Chapter 70 The School Bully Chae-young (2)
Chapter 70 The School Bully Chae-young (2)
Half a year after that.
I was living in a dying provincial town—one of those places slowly disappearing due to population decline—specifically in a rundown warehouse next to a factory on the outskirts.
Not even a proper house, just a repurposed shipping container where I stayed alone with my youngest mother.
Even that was only possible because my older sister Gaeul, who had graduated at the top of her class from a prestigious university and could have easily landed a job at a major corporation, had temporarily taken work there.
No landlord in this country would rent a room to the son of a pseudo-religious cult leader unless it was a place like this.
And so, I became a freeloader clinging to Gaeul noona's existence.
Not that I had ever wanted to live like this, dependent on my sister. And it wasn't for lack of effort, either.
I had desperately tried to build a normal life with Gaeul noona.
But the moment people found out I was the son of a cult leader, the floodgates opened—
Cyber stalkers and journalists who showed up at random,
victims who had suffered at the hands of my family,
fanatics like my second mother who still worshiped me as some kind of god—none of them allowed me the simple right to live an ordinary life.
Still, my life up to this point hadn't been entirely miserable.
Though I'd suffered through relentless, absurd harassment, I had my youngest mother by my side, which made it just barely bearable.
And not everyone I met after leaving my family behind was hostile toward me.
Rare as they were, there were people who showed me kindness.
Like the person calling out to me right now.
"Hey, Lee Eun-woo! The fuck are you doing? When I call you, you better come running, you little shit—"
Her voice carried the sharp tone of someone looking for a fight, but the warmth underneath was unmistakable.
I set down the tools I'd been holding.
Since no one would hire me, I wasn't officially an employee here, so I had no real obligation to do this work. But I did it anyway, if only to help my youngest mother however I could.
If I didn't at least do something, the guilt of leeching off her—a woman barely older than me, despite the title of "mother"—would have eaten me alive.
"Lee Eun-wooooooo!"
Not even waiting the few seconds it took me to put the tools away, she—Jeong Chae-young—called for me again.
I wiped the grease off my hands onto my work clothes and hurried toward the source of the voice.
We were close, but given her... unique personality, I still had to tread carefully.
Passing through the factory doors, I spotted her leaning against the wall with her legs crossed, a cigarette dangling from her lips.
The next thing that caught my eye were the piercings—so many crammed into her ears that it almost looked painful.
And her attitude? Unmistakably bratty.
No matter how you looked at her, she screamed school bully, and up until a year ago, that's exactly what she had been.
Chae-young herself never bothered hiding it. She'd once bragged to me about bullying some "nerdy bitch" like it was some grand achievement, only to get mad when I didn't react the way she wanted.
Still, even knowing her past—and as much as I felt for the girls she'd tormented—I didn't dislike her.
She treated me well, and, well... she was pretty. The quintessential bad-girl kind of pretty.
No guy hates a pretty girl.
Not even me, a guy living in a weird cohabitation situation with a stunningly beautiful woman like my youngest mother.
"What were you doing? Why'd you take so long? Did you forget our plans? Un-fucking-believable. You're the only guy who's ever made me wait."
She spat her cigarette onto the ground and unleashed a rapid-fire barrage of complaints.
"Sorry, sorry."
I apologized first, even though I wasn't entirely sure what I'd done wrong.
Six months living with my youngest mother had taught me how to handle a woman's unreasonable moods.
"Wait, what plans? There weren't any. You just showed up after clocking out and demanded we hang out."
Chae-young narrowed her eyes and puffed out her cheeks—her signature I'm pissed expression.
For someone with such a strong, intimidating face, she actually looked kind of cute when she sulked. I couldn't help but laugh.
And no matter how much of a "top dog" bully she might have been, compared to my terrifying fourth mother, she was nothing. I wasn't afraid of her in the slightest.
"What's wrong?"
Maybe she noticed my expression stiffen when I thought of my fourth mother, because her voice suddenly softened with concern.
Uncharacteristically for a bully, she looked like she was about to cry as she reached for my wrist.
I knew what that meant—but like always, with every other woman before her, I pretended not to notice.
I wiped the remaining grease off my hands onto my thighs and let my arms hang loose.
A brief silence settled between us.
A few seconds later, Chae-young—either oblivious or choosing to ignore my deflection—perked up again, forcing an exaggerated cheerfulness into her voice.
"So what, you're not gonna hang out with me? I left this shithole town after work just to come see you, you know. My thighs are killing me, you asshole."
I smirked at the sight of her shark-like teeth as she gritted them at me.
"Well, you did say you wanted to exercise more~"
"You little—"
She raised a fist, pretending to be mad, and I flinched exaggeratedly.
Same old WWE routine.
(Of course, only when my youngest mother wasn't around.)
Today was no different.
Head office employees rarely came by, so for all intents and purposes, the factory manager—who had taken my youngest mother and some others out for a work dinner—was the acting boss here. That meant right now, it was just Chae-young and me in the whole place.
The manager was a middle-aged man who made no secret of his interest in my youngest mother—her looks were way too good for a place like this. I'd thought about tagging along to the dinner, but I wasn't an employee, so I had no real excuse. And she had refused to let me come anyway.
She remembered what I'd done to men who thought they could take advantage of her vulnerable situation.
And she knew we had nowhere else to go, constantly hunted by the cult.
"What're you thinking about? You always zone out like that."
Her voice carried a hint of hurt as she caught me drifting off again while she was right in front of me.
I snapped back to reality and flashed her a smile.
She mirrored it instantly.
My first real friend since leaving the cult.
No—since all the people I'd been close to before were family, she was my first friend, period.
A twinge of guilt pricked at me as I realized I was still putting on my usual charming guy act even with her.
I turned toward the office.
"Ahem. So, did you set up the drinks?"
"You're unbelievable, you know that? This is the first time I've ever bought a guy alcohol with my own money."
"Well, what else am I supposed to do? I'm broke, and you're loaded."
"Ohhh, so you're just mooching off me?"
We bantered back and forth as we headed inside.
I could tell Chae-young would've preferred a proper bar downtown over the dingy office break room, but she had enough sense not to say it outright.
I opened the office door and stepped in.
Then I plopped down in Chae-young's chair and surveyed the desk.
As expected, there wasn't much to see.
Actually, nothing work-related at all.
Just makeup and half-eaten bags of snacks.
Not that it was surprising. Officially, Chae-young was registered as the factory's accountant, but in reality, she'd only been sent here by her father—the president of the company that outsourced work to this factory—as a last-ditch effort to "straighten her out."
No one actually expected her to work.
"You don't do shit here, yet you're always swiping your dad's credit card for designer crap."
I teased her, fully aware of the situation. That's what friends did.
Chae-young paused while pulling soju bottles from the mini-fridge and shot me a look.
A smug look.
"Says you. You're living off your sister's money too, dumbass."
Ever the bully, she didn't back down an inch, firing right back.
I should've laughed.
But the crushing inferiority complex and the constant stress of being hunted by the cult froze my expression instead.
For a second, I just stared blankly.
"Ah... uh... sorry."
"Nah, forget it."
I quickly stood up, trying to diffuse the awkwardness, and moved to help her set up the drinks.
In the process, my shoulder brushed against hers.
Ever since discovering my... unusual abilities, I'd been extremely careful about getting too close to women. But Chae-young was a friend. I figured it'd be fine.
I left her standing there—no, pressed against the wall like she was embarrassed or something (very un-bully-like of her)—and started unloading the fridge.
Nothing much inside except way too much alcohol for two people.
We sat on the floor and immediately started drinking.
Maybe the alcohol would wash away the awkwardness.
But the more we drank, the fuzzier my thoughts became—and the more I started seeing her not as a friend, but as a woman.
The awkwardness only grew.
What had been light, friendly conversation before turned into thirty minutes of near-silent drinking.
Chae-young was the first to break—or rather, the first to act.
Claiming the alcohol was making her hot, she peeled off her outer shirt.
"...Uh, wh-what're you doing?"
I stammered, unable to hide the hopeful anticipation in my voice.
Luckily—or maybe unluckily—she had another shirt underneath, so I didn't get a bra reveal.
But the tank top she wore was tight, clinging to her curves enough to show off her cleavage.
For someone already looking at his friend in that way, it was way too stimulating.
After six months of nothing but my own hand—since realizing the dangers of my powers and avoiding women—my libido was already through the roof.
And now, seeing my first-ever friend's cleavage, I was rock hard.
'Youngest mother won't be back for a while, right?'