I am not a Yandere chapter 108

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Thinking Jihoon was just spouting nonsense, Yeongdeok took a bite of his skewer.

The spicy flavor hit him so hard it stung his tongue.

“Well? Crazy spicy, right? They said it’s drenched in capsaicin,” Jihoon laughed.

It was indeed spicy but still tolerable.

Unfazed, Yeongdeok chewed slowly and washed it down with his drink.

“Why anyone would put this level of spiciness in food meant for people, I’ll never understand. Waste of ingredients.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Jihoon sighed, watching as Yeongdeok, unphased, finished his skewer without a single change in expression.

Suddenly, Yeongdeok turned to stare at him, making Jihoon flinch.

‘Did I stare too much?’ he wondered, but then he realized Yeongdeok’s gaze was directed slightly higher, toward the bear headband on his head.

“Is this bothering you?”

“Why would you wear something so ridiculous?”

“My friends forced it on me, but it feels festive. What, don’t like it?”

“It makes you look like your already questionable intelligence dropped about twenty percent,” Yeongdeok retorted, dryly.

Jihoon bit back a retort and tried to calm the irritation boiling up inside.

As he struggled to maintain his composure, he was caught off guard when Yeongdeok reached up and lightly touched the headband, his fingers barely grazing Jihoon’s hair.

Startled, Jihoon stepped back, his heart racing.

“You’re reacting like I touched your ears or something.”

“Well, you just reached out all of a sudden…!”

“I only did it because it suits you.”

Yeongdeok thought Jihoon shared more than a passing resemblance to a bear—fiery and impulsive.

“What’s that supposed to mean? That I look cute?”

“Like I said before, it makes you look about twenty percent less intelligent.”

“Shut up,” Jihoon sighed, regretting he’d even asked.

Meanwhile, Yeongdeok polished off his skewer, leaving Jihoon to toss the trash.

“Since we’re done, want to go somewhere else? Anything you want to try?”

“Not really.”

“Then let’s just look around. We can decide on something if it catches your eye.” Yeongdeok nodded in agreement.

They walked through the bustling food stalls, then Jihoon guided Yeongdeok around the sprawling campus, pointing out the buildings.

“This is the Humanities Hall, the biggest one on campus. My major is digital content, so I only come here for electives…”

While Jihoon animatedly described the campus, a group of students spotted him.

“Seo Jihoon! Skipping out on the department booth to slack off here?”

Jihoon waved them off. “Can’t you see I’m giving a tour? Get lost.”

After brushing past them, Jihoon continued, pointing to the far-off buildings.

“Those are the department lounges and club rooms. Drinking’s banned there, but I had my fair share of drinks with the seniors back in my early twenties.”

“Pitiful…”

“When else can you do it, if not at that age? One time, we almost got caught…”

“Jihoon hyung! Hi!”

Another young man, wide-eyed and friendly, approached from the opposite direction.

“Oh, hey! Yeah, this is a friend of mine, so we can’t chat too long. Let’s catch up after the festival,” Jihoon replied.

“Sure, enjoy the festival, hyung!” The young man waved and walked away, leaving Jihoon momentarily lost in thought.

“What was I saying again?”

“Something about that pitiful time you drank in the lounge.”

“Oh, right…”

“Jihoon sunbae!”

Before Jihoon could continue, a petite girl approached him with a cheerful greeting.

Yeongdeok watched quietly, a bit resentful.

Making friends was hard enough for him, yet here was Seo Jihoon, with people recognizing him everywhere he went.

‘What does he even do to have everyone he meets treat him like that?’

Even after Jihoon’s junior left, Yeongdeok kept gazing at him with a quizzical look.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You’re popular. What’s your secret?”

“Back in my first two years, I was even more energetic than I am now, and I’d go to every social gathering I could find,” Jihoon said, recalling his wild early twenties, hopping from one drinking party to another.

It had been fun, no doubt.

Despite Jihoon’s account, Yeongdeok found it hard to believe.

While he also used to attend every gathering he could, he could never handle it quite like Jihoon.

Surely, Jihoon must have done something sneaky to win people over.

Yeongdeok looked at him suspiciously, and Jihoon, noticing his gaze, scoffed.

“You have no right to be saying that to me. Do you know how many annoying people asked for my number while I was working part-time at the bar?”

“A hundred?”

Yeongdeok immediately guessed without catching the implication.

Jihoon pressed his fingers against his temple, feeling a sudden headache.

“Where does that insane confidence come from? Not a hundred.”

“Fifty?”

“I’m not asking you to guess. And it wasn’t fifty either.”

“Then it wasn’t that many, was it? Stop acting like you’re special,” Yeongdeok mocked, unimpressed. Jihoon felt an overwhelming urge to flick Yeongdeok’s proud head.

As they bickered and walked, a woman they just passed grabbed Jihoon’s arm.

“Seo Jihoon! Where do you think you’re going?”

It was yet another of Jihoon’s acquaintances.

Yeongdeok silently tallied the number of people who’d approached Jihoon so far.

“Oh? Myeon noona. It’s been a while.”

The woman, Myeon, had untamed curly hair and large silver-rimmed glasses.

“Get your fortune read. For you, I’ll only charge 3,000 won.”

Jihoon eyed the giant crystal ball in front of her booth with skepticism.

Not even tarot cards—just this cheap-looking crystal ball?

He hadn’t felt this reluctant to part with 3,000 won since he’d paid for an awful plate of tteokbokki or accidentally bought a second subway ticket after drinking too much.

The bigger surprise was the sign listing the original price as 5,000 won.

Jihoon understood why her booth was empty.

“Even 3,000 won feels a bit greedy,” he muttered.

“You brat? Fine, 2,000 won, and I’ll throw in a reading for your friend, too.”

Myeon smiled a saleswoman’s smile at Yeongdeok.

“I’ll pass.”

“Oh, don’t be so shy.”

Myeon coaxed Yeongdeok into the seat, leaving Jihoon no choice but to sit beside him.

“Alright, what kind of fortune would you like me to read?” she asked.

“Anything. You’ll just make up something impressive anyway,” Jihoon replied.

“Yes, yes, Seo Jihoon, please hush. I’ll read your compatibility instead, since there are two of you.”

“I didn’t mean that literally… Besides, isn’t compatibility only for couples?” Jihoon shot a glance at Yeongdeok, who didn’t seem to care.

“Both of you, place your hands on the crystal ball.”

Apparently, it wasn’t even about looking through the ball. Jihoon started to doubt whatever method she’d use.

“This isn’t some fantasy novel….”

“Shh. Concentrating,” she said, closing her eyes.

Jihoon thought this was absurd—just closing your eyes to tell fortunes?

Better off bringing a pack of flower cards.

She suddenly opened her eyes, clasped her hands together, and announced, “Your compatibility? Absolute zero. Oil and water. Carrots and cucumbers. Fated never to get along.”

Not that he took it seriously, but the outcome made Jihoon feel even more cheated for handing over 2,000 won.

“On a scale, it’s 0 percent—total fail! Fate says you’re mortal enemies.”

“Seriously? Are you sure you actually read that?”

“Believe it or not, your choice. Now, 2,000 won.”

“This is a scam.”

While Jihoon dismissed it as nonsense, Yeongdeok found her insight oddly accurate.

Mortal enemies—yeah, that wasn’t too far off.

After reluctantly paying the 2,000 won, Jihoon pulled Yeongdeok’s arm, urging, “Hey, let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time and money.”

“Wait a moment. Hey, you!”

As they tried to leave, Myeon scurried after them, handing Yeongdeok a card decorated with a cute witch.

“A charm for good luck. Free for clients.”

“Right… I don’t need it.”