Trust Only Your Hyungs
The penthouse of a mixed-use high-rise in Gangnam.
Lee Chaerin had made it home, but she couldn't calm down no matter what she did. The image of Han Jiyoung sprawled flat on the asphalt kept flickering before her eyes.
This was an idol she occasionally crossed paths with at the broadcasting station, no less. That Han Jiyoung — so haughty and aloof onstage — had set a whole cow's head out in front of her, thrown a full-blown gut ritual, and dropped into a deep formal bow?
Wasn't she even a little embarrassed?
Then, out of nowhere, an even more horrifying thought grazed across her mind. Don't tell me... Jeong Wooseok had gone and prostrated himself in front of that thing too? That Jeong Wooseok? The longer she turned it over, the less sense it made.
Chaerin stood in front of the mirror and tried to picture herself pressing her palms together and bowing before a crowd.
"Absolutely not..."
Impossible. Not in a million years. She wouldn't do it even if she died and came back to life. Chaerin jerked her head in a hard shake.
She had no idea when Jeong Wooseok would be entering Hell's 8th floor, but she had five attempts of her own. She didn't need any fortune-telling — she would simply blast through the 7th floor and catch up to the 8th. Simple as that.
"Right. I'll clear it on my own skill. I'm no shaman."
That was the conclusion she forced on herself, yet somehow a corner of her chest still felt stubbornly uneasy.
Today's income...
Bonghyuk was going through his bank account.
Even after paying off every last won of his maxed-out overdraft—
A full fifteen million won. Sitting right there.
Uu... uhh-hhk...
He felt tears coming on.
Samseon Hainex was still rocketing for the sky, and the inverse fund Bonghyuk was trapped in still hugged the bottom of the chart — but the debts were gone, every last one.
It had barely been a month since he'd Awakened and was living off instant ramen, seriously wondering whether he'd survive. Measured against then, the number on that screen was nothing short of a miracle.
And Wooseok's Hell clears had already brought in over fifty million won — so long as he kept climbing, Bonghyuk's life couldn't get any better.
"This is happiness..."
Bonghyuk stared at the balance again and again, grinning contentedly to himself.
Tomorrow was a day off for Bongshindang. Come to think of it, he'd gone and washed the clothes Jian had bought him, which meant he now had nothing to wear. He opened the closet: two pairs of stretched-out tracksuits. That was the entire inventory.
Maybe this was as good a time as any to buy some clothes. Just like Jian said, what you wore really did seem to matter.
Bonghyuk fired a message into the group chat.
Both Jian and Doyeon were out. He was just wondering whether he'd have to go alone when—
An unfamiliar username had popped into the chat.
Huh? Who's that? WOOSUK... wait. Jeong Wooseok?
Bonghyuk's fingers flew over the keyboard.
So Jian had invited him. How long had he been sitting in this chatroom?
He could practically see the smirk through the screen.
Ha... Why did the guy keep hovering around like this?
It genuinely baffled Bonghyuk — why would Jeong Wooseok, South Korea's greatest hero, keep drifting closer and closer to his orbit? In truth, the reason was simple.
Since Awakening at eighteen, Wooseok had never once in his life possessed a friend. The Tower, the Tower, the Tower. His whole existence had been the Tower and nothing else. Everyone revered him as a hero, as an SSS-rank — no one had ever treated him simply as Jeong Wooseok.
But then he'd met Bonghyuk, who spoke to him in easy, deference-free casual speech from the very first meeting — along with the endearing Doyeon and the warm-hearted Jian — and somehow, he'd found himself wanting to stay by their side. Though Wooseok himself only half-understood it.
And so an appointment was made, and the two of them agreed to meet up.
If we're shopping, shouldn't we hit an outlet or a department store? Why on earth did he want to meet in a place like this?
The meeting spot was a quiet back alley in Cheongdam.
With the tall Jeong Wooseok standing beside him, Bonghyuk somehow felt a good deal smaller than usual. He tipped his head up at Wooseok and asked,
"So. And you know fashion how, exactly? Just so we're clear, I'm buying brand-name. None of that no-name junk."
"I know a place."
The place Wooseok took him to was the luxury boutique where he served as house ambassador.
The marble floor gleamed smooth as a mirror; a chandelier scattered jewel-light across the ceiling. Under the soft lighting, every garment on display looked anything but ordinary. Even the fragrance brushing the tip of his nose — perfume, or some expensive diffuser — smelled like money.
Bonghyuk was flustered. Something about the place insisted he did not belong in it.
"Oh my~ Wooseok-nim! Welcome!"
The store manager came rushing out to greet Wooseok. Bonghyuk shuffled in awkwardly behind him.
Then the manager stole a glance at Bonghyuk standing at Wooseok's side, and—
"You're his manager, aren't you? Perfect timing — I was just hoping to send something out. These are our new-season pieces, sponsor items, you see? Could you load them into the car?"
With that, she briskly deposited several shopping bags into Bonghyuk's arms.
Bonghyuk took them in a daze.
...Manager?
He blinked a few times, walked up to Wooseok, and thrust the bags out.
"Here. They're yours."
Wooseok accepted them without so much as a blink.
At that sight, the manager's eyes went round as saucers.
...'Yours'...?
Who on this earth would dare toss a casual "they're yours" at Jeong Wooseok, hero of the Republic of Korea?
The manager's face drained white, and she ventured carefully,
"M-may I ask who you are...?"
"Do Bonghyuk."
Wooseok gave the manager a brief look and answered in two words.
"He's my friend."
At that, the manager jolted and began fluttering about in a panic.
"Oh — I-I'm so sorry! That was terribly rude of me. I had no idea—"
"It's fine."
The manager gave Bonghyuk a slow, appraising once-over. Word had it that genuinely rich men went about in track suits... surely not?
"Please pick out some clothes for my friend."
At Wooseok's word, the manager and her staff burst into motion, returning with armfuls of garments. Bonghyuk, only half-following how he'd ended up here, stood before the mirror trying on one thing after another.
"How about this one? Oh — this line would suit you beautifully as well."
After a few trips in and out of the fitting room—
"Wooow...!"
The eyes of the manager and her staff went perfectly round.
"Your friend cleans up every bit as well as Wooseok-nim! Dressed like this, he's straight-up a celebrity. His face is glowing — actually glowing. Tidy up that hair of his a little and the two of you could co-star in a film."
Drenched in this deluge of flattery—
"Uh, th-th... um. Thank you."
Bonghyuk scratched the back of his neck, sheepish.
He did like what he saw in the mirror.
Clothes really do make the man.
And he had money now, too. Time to flex!
"I'll take these."
"Of course — I'll ring you up."
At that, Wooseok smoothly slid his card across.
"Yah. I have money too, you know?"
Bonghyuk shouldered Wooseok aside and checked the register total—
"Gah."
Insane.
F-four point six million won?
"Since you're our ambassador, we've tucked in a little gift for you."
"I'm paying. Think of it as a divination fee."
"I-it's, r-really, f-fine, though...?"
Even as the words left his mouth, Bonghyuk's hand had already slipped his Kakao Bank debit card quietly back into his wallet.
Still — was this madness or what? What kind of clothes ran four point six—
"Payment complete. Is there anything else you need?"
Bonghyuk hesitated a moment, then spoke up.
"Do you happen to carry women's clothing? Nothing too expensive — just, uh... something reasonable. Keep it under fifty thousand won a piece."
"For your girlfriend?"
"No. My mom and my little sister."
"Oh my, what a devoted son you are! We do, we do. How about these?"
The manager eagerly recommended one thing after another, but Bonghyuk couldn't tell any of them apart.
"Just pick the pretty ones."
And with that, Bonghyuk flexed once more.
Two T-shirts: 750,000 won.
One of them was even a complimentary gift, apparently — the perks of being an ambassador.
He batted away Wooseok's outstretched card again. This time, Bonghyuk settled the bill himself.
"Thank you~!"
A whole month of living expenses, gone in one lump.
...Urgh.
They hadn't even asked how many months of installments he wanted.
Outside the store—
"You eaten? I'm heading home to eat."
It had been a while since Bonghyuk visited the family home. A long, long while. If he stayed away any longer, his mother might start rattling on about her son's obituary or some other nonsense.
"Home?"
"Yeah. My parents' place."
"...Right. I'm off, then."
Hands buried in his pockets, Wooseok strode off, making to vanish.
"Yah. Come along, then."
He glanced back at that.
"Am I allowed to come?"
"Told you. You're my friend."
At those words, he crept back over, sidling like an enormous puppy.
"You go home often?"
"No."
"You should go more. Not that I go either. My mom rides me about it every single day."
"..."
Wooseok gave no answer. He simply walked after Bonghyuk in silence.
They detoured through a market to buy beef, and with gift bags stacked on both arms, headed for the family home on the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province.
Ding-dong—
He pressed the doorbell.
"Well, look who it is! If it isn't my son Bonghyuk!"
Mrs. Kim Namsuk lit up as she opened the door. As it happened, his little sister Bongsuk was home too, and she poked her head out from the back room. "Oppa?"
"Hey, Bongsuk."
"Excuse me? It's Minjeong. ...What's that in your hands? Don't tell me — my present?"
"Yep."
"For real? From you?"
"Yep. Found it on the way over. But it's Bongsuk's."
"I'm Bongsuk, you jerk — who else would Bongsuk be!"
Bongsuk checked the brand on the shopping bag, and then—
"Ch-Chanel???? KYAAAAAAH—!"
With a dolphin-pitch shriek, she flung the bag away as though she'd laid hands on something no mortal was permitted to touch — then scurried straight back to snatch it up again.
"This is insane, right? Chanel? Pff — it's a knockoff, isn't it?"
"It's real. Bought it at the boutique."
"Mom! I think Oppa's actually trying to die! What's wrong with him?"
"Right? Is something wrong with him?"
Mrs. Kim Namsuk looked every bit as bewildered. And no wonder — a son who hadn't so much as texted to say whether he was alive or dead had just walked in hauling luxury gifts.
Right at that moment—
A tall shadow slid out from behind Bonghyuk.
"Good afternoon."
Bongsuk's eyes went slowly, steadily round.
The face was familiar.
Familiar to the point of absurdity.
That face, on the TV every single day — on billboards, in the news.
"Th-that's... Jeong Wooseok...?"
"KYAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!"
A scream several times louder than the last one rang out across the entire neighborhood.
Ssssssss—
Hanwoo beef browned to a beautiful gold on the grill plate.
The mood was somehow awkward. Bongsuk, her expression stiff as a robot's, kept sneaking glances at Jeong Wooseok out of the corner of her eye. Understandable, really — Korea's greatest hero was grilling meat in her family's living room. A touch of unreality was only natural.
Mrs. Kim Namsuk, however, feared no guest.
"Eat up. You're Bonghyuk's friend, so speak comfortably, alright?"
"Of course."
"My, what a handsome friend. However did our Bonghyuk get so close with someone like you? I'd take you for a son myself."
Her eyes were absolutely brimming with hearts.
"We just... sort of ended up this way."
"And this rascal Bonghyuk — if you're bringing a friend, at least give us some warning. Look at these sad little side dishes."
Soybean paste stew, seasoned pumpkin greens, soy-braised beef, stir-fried anchovies. A humble spread — but clean, honest home cooking.
"I doubt he eats this kind of thing often? Bet he's off carving hotel steaks every day."
Undented by Bonghyuk's jab, Wooseok lifted a bite of the pumpkin greens and chewed it slowly, thoroughly.
"...It's delicious."
"Suits your taste? Eat plenty, then. I'll pack you some if you'd like."
"Pack him— Mom, come on. Seriously."
"If you pack it, I will gratefully eat it."
"Ha."
Bonghyuk was floored.
An SSS-rank who spent millions of won like loose change, asking to take pumpkin greens home.
Even after the meal, Wooseok showed no intention of leaving.
He posed for selfies with Bongsuk, leaned back against the living room sofa plucking slices from the fruit plate Mom kept peeling, and stared blankly at the television.
He sat planted there for the longest time.
As if he'd been part of this household from the very beginning.
In the end, it was Bonghyuk who had to scold him.
"Yah. When exactly are you leaving? Let's go already. Why do you look more at home here than I do?"
"Yeah."
At Bonghyuk's jab, Wooseok began gathering himself up—
SMACK—!
"And whyyy are you snapping at your friend, hm?"
Arms full of snacks, Mrs. Kim Namsuk delivered a resounding swat to Bonghyuk's backside.
"Finish these before you go."
"...Yes, ma'am."
A faint smile had spread across the corners of Wooseok's mouth.
Outside, the road had darkened at some point, and the two of them walked it.
"Man, I'm about to burst."
Then—
Bzzt—
do-do-ro-do-doo~
A ringtone sang out.
Huh?
Doyeon almost never called. And at this hour — what could it be?
Bonghyuk answered.
"Hey, Doyeon."
"Hyung..."
A voice thick with tears came through the line. Bonghyuk startled.
"Hyung... help me..."
"What's wrong?"
"What do I do? Mom — they're saying Mom's critical. Uhhk..."
"Critical?"
Perhaps he'd caught the voice through the phone, because Wooseok turned toward Bonghyuk.
"Where are you?"
"Hankuk University Hospital..."
"Hold on just a moment."
Bonghyuk was hurriedly trying to flag down a taxi when—
"No taxi needed. Security team, step out, please."
At Wooseok's words, suited men emerged from the darkness far down the street.
How long had they been tailing him? A chill crawled up Bonghyuk's spine.
"Have a car standing by immediately, please."
Barely had the words left his mouth before a black vehicle glided up and stopped in front of the two of them.
"Hankuk University Hospital."
The car tore down the road without a moment's hesitation.
The lobby outside the intensive care unit at Hankuk University Hospital.
The moment Wooseok and Bonghyuk stepped in, Doyeon turned toward them, face crumpling with tears—
"Hueeeeng—!"
—and crashed into Bonghyuk's arms.
"Waaaaaahhh—!"
"It's okay. Doyeon, talk to me. What happened?"
"Mom's critical, they said! Hic—! I didn't know what to do."
Bonghyuk patted Doyeon's back, soothing him.
"There. It's okay. It's okay."
On the broadcasts he'd seemed so sharp and capable — seen up close like this, he was unmistakably still a kid.
Bonghyuk had known Doyeon's mother was ill. He hadn't known she was this bad.
And yet all this while, Doyeon had kept the streams running with that same bright smile?
Wooseok stopped a doctor who was just stepping out of the ICU.
"What is the situation?"
"Ah... she took a sudden turn for the worse. We need to administer a drug called Nairozedine, but there's no way to source it right now..."
"How do we obtain it? Can it be bought with money?"
The doctor shook his head.
"Not even with money. The raw material is the blood of the Labyrinth Blue Crayfish, a creature from inside the Tower. Given the blood itself, extraction is simple — but it's... it's a material that only appears on upper-rank stages and above. The stages it shows up on are limited, and worldwide it's exceedingly rare."
The Tower?
It was inside the Tower?
Bonghyuk and Wooseok turned to look at each other.
"Doyeon. Get into the Tower lobby right now."
"Wh-what?"
"Jeong Wooseok. You free?"
"Obviously."
"Let's go. Time for a reading."
Jeong Wooseok and Do Bonghyuk.
Korea's greatest Awakener — and a shaman who could see straight through the Tower.
When it came to the Tower, no two people alive inspired more trust. They laid their hands on Doyeon's shoulders at the same moment.
Fwoosh—!
All three of them vanished at once.
© KAY™#13lul
Author's Note
Thank you for reading.
Onward and upward!