Chapter 186
“No. I'll contact you if I need anything later.”
After getting the blacksmith owner's number from the arms dealer uncle, Han Yaseong called right away. The signal connected after a moment, and a gruff man's voice answered.
“Yes, Daegong Ironworks.”
“I'm calling on the arms dealer's recommendation. I heard you can make a greatsword.”
“Ah, that? Yeah, we can. If you show us what it looks like, we can replicate it exactly.”
“Alright, I'll send you a photo then. I also need chain mail and iron arm guards that wrap from wrist to elbow. I'll send pics of everything—could you give me a quote?”
Han Yaseong hung up and forwarded the greatsword image he'd saved from the internet earlier, along with full-body chain mail and the arm guards. He called back, and the blacksmith picked up with the estimate ready.
“For stuff like this, it'll run about two hundred. Exact replicas, right?”
“Yes. And they have to be extremely sturdy. Weight's no issue—even if it's heavy. How long will it take?”
“About a week. Send half upfront, and we'll start immediately.”
“Got it. Text me the account number—I'll wire a million won.”
After hanging up, the account details came through via text. Han Yaseong charged a million won on his credit card right away.
With that done, senior Choi Yujin returned to her seat.
“What're you up to?”
“Oh, just checking my phone. You know them?”
“Yeah, friends from the Chinese conversation club. We hang out before semester starts.”
“How many clubs are you even in?”
“Joined about twenty as a freshman, but I only go to ten now. Dropped the useless, boring ones. Was gonna quit the mystery club too, but stuck around for Eun-a. Now it's for you, though—I can't bail.”
“Ten? That's insane.”
“Travel club and scuba are the best. Wanna join? Tons of hot girls.”
The scuba club had Kwon Seoha and the other queen bees—the so-called four campus beauties of the freshman English Lit department. Of course, it drew plenty of upperclassmen beauties too, which explained why guys always flocked there. Scuba was the biggest club on campus, with over fifty members per grade, men and women combined.
He'd heard the travel club had its share of hotties, but he didn't know much. Their room was far from the mystery club. The Chinese conversation one was closer, so he'd glimpsed faces in passing.
“How do you even manage all that?”
“Weekends are packed. College life's all about clubs—they become your best memories after graduation. You're only in mystery club, right?”
“Yeah. And you basically shoved your chest in my face to drag me in.”
“Hehe, I've roped in plenty that way. Problem is, I barely show up myself. If you hadn't come to MT last time, I'd still have no clue who you are. Might've ended up dating some other guy.”
“True.”
It was coincidence piled on coincidence turning into fate. Just two months ago, he and senior Choi Yujin were total strangers. Well, he knew of her, but she had no idea he existed.
Thinking back, going to that MT was a stroke of luck. If senior Eun-a hadn't pushed him in front of the department building, he wouldn't have. In a way, she was the key to him and Choi Yujin getting close. And now Yujin had reconnected him with Eun-a—fate really did come full circle.
“Alright, let's head out. If we go to my place first, it'll be late.”
True to her promise of one more round at home, senior Choi Yujin stood. Han Yaseong followed, paid at the counter, and as they left the beer hall, she turned to wave at the Chinese club folks. They waved back like “see ya,” and as he glanced over, his eyes met a few of theirs. No one seemed to care.
Walking out, Han Yaseong asked senior Choi Yujin,
“What'd you say about me?”
“Huh?”
“To them. You said I came with you, right?”
“Oh, that? Just said I came with a club junior. They bought me dinner, so.”
“They won't think boyfriend or anything?”
“Nah. They know my standards are sky-high. But word's out I broke up—someone posted on the school board. Now they're all pushing blind dates since I'm single.”
“Lucky you.”
Han Yaseong sulked. How was he supposed to keep his guard up now? Guys would swarm her, desperate to set her up. No wonder dating a beauty was hard—protecting her, even harder.
No one dared approach when kingka Seo Taeha was her boyfriend. But now? Single status meant every self-proclaimed kingka would line up.
Seo Taeha would get the same from girls, obviously. Top dogs like them never stayed single long—approaches came from all sides the second they were free. Average folks? No one bothered, so they stayed solo forever.
Seeing Han Yaseong mope, Choi Yujin quickly hooked her arm in his and pouted cutely.
“Aww, is my baby sulking? 'Cause sis is so popular?”
“I wanna be like Seo Taeha, popular for once. No worries in the world.”
“True. Basketball games? Girls swarm the stands cheering—total chaos. On the team bus home, some even throw panties.”
“Must be nice. Pick any girl you want.”
“Popular players do. Clubs? Girls line up. Heroes get the girls for a reason—hot guys can't help falling when they're swarmed. But you want that? Become a stud, have girls chase you.”
“Who wouldn't? Sit back, they scream and fawn... Not for guys like me. Ever.”
“Then go into TV or something. Can't be an athlete overnight. Hit action school, become an actor. Girls'll swoon over you too—pick 'em off one by one. That's your dream, right? So naive, kid.”
Senior Choi Yujin tsked and unhooked her arm. A popular girl couldn't grasp an average guy's feelings.
“You can't know, being so popular.”
“Popularity ain't all great. Every move's watched. I watch my back even peeing—pervs sneak in with phones. Can't trust girls anymore; some take cash to snap pics for guys. Pops up online sometimes: chicks holding phones outside women's bathrooms, waiting for celeb girls. Pathetic. This country's full of third-rate creeps. That's why I won't be an idol. Already uncomfortable with stares here—imagine worse. Idols must love being ogled. Exhibitionists or whatever. Not me. I want freedom.”
Han Yaseong didn't crave celebrity-level fame either. Just enough female attention—enough for Kwon Seoha to glance his way once. But right now? Invisible. No eyes on him, anywhere, anytime. Just another transparent human.
And that was 99% of humanity—mutual strangers, no interest. Die tomorrow, and only family and friends notice. No one knows how you lived. Kinda sad, maybe.
Celebs get obituaries detailing their lives on TV. Everyone else? A death notice at best—no news blip. Just live and fade away.