Hazardous Concentration Chapter 31

As soon as his gaze met those dark eyes, Eunhoo’s emotions and reason swirled violently, as if caught in a vortex. Eunhoo’s cheeks stiffened before he could even process it.

“…”

Sweat pooled inside his clenched fists.

“…I’m not running away.”

As Eunhoo answered, trembling, Yeo Taejun raised an eyebrow.

“Good. Then, shall we skip the useless talk and get straight to the point?”

After crushing out his cigarette in the ashtray, Yeo Taejun picked up the document on the desk in front of him and held it out to Eunhoo.

“It’s a contract.”

Eunhoo hesitated, then asked,

“A contract…?”

“It’s better to have everything certain.”

Eunhoo barely swallowed the gasp that threatened to escape. To think he would go this far, even drawing up a contract.

“Read it and sign.”

At his words, Eunhoo approached the desk, shuffling his feet, and looked at the sheet of paper laid out before him.

「Party A: Yeo Taejun.

Party B: Joo Eunhoo.」

Party A and Party B. Even on the sheet of paper, it was clearly revealed who held the upper hand. Biting his lip slightly, Eunhoo lowered his gaze and began to carefully examine the contents below. It hadn’t even been a few hours since he made the phone call, yet the purpose, the conditions for entering the contract, and the clauses were all laid out in an orderly fashion, unbelievable as it was that they were prepared in such a short time.

Not only would he be provided with enough money to pay back HW Capital with some left over, but he would also be able to perfectly resolve his mother’s hospital expenses. There was no reason to hesitate. Even so, Eunhoo could not easily sign the signature line.

The contents starting from Article 1 were terrifying. As if to prove the statement that he was buying him with money was real, it listed everything from anal intercourse to oral sex.

Using his throat? For a moment, he didn’t grasp the meaning of that.

“This is….”

Eunhoo looked up at him with a feeling of ‘could it really be?’. A bitter smile was etched on his lips. His vision blurred, and the hand holding the contract began to tremble uncontrollably.

“Why? Are you not confident?”

As if telling him to call it off and go back now if that were the case, there was no regret in the man’s voice. Eunhoo hesitated for a very brief moment, but soon shook his head.

“N, no. I will do it. I, I can do it.”

There was nowhere to retreat now.

Eunhoo swallowed hard, feeling as though his throat was already beginning to ache. He hadn’t even started, but he already felt a sense of hopelessness. But this was only the beginning. After reading Article 2 following Article 1, Eunhoo’s face stiffened more severely than before.

“‘The contract continues until Party A is fed up with Party B’…. What is this?”

One year or two years—there was no set expiration date like that; wasn’t this indefinite?

When Eunhoo questioned the nonsensical contract period, Yeo Taejun wore a look of bewilderment, as if asking what the problem was.

“I thought you would actually like it.”

“It’s not even set to one or two years; who would welcome seeing such an abstract and vague period?”

He was so dumbfounded he couldn’t even manage a hollow laugh.

“I want to modify this. Let’s set a definite period.”

Yeo Taejun watched Eunhoo’s persistence with amusement before abruptly spitting out a remark.

“You’re more confident than you look.”

“…”

His brow furrowed. A sneer hung on the lips of the consistently relaxed Yeo Taejun.

“How long do you think my interest in you will last? Sure, I was intrigued by your face, and I wanted to sleep with you once. But….”

Yeo Taejun scanned Eunhoo from bottom to top.

“I don’t know if that feeling will last long-term.”

His internal circuitry froze at the candid evaluation.

It wasn’t just the feeling of humiliation; his face flushed with shame. He felt like kicking open the door and leaving right now. But what was scarier than his pride was money. As far as he could think, Yeo Taejun was the only one who could pay off the hundreds of millions in debt. Most of all, if his words were true, it was obvious he would get sick of him after a few months. In that case, it wouldn’t be a losing deal for Eunhoo.

“Fine. Then leave the period as is, but about the prices of the items in Article 1 here.”

“Why, is it not enough? Then I’ll raise it more. But you’ll have to be worth that much.”

At Yeo Taejun’s words that he had to be worth the money, goosebumps rose on Eunhoo.

“Th, that’s not it. I was wondering if I could add something else to the payment conditions here….”

In any case, after a month, he was in a position where he would be sold off somewhere because he couldn’t pay back the principal to HW Capital. Rather than being dragged off to some unknown place and suffering terrible things from multiple people, it was better to be sold to Yeo Taejun, who specified exactly what he needed to do in the future.

“You can lower the unit price, so please help with my mother’s treatment. M, my mother needs surgery immediately, and there is nothing I can do.”

What was most desperate for Eunhoo right now was his mother. If only his mother became healthy, there was nothing he wouldn’t do.

“I beg of you. If you do that, I will do anything the Director tells me to.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his waist. Even if he refused, there was nothing Eunhoo could do. Please, please! It was when he was desperately praying inside.

“You’re fearless.”

A dry, harsh scoff echoed through the air.

“You shouldn’t say you’ll do ‘anything’ so carelessly. Fine, I’ll grant it.”

Eunhoo’s head snapped up.

“Really?”

When he asked with his eyes wide open in disbelief, Yeo Taejun replied, “I don’t say things I don’t mean,” and picked up his phone, which he had thrown on the desk, to make a call somewhere.

“Hyunseong.”

—Yes. Director.

“Contact Dr. Kim right now and tell him to clear out one of the VIP rooms at SJ Hospital, and move Joo Eunhoo’s mother there.”

Eunhoo’s eyes opened wide. If it was SJ Hospital, that was where his mother had been receiving treatment until recently. Yeo Taejun, who had finished speaking and immediately hung up the phone, asked.

“Done, right?”

“Ah… Yes. But Director, I don’t need a VIP room.”

The situation, which had changed so suddenly, was scary. The first thing he realized after his family went through that was that there was no such thing as a free lunch in this world, and excessive favor was felt as a burden.

“A six-person room is more than enough.”

If only she could get the surgery and proper treatment, he truly didn’t care about the room.

“If you’re going to do it, you have to do it properly. Don’t you think? Now there’s nothing else to hold you back.”

“Yes.”

Having obtained what he wanted most, what more could he ask for? Eunhoo picked up the pen in front of him and wrote his name clearly on the signature line.

“Here.”

Eunhoo handed over the signed contract. Yeo Taejun took it. He barely suppressed the urge to tightly grip the contract as it slipped between his fingers.

Yeo Taejun stared at the completed contract for a moment before placing it on the desk. Yeo Taejun’s voice reached Eunhoo, who was standing there blankly, realizing that there was no turning back now.

“Joo Eunhoo.”

He lifted his head to look at him. Yeo Taejun flicked his hand, signaling him to come here. When Eunhoo just watched him blankly, he immediately furrowed his brow.

“Are you not coming?”

At the threatening voice, Eunhoo hurried forward. He could not keep up with the whims of the man in front of him.

“What do you have to do from now on?”

“…”

Eunhoo hesitantly lifted his gaze to meet his. To Eunhoo, who blinked, not knowing what he meant, Yeo Taejun frowned.

“What to….”

As Eunhoo asked stupidly, Yeo Taejun let out a low scoff. But before long, that laughter vanished without a trace. He tilted his head with an arrogant expression.

“You have to fulfill the contract.”

“…”

“Strip.”

As soon as he heard those words, Eunhoo’s thought process came to a complete halt.

∞ ∞ ∞

There are many types of regrets. Representative examples are ‘I shouldn’t have done that’ and ‘I should have done that.’ Right now, it was the former. Eunhoo regretted that he should have made his decision more carefully.

“Strip.”

At the command that made his chest feel cold, Eunhoo’s pupils shook wildly, as if they had encountered a rough tidal wave.

His vision repeatedly turned pitch black and then white, as if the light was flickering.

“N, now?”

Eunhoo asked, flustered.