Chapter 99: Yakuza Aftermath and Invisible Strings

My face must’ve gone pale; Doyoon caught it instantly and looked at me, worried.

“Hyung, what’s wrong?”

“No, just… if he really dies…”

Did you kill him?

“…what then?”

Doyoon gave me a pitying look. “You’re too nice, hyung.”

“Haha…”

I stood, heading to the coffee pot. Needed to hide my expression from him. Staring at the black liquid in the glass carafe, I thought:

Doyoon?

But why? They never had direct conflict. One was in Japan, the other came back from the States… What grudge? Am I overreacting?

Thankfully, Seunghee called, “One for me too.”

“Okay.”

I prepared two cups naturally, sat back, and said casually, “…Really yakuza? Feels… unrealistic.”

“What’s unrealistic? With his lifestyle, he’d have played with the mafia in Italy.”

Doyoon nodded. “I don’t know much, but he was in Japan until recently. Didn’t seem like a nice guy… probably caused trouble there.”

“Right. Always lived like tomorrow didn’t exist. Not maturing—brakes failed.”

Seunghee chimed in. So everyone who knew him likely thought like her. But the Han Won-ju I knew was different. He didn’t pick fights with stronger opponents.

“…Didn’t seem that stupid.”

I muttered; Doyoon frowned, clearly irritated.

“Hyung, he just reaped what he sowed. Why worry?”

No, I’m not worried about him.

I bit my lip nervously.

“Hanseong won’t… go after the yakuza, right?”

And if your involvement comes out?

I looked at Doyoon with shaky eyes. I desperately wanted him uninvolved. He smiled lightly.

“Dunno. The attackers already fled. Even if Interpol helps, those yakuza are cell-structured in Japan—hard to catch. Han Won-ju started the fight at the den, got unlucky facing yakuza, got beaten near-death. What can Hanseong even do?”

…No, I changed my mind. Even if Doyoon was involved, it’d be ruled unrelated.

Who was I even worried about?

If Doyoon did it, the case would close cleanly. He never leaves traces when he retaliates. His scariest trait: manipulating circumstances to legally ruin someone.

It showed when he destroyed Choi Seunghyun in the original. Despite endless humiliation from his half-brother, Doyoon waited, then dropped the bombshell at the critical moment, watching Seunghyun’s mental collapse while having Yoo Hyung-ju…

Wait—where is Yoo Hyung-ju now?

Seunghee suddenly asked, “How do you know they’re cell-structured?”

I turned to Doyoon too. He flinched at the question but answered smoothly, “I have a contact too—like noona.”

“Police?”

“Media.”

Seunghee frowned but didn’t press—probably didn’t want to reveal her own source. But his micro-expression and tone confirmed my hypothesis.

Got it.

Anyone else might miss it, but I know Doyoon’s lying face. I instinctively looked away. Whatever happened, Han Won-ju was definitely in the wrong. But…

Beating someone to death? Using yakuza?

I shuddered.

If things went wrong, that could’ve been me.

Bae Jian never knew what Doyoon did behind the scenes for her. All his illegal, shadowy acts were revealed only in side stories to readers. The heroine just needed saving—didn’t need to know how.

But as Choi Seunghyun, realizing I could’ve been—or become—Han Won-ju terrified me. Like being forced to see an angel’s dark side. My body stiffened.

“Anyway, as long as you’re clear, I’m out.”

Seunghee finished her coffee and stood. Doyoon and I followed to see her off. At the door, she scanned us sharply.

“You two… I knew you’d reconcile someday, but… already living together?”

Huh? Her odd phrasing snapped me out of my grim thoughts. I stared.

Doyoon laughed, “I want to, but hyung won’t let me. I need to try harder.”

Seunghee narrowed her eyes at him. “Seunghyun’s busy. Don’t cling whenever.”

I was shocked—why was she suddenly scolding Doyoon?

But his reaction was more shocking.

“…Doesn’t seem like something noona needs to worry about.”

Gasp.

Did Choi Doyoon just talk back to Choi Seunghee?

Even politely, that firm tone revealed clear displeasure. But Seunghee wasn’t fazed—she smirked, amused.

“Well, you don’t need to worry about what I worry about.”

What is happening…

I froze between these two powerhouses, eyes darting.

Doyoon smiled softly at me. “Hyung, I should head out instead of staying tonight—okay?”

“Uh… why?”

Awkward silence. My voice came out way too disappointed.

Not trying to stop him… After two weeks of him glued to me despite everything, him leaving over one comment from Seunghee was confusing. Seunghee crossed her arms, glaring disapprovingly; Doyoon looked pleased with my reaction. Why’s Seunghee mad?

“Got backlog. I’ll come back after. Don’t worry too much.”

“Didn’t worry.”

“Right, I worried.”

He flashed a flower-like smile, hugged me tight, then left first. Total 180 from his clingy behavior. I stood dazed; Seunghee, now alone with me, asked, “He’s not bullying you, right?”

“I’m how old…”

Why talk like I’m a ten-year-old who got beat up by the neighbor kid? Not worth answering.

Days returned to normal-ish. Doyoon still visited constantly, but not with the manic intensity of the past two weeks. Only then did I wonder: was he guarding me from Han Won-ju’s potential harm? His relaxed return aligning with Han Won-ju’s incident made it plausible.

Thankfully, news broke: Han Won-ju survived, recovering. But the scandal—chaebol heir high on drugs, fighting yakuza, beaten near-death—was too juicy. Internet exploded with “Mr. Han” stories daily.

His entire rap sheet resurfaced. Even the dirt I’d leaked to YouTube wrecker channels years ago for revenge got algorithm-boosted; the nation feasted on his crimes.

Hanseong’s image tanked. Not just gangsters—yakuza, drugs, other chaebol heirs and celebrities at the den, illegal prostitution, forced acts… crimes strung like dried fish.

Comments: “Execute as an example,” “Confiscate their wealth,” “Audit every conglomerate.” If Han Won-ju woke to this, he’d cry injustice. He just lived as always—yet lost his life and the company’s sales/image in one blow.

I felt… complicated.

Amid the chaos, neither Doyoon nor Haewon’s names appeared. Police contacted me briefly for peripheral checks—nothing more. Obvious, yet that obviousness terrified me.

Cross the male lead, end up like that.

“Hyung?”

Walking side by side, Doyoon suddenly pulled my waist with one arm. I didn’t dare shake it off, answering stiffly like a wooden puppet.

“Yeah, yeah?”