Transmigrated as the Side Top used as an Emotional Trash Can - Chapter 11.2
“-That’s why you need to ask the police for protection. Coming after you and demanding money is illegal debt collection, and there are ways to receive free legal advice too.”
I brought Lee Seojun home, piled a mountain of soy sauce egg rice in front of him, and lectured him about a justice system that never functioned properly in works of fiction featuring poor, unfortunate protagonists.
“What, so you’re telling me to report them?”
I nodded at Lee Seojun’s question. If it were something a police report could have solved long ago, he probably wouldn’t have been chased when we first met or ended up with nowhere to go now. But there was always a chance, right? If he was lucky, maybe he could at least report them for stalking and obtain a restraining order.
I ran my positive-thinking circuit and prayed to the god of narrative plausibility.
“Shouldn’t you be the one going to the police station? Your head’s split open, so who are you to lecture me?”
“I told you, mine’s a family matter.”
“Then mine’s a family matter too.”
I wanted to argue that no one had family circumstances involving being chased by gangsters. But my own family circumstances involved having my head split open with a flowerpot by my twin brother, then being locked unconscious in a locker room for half a day, so I lost the will to argue.
“Good grief….”
I let out a groan mixed with a sigh, propped up my chin, and blankly watched him shovel down the mountain of rice. Then I abruptly grabbed the wrist of the arm that wasn’t holding the spoon.
“You look even thinner.”
Was someone beating him? Poor, sick children often became targets of violence. I checked not only his arms but turned his body this way and that to make sure there were no injuries.
“It’s because I’m still growing.”
Lee Seojun replied as though it were nothing and continued eating. I straightened the sleeves he had messily shoved up and folded them neatly to his elbows without leaving wrinkles. When I kneaded his forearm and shoulder despite his disgusted expression, I felt the bony body beneath his thin shirt.
“You’re still too thin….”
Out of pity, I ended up saying a softened version of the common line from BL novels, ‘A grown man’s waist shouldn’t fit in one hand.’ No, but his waist seriously did fit in one hand, so what was I supposed to say? It looked less like he was wearing clothes and more like someone had draped them over a stick, fluttering loosely around him.
A person couldn’t call themselves Korean if they didn’t worry whether someone was eating properly. Seriously.
“Do you not like it?”
At some point, he had stopped moving his spoon and asked as though requesting my assessment of his body.
“Hmm, your face is pretty, so it’s fine.”
“You like my face?”
I raised my head and carefully examined Lee Seojun’s face as he questioned me. While Kim Jihwan had downturned eyes and a gentle impression, Lee Seojun looked difficult and sensitive, which felt new.
“Yeah, you’re attractive enough to be purchased for one hundred and fifty million won, entirely in cash.”
He was far too pretty to be treated as a mere extra. Seeing pretty things made me happy without me even realizing it. It was like admiring flowers, clouds, or a famous painting.
“Sorry for judging your face.”
Even as I spoke, I felt shallow, so I apologized. I hoped I hadn’t offended him.
“It’s fine. I asked.”
“But this isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned the one hundred and fifty million won to you. Don’t you remember?”
“Huh?”
I subtly tried to dig into his memories from the ‘Omegaverse.’
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I was sick, but there are a lot of things I don’t remember.”
So that was how it had been handled. The system tampered with other people’s memories too. Goosebumps rose on my skin again. Everything about it felt far too sinister.
I don’t care about any of this. I miss Kim Jihwan. I feel like I’d calm down if Kim Jihwan were here.
Bzzzt-.
Just as I thought that I wanted to see him, a message arrived from Kim Jihwan.
I watched for the right moment, then called him as I left the house. Where are you? He was someone who rarely answered messages, much less called me.
Something had happened. It had to have.
I made the call and began speaking before the other person could hang up.
“Hello?”
A brief silence.
Then an answer.
―Hello.
It felt like hearing my own voice echoing through a cave. An awkward yet familiar sensation. It was clearly my voice, but it wasn’t my voice.
“Are you the doppelgänger?”
The guy on the other end laughed and admitted that he was.
“Is Jihwan with you?”
―No.
“So you’re a phone thief?”
―Are you coming to find me?
The doppelgänger’s obedient attitude made me wonder whether it was a trap.
But rather than sitting around doing nothing, it seemed more meaningful to accept ‘Baek Hanrim’s’ offer, even if it was somewhat risky.
“You come here.”
That didn’t mean I was going to come running just because he called me like some mutt.
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