I am not a Yandere chapter 160

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The people who used to glare at him with scorn were gone, replaced by ones who now gazed at him with genuine concern.

A smile tugged at the corners of Yeongdeok’s lips.

“So, stop smiling like everything’s fine.”

At Wonjin’s chiding, Yeongdeok responded in a calm tone.

“Thanks, all of you, for worrying about me.”

When those words of gratitude left Yeongdeok’s mouth, Seonwoo and Wonjin’s faces contorted with emotion, as though they were overwhelmed.

Seonwoo eventually threw his arms around Yeongdeok.

“As long as you understand.”

“But it’d be nice if you could let go. I’m suffocating.”

Despite the atmosphere, which practically demanded he go along with it, Yeongdeok was as ruthless as ever.

Predictably, Seonwoo was pushed away without fail.

“So, what happened to PetitRolang?”

Yeongdeok asked to understand what had happened after he’d lost consciousness.

Did they get taken to the police?

If so, what about the people who had been manipulated by that writer’s power?

As he mulled over the questions, Seonwoo tilted his head, confused.

“PetitRolang? Who’s that?”

“…What?”

“A brand of snacks? It’s such a cute name.”

“The writer. You know, the famous web novel author…”

Yeongdeok began explaining but abruptly stopped, feeling a strong sense of unease.

There was no way Baek Seonwoo didn’t know who PetitRolang was.

They’d discussed that name many times, and the whole reason Yeongdeok was in the hospital now was because of PetitRolang.

If they’d been caught by the police, it would have been big news, wouldn’t it?

“You’re saying you don’t know PetitRolang?”

When Yeongdeok fixed him with a stern expression and demanded honesty, Wonjin, standing nearby, tapped on his phone and showed the screen to Yeongdeok.

“There’s someone named Roland Petit… a French dancer and choreographer?”

“That can’t be…”

Yeongdeok snatched Wonjin’s phone and double-checked.

No matter where he searched, there wasn’t a single mention of PetitRolang.

It was as if they had been erased from existence.

Yeongdeok recalled the strange scene he’d glimpsed just before passing out.

[System: Congratulations, ‘Cha Yeongdeok.’ You have successfully exited the novel No to obsession! ]

[System: This world is no longer a novel. ]

[System: Thank you for your efforts. ]

[System: -Reality Conversion in Progress 100%- ]

[System: -System Shutdown- ]

A flash of light had surrounded him, and his eyes had closed.

Could it be… because this world was no longer a novel, PetitRolang’s existence had been erased as well?

“How exactly did I end up in this hospital?”

“You should get your head checked again. Did you hit it too hard and lose some memories?”

Wonjin began patting around Yeongdeok’s head as if looking for injuries.

“After we split up, you got attacked by some random assailant and passed out. I happened to witness it and called the cops.”

“…Hah.”

So the incident was reduced to an attack by a random assailant.

But Wonjin had been there that day, too.

Yet, he seemed to have no recollection of the real events.

Why was it that only Yeongdeok’s memories hadn’t been altered?

“Anyway, it’s a relief you’re okay. Who knows what kind of people are roaming around in broad daylight?”

While Seonwoo and Wonjin made light conversation to lift the mood, Jihoon remained silent, sitting quietly beside Yeongdeok.

Noticing Jihoon’s uncharacteristic quietness, Yeongdeok glanced at him.

Did he, too, lose all his memories of PetitRolang?

“Well, since we’ve confirmed you’re okay, I’d better get going. I’ve got plans nearby,” Seonwoo said, reluctantly rising from where he’d been perched on the bed.

“Next time we meet, let’s both be in one piece.”

“Best wishes for a speedy recovery.”

As Seonwoo limped out with his crutches, Wonjin also got up to leave.

“Oh, and this.”

Before departing, Wonjin dug into his pocket and handed Yeongdeok his phone.

“It was with you when you collapsed. I figured I’d hang onto it to return it later.”

“…Thanks.”

Even though Wonjin’s memories were distorted, Yeongdeok, who knew the truth of what had happened, genuinely expressed his gratitude.

Lingering briefly, Wonjin hesitated before finally leaving the room at a snail’s pace.

With Seonwoo and Wonjin both gone, Yeongdeok turned his attention to Jihoon.

“So, what was it that you found strange?”

Yeongdeok prompted him to continue the conversation that had been interrupted for over thirty minutes by the others’ appearances.

He couldn’t let the topic slide—it had been bugging him.

“You just saw it yourself. PetitRolang has disappeared from this world. A writer with such influence, gone in an instant.”

“You… remember them?”

Yeongdeok was startled that Jihoon, unlike Seonwoo and Wonjin, retained his memories of PetitRolang.

“Yeah. It seems like we’re the only ones who remember.”

“…I see.”

“You know what’s going on, don’t you? At this point, I think I deserve to know.”

Jihoon’s unwavering gaze reflected his certainty that Yeongdeok held the answers.

Yeongdeok knew how utterly unbelievable his story was.

Who would believe that this world had been a novel and that he had once died and come back to life?

At best, they’d dismiss him as delusional—or worse, institutionalize him.

But whether it was camaraderie forged through shared danger or some other reason, he found himself wanting to confide in Jihoon.

Jihoon, of all people, felt like he would believe him, no matter how absurd the truth might seem.

“Will you believe me, no matter what I say?”

“If it’s coming from you, I’ll believe it.”

“…Alright.”

Satisfied with Jihoon’s response, Yeongdeok let out a small chuckle.

And then, the unbelievable truth poured from his lips like a story straight out of fiction.

How he had been hit by a truck and died, only to return.

How this world was actually a novel, and he’d resolved to take revenge on the writer who had killed him so senselessly.

How the writer had appeared in the novel, and how their power had ultimately been stripped away, transforming this world back into reality.

Jihoon listened without interruption, his fingers lightly brushing his lips as though weighing the tale’s implications.

At last, he nodded as if it all made sense.

“I see. So that’s why you’ve been acting like such a lunatic.”

“A lunatic? That’s harsh.”

“Anyone else would’ve said the same. I honestly thought you’d lost your mind at first.”

Jihoon chuckled at the memory, but the laughter soon faded, replaced by a somber expression.

“It must’ve been hard. Being alone.”

At the time, Yeongdeok hadn’t realized it himself, but now, hearing Jihoon’s words, he thought it really must have been.

Losing everything he had worked for in an instant, dying in such a meaningless way, and then finding out his world had only ever been a fabricated story. Surrounded by enemies, with no one he could trust.

For anyone else, it would’ve been enough to break them. If it had happened to the version of himself now, Yeongdeok wasn’t sure he’d have made it through.

Perhaps sympathizing with Yeongdeok’s pain, Jihoon’s expression darkened as though storm clouds had gathered in his eyes.

“Anyone would think it happened to you, the way you’re acting. Pathetic…”

Yeongdeok trailed off, shaking his head as he placed a hand on Jihoon’s head.

Instead of continuing with harsh words, he decided on something else.

“Thanks for worrying about me.”

As he gently tousled Jihoon’s hair, the younger man quietly accepted the touch.

It felt like taming a dog with a fiery temper, which brought an involuntary smile to Yeongdeok’s face.

Seeing him smile, Jihoon grumbled, “What’s so funny? I don’t find any of this amusing.”

“You’re acting like a stray puppy who’s lost its owner.”

“…Calling someone a stray dog? Really?”

“It means you’re cute.”

At over 190 cm tall, Jihoon had never been called “cute” in his life.

His face flushed red.

“You always confuse people with things like that…”

“I’ve never been confusing. This is my honest truth.”

“What?”

Jihoon’s eyes widened as if doubting his ears.

“Did you know, Seo Jihoon? No matter what, you’ve always been by my side.”

“……”

“When I realized it, I found traces of you in every part of my life. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get rid of them.”

Yeongdeok had tried countless ways to shake off Jihoon’s lingering presence, but it clung to him, haunting his thoughts and stirring his emotions.

“I think I was able to endure everything because of you.”

Realizing he was rambling, Yeongdeok cleared his throat.

He decided to skip unnecessary elaboration and get straight to the point.

“What I’m saying is… I missed you, Seo Jihoon.”

Extending his arms in a clear gesture, Jihoon hesitated only briefly before throwing himself into Yeongdeok’s embrace.

Yeongdeok, startled, awkwardly wrapped his arms around Jihoon and closed his eyes, returning the hug.

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