Chapter 11: Ninety Eight Percent And Already A Problem

Lee Eun-ru showed no intention of letting go of the hand he held.

Jin-yeop, who had been passively leaving his hand in the warm, comfortable grip, met Eun-ru’s smiling eyes and rather brusquely pulled his hand away.

“I wasn’t in need of guiding.

I didn’t intentionally seek a handshake, so I hope you don’t misunderstand.”

“Ah…

It was my mistake.”

“No, please sit.”

As an Esper, he should have been more cautious about contact with a Guide.

Swallowing his bitterness, Jin-yeop gestured to the opposite chair with a blank expression.

Eun-ru smiled awkwardly and sat down.

The match rate—just how high was it to make him feel this way from a mere handshake?

The hand he’d hidden under the table was burning with a strange intensity.

Without even realizing his date was right in front of him, Jin-yeop began thoroughly scanning the document he’d been looking at moments ago.

And at the number he discovered, he unconsciously gasped.

‘98%.’

He looked up at Eun-ru, who was simply sitting there smiling, looking back at him.

His match rate with Kang Jung-hoon had been around 70%.

And even that was considered quite high for a match rate.

‘Is he crazy?’

It was a number that justified summoning him immediately and pushing for a match.

Wasn’t this practically the ‘fate‘ Gaee was always singing about?

Why hadn’t those two mentioned the match rate from the start?

Just as his confusion deepened, Eun-ru, who had been quietly sitting, spoke first.

“It’s a surprising number, isn’t it?

I was surprised too.

I also thought it was fortunate.”

“…Fortunate?”

At the unexpected word, Jin-yeop snapped back to attention.

“Yes.”

“…..”

“I’ve been interested for a while.

In you, Cha Jin-yeop-ssi.”

Interested?

Since when?

No, he must have awakened recently, so they couldn’t have even encountered each other in a dungeon.

Where could interest possibly come from?

Even if he had developed interest, it would have to be from this morning’s shitty press conference by Kang Jung-hoon.

Saying his dopamine spiked from their mudslinging match and he came running on all fours would be far more convincing.

Jin-yeop let out a deep sigh, closed the document, pushed it aside, and met Eun-ru’s gaze.

A blind date whose purpose and intentions were unknown.

No, more problematic than that was that face, which could melt away all these suspicions in an instant.

‘Get a grip.

Falling for a face and ruining your life is something you’ve done once or twice already.’

Cha Jin-yeop, you’ve messed up your life enough.

Even soup gets ruined if you mess with it that much.

Jin-yeop muttered to himself and sharply focused his mind.

During the long silence, a staff member approached and placed two cups of coffee on the table.

He hadn’t ordered anything, so Eun-ru must have requested coffee when he came in.

“Is coffee alright?”

Eun-ru asked cautiously, and Jin-yeop roughly nodded.

What did it matter what he drank?

They’d only see each other today anyway.

Still, the faintly rising coffee aroma seemed to slightly relax his tightly wound body.

“…Have we met somewhere before?”

Ha, he really didn’t want to ask this question.

Didn’t it seem like the pathetic tactic of an older person just throwing out a line to someone young and handsome?

But Jin-yeop had no choice but to ask.

“Well, I wonder.”

Eun-ru left only an evasive answer and somehow kept persistently staring at Jin-yeop’s face.

‘What the hell is up with this guy?’

Countless question marks were floating above Jin-yeop’s head.

“You said you’ve been interested in me for a while.

Doesn’t that mean you’ve seen me somewhere before?”

“I’ve certainly seen you before.

Is there anyone in Korea who doesn’t know Cha Jin-yeop-ssi?”

At that answer, Jin-yeop narrowed his brow.

Of course, no one didn’t know him—probably even more so now.

So, what he wanted was an answer: whether his interest came from today’s issue, or if they’d had contact before.

Why deliberately beat around the bush?

Jin-yeop finally spat out irritably.

“I’m asking if you came because you’re curious about my gossip.”

“…..”

“If that’s your purpose, I don’t think there’s any point in continuing.”

Even if it wasn’t, he planned to wrap things up quickly anyway.

Jin-yeop barely swallowed the words he wanted to add and stared at him.

Eun-ru, who had been constantly smiling, visibly flustered and waved his hands.

“No, not at all.

That’s not it.

I’ve been a fan of Cha Jin-yeop-ssi for a long time.

Well… you used to appear on broadcasts often before you, um, got married.”

Seeing him hesitantly utter the word ‘marriage‘ as if gauging his reaction, Jin-yeop felt his momentarily surging emotions subside a little.

Seeing him on TV made sense.

Starting about three years ago, broadcasting companies aggressively pushed to live broadcast dungeon raids.

Those broadcast bastards, who’d do anything for money, eventually started making filming drones from dungeon by-products, actively hiring Awakeners, and buying exclusive broadcast rights.

This was also a nice side income for Awakeners, so unless a dungeon was deemed too dangerous, they’d often sell broadcast rights.

Most sellers were somewhat mid-level B-class Awakeners, using it as an opportunity to raise their profile.

This was especially true for those who had awakened from an entertainment background.

There were even agencies like Hao specifically formed just for broadcasting purposes.

For an A-class Esper like Jin-yeop, the broadcast rights for his raids were literally worth whatever you asked for.

In dungeons typically raided by A-classes, drones made from dungeon by-products often couldn’t function properly.

Unless they deliberately raided lower-grade dungeons, there were few dungeons that could be broadcast in the first place, and quite a few A-class Awakeners didn’t sell live broadcast rights.

But there were rare dungeons that allowed broadcasting, and after Jin-yeop started dating Jung-hoon, he began selling these rights more actively than before.

Because Jung-hoon wanted him to.

It was a relationship premised on marriage from the start, so there was no reason not to grant that request.

That was also when Jung-hoon started becoming seriously famous.

Thinking back now, it was quite intentional.

Back then, completely unaware, he was just caught up in the satisfaction of his and Jung-hoon’s relationship being publicized to the world, incapable of clear judgment.

“I don’t know if it’s true or not, but since you say you’ve been my fan for a while, I’ll be honest with you.”

“…..”

“Lee Eun-ru-ssi, you’re not my type.”

“Excuse me?”

Eun-ru’s eyes widened at Jin-yeop’s words.

A hint of disappointment settled on his face, making him look so pitiful that a pang of sympathy unexpectedly welled up.

‘Ah, that face is really a weapon.’

Saying things he didn’t mean made guilt prick at his heart like needles.

Honestly, with a face like that, what was there to say about ‘types’?

It was a face that could easily shatter any preference.

But Jin-yeop steadied himself.

If it was true that he had nurtured feelings while watching him, that was… an age he didn’t even want to think about.

“It seems you’re a newly awakened person with many questions, and you approved the match upon seeing my name.

But I’m not here for blind dates with that kind of purpose.”

“No, I didn’t come here lightly either…”

“Of course not.

How could you sign a special contract with a light heart?”

“…..”

“But isn’t it worth a try?

You’re still young, so you can afford the penalty.”

Lee Eun-ru was only twenty years old.

It was an age where choosing something out of curiosity and passion wouldn’t be strange at all.

No, rather, that would be behavior befitting his age, so Jin-yeop had no intention of resenting or blaming him for it.

It was just that he didn’t have the capacity to leisurely offer advice or career counseling.

There was a reason Cha Jin-yeop was attending a blind date, even prepared for all sorts of gossip.

He knew painfully well that marriage wasn’t a game.

So much so that he’d thought about living without meeting anyone at all.

He knew having a partner was beneficial, but if asked whether his life with a partner was happy, the answer was no.

It would be better to just drift in and out of the Center, living in a state of constant discomfort and fatigue.

He didn’t want a daily life wavering from emotional discomfort and anxiety.

He wouldn’t want that even if paid a fortune.

But right now, Jin-yeop needed someone.

Not necessarily marriage, but a partner relationship where interests aligned and they could use each other.

For that, Gaee was perfect.

Matching based purely on conditions.

Love wasn’t necessary in that.

It was better to marry for mutual benefit and connection than to cling to illusions like love.

“Whatever you want to ask, I don’t think I have anything to answer.

What I want from a partner is just conditions, and by that measure, Lee Eun-ru-ssi falls short.”

“Because I’m young?”

Eun-ru, who had been looking at Jin-yeop with wavering eyes, asked with an expression so calm it was almost unsettling.

Even at that, Jin-yeop, without a flicker, picked up his cup and drank his coffee.

“Is it because I’m young?”

At Eun-ru’s repeated question, Jin-yeop put down his coffee cup and crossed his arms.

“Are you hoping I’ll say no?”

His posture and tone were so twisted that someone might ask if he needed to be that aggressive.

But right now, Jin-yeop couldn’t discern Eun-ru’s purpose, and therefore couldn’t tell if he was pure or malicious.

Whether malicious or pure, he needed to cut this off cleanly here.

“There was a mistake in the matching.

Although I said the other party’s age didn’t matter, that was only for someone similar to me or older, not someone this young.”

“Age isn’t important.”