1440 - Chapter 61

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 61
“If we just block this attack, there shouldn’t be any more incidents. They’re starting to believe that Myeonghoo has genuinely lost his mind.”
“There’s nothing wrong with our teacher, right? I mean, he’s not targeting anyone around me or anything like that…?”
“We’re keeping an eye on that too, but there’s nothing to worry about. They’re actually the ones concerned about Myeonghoo.”
As she spoke, Yeonsu held out a small talisman pouch.
Myeonghoo’s expression had brightened at her words, but it darkened the moment he saw the pouch. He hesitated for a moment, then—as he’d done before—secured it inside his underwear.
“This is really something I shouldn’t have to do.”
He shuddered as something felt rubbed against him in a way he’d rather not think about, and Yeonsu, who’d turned her head away, laughed.
“Don’t be like that. You know how much trouble I’m going through to help you.”
“…I’m sorry.”
That was fair. Yeonsu was putting herself through all this trouble to save him.
She made the trip down from Gangwon Province to the Mental Hospital Sanitarium in Chungnam twice a week without fail, setting up protective measures and keeping him informed about what was happening outside.
Myeonghoo apologized awkwardly and found himself remembering the day he’d first met Yeonsu.
That day had been an oil painting class.
Normally he would have worked in his own atelier, but lately his mother had been on edge, so that wasn’t an option.
She kept nagging him—asking how much longer he planned to live like a man of leisure, telling him to go out and learn some trade like his brother—
and he’d talked back to her: “Brother’s already there—why would I fight him over the position? People will misunderstand, Mom.”
That earned him a smack on the back, and he’d been thrown out. So instead, he decided to go to the Academy where his Art Teacher usually came for private lessons at home.
The Art Teacher treated Myeonghoo like any other student despite knowing he was the youngest son of the Wens Group—without prejudice or flattery. He didn’t charge more than the other students just because he came to the house. Even the tuition was the same for everyone.
Myeonghoo liked him for that. He looked forward to those two hours a week. He’d almost started to think it was good that he’d been thrown out.
The Academy the teacher ran was inside an old Commercial Building in Bundang, Seoul, and the smell of oil paint that rose from those shabby concrete stairs always lifted his spirits.
Excited at the thought of finally being able to go to the Academy, he’d gotten out of the car—and suddenly a large man approached him.
“What do you want?”
His secretary and bodyguard immediately moved in to block him, but the man simply raised both hands, smiled innocently, and gave a small bow.
“I’m unarmed. I just need to say something to Myeonghoo Park.”
“Please state your name and identity, sir.”
At the secretary’s demand, the man shrugged. Even in a situation that might have unnerved him, Myeonghoo stared openly at the man’s unfazed face.
A handsome face, tall frame, an unusual hairstyle, and formal attire. Was he a model? No—if he were a model, he’d wear something more trendy and distinctive. An actor, then?
While Myeonghoo was studying the man, another figure appeared beside him—an older gentleman who looked like he’d walked straight out of an old cartoon detective show.
“Myeonghoo Park. You’re not having bad dreams lately, are you? I heard you recently picked up some Sleep Disorder Medicine from a psychiatrist.”
The secretary’s face went rigid immediately. But Myeonghoo didn’t take it seriously. He simply assumed the man was a reporter.
Even if people found out he hadn’t been sleeping well and had gotten some medicine to help, it would be in the news for a few days—nothing that would last.
It was naive for the son of a conglomerate, but it was a naïveté only possible because he was a conglomerate’s son. It stemmed from an ingrained self-confidence born of the experience that even minor brushes from others couldn’t become sustained harassment.
“Yeah, I’ve been having pretty rough dreams lately. You should get proper posture and sleep well too, sir, so you don’t have nightmares.”
Myeonghoo answered Sanghyung with a smile and went into the Academy building. Naturally, his bodyguard blocked the way, so Yeonsu and Sanghyung couldn’t follow.
Then Yeonsu held out a yellow talisman over the bodyguard’s shoulder. For some reason, Myeonghoo felt he needed to take it. So he stopped the bodyguard who was about to refuse and accepted the talisman from Yeonsu. He was even embarrassed at how fussy his secretary and bodyguards were being over just a piece of paper.
Yeonsu spoke as she watched Myeonghoo take the talisman.
“Just keep it with you for now.”
Then she retreated cleanly, her demeanor now entirely different from when she’d come to meet him. She added one more thing.
“And don’t fall asleep until 3 a.m. You could be dragged away.”
Though he hadn’t set out to take her warning to heart, Myeonghoo found himself unable to sleep until very late that night. Even with the medicine, his insomnia had grown so severe he couldn’t fall asleep, and the headache that came with it was splitting.
The Sleep Paralysis had been getting worse recently, and there had been stretches where he could hardly sleep at all—so naturally the headaches followed. The pain was so intense he’d thrown up everything he’d eaten that day.
At least his mother was away. If she’d been there, she’d have fussed over him endlessly—asking what was wrong, if he was okay, making a whole scene about it.
“God, I’m really dying here….”
The pain made him think even more of his Academy teacher. That stoic man, for all his bluntness, was kind—if he knew Myeonghoo was hurting, he’d definitely worry. If only it weren’t so late, he’d have called. Then the teacher might have awkwardly bought some medicine and come to the house to check on him.
Park Myeonghoo, who had no thought of calling the attendant on 24-hour standby and instead sat alone fantasizing and groaning, suddenly tensed. He’d distinctly heard a clattering sound from inside the supposedly empty house.
“…What was that?”
They didn’t have a dog, so there was no reason for a sound. Oh—could the live-in housekeeper have come over from the annex?
The common-sense thought that there was no reason for the housekeeper to enter the main house at 2:50 a.m. was deliberately suppressed. His mind wanted to escape from the fear the situation was generating. Still, all his attention fixed on the first floor, where he’d heard the clattering.
He listened carefully, but heard nothing. He must have imagined it. He exhaled with relief and grabbed his throbbing head again. Then he opened his phone, looked at his teacher’s number, and debated whether to call. That was when it happened.
Clatter, clatter. Creak— Clatter, clatter.
A succession of clattering sounds came from the first floor. They seemed to be moving inward from the entryway, room by room. And with each sound came the creak of a door being opened.
What? There’s no reason the staff would come here at this hour to clean rooms.
59
Myeonghoo pulled himself up from the uneasiness. Even the creak from the bed felt grating. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and tried to shake off the strange feeling. Then his eyes caught the talisman sitting on his desk.
“This is all because of that man earlier.”
What does it matter if I fall asleep at 3? Get dragged away?
That kind of talk was making him jumpy over nothing. Myeonghoo tried to get a grip on himself and tapped his own cheek a few times.
That was when he heard the creak-creak of footsteps climbing the stairs.
“…!”
Only then did Myeonghoo realize that the presence downstairs couldn’t be the housekeeper.
The housekeeping staff rarely ventured up to the second floor except during their scheduled cleaning hours. Myeonghoo had strict boundaries about his personal space and despised the thought of strangers entering it.
But at this hour—in the dead of night? No employee working in his home would ever do such a thing.
A burglar? A robber? Please, let it just be a burglar. Not a robber—I can’t die here!
Myeonghoo was so startled that he nearly forgot the throbbing headache that had been splitting his skull all night. A burglar in his own home? That bastard must have serious guts. Breaking into a mansion that looked this secure to anyone with eyes.
Click, click, creak—
He heard the sound of the first door on the second floor being opened.
Myeonghoo’s room was at the far end of the second floor. So counting in order, it would be the fifth door or so.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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