Chapter 69
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Butterfly Effect (3)
'Looks like the cafe's finally calming down a bit.'
It was a weekday afternoon, and the place that had been swamped with customers just a short while ago had settled into a relative peace.
Of course, it wasn't like business had died off completely—no flies buzzing around or anything. Just fewer customers compared to before.
[Suggest installing kiosks to the owner!]
[Install them! Install them!]
The staff had been clamoring nonstop for kiosks because of the insane crowds, and I'd been planning to do it if things stayed that way for another month. But holding off and watching the situation was the right call.
'Hmm, kiosks are convenient and all, but they just feel so impersonal.'
A cafe's supposed to be a place where customers and staff chat and connect.
With kiosks, though, conversation pretty much grinds to a halt. Not a fan.
'Am I being too old-school?'
But that's the kind of cafe I want to run!
Now that things have quieted down again, staff—all of you—no need for kiosks, right?
'Plus, if we install them, we might end up with too many employees and have to lay some off.'
How could I look them in the face and say, "Don't come in starting tomorrow" after we've all grown so close?
Sadly, I'm not cut out for business. Just imagining it made my chest ache.
"Ungh, I'll take a quick break then."
"Sure."
I handed the counter over to another employee and headed to the break room, sinking into the sofa for some rest.
Twenty minutes at most—not enough for a nap, so I pulled out my smartphone instead.
[US Pop Star Jason White Vanishes After Leaving Suicide Note]
['Sorry to my fans, but I can't go on.' Depression from a slump?]
Hmm, now this is an intriguing article.
Out of the bunch, I tapped the one that detailed Jason White's history.
[Jason White (27) is a veteran solo singer-songwriter who debuted at 18. His first album 'Your Heart' topped the Billboard charts, launching his career spectacularly. Hits like 'Brown Sugar' and 'Highway Man' followed. But three years ago, the dismal failure of his fourth album plunged him into a slump. Those close to him say he suffered severe depression. Fans hoped his upcoming Korea concert would signal his comeback...]
Truly heartbreaking.
A top-tier American singer, done in by a slump and depression, leaving a note and vanishing.
"Money isn't everything in this world, huh."
Some might say it is.
They think piles of cash guarantee happiness, but reality's more nuanced.
I've got enough money to live comfortably, yet here I am running a cafe, chasing a personal dream.
Once you're flush, people crave self-actualization.
'I learned about this psych theory in my past life. What was it again?'
Maslow's hierarchy of needs?
Once basic physiological needs are met, you seek physical safety. Then belonging, love from others.
'Next, respect, leading to a thirst for power.'
With power in hand, you pursue self-actualization—personal growth and dreams.
And once that's fulfilled? Transcendence, I think, but it's been so long I forgot what that means.
"Anyway, point is, more money leads people to chase other things."
Humans are wired to be trapped in desires till the grave.
Poor Jason White—guilt over unfulfilled dreams spiraled into depression and this drastic step.
'Him doing a Korea show while depressed is odd, but it happens.'
That's the scariest part of depression, right?
You seem fine—everyone, even you, lets their guard down—then bam, a mood shift triggers something impulsive.
That's why celebrity suicides spark conspiracies East and West: "They'd never!"
"Still, missing means there's hope."
Fingers crossed he turns up safe.
The fame-and-missing-persons combo led the news to cover recent Korean celeb disappearances.
"Hmm, even our country's got a ton of these."
Strangers to me, but photos of their vibrant lives hit hard.
With celebs involved, crime seemed possible, but articles said they all left notes or told loved ones they didn't want to live.
'And CCTV shows them leaving home alone, no coercion...'
Most then headed to remote mountains or woods sans cameras. Others flew abroad—same result: vanished.
'No signs of villain involvement.'
No suspicions found, so police and Heroes concluded suicides.
"Reading depressing news like this is bumming me out too."
What a way to spend a break.
I shut off my phone, forfeited the rest of my time, and got back to work.
'Huh? New faces.'
First-timers are always welcome.
They always check me out, aware of me.
Not celebrity delusion or anything—nice to get the attention.
The four new customers at that table? They were sneaking glances too.
'...Not so sneaky?'
They were straight-up staring.
Fun as eyes on me can be, this felt heavy, so I met their gazes to signal "knock it off."
"......"
A chill raced down my spine.
My hypnosis skill came with a side effect: eye contact lets me read emotions.
Theirs toward me...
'What the?'
Nothing.
Blank, like dolls just staring.
I forced a smile; they finally looked away.
'Th-that was creepy.'
Luckily, they left soon after, and I refocused.
'Hope no more like them.'
But seriously, what was that? Can people be that emotionless?
I've seen emotionally dry folks before—a desert oasis of feeling at least.
Those? Zero. Literal dry rags.
'Who knows. Big world, weird people.'
Maybe detectives or undercover Heroes.
Veterans in that line hide emotions masterfully, I've heard.
'Then why our cafe? Villain nearby?'
Overthinking's giving me a headache.
If they return, I'll chat 'em up casually. For now, ignore.
"Owner, I'm heading out first!"
"See you tomorrow, boss!"
"Yeah, get home safe, everyone."
Sent the staff off, finished solo cleanup, and hit the road home.
The streets felt extra chilly tonight—winter inching closer.
'Gotta get home, soak in hot water, and crash.'
Heading home.
Streetlights dimly lit the empty alley.
My footsteps echoed lonely companionship.
"......"
Not a narrow alley, but why did the echoes layer like multiple steps?
Slowed my pace—definitely other footsteps behind.
'Just... passersby?'
Glanced back: suit-clad women, including those shady cafe customers.
"Excuse me, do you need something?"
I'd kept distance, prepped hypnosis.
Eye contact earlier? Stage 1 hypnosis likely hit. This space—I could drop them all before they reached me, even charging.
Best case: coincidence. No such luck.
"Are you Yoo Jun-hyuk? Our Master wishes to meet you."
"Master? Who's that?"
"You'll see when you go."
"Not interested. If that's all..."
I backed up; they closed in fast.
No good vibes, so I unleashed prepped hypnosis.
The kind draining strength, freezing them.
"?"
But...
Why're they all moving fine?
It landed perfectly—no effect!
'Artifacts like Yu Ha-yul's?'
Those are insanely rare and pricey!
Ten closing in, all with them!?
"Y-you liars!"
Stage 2 on the ones grabbing my limbs—nothing.
Last sight: handkerchief soaked in clear liquid.
"Mmph! Mmph!"
Next, pink hair swayed before my eyes as I woke.
"You're awake at last!"
My head throbbed like splitting.
But this setup screamed abnormal, so reflexively: hypnosis on the long pink-haired woman.
"Where... ugh!"
"Don't push yourself. The drug's potent. Rest is priority."
No dice again.
Unlike before, attempting hypnosis shot pain through my veins—wouldn't activate.
'What the hell...!?'
She helped me sit up; surroundings sharpened.
Vast, luxurious hotel-like room.
Me, adrift on a curtained king bed in the center.
"Hello? Sorry for the rude invite. I don't usually, but I couldn't wait to meet you."
"...Who are you?"
"Oh, right—introductions."
Goth loli vibe?
Pink-haired woman in frilly black dress curtsied gracefully, skirt in hand.
"I'm So Hee-ji, president of Heeji Trading Company, and..."
Hearing that, my blood ran cold.
Kidnapper revealing identity means two things.
"Your fan! This photo—you, right?"
One: power so vast, no punishment for anything.
"God, I wanted to meet you so bad, but info on you? Zilch. Just these cosplay pics and a cult video cameo. Took forever to track. Video saved it—reverse-engineered from there. Brutal."
Or two: no plans to let me leave alive.
"Um, what's your name?"
More terrifying than that, though.
Worse than pounding headache and full-body mystery pain.
"I know, but I want to hear it from you."
Eyes brimming with affection and love.
"Yes? Tell me! Quick!"
But looking at me like an object, not a person.
"I'd hate to get rough with you right away."