Chapter 4: The Trap of the Contract

The Trap of the Contract

While Cheongshin went to order at the counter, Doyoo clenched his fist under the table.

The likelihood of Cheongshin being the culprit Seong Heeyu had spoken of had significantly increased.

Emerging flawlessly, even earlier than Doyoo, Cheongshin displayed an audacious confidence, leaving his seat as if daring Doyoo to harbor suspicions.

And, above all else.

Doyoo’s gaze shifted to the book Cheongshin had ostensibly been reading while waiting for him.

Judging by the bookmark’s position, it seemed he had only just begun reading it. The book’s title was familiar to Doyoo.

It was a question-based title:

Doyoo glared at the book, his eyes filled with tension.

‘Did Cheongshin know the contents of that book and deliberately place it before him?’

The book was a romance novel, one where the wizard protagonist ultimately betrays the ordinary female lead, leading to the world’s destruction by his magic.

If Cheongshin had known this and deliberately placed it out in advance, then this young man was truly meticulous.

‘No criminal would openly scatter such blatant clues,’ Doyoo mused, ‘making it impossible to rashly identify him as the culprit.’

“Senior.”

“Huh?!”

Startled by Cheongshin’s sudden voice, Doyoo instinctively replied, lifting his head.

It was at that very moment.

“Your hand! Relax your grip!”

The moment their eyes met, Cheongshin tightened his grip on the large paper cup of milk tea he had just brought back, causing some of the contents to spill.

Wiping the light brown liquid that streamed down Cheongshin’s hand with a tissue, Doyoo asked,

“Cheongshin, are you alright?”

Drip, drip, drip.

“…”

“…Ah.”

Doyoo blinked.

Simultaneously, a thought crossed his mind: ‘Was this guy testing him right now?’

‘What kind of twisted intention was this?’ Doyoo wondered. ‘To clench his hand so tightly, crumpling the large paper cup, immediately after being asked if he was alright?’

The precious contents splattered onto Cheongshin’s hand, then onto Doyoo’s hand as he wiped it, before dripping steadily onto the floor.

“Hey…?”

“Oh, my. I’m so sorry, Senior.”

Cheongshin, smiling brightly, leaned his upper body towards Doyoo.

Before Doyoo could even react, Cheongshin pulled out a handkerchief with his other, un-soaked hand and began to wipe Doyoo’s hand.

“I was momentarily distracted and couldn’t control my strength. Senior, are your hands alright?”

“I-I’m more worried about you than myself….”

Only a few drops of milk tea had splashed onto Doyoo, whereas Cheongshin’s entire hand was thoroughly drenched.

‘Who was worrying about whom?’

Even though Cheongshin was suspected of being a criminal, Doyoo was still someone who looked out for students younger than himself.

“Let’s go to the restroom first. Wash your hands with cold water.”

“Couldn’t Senior wash them for me? And other places too, while you’re at it?”

“What?”

“Just kidding. I’ll be right back, Senior.”

Cheongshin gave Doyoo a sweet smile and then headed to the restroom.

Doyoo stared blankly at the spot where Cheongshin had vanished, until the sight of an employee rushing towards him with a mop brought him back to his senses.

“I’ll do it.”

“No, customer! It’s alright, please remain seated!”

Despite the employee’s protests, Doyoo steadfastly wiped up the spilled milk tea from the floor.

He even got ice ready for Cheongshin, in case he had burned himself.

Cheongshin returned after Doyoo had already collected a second milk tea and resumed his seat.

[Lee Cheongshin. Age: 25. A prodigious talent who consistently ranks at the top of Icarus Academy every semester. He is a so-called genius, lauded for his exceptional magical manipulation and mastery of creative magic among all wizards.]

[Not only is his appearance striking, but his physical prowess and voice are equally exceptional, making Lee Cheongshin universally adored.]

[Consequently, Lee Cheongshin’s days are busy, filled with classmates eager to spend time with him.]

Before infiltrating this academy, Doyoo recalled the personal details of the academy students from the intelligence agency, information he had memorized over two sleepless nights.

The entry for Lee Cheongshin, in particular, seemed to have captivated even the informant who compiled it, containing an unusually large amount of subjective sentiment compared to other students.

[There are over five testimonies stating that an appointment with Lee Cheongshin must be made at least two months in advance.]

Suddenly recalling the last line, Doyoo began to suspect that the information might be incorrect.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, Senior.”

Cheongshin tilted his head, as if Doyoo’s concerns were incomprehensible to him.

Doyoo re-examined the contents of the contract Cheongshin had filled out.

Within the academy, a contract must be drawn up if one receives assistance from others for their graduation project.

For this reason, Doyoo had first offered Cheongshin a choice.

This choice pertained to the frequency or schedule of their meetings for the graduation project.

In response, Cheongshin had written:

[(Party A) Doyoo: Until Party A graduates, (Party B) Lee Cheongshin is obligated to assist Party A for at least 8 hours a day, 5 days a week.]

Party A, of course, was Doyoo.

To control his expression, Doyoo needlessly pulled his mask higher, over the bridge of his nose.

Meanwhile, his mind was once again furiously consumed with suspicion towards Cheongshin.

‘Could it truly be possible for the academy’s star—who required appointments to be made at least two months in advance—to dedicate the same amount of time to a ‘nerd’ as an average office worker?’ Doyoo wondered.

‘No.’

Doyoo could state unequivocally:

It was impossible.

‘Unless there was an ulterior motive.’

“It seems Senior isn’t keen on it.”

“Ah, no! It’s actually good, good….”

“Good?”

Repeating Doyoo’s last word, Cheongshin leaned his upper body closer.

Doyoo, who had been practically burying his nose in the contract, flinched back in surprise, creating distance between them.

Before even considering his suspicions of Cheongshin being a criminal, the overwhelming proximity of such a strikingly beautiful face was mentally taxing.

His reaction, therefore, was unavoidable.

“I’d like it, but I’m worried it might be too much for you. I would have been grateful for even two meetings a week, less than three hours each.

I honestly never imagined you’d write down such a long commitment, so I’m quite surprised.”

“Ah, so that was the problem.”

“Yeah. I haven’t signed yet, so how about we reduce it?”

“If possible, Senior, I’d like to make it seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day.”

“What did you say…?”

Doyoo was aghast.

If Cheongshin’s goal wasn’t to lure him into using forbidden magic—just like the other victims—and thereby cause massive casualties, then his words were merely the naive utterances of a delicate social novice.

They were the innocent remarks of someone utterly ignorant of the world.

Doyoo pondered for a moment.

‘Would it be better to seriously teach Cheongshin about labor laws and explain which companies to avoid to prevent unfair labor practices?’

‘But with this guy’s popularity and abilities, such places would naturally be filtered out, so did he really need to teach him now?’

As Doyoo wrestled with this internal conflict, Cheongshin spoke.

“I want to be with Senior for as long as possible, you see.”

Cheongshin enveloped Doyoo’s hand in his own.

Cheongshin’s green eyes, unblinking, gleamed as he gazed at Doyoo.

“I also want to be with you twenty-four hours a day, not just for the graduation project, but for other things too.”

He subtly tightened his grip, a sensation that heightened Doyoo’s physical awareness.

Doyoo swallowed hard.

A faint tremor ran through the hand Cheongshin held.

Sensing Doyoo’s tremor, Cheongshin’s lips curved upward.

It was an alluring smile, one that could bewitch anyone.

“I only hope Senior feels the same way about me.”

“Ah, no. Seven days a week isn’t possible. It violates labor laws. So, let’s just… let’s just keep it as is…!”

“Alright. Whatever Senior wishes.”

As if nothing had happened, Cheongshin released Doyoo’s hand.

In response, Doyoo signed the contract as if he were being chased.

After Doyoo signed his copy of the identical contract, Cheongshin, as if he had been waiting, collected his own.

Doyoo, who had been staring blankly at the gesture, suddenly realized that he had ended up keeping the original terms Cheongshin had filled in: five days a week, eight hours a day.

“What’s wrong, Senior?”

“…Nothing… It’s nothing.”

“Is that so?”

Cheongshin looked at Doyoo with eyes that dripped with a certain regret, then, seeing Doyoo offer no further words, immediately proceeded to the next step.

“By the way, Senior. The contract states that not only can I engrave your designs onto a tool, but I can also add my opinions to the existing blueprints you’ve already worked on.”

Doyoo had not expected him to bring this up after the contract had already been finalized.

“Yes. It’s exactly as stipulated. Do you have anything you want to say about it?”

Doyoo’s eyes gleamed behind his thick, horn-rimmed glasses.

He had just been swayed by Cheongshin, but he resolved not to let it happen again.

The blueprints Doyoo had drawn up, along with the related contract terms, were a trap of sorts.

If Cheongshin was indeed the criminal Kaidan was searching for, Doyoo knew he would undoubtedly try to twist his designs, seeking to modify them towards causing greater casualties.

Doyoo was banking on that very outcome.

“I only glanced at them, but there are a few regrettable aspects. If we just supplement those parts, I think we can further increase the level of completion… May I tell you about them?”

“Really? Which parts?”

As the awaited moment arrived, Doyoo pulled out the familiar blueprints from his bag.

Cheongshin smiled sweetly and asked,

“Senior, may I sit next to you for a moment?”

“Next to me?”

“Yes. To explain in detail, it’s best if we look at it from the same perspective.”

“Alright. …Come here.”