Thrilled by Madness (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 6

The morning sunlight pouring into the house was blindingly bright.

So Yeon placed a plate of green grapes on the living room table and sat down on the sofa, rereading the text messages she had just exchanged with In Ha.

[Guess I drank too much yesterday. I made a mistake. Sorry.] [I’ll accept your apology, sunbae.] [Are you Eom So Yeon my guardian angel or something? That friend I kicked—she’s a girl but ridiculously strong.] [Oh, I’m the one who should apologize for that. Are you okay? Anywhere still hurting?] [Well, it’s bearable enough. Don’t worry about it. I deserved it anyway.] [I’ll see you again with a smile, sunbae.] [I was worried you might never want to see me again—thank you.]

What he’d done yesterday was absolutely no small matter.

In fact, she’d seriously considered cutting ties with Jo In Ha over it. Yet in the end, So Yeon couldn’t bring herself to completely reject his apology, largely because she had to face the reality that they’d inevitably cross paths again in the tight-knit entertainment industry.

And there was one more reason—the lingering guilt over having inflicted such pain on Jo In Ha that she’d left him barely able to walk for a while.

Still, she hadn’t accepted In Ha’s apology lightly. So Yeon had woken early that morning and checked his message on her way to the bathroom. She’d waited a couple of hours before finally replying, meaning she’d spent that entire time wrestling with her thoughts.

Meanwhile, the very person whose furious kick had nearly sent Jo In Ha into permanent infertility was still blissfully asleep, comfortably occupying the master bedroom of someone else’s home.

As someone once put it, Yeo Do Sun was So Yeon’s longtime friend—just as devoted as a guardian angel.

Back in high school, when So Yeon first revealed her dream of becoming an actress, Do Sun—having no particular dreams of her own—had immediately declared, “That’s perfect! No one else gets to be Eom So Yeon’s manager but me,” even sealing the promise with a pinky swear.

Yeo Do Sun had honored that promise ever since. She was So Yeon’s one and only best friend, having attended the same elementary, middle, and high schools—and even the same university, despite majoring in different subjects.

Recalling her friend’s fierce scolding of Jo In Ha the day before, So Yeon couldn’t help but burst out laughing, even as she popped grape after grape into her mouth.

She was nearly finished with one whole bunch when Do Sun emerged from the master bathroom, completely bare-skinned and utterly unbothered. Her outgoing personality matched her refreshingly candid disposition, and her tall, slender figure resembled that of a model.

“Ugh, hey! You could’ve at least wrapped yourself in a towel!”

Even between two women, and even with Do Sun clearly confident in her figure, strutting around fully naked was just excessive visual assault.

But despite So Yeon’s horrified exclamation, Do Sun just giggled to herself, amused by something only she found funny.

“It’s just us—what’s the big deal? The weather’s so nice; I was thinking of sunbathing a bit.”

“Put something on. I don’t want my eyes to get traumatized.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll wear something, okay?”

As Do Sun returned to the bedroom to get dressed, So Yeon finished off her grapes and reached for another bunch, munching happily.

“Where’d the grapes come from?”

Do Sun flopped onto the sofa beside her, eyeing So Yeon with a groggy gaze.

“They’re sweet and tart—super delicious. Totally revived my appetite.”

“That’s exactly my point.”

Ever since childhood, Eom So Yeon had always notoriously disliked fresh fruit.

Moreover, Do Sun knew all too well her friend’s biased eating habits: preferring bread over rice cakes and obsessing over meat rather than vegetables. So seeing So Yeon now devouring grapes—something she’d never so much as glanced at before—was clearly not normal behavior.

“That’s why it seems like there’s something up.”

“P-people’s tastes can change, you know.”

“So Yeon… you…”

“What about me?”

When Do Sun trailed off at the end of her sentence, So Yeon quickly chewed and swallowed her grape, showing clear impatience. If you’ve got something to hide, just stay quiet—don’t act even more suspicious!

“You… could it be…”

“Could it be what?”

“You’re not usually like this—suddenly all sensitive and moody. Did something serious happen that I don’t know about?”

“N-no!”

“What do you mean ‘no’? You’ve been unusually tense lately, your eating habits are all off, and now you’re eating things you never used to. Honestly, you’re acting really strange.”

Under Do Sun’s persistent, suspicious gaze, So Yeon’s large eyes trembled slightly.

She’d missed her period last month, and despite visiting the hospital last week, there’d been no news since—her face had visibly thinned out over just a few days.

Yesterday, Do Sun, who’d happened to be near So Yeon’s campus, had gone to their usual pork belly restaurant out of concern for her suddenly gaunt friend—only to narrowly miss her. So she’d rushed straight to the empty lot So Yeon frequented.

After all, this was the same friend who’d saved her from danger and to whom she owed so much—of course she wanted to confide in her. But So Yeon had her reasons for staying silent.

“Ugh, everything’s suddenly ‘strange.’ I’ve just had the flu for a while—that’s all.”

“What about the grapes?”

“W-well, nothing beats grapes for vitamins when you’ve got a cold!”

“You’re laughing way too hard—and why are you stuttering?”

So Yeon panicked under Do Sun’s relentless probing. She forced a laugh to play it off, but her words came out jumbled and frantic—and her tongue was clearly tripping over itself. If this conversation kept going, she’d surely give herself away.

“I bit my tongue while eating grapes—okay?!”

Snapping irritably, So Yeon abruptly stood from the sofa and hurried to the kitchen, plate in hand, as if fleeing.

Not long after, she returned to the living room and plopped herself right next to Do Sun, who was half-lounging on the sofa, and asked,

“Do Soon-ah… Do you know anyone in your fan club who might have Tae Seo Jun’s home address or phone number?”

“Hmm, maybe. Why do you ask?”

“He’s a junior in our department—apparently drew a portrait of Tae Seo Jun as a hobby.”

“Oh, a gift? Just send it to his agency. That’s what we usually do. Or… do you want to give it to him in person?”

“……”

Though she’d hastily fabricated a plausible excuse, her heart was pounding wildly. So Yeon nodded and stared fixedly at the ceiling for no reason.

“Hang on—I’ll check the group chat. I don’t know, but maybe another member does…!”

Do Sun, fumbling with her phone screen, suddenly cut herself off mid-sentence, jerking upright as if startled awake. Her eyes welled with tears, her expression shocked, as she stared blankly at the rapidly updating messages on her phone.

“What’s wrong? Why are you suddenly crying?”

“It’s just…”

Sensing something ominous, So Yeon snatched the phone from Do Sun’s hand and fixed her eyes on the screen. In the fan club’s group chat, frantic messages were streaming in one after another—as if the world were ending.

“……!”

So Yeon’s pupils dilated violently, as if struck by an earthquake, the moment she read the news: Tae Seo Jun had quietly enlisted today and would serve the next three years as a military medical officer.

“Why did our oppa have to enlist like this?! Was this something to handle so quietly?! Huhuhu…!”

Pouting her lips, Do Sun burst into tears.

“……”

So Yeon’s face went blank, her expression frozen and all color drained. Her heart plummeted, her mind went utterly blank—her only option was to force her stiff legs to move toward the bathroom.

Click.

Leaning against the locked bathroom door, her rigid body slowly crumpled to the floor. Curled tightly on the cold tile, big tears rolled steadily down So Yeon’s cheeks.

Unlike Do Sun, she couldn’t even cry out loud—she stifled her sobs, wiping her tears with her sleeve. But her sorrow, once unleashed, soaked both arms thoroughly and refused to stop.

He’s gone now. I have to bear everything alone. But I… I still don’t know—what to do first, or how to even begin…

I just wanted to see Tae Seo Jun one more time. No—I absolutely had to. But my lack of courage kept pushing it off, until this became the end.

That I must quietly forget him after all.

That was all there was.

With even the faintest hope now severed, So Yeon was utterly powerless. She could barely breathe. Her body, hardened like stone, couldn’t rise again.

It felt as if a blade had slashed through her chest and both legs.

She could do nothing.

[This is the timeline separator]

Three years later.

On the first day of the new year, a man stood alone atop the highest point of a rocky hill, gazing silently at the dark and desolate foreign land below, the moonlight at his back.

Even in moments of physical closeness with others, he’d always been alone.

He’d grown more accustomed to wearing masks than showing his true face.

With nothing he desperately wished for, everything he did felt dry and meaningless.

As if he held no attachment whatsoever to that trivial life and this far-from-perfect world, he’d left Korea behind.

There’d been no hesitation between the choices of regular soldier or military doctor—he’d abandoned hospitals only because he disliked environments overrun by rigid traditionalists, not because he’d lost his passion for healing. And now, with discharge just around the corner, a faint sense of reluctance suggested he might actually be suited for military life.

Two years as a military doctor at Riyadh’s central headquarters, followed by one year commanding the medical unit at an outpost within a two-hour radius—three years had slipped by in the blink of an eye, and tomorrow, he’d finally return to his homeland.

The wind blew.

Unfazed by the gritty sand scraping against his skin, the man’s face remained as exquisitely refined as ever. Though his pace toward the base of the hill stayed deliberately slow, his long legs carried him swiftly.

It was just as he passed through the chain-link fence and entered the building of red brick that—

“Captain Tae!”

A soldier came panting from behind, urgently calling out to his superior.

“……”

He stopped and turned around.

As Seo Jun wordlessly raised his thick eyebrows, the soldier immediately began his report without missing a beat.

“The special forces team deployed to Selar returned thirty minutes ago—at 23:00.”

Selar was a hidden desert city on the northeastern Persian Gulf coast of Saudi Arabia, serving as the secluded stronghold of the Tamayon Islamist militant group.

Starting tomorrow, the Saudi government and Tamayon militants would engage in bilateral negotiations for three days. Their unilateral decision to strictly prohibit any third-party interference left foreign nationals—including civilians—completely unprotected.

Thus, even if the negotiations concluded peacefully, these hostages—deemed useless—would be treated as a separate issue. In the worst case, they could be quietly eliminated without a trace.

Faced with such extreme circumstances, both U.S. and South Korean forces had no room for hesitation and no time to spare.

Therefore, earlier today at 18:00, the U.S.-ROK joint special forces had infiltrated the area, executed a covert operation, rescued the hostages held by Tamayon, completed their mission, and only just returned to their respective bases.

Delivering this welcome news, the soldier also informed Seo Jun of a troubling detail: one of the rescued young civilians was refusing treatment.

“We risked our lives to save him, and now this guy’s acting like he wants to die?”

“Besides firmly stating he won’t accept treatment, he refuses to say anything else. Given the gunshot wound penetrating near his heart has gone untreated for so long, his condition is critical. You should probably see him yourself, Captain.”

“Who is this guy?”

“His name is Han Seung Yul. He’s from a wealthy family, was on an elite track in New York, and was kidnapped the moment he set foot in the Middle East for business.”

“I see.”

Tae Seo Jun, for whom command and obedience were second nature, looked flawless even in his military uniform and beret.

“Let’s go now.”

His sharp glance, signaling the soldier to follow, radiated the crisp discipline of a true soldier.