#27 Acting and Misconception (2)
The dinner spot Yuchan had chosen for him and Minjeong was a blowfish restaurant they frequented often. It wasn't some fancy gourmet place, but the quiet atmosphere, reasonable prices for what it was, and solid quality had made it a bimonthly ritual before things grew awkward between them. The course began with thin slices of blowfish sashimi wrapped in water dropwort and dipped in ponzu sauce.
"It's been a while since we've had dinner together, Teacher Min."
"Come to think of it, wasn't this the place you first brought me to?"
"I'd never tried blowfish before because it scared me."
Do Minjeong wiped her hands with the lukewarm moist towel and ate the sashimi with practiced ease. Yuchan was passionate about cooking and obsessed with finding great food, so he knew every decent restaurant in the area. Minjeong had been the biggest beneficiary of that. He'd dragged her picky, selective eater to all sorts of unfamiliar spots, broadening her palate. There had been failures, but the success rate was high enough that she was grateful for it. Someday he'd invite her home and treat her to a nice meal. It was a shame things had turned out this way. She could've made a pretty good partner for him.
Among the women Yuchan had met, Do Minjeong ranked at the top for intelligence and appeal. She clearly liked him too. Yuchan slowly pieced together his inferences about the situation in his mind.
First, Minjeong had likely noticed his relationship with Nayae. Based purely on the circumstances, the odds were about eighty percent. Anything beyond that—like realizing he'd raped and imprisoned Nayae—was close to zero. Dating a much younger student was just an ethical issue, something people might point fingers at but not enough to land him in legal trouble. If push came to shove, he could have Nayae cover for him in various ways. Have her claim he was a distant relative caring for her at her parents' request. It might sound like a lame excuse, but there'd be no way for Minjeong to verify it. No big deal.
"Who was the first person crazy enough to try this stuff? Seems like they'd drop dead no matter where they bit into it."
"It used to be a rare delicacy only the elite with personal chefs could enjoy. But the world's gotten so much better—now even commoners like us can have it for dinner."
"Sigh~ Still too pricey. If it weren't for you, Teacher Yuchan, I'd never come here. You shouldn't have told me about it..."
"Nothing really compares to blowfish, texture and flavor-wise. It's so unique. But it's delicious, right?"
"Well, if it tastes good, that's what matters."
Minjeong eased into casual chit-chat, the kind they'd normally share. It was the mark of someone experienced in social situations—not diving straight into the main topic. Just as Yuchan probed her with his words, she was subtly observing him. On the surface, it was the same warm vibe as always, but there was a subtle chill in the air.
"By the way, what's the poison in blowfish guts called? Tetrodotoxin or something? I heard it's ten times stronger than cyanide."
"Tetrodotoxin. It's not just in the guts—it's in the eyes, blood, brain, liver, and skin too. It's a non-protein neurotoxin that blocks sodium channels between nerves and muscle membranes. Being non-protein means it doesn't break down; the toxicity lingers."
Minjeong perked up her ears at Yuchan's calm explanation. He watched her intently as he continued. Thanks to his father's genius training regimen, his knowledge of chemicals—especially poisons—was expert-level.
"The selectively blocked sodium channels reduce sodium ion permeability, disrupting action potentials in nerves and muscles, leading to flaccid paralysis."
"And then what happens?"
"Effects usually kick in after about twenty minutes. Limbs stiffen first, then eventually the respiratory muscles, and you suffocate to death."
"I've heard that too. They say you're conscious right up to the end."
It was common knowledge from mystery novels and movies. Even the cliché of using it to fake a coma state.
"The receptors are concentrated in motor nerves, so intercostal and diaphragm muscles lock up around the fourth hour, but the heart keeps beating fine—no cardiac arrest. You always die from respiratory failure. No thrashing in agony, no ugly grimaces. You just lie there like a mannequin, fully aware you're dying, suffering in silence."
Minjeong's expression soured as she chewed her sashimi, the chill of tension hanging in the air like she'd choked. Yuchan stared at her with unnerving seriousness.
"If I ever had to kill someone, I'd use blowfish poison. Just rub it on the skin for effect. And it's hard to detect."
Yuchan's second hypothesis: Minjeong knew about the body he'd stored at home. This morbid trivia was his indirect probe. Even if she stonewalled verbally, her eyes, body language, and Black Box would reveal the truth. How much did this woman, Do Minjeong, really know about him?
February 7th. The night he'd raped Nayae and returned home. A corpse had been on his chair. Back then, he'd assumed it was some psycho's doing and scoured everywhere for traces, but found nothing. Minjeong was his colleague, so predicting his movements would've been easy. Moving the body while he was out? Trivial.
What if Minjeong was the X he'd been hunting? His feelings toward X were already sour. The bastard had ruined Yuchan's favorite chair with that pointless surprise and even tried to kill him using Seohyun's stalker. X had smashed the CCTV, left no fingerprints, severed every lead—leaving Yuchan without even a shadow to chase.
Minjeong gazed at him with trembling eyes. She casually lifted her water glass, but couldn't hide the quiver in her fingertips.
"Cold?"
"Oh, no. Your creepy talk just spooked me a bit. How do you even eat blowfish soup after hearing that?"
"This place uses farmed blowfish, so no worries. They don't have the toxin."
Yuchan flashed a bright smile. Minjeong set down her glass and fidgeted with her hands under the table. At least one thing was certain: she knew something solid about his true nature. How dangerous he was. Of course, this all assumed her reactions weren't an act.
His throat burned. X saw him as a threat. If someone warped Yuchan further morally, stripped his self-control, and prioritized safety over pleasure, you'd get an X. Not just insane, but rationally self-preserving—that made him uneasy. No, not self-preserving. X just wanted to prolong this little game, like Yuchan did.
Conversely, if X wanted the game to end, it was simple: anonymously tip off the cops about the body in his house. With that level of thoroughness—bugs planted—he probably had photos. Yuchan's place was stuffed with illicit items, and a thorough drain inspection in the tub would reveal blood traces and victim DNA. Meaning the woman trembling before him might hold his fate.
Minjeong's acting was top-notch, rivaling his own. X's schemes might even be more meticulous. Her earlier reactions? Calculated performance. It felt like chess against an invisible foe. The idea that sweet Minjeong by his side was the puppet master almost made him laugh.
"Earlier, you asked if anything was up with Yujin."
"Oh, no no. Not like that... Did it bother you?"
"Didn't peg you for such a good actress, Teacher Min."
"Huh? Actress?"
"You already know everything, don't you?"
Yuchan didn't think he could protect everything. X's stalker ploy meant thorough prior intel. Against someone tracking his every move, hiding it all was futile—better to bait and strike.
"Wh-what do you mean...? What do I know?"
Minjeong's eyes betrayed genuine confusion as Yuchan watched.
"You figured out I'm tutoring Nayae privately, right?"
He tossed the bait, discarding a safety net. Hiding a sharp hook in the lure she'd already nibbled.
"Uh, um, well..."
Her face shifted inscrutably in an instant. Even a skilled actress couldn't mask a whirlwind of emotions that fast: shock bordering on fear, then fluster, capped by faint relief. Yuchan zeroed in on that relief.
"Yeah, I knew."
She admitted it easily. Why the relief? Why confess so readily? Because the info he'd dangled seemed trivial. She knew something far more damning.
"I thought that's why you'd been avoiding me."
"Not at all..."
"I get how the age gap might make it uncomfortable from your perspective. No excuses there."
A lover's declaration that would've left Nayae beaming.
"You didn't call me out here to lecture me on that, did you? Sorry if I'm off-base, but getting called out as a teacher would bum me out. I put real thought into this."
"No, I'd never meddle in your love life. Um, I hang out with Nayae a lot too. She's diligent, and so mature she doesn't even seem twenty..."
With an escape route open, Minjeong's eyes darted as she spun her words. Loosen the noose, and prey bolts down the visible path. Time for the real reason she'd requested this tête-à-tête.
"Still, she's a student with big exams ahead. Maybe a bit more consideration as adults?"
"I agree, so I'm being as accommodating as possible."
"Um, don't take this the wrong way, but I mentioned my keen sense of smell, right?"
"Of course, I remember."
Minjeong hemmed and hawed, then shook her head with an "It's nothing." She'd hoped he'd catch the hint there—too embarrassing to spell out.
Yuchan had anticipated her next words anyway. If she'd smelled Nayae on him, she'd smelled him on Nayae too. With daily creampies at lunch, no mere wet wipe could erase that musk. She couldn't call out classroom sex to his face. But was that really why she'd arranged this? If she was X, maybe to savor the thrill, to gaslight him up close after he'd grown suspicious.
"Ah..."
And finally, Yuchan realized the truth. He'd been a fool. But the situation left no choice.
"Sorry for making things awkward."
Without his Black Box ability, he'd have pegged Minjeong as X completely. Everything would've played into the bastard's hands. No pushover. But keep baiting him like this, and Yuchan wouldn't sit idle. X had made a fatal mistake. Today's clumsy provocation would be repaid tenfold.