Chapter 15. Resolve (3)

It was literally, "So what?"

Han Se-ra was insanely beautiful, she was returning to Korea next month—none of this was information I wanted to hear, yet Lee Sea was spilling it all out in that annoyingly detailed way. What the hell was her deal?

In truth, Lee Sea's intentions seemed crystal clear, so Jin Yu-ri bit her lip hard, swallowing the rising anger without realizing it.

'She doesn't even need to step in herself?'

'As Lee Dojin's sister, she absolutely won't allow it.' Was she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠too proud to say it outright? Did she think mentioning the fiancée on the verge of a broken engagement ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was enough to settle it?

Then a sudden thought struck her.

'Come to think of it... she's getting dumped.'

There were rumors, and Jin Yu-ri had picked up the info herself while digging into Lee Dojin. The breakup was basically a done deal. Sure, their engagement had dragged on, but they weren't even really lovers. On top of that, Eternal Guild's Han Tae-gang despised Lee Dojin—word had spread far and wide.

Lee Dojin's recent achievements were undeniable, of course. But unless both parties showed clear intent, and nothing extreme shifted the situation, it would end in a breakup.

And then the imagination—or delusion—followed.

'If Professor breaks off the engagement...'

He'd be free. Free to date whoever he wanted, or no one at all—it'd be entirely up to him. So, for example... something like that could happen.

'Mom and Dad keep asking when I'll bring a boyfriend home.'

Jin Yu-ri had always brushed it off with "I'm not interested." And she wasn't. Her parents never pushed further; they'd always said they wanted her to find someone she loved, not some strategic marriage for the company's growth.

But...

'...It'd be nice if it was both.'

For instance, if the promising magic scholar Lee Dojin got engaged to the only daughter of Korea's top conglomerate, Daemyeong Group? It'd help his research even more. Daemyeong Group could grow based on his work too.

Of course, that assumed both Lee Dojin and Jin Yu-ri wanted it. If they did, it'd be a total win-win.

Her parents would be thrilled their daughter found love. The couple would be happy, Daemyeong would expand, and Lee Dojin's magic research could achieve even greater breakthroughs—for Korea... no, the whole world.

To her, there was nothing bad about it. Except for one person: the prospective sister-in-law lying on the bed over there, scrolling on her phone.

'If only you would just shut up and stay out of it...'

Suddenly heated, Jin Yu-ri glared at Lee Sea. She whipped her head away before it could be noticed—even a second would be too long.

Then she took a deep breath and plotted her next move.

'Right, no need to make her an enemy.'

They'd been at odds for years, sure. But lately, things had thawed a bit, and they trained together under Charlotte Tate. Antagonizing her would only hurt Jin Yu-ri herself. Better to build a solid alliance from now on—way more productive.

"Ahem, heh."

The cough came out weirdly tense. Lee Sea glanced over, staring.

Jin Yu-ri forced the warmest smile she could muster and approached.

"Sea-ya, whatcha looking at?"

Five years knowing her, and this was the first time she'd dropped the family name and called her "Sea." It felt awkward as hell, but she hid it, taking another step...

"...Don't come closer."

Lee Sea's low refusal.

But Jin Yu-ri pressed on, closing the gap again. "Why? If it's something fun, lemme see too. Just us in the room—it's boring."

"...I warned you. This is for your own good—stay back."

"Huh? What is it?"

That only made her more curious. Beyond playing nice, she just wondered what could make Lee Sea act like this.

'Professor's pics?'

Jin Yu-ri's mind narrowed to her own tunnel vision. A warning "for my sake," after that whole "don't eye my brother" vibe earlier—it had to be something clashing with her image of Lee Dojin.

'Even better.'

Any side of him was still him. She wanted to know the relaxed, off-duty version too.

So Jin Yu-ri sidled right up to the bed's edge. "C'mon, I'm curious—can I see?" Her voice dripped with uncharacteristic friendliness as she leaned toward Lee Sea's phone.

And right then.

"Ah..."

She let out a tiny sound, speechless.

Lee Sea murmured softly. "Told you not to look."

"Ah..."

'That's what she meant.' Jin Yu-ri realized Lee Sea had been looking out for her.

The phone screen showed a woman in her early twenties. Jin Yu-ri couldn't find words for her appearance. The world's most beautiful? Even that fell short. She'd never seen anyone close.

Comparing her to others was pointless. Beautiful, stunning, alluring, blinding, radiant—none captured it. If there were words a hundred, a thousand times stronger, she'd use them... but her vocabulary failed.

Flawless features, the curve of her body and skin in a party dress, perfectly balanced styling. Utterly perfect. It was hard to believe such a person existed.

Context from the conversation—and prior hints—told Jin Yu-ri exactly who it was, no questions needed.

And then Lee Sea kindly confirmed it.

"I took this of Se-ra unnie before she went abroad. I don't usually take pics, but she was so pretty..."

"Y-yeah...?"

Totally understandable. If that beauty was your friend, you'd want photos.

But straight-up awe felt too pathetic, so Jin Yu-ri muttered a pointless jab. "Nice shot."

"It's a bad one."

"Th-this, how'd you edit it? Looks pro—"

"No edits, no apps, no filters."

'Don't lie!' Jin Yu-ri wanted to snap. She couldn't accept it as real—or worse, underrated by Lee Sea. It didn't make sense.

Plastic surgery flashed in her mind, but she dismissed it. No way that look was artificial.

Just... insanely beautiful.

Shoulders slumping, Jin Yu-ri mumbled gloomily. "She's... so pretty..."

Lee Sea stayed silent—final mercy?—and Jin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yu-ri shuffled to her own bed, collapsing.

Grabbing her phone from the nightstand, she saw her dim reflection in the dark screen.

She'd always thought she outshone every other girl at Jeil High—except Lee Sea. That hadn't changed...

But today, she didn't want to look in the mirror.

'In a few years, I'll...'

But a negative whisper countered: A few years? And then what? You'll be that pretty?

'...Maybe.'

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

She decided to believe it. Possibility didn't matter—giving up preemptively sucked.

Then she felt Lee Sea's gaze from across the room. Not an illusion; she even looked a tad apologetic. Jin Yu-ri grumbled inwardly.

'Lee Sea, Han Se-ra. Hate everyone with "Se" in their name...'

Sudden realization: Her idol, Archmage Jeong Se-bin, had "Se" too.

Startled, Jin Yu-ri backpedaled mentally. 'Cancel that...'

May 7th, Friday, around 6 PM.

"Math trip ends when you get home, so be careful heading back."

"Yes, sir!"

Students arriving at Jeil High dispersed after the homeroom teacher's warning. Yoo Hae-bin chirped brightly at Lee Dojin.

"See you Monday, Professor! Bye, Lee Sea. Yu-ri Mental, you... uh, you..."

"...Don't pick a fight and just go."

"Yeah, okay. Catch ya next week!"

Waving wildly, Yoo Hae-bin dragged her suitcase off across the field.

'Yu-ri Mental really went full glass cannon today?'

She'd been fine last night, but since morning, her vibe was down. Odd, thought Yoo Hae-bin, then shrugged it off.

'She'll handle it.'

They weren't close enough for hand-holding, and Jin Yu-ri's grit was legit. She'd bounce back. Anyway, more pressing matters.

Click.

Home fast, Yoo Hae-bin unlocked her officetel. Air was chilly after days away; she cracked her suitcase.

'Sort the rest later—this first.'

Her right hand held one item: the jacket borrowed from Lee Dojin, laundered for return. Hung neatly on a rack, she eyed it, hesitating.

'...Is this really okay?'

Her plan: Fine if undiscovered, but she knew it was shady.

Staring, last night's memories surged—blowing away doubt.

'Good trash...'

How could she not get it? Phantom's boss. The bite in her words: Don't mess with her. Then apologizing for being cold? Nonsense.

Recalling it pissed her off anew. Decision made.

'Not my fault.'

She knew where he bought it—design, fit, all memorized. With eager hands, she pulled clothes from her closet.

Miniskirt baring thighs. Loose blouse. All women's wear.

She stripped fully. Donned neatly stored bra and panties, then the outfit. Mask on, flawless long wig.

Full-length mirror: Healthy, curvaceous high school girl vibe everywhere. Cap to hide eyes, cute sandals—perfect.

No one would recognize her.

Strutting out, humming, she hailed a cab. Thirty minutes later, near destination, she scanned the bustling shops.

One in particular.

"Welcome!"

"Where are the men's spring outers?"

"Left corner, urban section. Gift for your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, buying him one."

Brazen reply to the clerk's friendly probe. She headed left as directed.

'Whoa... so many cute ones?'

Beyond her target, tempting pieces—ones that'd suit the borrower perfectly. (Rag on him would look good anyway.) But...

'Nah, don't overdo it.'

Save for later. Rash moves could raise flags—no fixing that.

Make him think it's his jacket returned. Anything more was greed now.

'There it is.'

Spotting it, she called the clerk. "Got a bigger size? New, not display."

"Sure, one sec."

Clerk fetched it. To the register.

"This one."

"170,900 won. How'll you pay?"

"Cash. Receipt's fine."

Minimize traces. Big spend, but whatever.

Paid, out, home. Hour total; clock neared 7:30 PM.

'Dojin probably meeting boss?'

He'd said so upon returning to Seoul. Their secret talk—she couldn't join yet.

Late night together, he'd said.

'Hmph... whatever.'

It irked her, but she was satisfied otherwise.

They were at the finish line; she gave him slack with his busy schedule...

'Not me.'

Underdogs don't care. Just give your all.

Whether she'd keep that lofty poise later—exciting to imagine. She stripped, showered twenty minutes.

Toweling hair, to the living room. Rack eyed: Borrowed jacket. And identical new one, side by side.

'I'm such a perv...'

Self-loathing hit, ignored. If guilt stopped her, she wouldn't start.

Right: Borrowed jacket. Left: New, magic-cleaned.

Comparing: 'Dojin's worn clean—no visible diff?'

Probably barely worn. Visually identical.

But the difference...

'This needs fixing.'

His faint body scent lingered. New one's fresh fabric smell, zero wear—problem.

Solution: Simple.

'I'll wear it around the house.'

Day and a half to Monday. Eat, sleep, live in it—wear'll settle naturally.

Genius.

'Starting now.'

Snipped tag. Slipped it on. Wear plus her scent would blend.

Two days, good as new-worn. Laundry later? Depends.

'Ugh, total perv...'

Stronger guilt. Can't blame Dojin now—he's innocent; she's deliberate.

Not just about the jacket. Probably: Meeting boss, briefing plans.

No issue there, but imagining them sipping cognac like shadowy overlords? Infuriating.

So, zipper up, she muttered alone.

"I'm in the wrong too... but you're not innocent."

Good trash and sweet final boss—blaming both.

Home, unpacked roughly, I told Sea.

"Heading out for a promise. Might be late."

"...Where?"

"Meeting a friend."

"..."

Sea said nothing. Looked like she wanted to, but held back. Then curtly:

"If later than first subway, call ahead."

"...What's that cutoff?"

Planned early return, but curious. She replied primly.

"Past that's overnight."

"Ah..."

Made sense. I chuckled. "Won't be that late. Two or three?"

"...Still late."

"Yeah. Be back ASAP."

"Got it."

She's agreeable today. Not irritation-free, but calmer than usual. Like giving a pass.

Even saw me to the door.

"...Go safe."

"Yeah. Grab anything on the way?"

"Whatever."

Then to her room. Used to pretend-reluctant but devour gifts—changed there too.

Out, meeting Seo Yeon-hee, I mentioned: "Our Sea's different lately."

She laughed. "Realized how precious oppa is in Gyeongju?"

"She worried when I vanished... feels bad on my end."

Made her fret needlessly for relic info.

Seo Yeon-hee's eyes sparkled. "Right, what happened? Spill details."

"First, the priority update."

"Wait there"—I refilled her glass. She mine. Silence in our private space.

Ten seconds. Downed the harsh, neat liquor.

"Traitor, Europe side. Got it."

"Who?"

Simple. I answered quietly.

"Arnaud Duré."