A Bad, Bad Act (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 9

Yeo Eun bought four bottles of beer at the convenience store and trudged up the stairs to her villa.

She had moved into this nearly 40-year-old villa two summers ago.

After being evicted from the apartment in Nonhyeon-dong where she’d lived for about ten years, she relocated to a row house in Bangbae-dong.

While living there, her mother fell ill, and eventually she had to withdraw the security deposit to cover her mother’s medical expenses.

That’s how she ended up moving here.

Despite being in central Seoul, this place was cheap for good reason.

The building looked worn-out, as if it had reached the end of its lifespan; the centralized boiler frequently broke down, and with no security or cleaning services, the place sometimes felt like lawless territory.

She’d moved in during autumn and had brushed it off then, but after enduring that winter, she finally called the landlord.

The house was unbearably cold, and once night fell, it even felt frightening.

She had intended to terminate the lease and move somewhere else if possible.

But she couldn’t.

[That’s exactly why I’m offering it so cheaply. Do you really think you can find this kind of deposit and monthly rent anywhere else in Seoul?]

It wasn’t wrong at all.

For her and her older brother, who had to split every 24-hour day into shifts just to work, having a place within Seoul was essential—and this was the only home they could afford with the money they had.

Having survived her first winter here, Yeo Eun now found winter to be the most terrifying season.

“Winter will be here again in just a few months.”

She was about to face her third winter.

Just the thought made her shoulders hunch inward.

Reaching her apartment door, Yeo Eun rummaged through her bag for her keys.

After stepping inside, she gazed dully at the mail piled on the kitchen table.

Electricity bill, gas bill, water bill.

Mixed among the various bills was also a statement from the hospital.

Even though she earned a decent monthly income, her life felt pitiful—like that of someone living in extreme poverty, constantly worrying about even the most basic necessities.

Yeo Eun set her bag down on top of the mail and cracked open a can of beer.

A call from her landlord a few days ago had left a thorn in her throat, and she felt she needed at least some beer to swallow it down.

“Even for a place like this, they want to raise the rent?”

Yeo Eun’s expression turned melancholy as she looked around her tiny two-room home.

“That’s why I’m clinging to Cha Do Ha.”

If only she could get hold of Cha Do Ha—if only he’d take her in—

then not only these wretched bills but also her mother, her home, her debts… everything would be resolved.

Yes. Just Cha Do Ha alone would solve it all.

“But why is that one thing so hard?”

It’s just one day, yet facing that man over a single meal felt overwhelmingly difficult.

Whenever she saw his face, her breath grew short; when she lowered her gaze, her chest tightened.

His tone of voice, his eyes, every little action of his—

everything got under her skin, and she kept obsessing over what he might think of her.

He’d told her to keep a clear boundary, yet she hated herself for pretending not to see it and deliberately blurring that line.

Finishing her beer, Yeo Eun crushed the empty can in her hand.

Just then, her phone on the table buzzed.

It was Ji Soo.

Yeo Eun gave a faint smile and instead of replying with words, sent Ji Soo a photo of her beer can.

An immediate reply came back.

Attached to the message was a small map pointing to a whiskey bar in Hannam-dong.

She knew a can or two of beer wouldn’t be enough to quench this thirst anyway.

Without hesitation, Yeo Eun stood up to go meet Ji Soo.

* * *

Ji Soo was not only her senior from school and workplace superior but also a great drinking companion.

Meeting Ji Soo, Yeo Eun poured herself a shot of hard liquor and began unburdening her heavy heart.

Knowing Yeo Eun had been overwhelmed lately, Ji Soo listened calmly to her story.

“You know already, right? My mom’s surgery fees, hospital bills, treatment costs, even nursing care expenses…”

On top of her monthly loan interest and living costs, the total amount was truly staggering.

“It’s an astronomical sum.”

And recently, her older brother In Tae had lost his job, leaving her to shoulder everything alone.

Ji Soo could only look at her with deep sympathy.

“How can someone’s fate be this rough?”

Blaming it all on fate, Ji Soo refilled her empty glass.

“Maybe it’s because you’re too beautiful—beauty brings trouble.”

She meant it.

In her 31 years, Yeo Eun was the most beautiful woman Ji Soo had ever seen.

And beautiful women always seemed to attract misfortune.

After all, the saying “beauty brings early demise” didn’t exist for no reason.

For that very reason, Yeo Eun had always reacted extremely sensitively to being called beautiful.

Even the phrase “pretty face curse” had originated from her.

But today, her response was oddly different.

Lifting her drink, she offered only a faint smile and a bitter remark.

“He said I’m not that pretty.”

“Who? Who said something so ridiculous?”

How dare anyone say that to the great Seo Yeo Eun?

Ji Soo nearly jumped out of her seat in disbelief.

Watching Ji Soo’s reaction, Yeo Eun gave a wry smile and spoke a familiar name.

“Cha Do Ha.”

Cha Do Ha—the name that had been sticking to Yeo Eun’s lips most often these days.

“Seriously, Cha Do Ha!”

Ji Soo’s voice suddenly rose.

Feeling the surrounding eyes turn toward them, Yeo Eun quickly spoke again before things escalated.

“It’s not that I’m hurt. It’s only natural.”

After all, that man’s girlfriend is Kim Hae Ri.

Yeo Eun took a small sip of her drink with a resigned smile.

Ji Soo frowned disapprovingly at her and pouted.

“What are you talking about? No matter how I look at it, you’re way prettier than Kim Hae Ri!”

Seriously, Cha Do Ha—does he really have no taste in people?

Ji Soo gently stroked Yeo Eun’s hair.

Yeo Eun, like an unguarded child, leaned into her touch and smiled brightly.

“But it actually wasn’t so bad.”

She meant it.

“The pretty face curse.”

That beautiful face of hers had dragged half her life into misery.

Even her grandmother once blamed her beauty for “devouring” her father.

Her grandmother, who never contacted her otherwise, had shown up at her father’s funeral only to slap her across the cheek.

[This is all your fault. I always knew that pretty face of yours would bring great misfortune someday.]

What followed was even worse.

[Everything should be in moderation. Being too eye-catching invites evil spirits. Ever since you were little, you’ve drawn every kind of bad energy with that bewitching face—and in the end, you even devoured your own father! Oh, my poor Ui Tak… my son.]

Her cheek stung, her heart ached—but she couldn’t say a word.

[Being beautiful but utterly useless only makes you exude poison and attract bad energy.]

Because from a very young age, her grandmother’s tyranny whenever she saw her had already become routine.

If even her own family treated her this way, how could strangers be any different?

During school, she’d often faced cruel treatment from peers simply because she was pretty.

[It’s so unfair. Relying on your looks to get bonus points? Disgusting.]

No matter how hard she tried, her efforts were often dismissed as mere results of her looks—even when her nose bled from exhaustion.

Thus, for her, a beautiful face had always been a curse.

Cha Do Ha was the first person ever to tell her plainly that she wasn’t particularly pretty.

“That’s why I feel like I finally broke free.”

It felt as if the chains that had bound her for so long were melting away, becoming soft and loose.

“Because he told me I wasn’t pretty, my heart actually feels lighter.”

So, she was even partly happy.

“Like, ‘Ah, this project might actually work out.’”

Despite the risks involved, it had become more than enough reason not to let go.

“Maybe my old curse is trying to teach me something?”

Her pride screamed at her that she shouldn’t stoop to such a thing.

She scolded herself for being shaken by Cha Hyun’s threats.

Yet her circumstances and that very curse kept pushing her forward, insisting she must do this.

“Grab hold of Cha Do Ha.”

Because only by catching Cha Do Ha could she survive.

“So right now, this is how I truly feel.”

Yeo Eun downed the rest of her drink in one gulp and continued.

“If Cha Do Ha would just accept me… I’d be willing to kowtow to him.”

She must have had too much to drink.

“It’s embarrassing for my pride, but that’s honestly how I feel.”

Even speaking felt a little heavy.

“If I can just make this project succeed—if I can just save my mom’s life…”

The words she’d been holding back painfully tore through her throat—clear proof she was drunk.

“This time, I really will quit Persona.”

Setting down her glass, Yeo Eun grabbed Ji Soo’s arm.

“I’ll quit and go back to studying. I’ll get into university… and finally do what I’ve always wanted to do.”

Then she rested her forehead on Ji Soo’s shoulder.

“I want to live my own life. Seriously.”

Her eyes began to sting with warmth.

* * *

“Who said something like that?”

“Cha Do Ha.”

Kwon Yi Han, a director at LI Construction, who had been drinking, perked up his ears and paid close attention.

“This is about you?”

Yes, it was about him.

She was probably sitting right behind the chair he was leaning against.

That woman with sad eyes—Seo Yeo Eun.

“Drop it. Just finish the story you were telling.”

When Lee Han, seated across from him, stretched his neck as if trying to peek over the chair back, Do Ha quickly changed the subject.

“So Druid Nine accepted our proposal, right?”

“Yeah. One hundred percent acceptance. We won.”

Finally tearing his attention away from what was happening behind him, Lee Han resumed his investment report on Genes Holdings.

“Per your instructions, I asked Druid Nine to consider splitting off the company, remember? Apparently, that idea really intrigued them—their CEO mentioned something like, ‘Ah, so it really is Genes Holdings after all…’”

While Lee Han diligently continued his report, Do Ha himself couldn’t focus on a word.

Ever since earlier.

Ever since Seo Yeo Eun had stepped into this place.

From the moment she sat down behind him, his ears had been tuned only to her.