Chapter 277: Chapter 277

A quiet voice called out.

In the bedroom lit only by a faint mood lamp, Da-yeon’s silhouette flickered softly in the dim light.

“Don’t cry. You didn’t do anything wrong. So why are you crying?”

Her face was too blurred to see her expression, but her warmth was unmistakable.

Our hands were still clasped, and her thumb gently stroked the back of mine—

and something deep inside me ached.

Her touch responded to my broken voice.

Da-yeon’s hand reached up slowly and wiped the tears from my cheek.

Ironically, that soft fingertip made my breath tremble.

“Do you think I’ll really... be okay...?”

Something I had been suppressing surged up violently.

It spilled through my fingers without even giving me a chance to stop it.

I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I want to keep acting... I don’t want it to end ... not my music, either...”

When had it grown so big?

I used to brush it off, saying it was just a hobby, that it wasn’t my main job. That was stupid.

there was never a choice to give up to begin with.

In my past life, even dreaming was forbidden.

Now that I finally had something to lose, I was terrified of losing it.

This wasn’t a leftover regret from another life—it was Lee Ha-eun’s true dream.

I wanted the people who met me through the screen to keep seeing me as an actress.

I wanted the people who heard me through their earphones to keep seeing me as a singer.

I wanted to be loved. Desperately.

“I love acting... and singing too...”

“I don’t want to give it up...”

“Why would you? Over something ?”

I knew Da-yeon wasn’t wrong.

Maybe—just maybe—it really wouldn’t be that big of a deal.

Maybe most people would still love me.

But someone... someone would definitely come with a knife.

What if someone who had once been my fan turned their back on me in disappointment?

I was terrified of that.

Even if it was just one person.

I already knew how excruciating it was to lose someone’s affection.

I never wanted to go through that again.

“You idiot. No one can be loved by everyone.”

“I know... I know, but... what if it keeps happening...?”

I couldn’t shake off the vague fear, and in the end, I pulled Da-yeon into an embrace, burying my face in her shoulder.

I wrapped my arms around her trembling frame and pressed myself close, overwhelmed by the sensation that I might fall apart at any second.

Maybe it was because of all the fruity cocktails we’d had at the bar.

My emotional control was unusually loose tonight.

I couldn’t stop the flood of feelings.

“It’s okay. I told you—it’s going to be okay.”

I leaned on her for a long time.

Her hand began to slowly pat my back.

Why did that quiet, gentle pat feel so painfully tender?

I said everything I’d been holding in.

I cried. I clung to her.

Once I wavered, it was all over—I collapsed in an instant.

But unlike my past life—

this time, there was someone to catch me before I broke completely.

Someone I could rely on.

Just that one difference...

“You’re not alone, you know. You’d be surprised how many people are helping you right now.”

“Huh... ah, ngh... hhuuh...”

I could fall apart knowing I’d be okay.

I could be completely vulnerable.

And so, I fell all the way to the bottom.

My body, exhausted from all the crying, slowly tilted and finally collapsed limply onto the mattress.

Da-yeon, who had never once let go of me, fell down with me too.

The bedroom had gone completely dark at some point.

In that thick darkness, only the faint light in Da-yeon’s eyes as she looked at me remained.

“...If you want to sleep, go ahead.”

Her voice came from just within arm’s reach. Still kind as ever.

I acted more childish than usual.

“Hold my hand... until I fall asleep...”

Thinking back, it had always been like that.

When vague fear made my heart race.

When even I wasn’t sure I’d be okay.

‘Here, hold my hand. Slowly...’

“Okay. I’ll hold it until you’re asleep.”

Just having someone hold my hand slowly melted the tension.

That feeling of being protected.

The warmth in our clasped hands made the world fade into quiet.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Her fingers intertwined with mine gently but firmly.

Once we were fully interlocked, a soft lullaby faintly began to play.

Being comforted by someone who had always been the one I comforted—

it was unexpectedly peaceful.

My teary eyes slowly closed.

And with a quiet “Good night” whispered beside me...

everything went quiet.

The kind so complete you can’t even remember your dreams.

At the soft voice calling out, the old man slightly raised his head and met the eyes of the boy in front of him.

The complete opposite of the way things always had been—when he looked down from above.

“I have a request. No, a proposal.”

“...From you, Do-yoon?”

Words he'd never heard before.

His grandson, Jeong Do-yoon, who had been passive all his life, was now showing initiative for the very first time.

What could possibly have moved his grandson ?

Why had he come all the way to the old man’s study so early in the morning, dragging along his frail body?

It was clearly different from the past, when he'd simply lain quietly in a cold hospital room.

“It’s about Lee Ha-eun.”

What followed was an explanation of the recent internet commotion involving Ha-eun, who SL Group had been planning to partner with.

It had only been briefly reported the day before,

but Do-yoon was now presenting it in more detail, along with his personal opinion.

“If we act early, the risk will be greatly reduced. There’s a tendency for the public to treat this as just another weird rumor.”

“Is that your certainty? Or just your wish?”

Once Do-yoon finished speaking, the old man let out a short sigh.

This behavior—actively advocating for something—was a complete departure from how he had always been.

Still, it made sense.

It was barely two seconds of a voice.

If you didn’t listen closely, you wouldn’t even recognize it as the same voice from that “Diah” broadcast.

And even if Ha-eun and Diah were truly the same person, there had been no inappropriate comments.

Ha-eun wasn’t even fully shown in the video that had triggered the issue.

“There’s not enough evidence to convince people.”

“People don’t look for evidence.”

“That’s why we can take care of it. She’s someone who just dominated viewership ratings.”

The evidence that it was true.

The evidence that it wasn’t.

To the general public, those were equally meaningless.

Since neither side had conclusive persuasion, it could still be dealt with—before it became a full-blown news story.

Do-yoon’s grandfather had the power to do so.

“In half a year, people will forget this ever happened.”

“And why do you think that?”

“Didn’t you say she would soar? You said it yourself, Chairman.”

All of Do-yoon’s rationale came from his grandfather.

Just like with Gods and Goblins, he believed the impact of Parasite Family would be immense.

Maybe even greater than Gods and Goblins.

“If you know something’s about to skyrocket in value, what merchant would just sit there and do nothing?”

Quoting the old man’s own words back to him, Do-yoon made the old man chuckle.

“It’s not a matter of truth or falsehood—I want to make it something the public has no reason to know.”

Whether this issue was a mere speck of dust or the beginning of a butterfly effect didn’t matter.

What mattered was that it hadn’t yet turned into a real article.

There was still time to act.

No malicious articles had appeared yet.

It was still entirely possible to prevent them.

SL Group, as it was now, could do that.

“Which earns more money—taking action or doing nothing?”

“Your new drama will start filming soon. It’s better to deal with risks ahead of time, isn’t it?”

The old man fell silent under Do-yoon’s persistent persuasion.

Nothing he said was wrong... but the old man couldn’t help but wonder: why was he going this far?

He and Lee Ha-eun weren’t even close.

On the surface, he kept saying it was for SL Group’s financial interest—

but there was clearly another reason behind it.

And so, in the end, the old man accepted Do-yoon’s proposal, though he rephrased it:

“Let’s call it a request, not a proposal.”

“You like her, don’t you? Lee Ha-eun.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that.”

He took it not as a business suggestion to the Chairman, but a personal favor to a grandfather.

And with it, the old man placed a debt on Do-yoon’s shoulders.

“I’ll remember this debt.”

“You’re misunderstanding.”

“Then fool someone else, you rascal.”

“You really are misunderstanding.”

As Do-yoon continued to offer his weak denials, a faint guilt crept up his spine.

And no wonder—because the one he really wanted to help wasn’t actress Lee Ha-eun.

...And there’s no way I can explain that.

He couldn’t very well tell his grandfather that a few months ago, Ha-eun’s Diah had become his new oshi.

Not that he’d understand even if he tried.

So in the end, he stuck to pleading ignorance.

The old man clearly had decided that Do-yoon was just a devoted fan of Lee Ha-eun.

“I still won’t set you two up. That’s not how things work these days.”

Unwilling to cause any further misunderstandings, Do-yoon chose silence.

All he could do was bow deeply in response.

“Recently... there was a bit of an issue. Related to our Diah.”

“I usually try not to speak on things ... but I think I need to take the lead here.”

“I hope people will just see Diah as Diah. Any mention of the ‘red pill’ is banned on all broadcasts. That’s always been the rule anyway...”

Hwan-sang-hyang’s ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) head manager, Ji Hye-min, spoke seriously as she asked thousands of viewers for help in self-policing.

She didn’t say a single word about the celebrity being speculated as Diah's real identity.

The same went for all of the VTubers under Hwan-sang-hyang.

While the mood among fans was practically celebratory, no one officially acknowledged it as true.

Hye-min’s stream ended shortly afterward.

Feeling the weight of her role more than ever lately, Hye-min took out her phone.

She hesitated, and then—

She began typing a message to Ha-eun, who was currently resting in the Maldives with Da-yeon.

She started with a simple greeting.

“Hope you’re having fun with Da-yeon... try not to worry too much...”

But before she could finish typing—

“Oh, Dong-jin. What’s going on?”

What followed was enough to make Hye-min question her own ears.

It was something she hadn’t even considered possible.

[ Ha-eun is live-streaming on YouTube right now. From the Maldives! ]

[ Her personal channel. She’s doing a live broadcast—right now— ]

Hye-min immediately typed furiously on her keyboard.

She found Ha-eun’s channel and clicked into the livestream.

｢Isn’t the sea beautiful? It just goes on forever.｣

The wide, open ocean.

A sleek, modern café.

Ha-eun in a pale yellow sun hat and a pure white dress.

–Diah I love you! Diah I love you! Diah I love you! Diah I love you! Diah I love you!

–Biển đẹp quá đi💗💗💗💗

–Where is this place?

–Ha Eun 💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙

–¡Gracias por el drama!

The chat scrolled by at lightning speed.

Most of it was in foreign languages.

The occasional Korean comment was completely buried—there was no way Ha-eun could read them.

To Hye-min, who had no idea what was going on, it was a bewildering sight.

But what she heard next was even more shocking:

｢Later I’m going to go take pictures with sharks, but I’ll lose internet out on the water—so I’ll upload the photos to Instagram.｣

All kinds of thoughts started spiraling in Hye-min’s head.

The Ha-eun on this stream was completely different from the worried figure she’d expected.

“...Are you really okay?”

“You have to show them you’re fine. If you act like you’re hiding, it only makes things worse for you.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually stream from the Maldives...”

“Think of it as video content.”