Episode 2
A month ago.
The central library at Seoul National University was always crowded, no matter the season. To secure a spot in the reading room after class, Yunseo had to arrive early every morning.
Last year, she had shared a dorm room with a senior who was about to start working—it had been tolerable. This year, her roommate was a drinker, the type who would nurse alcohol all day, claiming it was “romance.” With no other choice, Yunseo resigned herself to living in the library this semester.
Her throat felt raw, eyes stinging from dryness. Even with them closed, they burned. She needed coffee. She stood, stretching.
“Ah, shit.”
A muttered curse drew her attention. A man sat nearby, back slouched against a chair, straw dangling from a tumbler in his mouth. While everyone else studied with books and tablets, he played a mobile game.
Even from behind, his presence was intimidating. His shoulders were broad, his back muscular, his long legs stretched well beyond the desk. He looked like a physical education major.
Yunseo carefully squeezed past him, trying not to touch the chair. Then she noticed it—the faint scent of alcohol.
No… this can’t be real.
He sipped from the straw again, the smell of liquor spreading. Alcohol in the reading room? Impossible. Water and coffee were the only drinks allowed; even candy and chocolate were tightly controlled. Alcohol? Absolutely forbidden.
Yunseo’s brows shot up in disbelief. She was about to slip past when the man finally rose. Their eyes met.
“…Hmm?”
His build was imposing, but it was his face that froze her—chiseled, sculptural, flawless. She was literally speechless.
“You’re pretty,” he said, voice carrying the faint scent of alcohol.
Yunseo frowned. He laughed wickedly. Then, without missing a beat, he pulled a phone from his pocket and tossed it onto the reading room seat with a thud.
Heads turned, startled, but he merely raised his hands apologetically, eyes closed, smiling.
Then, leaning close to her ear, he whispered, “Should I give you my number?”
I didn’t even ask for it… Yunseo brushed her ear reflexively. He smiled faintly, the lingering scent of alcohol mixing with his natural musk.
On the desk remained only his oversized tumbler and the phone—no sign of any intention to study. Yunseo’s patience snapped. This man had to be dealt with. She strode toward the library security office.
Do-hyun tossed his car keys, caught them, and exited the library. Halfway down the stairs, he paused, hand on his chest.
What was that just now? The black depths of her eyes seemed to wrap around him completely. It had to be an illusion. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he descended the rest of the stairs.
“That man is Kwon Do-hyun.”
“There’s DK Group… the business school genius. Handsome as hell.”
Everyone on the library stairs froze for a moment, gazes locked on him.
“Wow… he’s really handsome. Business school is lucky to have him.”
“God must have sprinkled his blessings all over him,” someone whispered.
Students clustered in groups of three or five couldn’t take their eyes off him.
“You must work out a lot—look at that body.”
“I heard he’s good at every sport. Core strength, endurance… amazing.”
From a young age, Do-hyun had always drawn crowds. Yet when confronted with them directly, he would become nervous, stutter, or avoid eye contact. Despite that, people kept chasing him.
Luck, however, was his constant companion. Everything seemed to fall into place effortlessly, from wealth to opportunities. Life was so easy it bored him.
“Brother… what about the tumbler?”
“I left it halfway.”
“Should I bring it?”
Do-hyun stubbed out his cigarette with his foot, raising a single eyebrow. “It’s fine.”
The DK Foundation had recently initiated a scholarship program in his name, a strategic move to nurture future talent and solidify the family’s image at Seoul National University. His occasional presence in the library was a perfunctory show of involvement. Boredom had led him to bring whiskey from home in a tumbler—his private rebellion.
“Hyung… my cousin said she saw you overseas. The longest relationship you’ve had is a week. So after one night, you’re done?”
“I’ve never dated more than one woman at a time,” he replied. Timing was everything. Meeting someone was fine—but he never let it spiral out of control. No drugs, no chaos—just the life expected of a DK Group heir.
A few juniors approached him.
“Do-hyun oppa! We heard you were at the hotel wine bar yesterday! Are you taking us too?”
“I’ll make reservations. Go ahead.”
“Are you coming with us?”
“…Not really.”
“Yes? Let’s go!”
The female juniors on either side pressed him with cheerful eagerness. Polite, well-mannered—he remembered names, respected hierarchy, all as expected of someone born into wealth and a Confucian household.
“Why haven’t you been hanging out lately? We’ve been waiting for you to return to school!”
Do-hyun smiled faintly at their playful charm.
“What am I going to do with you? It’s not like I’m going to roll around with you.”
Even his jokes were mischievous, eliciting sly glances. But the timing never aligned—school, work, or otherwise—and the woman in front of him wasn’t his type.
“Do-hyun hyung?”
“Yeah?”
“Hyung… I heard they’re forcing you to leave the library?”
He snatched the phone, reading the third-year group chat: forced eviction, restricted entry, ten-day sanction. Suspension from entry and loans. Ridiculous.
DK’s name had been attached to a major scholarship press release, and here he was, being punished for trying to show up. Running a hand through his hair, Do-hyun exhaled sharply.
