I am not a Yandere chapter 120

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A suspicion came to Seonwoo’s mind, and he clapped his hands with a smirk.

Running a business relies heavily on good service, but knowing Cha Yeongdeok’s personality, he likely hadn’t held back with the customers.

Could his bluntness be why there was a sudden drop in customers?

While Seonwoo was busy with his thoughts, Jihoon, who seemed to have read his mind, shook his head. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not that.”

“Then, what is it?”

“I don’t know either.”

“What? You’re practically glued to Cha Yeongdeok, so how can you not know?”

Seonwoo’s mild teasing left Jihoon stifling a retort.

Even if Seonwoo had been there, he wouldn’t have known either.

The fact was, Jihoon truly didn’t know much about Yeongdeok’s situation.

Jihoon recalled the day when PetitRolang had stormed into the restaurant causing trouble.

Not long after that incident, Cha Yeongdeok—out of character—attended a fan signing event for PetitRolang. Since then, things had been as they were now.

Jihoon had a feeling it had something to do with PetitRolang, but since Yeongdeok hadn’t revealed anything concrete, all he could do was speculate.

As Jihoon brooded over Yeongdeok’s silence, the cheerful chime of the doorbell sounded, signaling the arrival of another visitor.

“Welcome!”

Jihoon quickly moved to greet the newcomer, hoping for a customer, but instead, it was Wonjin who entered the store.

“Hello, Jihoon.”

“Oh… it’s you.”

Not hiding his slight disappointment, Jihoon glanced around, and Wonjin, blinking behind his round glasses, also looked around in search of Yeongdeok.

“Where’s Yeongdeok?”

As he scanned the restaurant, something struck Wonjin as unusual.

Quickly realizing, he noted the absence of customers.

He had just begun to wonder why the store seemed unusually empty when Yeongdeok approached with a plate of freshly made garlic chicken.

“Ah, so you’re here too, Wonjin?”

“Yes… hello. Not many customers today, huh? Did everyone go on vacation or something?”

Oblivious to the tension, Wonjin cracked a lighthearted joke.

Yeongdeok shot him a brief look before setting the chicken down at Seonwoo’s table without responding.

Sensing the shift in mood, Wonjin realized he might have said something wrong.

Feeling a bit self-conscious, he sat down and pretended to study the menu.

“Thank you for the food, Cha Yeongdeok,” Seonwoo said, picking up a drumstick.

The garlic flavor melded perfectly with the savory richness, making it utterly delightful.

If the taste and service weren’t the issue, what could have caused the sudden drop in customers?

As he ate, Seonwoo tried to piece together the puzzle.

“And what would you like?” Yeongdeok asked, turning to Wonjin.

“Soy sauce chicken for me.”

After taking the order, Yeongdeok disappeared into the kitchen again, leaving Wonjin to send Jihoon a silent plea for help.

But Jihoon shook his head, giving the same noncommittal answer he’d given Seonwoo earlier.

When Yeongdeok returned with Wonjin’s soy sauce chicken, he set it down with a simple, “Enjoy.”

“Thank you…”

Wonjin picked up a wing, savoring the sweet and salty flavor that cut through the greasiness.

Even though it was delicious, Wonjin couldn’t focus on eating, especially with Yeongdeok staring at him intently.

“Um, Yeongdeok?” Wonjin began cautiously.

“Is it to your taste?”

“Uh, yes… sweet and salty. It’s good.”

Once Wonjin answered, Yeongdeok’s gaze shifted to Seonwoo.

“And what about you?”

“It’s great. Cha Yeongdeok’s chicken never disappoints.”

“I see.”

Watching the familiar sight of Seonwoo and Wonjin enjoying the food, Yeongdeok fell into thought.

Since the conflict with PetitRolang, his loyal customers like Seonwoo and Wonjin had continued to visit, along with Jihoon, who had been by his side throughout it all.

Even though PetitRolang’s influence seemed to have alienated others, these few had stayed.

Did PetitRolang’s influence not reach their perception? If so, why?

Perhaps because he had kept a cordial relationship with ‘Cha Dowon,’ deviating from the original storyline?

Lacking any clear markers to guide him like the “PetitRolang system,” Yeongdeok could only speculate on his own.

With a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders and looked at the group gathered before him.

“There’s something I wanted to tell you all. With everyone here, it’s easier.”

“What is it?” Seonwoo asked, puzzled, while Jihoon and Wonjin looked at him, equally curious.

Without any further delay, Yeongdeok continued.

“I’m planning to close the restaurant at the end of this week.”

Wonjin was the first to react, his voice shaking in shock.

“Close the restaurant…?”

“Hyung, what are you saying?”

Jihoon was just as taken aback by this unexpected news.

“Exactly what I said. I’m planning to shut down.”

“Why? Is it because of the lack of customers?”

“Your chicken is delicious. If you keep at it, people will come back eventually.”

“They won’t.”

Yeongdeok knew the truth—that PetitRolang was to blame.

No matter how long he kept the restaurant open, nothing would change.

The restaurant had been a tool for his revenge against PetitRolang.

But since he was the one suffering instead, there was no reason to continue the business.

“Do you plan on reopening someday?” Wonjin asked cautiously.

Yeongdeok intended to answer with a definite “no,” but somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He felt a pang, as though something was holding him back.

Once, the restaurant had been a means of revenge, but at this moment, it no longer held that value.

He should have let go of it as soon as he realized this… but he hadn’t.

Instead, he’d decided to keep it open until the end of the week.

Why?

Out of respect for his loyal customers, perhaps?

At some point, Yeongdeok had stopped understanding himself entirely.

Why he made certain choices or had these thoughts was now unclear.

For now, he simply muttered, “Anyway, from now on, don’t bother coming back. It’ll be pointless.”

Realizing that the restaurant was closing for good left Seonwoo and Wonjin feeling strange.

At first, they had thought Cha Yeongdeok opening a chicken shop was absurd.

But now, the idea of him not running one felt even stranger.

Finishing what he had to say, Yeongdeok returned to the kitchen.

He was cleaning the mixing bowl he’d used for the soy sauce chicken when Jihoon came in, stepping close behind him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were planning to close the restaurant this week?”

Jihoon stood silently beside Yeongdeok and asked, though he tried to keep his voice calm.

Yet, he couldn’t stop a slight edge from creeping into his tone, making it sound almost accusatory.

“Didn’t I just tell everyone?”

“Even so, it would have been nice if you’d told me earlier.”

“Did this interfere with your schedule?”

“It’s not that…”

Jihoon wanted to understand what Yeongdeok thought of him.

He’d always been by Yeongdeok’s side, just like Baek Seonwoo had said, but he realized he knew little about Yeongdeok — even that he was closing his business was something he’d only just learned.

He’d thought they were close, but it seemed that was just his own illusion, and this realization weighed on him.

Meanwhile, Yeongdeok continued with a blank expression, putting on rubber gloves and squeezing dish soap onto a sponge as though nothing had happened.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, hyung.”

“And I don’t know what you’re thinking, either. No one in this world can read another’s mind.”

Except for that pretentious guy PetitRolang, who probably thought he was some kind of god, nobody else could read minds.

To Yeongdeok, Jihoon’s words seemed so obvious.

“Yeah, you’re right. But because I don’t know, I wish you’d share it with me… so I can help.”

Jihoon’s large hand gently stroked Yeongdeok’s cheek.

Surprised by the touch, Yeongdeok turned his head.

When their eyes met, Jihoon gave him a tender smile before leaving the kitchen.

Left alone, Yeongdeok touched his cheek despite the soap bubbles on his hands.

Like before… it felt as if the warmth of Jihoon’s touch was still lingering there.

ꔚ

“Thank you for the meal, Mr. Cha Yeongdeok.”

After finishing his meal, Seonwoo approached the counter with a credit card between his fingers.

When Yeongdeok completed his transaction, Wonjin, who had also risen from his seat, came to the counter as well.

“Mr. Yeongdeok, about…”

Wonjin hesitated as if he had something to say, and Yeongdeok nodded slightly, encouraging him to continue.

“Since you’re only staying open until this week… does that mean this Sunday is your last day?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And the closing time will be 2 a.m.?”

“Yes. Why are you asking so many questions?”

“Got it.”

Both Seonwoo and Wonjin had many things they wanted to ask Yeongdeok, but for now, they left the store.

It wasn’t as if they’d never see him again just because he was closing the business.

After taking a few steps down the sidewalk, the two, though not particularly close, started a conversation almost simultaneously.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?”

“Yes… it is.”

“For Cha Yeongdeok to say something so pessimistic… what could have happened?”

Seonwoo thought back to how Yeongdeok had bluntly asserted that continuing the business wouldn’t bring in customers.

It didn’t sound like the Yeongdeok he knew.

Cha Yeongdeok was usually so confident, even brazen, so Seonwoo had imagined that, even if the business failed, he’d say something like, “Fools! They don’t appreciate my chicken.”

Something must have happened to shake him so much, but it was hard to imagine what.

“If it’s Yeongdeok, he usually faces things head-on. I wonder what’s wrong.”

“Yes. He even mentioned quitting the business… it’s concerning.”

As Seonwoo spoke, Wonjin took out his phone.

Checking his calendar, he made a note for the early hours of Monday, marking the end of Yeongdeok’s last day in business.

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