Chapter 30: The Lunatic Who Turned Green-Eyed in 0.3 Seconds

The soaring mood crashed in an instant. The world that had been bright turned monochrome, and rage boiled up. Right now he wanted to grab the guy standing next to Lee Chae, listening so seriously, and do something—anything—to feel better.

They were so absorbed in conversation that even when Haejin got close enough to hear voices, Lee Chae still hadn’t noticed him.

Finally the talk ended; Lee Chae waved.

“Alright, see you, Yeo-jun hyung.”

Hyuung? Not sunbae, not sir—just hyung? I’m Cha Haejin and that guy gets Yeo-jun??

The anger that had been about to explode ballooned even bigger. He’d been trying so hard to hide his real personality in front of Lee Chae, but the moment he heard “hyung” for another man, he couldn’t hold it in.

Don’t do this. Don’t ruin perfectly cooked japchae by getting pissed.

Haejin clenched his eyes, held his breath, and shook to suppress the rage. Unable to vent, veins bulged like they’d burst.

“What?”

Lee Chae’s voice.

Haejin looked up. Same pretty face as moments ago, same grumpy tone and crooked posture. But after seeing him smile at someone else and call them hyung, that single word instantly made him feel wronged.

“Haa.”

He sighed.

Lee Chae stared, asking with his eyes why the sudden mood swing.

Haejin forced a smile.

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Lee Chae walked ahead; Haejin followed behind. The plan to confirm love with a kiss the moment he came out died without even being attempted.

So it was my delusion.

But he wasn’t giving up. Lee Chae had at least accepted the phone—there was still hope. And no one in the world could replace Jung Lee Chae.

The only guide who had ever caught his eye despite years of being mocked as impotent for refusing guides—he had to have him.

His stubbornness blazed higher.

“Lee Chae-ya.”

At the call, Lee Chae turned. Even the half-exhausted, half-annoyed face was pretty.

Haejin closed the distance and lightly pressed their bodies together.

For once, Lee Chae didn’t dodge.

No rejection, no iron wall—success, for now.

“Good work today.”

Lee Chae’s eyes widened (Did he eat something weird?).

“Studying and working every day must be tough.”

“It’s… fine.”

The crumpled, irritated face slowly relaxed.

Soft fuzz by his ears that didn’t suit his prickly personality looked fluffy.

So cute that Haejin smiled—Lee Chae’s lips lifted too.

Pretending to be normal and sneaking glances, the anger gradually subsided.

The problem: Call me hyung too kept circling his mouth.

Not yet. Slowly.

Enjoying the silence, they reached the bus stop.

Haejin casually waved his arm and tapped the back of Lee Chae’s hand.

Every time, he felt the arm muscles tense.

“What do you do when you get home—dinner, homework, sleep? How many hours do you usually get?”

“Sometimes five, sometimes six.”

“You must be tired.”

Lee Chae looked at him strangely.

“Why are you suddenly acting like you care? You’ve been following the same schedule as me this whole time.”

You, you, you, you, you!

The word echoed.

He tried to hold it in, but failed.

“You’re supposed to call me hyung, not ‘you.’”

“Suddenly? You should’ve said so from the start.”

Lee Chae pouted.

No turning back now—that pout was too cute.

Haejin looked away, took a deep breath, and tried again.

“I heard you earlier—‘Yeo-jun hyung’?”

Just saying the name made his tone sour.

“Yeah. Why?”

“No, f*ck… I’m Cha Haejin, so why is that guy Yeo-jun hyung?”

“I told you not to swear.”

“Then without the f*ck. Why did you call him hyung?”

“We met at work and use formal speech. Want me to speak formally to you too?”

Haejin imagined Lee Chae calling him “Haejin hyung” in polite language.

His chest swelled just thinking about it—especially remembering the one time Lee Chae had accidentally said “hyung” before.

“Yeah.”

“No way.”

The refusal was instant, but a smile spread across his face.

So even rejection didn’t feel bad.

“Why not?”

“Why do you suddenly want it?”

“Jealous?”

Lee Chae shut his mouth like he’d forgotten how to speak.

The lowered gaze and the hand rubbing his nape were obvious.

He almost blurted, Forget hyung—just unbutton one more button.

He barely regained sanity when Lee Chae, as if bestowing a favor, said:

“…I’ll call you that sometimes. Haejin hyung.”

Haejin felt his heart drop.

Lee Chae was already boarding the just-arrived bus.

He chased after and stood behind him.

The nape that had been pale was now bright red.

Maybe… it wasn’t just his delusion after all.

The next day, the moment class ended, Haejin dragged Lee Chae straight to a phone store.

“Gasp—it’s Esper Cha Haejin?!”

The manager approached with a huge smile.

Haejin ignored him and stared only at Lee Chae.

The gaze was too much; Lee Chae looked straight ahead and accidentally met the manager’s eyes.

The manager smiled awkwardly.

“And the person next to you is…?”

Before Haejin could spew nonsense—

“Just a friend.”

“Ah, I see. But you just changed phones not long ago—any issues?”

Haejin answered.

“Same model, one more. For this friend.”

As he said “this friend,” Lee Chae’s hand was forcibly raised.

Lee Chae yanked it back in horror.

Same model? Who decided that?

If it was what Cha Haejin used, it was definitely the latest expensive one—he didn’t want to increase the guy’s burden.

“Not the same. Give me the cheapest one with just basic functions.”

The manager instantly read the room.

Any fool could see Esper Cha Haejin had lost his mind over the guide beside him.

In years of sales, no customer was easier than an esper head-over-heels for a guide.

“Haha, sir, what are you saying? These days expensive and cheap phones are all the same. Just adjust the plan—picking a cheap device can actually cost more in the end.”

Haejin jumped in like he’d been waiting.

“Exactly! I’m paying the bill—what does price matter?”

Lee Chae looked back and forth between them and sneered inwardly.

You think I’m an idiot?

He might be poor and unable to afford luxury, but he’d assembled his own PC part-by-part to save money—he knew electronics inside out.

He ignored them and scanned the display.

“Go ahead and look around. Everything’s basically the same price anyway.”

Only the newest flagship models were on display.

He’d once come to a phone store just to look after missing an exam schedule change and failing a whole subject out of frustration.

That store had junk phones pieced together from random parts.

How did this place have so many latest models?

He glanced around again.

Brand-new building, luxurious interior—no way they carried anything cheap.

Then Haejin’s voice landed softly.

“Jung Lee Chae, you’ve earned money at such a young age and supported your family—you’re allowed to want something for yourself once.”

The casual words stabbed right into his chest.

“To recruit talent you have to invest. You said yourself you’re not even my exclusive yet. If it still feels burdensome, pay me back after you become a civil servant.”

Silence.

Lee Chae stared at the display case, unable to look at Haejin.

It wasn’t pride—it just felt… unfair for no reason.

“This one’s nice.”

Haejin reached in and pulled out an obviously expensive model.

When Lee Chae hesitated, Haejin called the manager.

“We’ll take this.”

The manager slapped pre-prepared documents on the table.

“Excellent choice! Great value—you picked well! Haha.”

Value my ass.

Lee Chae almost laughed at the manager’s desperate sales act.

Fine. Like Haejin said—he’d pay it back later.

“Please fill in your personal info here. ID for copying, I’ll return it.”

Lee Chae sighed, reaching for pen and ID—only to see Haejin already scribbling furiously.

Peeking over his shoulder, every piece of Lee Chae’s personal information was being neatly written down.

“What the…”

While Lee Chae was panicking, Haejin casually asked:

“Same number as mine, just change the last four digits. Lee Chae’s birthday is May 9, so 0509. You know mine’s 0423, right?”