d only just met today, and Jeongyun hated him intensely.

He hesitated to touch him recklessly.

But Jeongyun seemed unable to hear Seha’s voice, continuing to groan softly.

“Cha Jeongyun.”

“Hh… ngh…!”

He raised his voice slightly and tried again, but the result was the same.

Jeongyun only frowned deeper, his body trembling.

He was completely trapped in sleep paralysis.

Left with no other choice, Seha gently placed a hand on Jeongyun’s arm and tried to shake him awake.

“—!”

The moment he made contact, Seha sharply sucked in a breath.

An unidentified force surged over him in an instant.