Inkang pov:
The stage lights had dimmed, but the buzz around the three-act play, "I Love You, I Love You Not," was only growing louder. Ajin Baek, the star, sat composed for an interview, her red dress and bold lipstick a stark contrast to the casual interviewer. "You were a sensation," the interviewer remarked. "I heard it received raving reviews and a record high rating." Ajin smiled, basking in the glow of her success. "I didn't know this, but I was told that the rating we received is unusually high for plays... I'm so happy that the audience loved it as much as I did."
The conversation then veered from the theater to a provocative scene in the play. "If two men presented you with a pair of heels and a plushie at the same time like in the play... which gift would you choose?" the interviewer asked.
Ajin paused, considering the choice. "Oh, I'm not a huge fan of plushies, so... if I had to choose the gift without knowing who gave it to me... I think I'd choose the shoes..." The interviewer's eyes widened with playful recognition. "You chose the same thing as the character you played! If I remember correctly, the ending changed depending on the item you chose, right? Aren't you being too hasty with your choice, Ajin?"
Ajin's smile tightened ever so slightly before she replied, "Well, life isn't a drama, right?"
The Secret Unburdened
Later, in the quiet warmth of his grandmother's home, a young man with russet hair, presumably Ajin's partner, sat watching his grandmother knitting a scarf. He seemed pleased, a gentle smile gracing his features as his grandmother spoke.
"You're knitting her a scarf, and baby her more than me or Inmo," he teased, a playful jab that didn't hide his underlying affection for both women.
"Of course, I like her," his grandmother replied easily. "She's such a sweetheart." Her words were a balm. "But would you like it if we got married?" he asked, the real question hanging in the air, his tone hopeful.
"Yes, I'd be so happy if you did," she confirmed, never taking her eyes off the intricate stitches. Then, her voice grew serious, laced with the wisdom of her years. "You've got to marry someone who you can trust and rely on. Look at Ajin. She's so kind and thoughtful. You're perfect for each other."
He nodded, leaning back. "That's true. It's important to me that you approve of her. I'm so glad to hear that you like her so much." He felt a wash of relief and happiness.
But then, as his grandmother's words of love and trust echoed in his mind, something inside him broke. A single tear traced a wet path down his cheek, and his jaw tensed with restrained sorrow. "Grandma, you like Ajin that much, huh." His voice was barely a whisper. He blinked, the tears gathering, unable to hold back the emotion any longer. "Grandma..."
He buried his face in his hands, his body shaking with an unutterable despair that the loving conversation had brought to the surface.
"There's one thing you don't know..." he choked out, his voice raw. The painful secret escaped him in a desperate, whispered confession. "…and it's that everyone I trust and rely on always ends up leaving me." He gripped his head, utterly broken. "I can't do this anymore. I'm exhausted. I want to rest."
The approval, the hope for a reliable future with Ajin, had only served to remind him of a deeper, recurring trauma—the absolute certainty that even the greatest trust could be betrayed by abandonment. He was not just tired; he was utterly spent by the cycle of loving and losing.
The man sat huddled on a cardboard box in a desolate, forgotten corner of a room, his head bowed in a posture of utter defeat. The canned drinks on the floor beside him were untouched. His mind was a torrent of sorrow and resentment. "Isn't it weird... that I worked so hard for everyone in my life, but no one is here to comfort me now, in my darkest moment?" he thought bitterly. "Why do the people I love only ever hurt me?"
The memories of those who had left him were a cold ache. Water dripped audibly in the silence—DRIP DRIP DRIP—a monotonous echo of his despair. He sank onto the floor, clutching a worn plushie and the scarf his grandmother had been knitting. "I'm angry at my parents for leaving me behind..." he whispered to the empty space. Then, his voice softened, thick with grief for the most recent loss. "I miss you, Grandma. I can't go on like this. This winter has been so cold."
He held the scarf, its soft wool a painful reminder of her warmth. "Grandma, you're the only person who could give me the warmth I need... so why did you have to leave me behind too?" The question was an accusation born of desperate love.
The pain from his recent conversation with his grandmother, where he revealed his trust issues, intensified with a new, sharp betrayal. He thought of his recent heartbreak. "You were right to tell me that I have terrible taste in women." The memory of his grandmother's earlier advice stung. "I can't believe I thought I was going to marry someone who never even loved me. I feel like such a pathetic fool." The suffocating guilt and despair rose in his throat, making him gasp for air—CHOKE! "It's suffocating to think that this is all my fault."
A Final Farewell
Overwhelmed, a sense of grim inevitability settled over him. He stood up, his bare foot visible as he moved toward his final choice. "Because now, I have no choice but to... go where you are waiting for me to see you again..." he concluded, his voice fading into the silence.
His last thoughts were for his little brother, Inmo. He managed to pen a hasty, heart-wrenching note. "My dearest little brother, Inmo... I know that my career as a celebrity only ever negatively impacted you. I know you were always on pins and needles because of me. Inmo, I'm sorry..."
The words of his suicide note were a plea for understanding, a final act of protection. "Please forgive me for leaving you like this in fear that I'd be nothing but a burden to you, but I have faith that you're going to do great things. I love you. Take care of yourself."
The sound of his bare feet on the wooden floor produced a chilling SQUEAAAK, a lonely noise in the desolate room.
Sometime later, elsewhere, perhaps in the quiet of his own bedroom, Inmo lay in bed, staring blankly at his phone. The screen displayed the final, terrible messages—the pink and blue hues of the sky in the background mocking the darkness of the words. He read the final lines, his heart breaking over the text: "I love you. Take care of yourself." The silence around him was absolute, punctuated only by the weight of a loss he had no time to anticipate.
Authors pov
The somber atmosphere of B Funeral Home was palpable. A picture of the deceased, a young man with russet hair named Inkang Heo, sat framed by white chrysanthemums, a testament to a life cut tragically short.
Despite his strained relationships, many people came to pay their respects. Ms. Seo came, grief etched on her face. His ex-girlfriend came, tearfully mourning the loss. Even other members of Tenplanet who hadn't been on good terms with him showed up to his funeral. The turnout, though bittersweet, proved that Inkang had touched many lives.
But the most notable absence belonged to Ajin, the celebrity he had planned to marry. Inkang's younger brother, Inmo Heo, sat vigil, his expression a mixture of profound sorrow and quiet anger. "Ajin never came to the funeral," a voiceover lamented.
Inmo, a young man with a grim, hard look, later appeared on the news segment, "DIM HEART," under the title "INMO HEO, INKANG HEO'S BROTHER." His eyes burned with accusation. "She's the only person who didn't show up. How could she be so cruel?! Isn't it obvious she just used him?!"
Ajin's Excuse
Meanwhile, in her luxurious apartment, Ajin was on the phone. Her red lipstick was gone, her makeup minimal, but her posture was defensive. A concerned person on the other end, perhaps Ms. Seo, asked, "Are you really not coming?"
Ajin held her blanket close, her expression strained. "Yeah, if I show up, it'll become a media circus. It'd just be hurting Inmo too," she rationalized. "He wouldn't have wanted this kind of attention at his funeral either..." She clutched a paper, perhaps the funeral notice, as she continued. "I asked a friend to drop off condolatory money in my stead. He should be there now. I want to send him off quietly. This is the best I can do for him right now."
The person on the line, likely resigned to her decision, replied, "Okay, I understand. Let me know if you change your mind..."
Ajin's eyes were shadowed with complex emotion—was it grief, guilt, or simple self-preservation? She cut the call short. "I'm sorry, Ms. Seo. This is incredibly hard for me too. Let's talk about this another time." She disconnected and looked down at her hand, her thumb hovering over the screen. "How could he think of killing himself so easily...?"
The chapter concluded with a chilling accusation, placing the blame for his death squarely on her shoulders: "She has never killed, but she has the blood of... two people (SEONGYU BAEK AND INKANG HEO) on her hands."
Alone in her bedroom, Ajin received a call from a "PRIVATE NUMBER." She looked at the screen, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. "...?" she answered. The caller identified himself as Mr. Do.
"Hello...? I'm glad you picked up. My name is Mr. Do. You know Jaeo, right?" Mr. Do asked.
Ajin paused, surprised. "Jaeo...? Yes, I do."
Mr. Do explained the reason for the call: "He asked me to look into something before he left for Hong Kong. I was told to call you as soon as we found Jiho Kang."
Ajin's eyes widened slightly. "This was your request, right? Oh, wait! Are you Broomstick?" she asked, referring to a possible alias.
"It was, but... Broomstick...?" Mr. Do seemed confused by the nickname. He quickly steered the conversation back to the matter at hand. "Well, we got real lucky. We thought it would take some time since Jiho Kang was overseas... but he returned to Korea a few days ago. That's how we found him so quickly."
Ajin's gaze was sharp, an intense focus replacing her earlier detachment. "Does that mean you know where he is right now...?" she pressed.
"Yeah. Did you want us to tell you where he is or set up a meeting with him for you?" Mr. Do offered. The subject of the search, Jiho Kang, remained a mystery, but the urgency in Ajin's eyes suggested this was a priority that eclipsed even the tragedy of Inkang's death.
The Show Must Go On
Ajin lay back in bed, the phone call momentarily distracting her from the news of Inkang's death. She shook her head, a chilling lack of empathy in her thoughts. "If I were him, I'd have done anything to survive and..." she trailed off, her self-centered survival instinct in stark contrast to Inkang's despair. "I guess it's all pointless now."
In the meantime, the world moved on, and so did Ajin's career. A news headline flashed across the screen: "Fans Are Worried for Ajin Baek as She Moves Forward With Schedule After Inkang Heo's Passing."
At B Funeral Home, a man in a black car, perhaps the friend Ajin sent with the condolatory money or someone else, was weeping openly, his head bowed over the steering wheel. He dabbed his eyes, overcome with emotion after Inkang did... He was a visible example of the sorrow Ajin herself had refused to show.
The narrative voice commented on the public reaction: "The crowd pitied her, but pity or not, it was still attention... a lot of people were curious what kind of face Ajin would make in front of a camera." Her absence from the funeral, while arguably a way to avoid a "media circus," also ensured she maintained control over her image and spared the public from witnessing any true, unscripted emotion. The world was watching, curious about the celebrity who had, as the previous panels suggested, the "blood" of two men on her hands.
The mystery of Jiho Kang and the investigation requested by Jaeo seemed to be the new, driving force in Ajin's life, showing that the death of her fiancé was merely a difficult hurdle to step over on her path.
Following Inkang Heo's death, Ajin Baek's career soared, fueled by public attention, pity, and the controversy surrounding her actions. The crowd's focus on her, whether in sympathy or judgment, cemented her as "the talk of the country."
The play that first brought her fame, "I Love You, I Love You Not," received the Best Play Award at the Beyond TV Awards. Her cinematic career exploded, too. Headlines celebrated her transformation: "Ajin Baek Gives Performance of a Lifetime in 'The Kind Blood' and Becomes the Cinderella of the Korean Movie Scene!"
Another headline noted, "Ajin Baek, Mum over Journalist's Invasive Question About Inkang Heo at Production Presentation—Fans Are Angry!" She had successfully navigated the controversy, using silence and tragedy to her advantage. Her name became a constant fixture in the news: "[EXCLUSIVE] AJIN BAEK CAST IN MOVIE 'HUMAN VINE'" and "[OFFICIAL] AJIN BAEK SET TO BE THE LEAD IN MOVIE, WHY DID SHE BUY A NEW SUITCASE?"
She reached a height of fame she may not have entirely expected, but the narrator concludes with a chilling realization: "That was something Ajin probably didn't expect either... but it was exactly what she had always wanted."
The story drew to a close with the simple, declarative statement: "The End."
Epilogue: The Heartless
The ending was immediately followed by an Epilogue, titled "PART 3. THE HEARTLESS."
A brief moment of serenity was introduced—"...like the calm before a storm... and in that precarious peace, there was always a sense of... restlessness in the air."
Time seemed to creep past ever so quietly... The narrative shifted to a dark alley where a group of young men were loitering, engaging in some illicit activity. They were lighting cigarettes and talking with nervous bravado.
"Hey, aren't we gonna be screwed if someone snitches out on us again?" one of them worried. "There's a lot of nosy aholes around here, you know."**
Another dismissed the concern: "It's fine. We've never been caught here before. Plus, what are they gonna do? There's no CCTV to prove anything." He lit his cigarette, confidently adding, "Plus, you look like an old fart so no one would think you're a student. Heh, you're right. Hey, you got another lighter?"
At that moment, an older man in a suit, possibly an enforcer, stepped toward them, holding a cigarette and looking menacing. "Hey, kid. Wanna borrow mine?" he offered.
The young man was immediately suspicious. "No thanks. Now beat it, old man."
The man ignored him, addressing a colleague or someone in the background: "Believe me, I'd like to... but you know Jaewoong, right?" This reference clearly startled one of the students, who immediately reacted with shock and confusion. "WHAT THE FK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?**" he yelled. Another student whispered in fear, "Hey, is that Jaewoong's dad?" The Epilogue ended on this note of escalating tension and implied danger, suggesting a new, darker plot thread involving a character named Jaewoong and his father.
While Ajin's career soared—earning Best Play Award and becoming the "Cinderella of the Korean Movie Scene"—the epilogue introduced a new darkness: PART 4. MONSTER.
In a dark alley, a man representing a powerful figure accosted a group of students, mentioning the name "Jaewoong". The students, recognizing the name, were terrified.
The scene cut to a back room where three stripped young men were forced to kneel. They were being punished for harassing the boss's nephew, Jaewoong. The man filming the punishment was instructed to capture their faces. The "Boss" then dictated a humiliating written apology: "If I ever hit Jaewoong again, I am a piece of crap and promise to be his bh*". He threatened to post the video and confront them at school with the signed agreement. Terrified, the student stammered: "W-WE WON'T HIT HIM EVER AGAIN!".
The phone buzzed, and Inmo Heo, the grieving younger brother, received the footage and the chilling text: "I'm teaching them a lesson". Inmo was clearly the powerful figure orchestrating this brutal retribution.
A friend messaged Inmo, asking him to join them for drinks, but Inmo replied, "I can't, even if I wanted to. I'm locked in a room...". The friend questioned if he had gone to see "broomstick"—a crude reference to Ajin which Inmo immediately shut down. The full exchange revealed Inmo's current isolation and his refusal to give up the name of the "broomstick". Despite his brother's tragedy, Inmo was already sinking into a dangerous cycle of violent control and deep personal isolation, preparing him to become the titular MONSTER.
"PART 1. DO NOT, PART 2. PROVOKE, PART 3. THE HEARTLESS, PART 4. MONSTER".