I am not a Yandere chapter 136

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Unaware that Seonwoo’s question was a hint, Yeongdeok only scoffed at the thought of romance.

He clenched his fist, knowing his only focus was revenge.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the sky was beginning to glow red. Seonwoo turned to him.

“I have something else planned, so I should get going. This was fun.”

“It was.”

“Take care, Yeongdeok. Oh, and one more thing.”

Seonwoo suddenly flicked his forehead.

Surprised and irritated, Yeongdeok rubbed his brow, ready to snap, but held back and calmly asked the reason.

“What was that?”

“You really don’t suit this act, you know? Just be yourself.”

“….”

“See you.”

Seonwoo waved his hand dismissively and turned his back.

Yeongdeok stood frozen, watching until Seonwoo’s figure completely disappeared from sight.

Everyone Yeongdeok met told him to live like “Cha Yeongdeok.”

What did it mean to live like Cha Yeongdeok?

To live like Cha Dowon?

Why?

Because, no matter how much he tried to act like any other person, he could never escape the role of the obsessive protagonist?

A strange unease crept through him, something he couldn’t quite articulate.

How could he even think of changing someone else’s story when he couldn’t change himself?

The thought struck Yeongdeok as absurd, and he felt a wave of powerlessness close in on him, clinging to him like vines.

On his way home, dragging his feet after parting with Seonwoo, Yeongdeok felt his phone vibrate.

A message had come through from Eungyeol.

[Eungyeol: Hello, Yeongdeok!]

[Eungyeol: Just a small question about the reward… When would you be available?]

Yeongdeok didn’t feel the motivation to meet up with Eungyeol.

He was supposed to ruin the original story, so that he could… get revenge on PetitRolang.

Revenge.

The word snapped him back to his senses.

He’d lived solely for this purpose. If not revenge, what else was there?

[Whenever~]

[Eungyeol: Whenever?]

[Eungyeol: So, does that mean anytime is fine?]

[Eungyeol: Then, would it be alright if I contact you when I’m free?]

[Sure ^ㅡ^]

[Eungyeol: ?]

[Eungyeol: Got it! I’ll get in touch again then!]

Yeongdeok chuckled to himself, replying in a way that didn’t suit the “obsessive protagonist” role, complete with special characters and emoticons.

“Heh… hahaha…”

The sound was ambiguous, somewhere between a laugh and a cry, drawing uneasy glances from passersby who looked at him as though he were mad.

In response, he shot them a blindingly bright smile.

Surely no obsessive character would act like this, right?

No, not if he were Cha Dowon.

Cha Dowon would never…

Once home, Yeongdeok didn’t go straight to his own door.

Instead, he paused outside Jihoon’s place.

Even he couldn’t explain why.

His steps had simply led him there.

Standing in front of Jihoon’s door for a while, he reached for the doorbell, then stopped, letting his hand fall back down.

The more he thought about it, the clearer it became: trying to change the characters’ narratives was an utterly self-centered fantasy.

Wonjin was right.

He hadn’t considered their feelings at all.

If he deviated from the original story, he wouldn’t be respecting Jihoon’s feelings for Eungyeol, either.

Jihoon had developed genuine feelings for him.

How could he expect Jihoon to change that?

What, was he planning to threaten him into not liking him?

As he stood there, wasting time, Jihoon, who had just returned from school, climbed the stairs and stopped, surprised.

“Cha Yeongdeok?”

Yeongdeok turned at the sound of his voice, and Jihoon blinked, frowning slightly in confusion.

“What are you doing here? Did you need something from me?”

“No.”

“Then why were you loitering outside my place?”

“Just because.”

Yeongdeok gave Jihoon a smile. Jihoon had recently noticed that Yeongdeok was acting strangely.

Normally, Yeongdeok hated wasting time.

Yet, here he was, just standing around with no purpose?

Troubled by the change, Jihoon unlocked his door and motioned him inside.

“Come in. It’s hot out.”

As if drawn by his gesture, Yeongdeok stepped into Jihoon’s apartment.

When Jihoon turned on the air conditioner, the oppressive atmosphere that seemed to weigh on Yeongdeok’s whole body gradually lifted in the cool air.

“Cha Yeongdeok, have a seat,” Jihoon said, pointing to the dining table.

In the past, Yeongdeok would have retorted, ‘Don’t order me around,’ or ‘Who are you to tell me what to do?’

But this time, he followed Jihoon’s directions without a word.

Jihoon found it hard to adapt to this change.

“Is something wrong? If you need to talk, I’m here to listen.”

Though Jihoon’s brow was furrowed, his tone was gentle, almost soothing.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Come on. Nothing’s wrong, and yet you’re acting like this? Not even a kid would buy that.”

Jihoon grumbled, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Yeongdeok showed no sign of explaining.

His silence was tinged with a strange melancholy, making it hard for Jihoon to push further.

“It’s dinner time. Should we order chicken?”

“Suit yourself.”

Even at the mention of chicken, Yeongdeok’s response was lukewarm.

Jihoon figured that maybe his mood would improve with food, so he pulled out his delivery app.

“Fried chicken, right? You like simple things.”

Yeongdeok nodded, and Jihoon placed an order for two fried chickens and put down his phone.

Silence settled over the apartment.

The atmosphere felt more odd than awkward, so Jihoon spoke up again to break the stillness.

“Want to play a game while we wait?”

Yeongdeok nodded in agreement, so Jihoon retrieved the console game that Yeongdeok hadn’t taken back home.

“What do you want to play?”

“Whatever you like.”

Remembering how playing the game had once lifted Yeongdeok’s spirits, Jihoon started up ‘Mario Party’, hoping it might work again.

But this time, Yeongdeok played half-heartedly.

His eyes, usually sharp with focus and competitiveness, seemed distant, uninterested.

Jihoon, who normally would’ve lost several rounds by now, won easily, but the victory felt hollow.

Before long, the chicken arrived.

Jihoon brought it to the table, setting out plates and cups for cola.

“Eat up. You look like a sick chicken right now.”

“Thanks. I’ll dig in.”

Yeongdeok grabbed a drumstick and began eating voraciously, with an intensity that was unlike him.

Normally, he ate with such elegance, but now there was something almost ravenous about him.

His expression was blank as he looked at the chicken, but his actions were aggressive, so much so that Jihoon wondered if he was imagining things.

“Hyung.”

“Yeah?”

“…Never mind. Just eat slowly, or you’ll choke.”

But Yeongdeok kept eating quickly, and Jihoon, worried he might actually choke, refilled his glass with cola.

The two of them polished off the chicken in no time.

The greasy meal left Yeongdeok feeling queasy, a side effect of eating so uncharacteristically.

Sweat broke out on his back as his stomach churned.

Sitting on the sofa, trying to settle his uneasy stomach, Yeongdeok kept tapping his foot.

Noticing his pale complexion, Jihoon came over and sat next to him.

“You’re not feeling well, are you? No wonder, with how fast you ate.”

Yeongdeok wondered if Jihoon was some kind of mind-reader. How did he know without a word?

“Give me your hand.”

Jihoon extended his hand, and Yeongdeok placed his own on top of it.

Jihoon began massaging the pressure point between his thumb and forefinger while gently rubbing his back.

“They say this helps with nausea,” he murmured.

“……”

“Seriously, why are you doing things that don’t suit you?”

Jihoon let out a soft curse, grumbling. His words sounded rough, but his hand was gentle as it moved along Yeongdeok’s back.

“Do you just want to throw up? I’ll pat your back.”

Jihoon had always been like this—always doing things for Yeongdeok without weighing the pros and cons.

But now, that very quality in Jihoon was starting to annoy him.

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