I am not a Yandere chapter 52

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After walking in silence for a while, they reached the bus stop, where Jihoon finally broke the quiet.

“Did you have fun today?”

“Whether I had fun or not, what’s it to you? You ask the most useless questions.”

“I don’t know… I guess I’m just nosy like that.”

Jihoon’s half-hearted answer surprised Yeongdeok.

“What’s with that long face of yours?”

“I didn’t have fun.”

“That’s unexpected.”

Yeongdeok had assumed Jihoon would’ve enjoyed the day, thinking the games and the company suited him perfectly.

Jihoon glanced down at him, replaying in his mind the conversation he’d had with Seonwoo just minutes before.

Seonwoo’s annoying face flashed in front of his eyes.

“Jihoon, since it’s just us, can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Are you interested in Yeongdeok?”

Jihoon nearly spit out the iced Americano he had been drinking.

His voice wavered as he tried to process the question.

Did he just ask… what?

“Do you have feelings for Yeongdeok?”

If trying to figure out what was going on in that guy’s head could be called interest, then yeah, maybe he did. But why did he have to answer that?

Just as he was lost in thought, Seonwoo added, “Don’t get too attached to him.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what he’s thinking, wandering around like that right now, but you know as well as I do, Jihoon, that if that guy wants to, he can go right back to being Cha Dowon whenever he likes, right?”

Normally, Jihoon would have snapped back with a “What the hell is wrong with you, man?” no matter what he said, but this time, he just stood there silently, for some reason.

Seonwoo continued his warning.

“And the Cha Yeongdeok I know doesn’t keep people close for no reason.”

Oh, except for Eungyeol, of course, Seonwoo quickly added.

“He definitely has some kind of motive. As far as I can tell, you’re just playing right into his hands, Jihoon.”

“And what makes you think you know Cha Yeongdeok so well…?”

Jihoon couldn’t hold back his temper anymore and snapped at Seonwoo.

But the tone that followed was no longer the playful one from moments earlier; Seonwoo had turned serious, forcing Jihoon to shut his mouth again.

“I don’t know how long you and Eungyeol have been childhood friends, but I’ve watched Cha Yeongdeok for quite a while too. Not that we were close or anything.”

“…”

“I’m saying this because I don’t want you to get hurt later. You know just as well as I do that Cha Yeongdeok doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He says hurtful things without a second thought.”

Jihoon thought back to Yeongdeok, whose sharp tongue lashed out mercilessly like he had just returned from hell.

Jihoon, being the fiery but simple guy he was, could brush it off, but for someone sensitive and timid, his words could cut deep.

“I’ll ask you again. Do you like Cha Yeongdeok?”

Seonwoo narrowed his eyes and smiled.

Jihoon replayed Seonwoo’s words in his head.

He was basically saying, don’t climb a tree you’ll never reach, only to get hurt later.

As Jihoon finished his reflection, a bus pulled up at the stop in front of them.

Yeongdeok, seeing that it was the same bus number as the one they took to get there, asked if they should board it.

But Jihoon, lost in his thoughts, didn’t hear him.

The bus took on its passengers and left, and as it disappeared from view, Yeongdeok gave Jihoon a puzzled look.

“What are you thinking about? You’re not the type to have much on your mind.”

As always, Yeongdeok’s words were laced with sarcasm.

Jihoon, still mulling over Seonwoo’s earlier question about whether he liked Yeongdeok, tried to come up with a fitting rebuttal.

Cha Yeongdeok is rude, selfish, says hurtful things without a care, lacks basic social skills, and…

As he peeled away Yeongdeok’s layers, one flaw after another, all his shortcomings became glaringly obvious.

‘Yeah, there’s no way I could possibly like Cha Yeongdeok. I’ve always hated him.’

In fact, Jihoon had already realized before hearing Seonwoo’s advice that, in Cha Yeongdeok’s brilliant life, he was nothing more than a passing extra—or, at best, Eungyeol’s childhood friend that happened to be around.

Jihoon buried deep within him both the rebuttal he had just come up with and the true answer he wanted to give Seonwoo.

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As a strong wind blew through the cool air, vibrant red autumn leaves fluttered down beneath the clear autumn sky.

Roran, currently writing under the pen name ‘PetitRolang’, was halfway up the mountain when he had to sit down, pounding on his chest.

“Hah… Hah…”

His breaths were coming out so fast and dry that it felt like his lungs might burst any moment.

Since debuting as a fantasy novelist, Roran had been cooped up indoors, writing all the time, and the mere act of climbing a steep incline felt torturous.

Climbing from the first floor to the second was exhausting enough—how much worse would a mountain be?

“Whew! A young person struggling more than an old man!”

“Hey, isn’t that the same young man we passed on our way up? He’s still only this far?”

The mountaineering club members, who had already reached the summit and were now descending, chuckled at the sight of the sluggish Roran.

“Here, have this. It’ll give you energy. You’re young—you can do it!”

A middle-aged man with a kind smile handed him a chocolate bar.

Roran wanted to curse at him for his obnoxious pep talk but lacked the energy thanks to his miserable physical condition.

“Yeah, once you see the summit, all the exhaustion will disappear.”

“You’ll feel motivated to live life to the fullest in your youth!”

The mountaineers tossed out thoughtless comments, stoking Roran’s irritation. Shut up, you old geezers.

The reason Roran had dragged his frail body up the mountain on this clear autumn morning was simple.

“I heard the shaman halfway up Yonggye Mountain is really famous.”

“That shaman cured my insomnia after I visited them.”

Roran had come all this way to meet the famous shaman on Yonggye Mountain.

Sure, the shaman might be amazing, but why on earth did they have to live on a mountain?

Every five minutes, Roran had to stop to catch his breath, asking around to finally make his way to the rock called ‘Dragon’s Tail’, where the shaman was said to meditate.

The rock got its name because its pointed end looked like a dragon’s tail, but Roran couldn’t care less about that.

Seeing a figure dressed in a red shaman’s robe sitting cross-legged atop the rock, Roran guessed this was the shaman he was looking for.

As he carefully approached, the shaman suddenly opened their bloodshot eyes, startling Roran so much that he cursed under his breath. What the hell?

“Begone, evil spirit!”

“Excuse me?”

Baffled, Roran asked again as he stepped closer.

But the shaman got up from the rock and shouted loudly.

“Evil spirit, begone!”

Wait, did the shaman just call me an evil spirit?

Roran was stunned but also curious to know what they meant. If he was truly possessed by some spirit causing his writing to go awry, he had to find a way to get rid of it.

“Hold on a second. What do you mean by ‘evil spirit’?”

But as Roran showed no signs of backing away, the shaman pulled out a pouch of salt and began throwing it at him.

“Begone! Begone, evil spirit!”

“Excuse me! You can’t just throw salt at people like that!”

Roran dodged the salt, stunned, but then paused, wondering why on earth he was putting up with this.

Why was he letting this happen?

“Hey, knock it off!”

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