Chapter 2
Han Yaseong let out a sigh and trudged alone toward the cafeteria.
Seeing Kwon Seoha always lifted his spirits, but afterward, his mood would inevitably sink again. It was much like the hollow emptiness that followed a late-night wank.
I wish I could just talk to her once...
Such thoughts crossed his mind, but he had no connection whatsoever with Kwon Seoha. Different majors, different clubs. The only thing they shared was a single general elective class once a week. Nothing else. No opportunity for conversation.
"Sigh... Might as well grab some food."
Shaking his head, Han Yaseong pulled out his wallet and entered the school cafeteria.
After devouring breakfast-slash-lunch, with no classes until 3 p.m., he headed to the club room for a bit. He'd joined a club thinking it was expected of a college student, and after much deliberation, he'd ended up in the Mystery Club on a whim.
It wasn't like he was particularly into mysteries. He'd simply been struck by an incredibly beautiful woman with a killer figure at the recruitment booth and impulsively signed up. He'd been mulling over the film club, scuba diving, or tennis.
But that stunning beauty had suddenly latched onto him, urging him to join the Mystery Club. No, it was more like a one-sided seduction. She'd hooked her arm through his, smiling as she said, "You're a freshman, right? Join our club. It's super fun," refusing to let him go.
Flustered, he'd grabbed a pen and filled out the application—heart pounding from the soft press of her ample breasts against his arm.
That was when he learned she was a third-year senior named Choi Yujin. Queen of the Hotel Management Department and the campus's very own "Queen." Quite a few freshman guys had joined the Mystery Club because of her.
The funny part? Over two months had passed without Choi Yujin showing her face at the club once.
She was enrolled in over ten clubs, apparently. She'd only appeared that day because her cohort and juniors had begged and pleaded for help recruiting freshmen to save the club from disbandment.
With membership dwindling to the point of closure, they'd called on the campus queen—who was nominally part of the leadership. She'd thrown herself into it, roping in over thirty freshman guys in two hours. Then... poof. No sign of her for two months.
Without Choi Yujin, most of the guys who'd joined on a lark stopped coming. Thriving clubs were the ones packed with pretty coeds. No way a drab mystery club would attract them.
So, actual active members—freshmen through seniors—totaled just thirteen. But with all those paper members from recruitment day, disbandment was averted. Otherwise, Han Yaseong might've joined only to watch it fold immediately.
He dropped by the club room in the annex building once or twice a week during free lecture slots. No one bothered him, no uncomfortable vibes. Everyone had mellow personalities, so he could just chill and do his own thing.
The annex was four stories, every room a clubroom. Rumor had it Hanyoung University had hundreds of clubs. Only the popular ones scored rooms here.
Climbing to the fourth floor, Han Yaseong stood before the door labeled "Mystery Club," knocked twice, and entered.
A lone girl wearing glasses sat at the table, reading a book. She looked up. Recognizing her, he greeted her quickly.
"Hi."
"Hey, Yaseong. Come on in."
She was Jang Euna, a third-year Economics major and the Mystery Club president. Same year as Choi Yujin, but quiet and reserved, with few words. She didn't fuss with makeup, always casual. Hair tied back, simple tee and jeans. Slim build, nothing standout.
Still, Han Yaseong found President Euna comfortable. Probably because they were both passive and tight-lipped.
"Lecture free?"
"Yeah. Got one at 3."
She nodded, adjusted her glasses, and returned to her book. Han Yaseong grabbed a mystery novel from the shelf, sat across from her, and started reading.
Quiet time flowed by. The hallway buzzed with noise from other clubs, but the Mystery Club room felt serene with just the two of them.
After a while, Han Yaseong set his book down and gazed out the window. Beautiful day. Clear blue sky, lazy white clouds drifting. From the fourth-floor perch, the chair offered a full view of endless azure.
As he stared at the sky, Euna's voice broke the silence.
"Nice sky today, huh?"
"Yeah."
Turning, he saw her with glasses off, rubbing her eyes, also skyward. She wasn't bad-looking, but without makeup, nothing popped. Plain and unadorned. Probably why she was single. Still, word was she aced Econ, top of her class.
Han Yaseong read a bit longer, checked his watch, and stood. Sensing it, Euna looked up from her book.
"Heading out?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. See ya."
"Bye, take care."
He said his goodbyes and left. That's why he came sometimes—this quiet, easygoing spot. No nagging, no demands. He'd seen other clubs run like boot camps, some ex-conscript screaming discipline at underclassmen. Most bailed after that. Who wants military drills in a club?
Had that happened here, he'd have quit too.
Finishing his afternoon major lecture, Han Yaseong shuffled out the main gate. Around 6 p.m., students already milled around the pubs nearby. Nights turned the area into a full-blown party zone: drunks, pukers, brawlers, screamers, crying girls. He'd tried it once, got grossed out, and left.
Not his scene. He always headed home early.
What to eat tonight?
Mulling dinner, he walked home. Another uneventful day. Except for glimpsing Kwon Seoha. Next chance: next week's lecture.
He trudged on, sighing naturally. Life felt pointless. Endless repetition. College was supposed to change things, but it was barely different from high school. Just more free time—which meant more boredom.
Stopping at a convenience store en route, he grabbed instant rice, ramen, kimchi, drinks. Back home, he unlocked the door to an empty living room. So vacant, he sometimes thought of getting a dog. But he lacked the confidence to care for one.
Dumping his bag on the desk, he changed, showered, nuked the rice, boiled ramen, and ate dinner.
Then, on the sofa, he glanced at the living room clock: just 7 p.m. Nothing to do now. Evenings dragged with emptiness. No plans, he just paced between living room and bedroom.
His gaze fell on the attic door. Face serious, he pondered.
"Ah, I swore I'd never go back..."
He'd stumbled into the attic, somehow ended up somewhere else, returned—and vowed never again. Too terrifying. No guarantee of coming back.
But boredom gnawed. The itch to go once more crept in. That place was different. Adventure, exploration possible.
Yet too dangerous, too unknown. He hesitated.
"What to do?"
Han Yaseong stared at the attic door, wrestling with the dilemma. Step inside, and he might never return. Last time was sheer luck. No assurance it'd hold twice.