This World is too Cruel to Men – Chapter 438

Could it be like the sight of a moth captivated by the light?

At that very moment, Dogun, utterly entranced by Chae-rim’s allure, which was even more captivating than the light, was trying his best to get closer to her.

Despite the late hour, Yoonseo was outside.

And around Yoonseo, there was a constant sound of something frying… because it couldn’t have been otherwise.

It couldn’t have been otherwise because her current location was none other than a chicken restaurant.

And it wasn’t just any chicken restaurant.

It couldn’t be considered just any ordinary chicken restaurant because it was a place filled with memories, dating back to her childhood and high school years.

Especially with her friends, among them Dogun, whom she often visited the place with. The reason for making the effort to come here, even skipping over a neighborhood at such a late hour, was because of those memories.

After all, one of the things Dogun, with his mature demeanor and equally mature taste, liked was the chicken sold here.

Or to be precise, maybe it should be called “whole chicken.”

What more needs to be said?

Dogun was more of an old-style whole chicken fan than a regular fried chicken enthusiast.

There was a time they had talked about this, and back then, he mentioned that he didn’t like thick batter and preferred the old-style whole chicken.

And the particular old-style chicken Dogun especially liked was the one sold here.

Every bite into the crispy, perfectly fried batter that shattered with a crunch, combined with the juicy explosion of flavor and the spicy seasoning permeating the meat, was something he never got tired of.

That’s why she went out of her way to come here.

While it looked no different from the old-style chicken sold at other places, Dogun would instantly recognize it as being from this store the moment he took a bite.

And when that happens?

Naturally, they’d have a moment to reminisce about their shared memories.

Moreover… considering all the awkwardness he’d faced today because of her, it would serve as an apology, making it a win-win situation.

But what’s the use if visiting hours at the hospital have already ended, and she can’t even go inside?

Surprisingly, it mattered.

Unlike the general wards where visitation rules were strictly enforced, the VIP ward where Dogun was admitted was relatively lenient due to the nature of the people using it.

To put it simply, while the rules were technically followed, there was room to bypass them if one tried.

In a way, that was only natural.

After all, the VIP ward often catered to people like corporate executives, so enforcing strict rules like those in the general wards would be counterproductive.

Imagine if a company emergency occurred late at night, and a visit was denied due to strict rules. It could lead to a lack of proper response, with the hospital ultimately held accountable.

Given such considerations, the VIP ward allowed nighttime visits, provided the intention was there.

Of course, most visitors respected the rules, but exceptions could be made when necessary.

“So, there shouldn’t be any problems getting in…”

After all, wasn’t she always preparing for moments like this?

Whenever she visited Dogun at the hospital, she would bring drinks or snacks from a nearby café, building rapport with the evening and night-shift staff.

Having consistently built goodwill through such efforts, it was unlikely that a doctor or nurse would turn her away.

That left the challenge of passing through the hospital entrance, but that wasn’t much of an issue since she could simply use the VIP ward’s exclusive passageway.

With that in mind—

“How much longer will it take?”

“Eh, still about five more minutes.”

“You said five minutes earlier, too.”

“Did I? Well, either way! Rushing won’t change anything. I’m not the one frying the chicken, you know.”

Not the one frying the chicken? Then who was?

“All I do is put the chicken in the oil. It’s the oil that does the frying. So if you want to rush someone, go talk to the oil.”

Every time someone tried to rush her, she’d respond with that same line. It was oddly consistent.

“So, what brings you here alone? Weren’t you always stuck like glue to that… Dogun, was it?”

Even her cheeky tone, which could hit sensitive topics, was par for the course.

“Dogun’s in the hospital.”

“Oh? Is he sick?”

“No, nothing like that. He just said he had to get some tests done.”

“Got it.”

As their small talk continued, the chicken in the oil crackled, cooking steadily. A savory aroma, unique to freshly fried food, began to fill the shop.

It was enough to make her unconsciously gulp in anticipation, especially as the smell grew richer.

Eventually, the chicken lady turned to scoop the golden pieces from the bubbling oil. The results were far beyond appetizing—bordering on artistic, even.

“Packing it as usual?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s see, where’d I put the sauce packets…”

“Oh, and can you pack three more chickens?”

“Five chickens in total? You two planning to eat all that?”

“No, the extra three are for Dogun’s doctor and the nurses.”

With two chickens for herself and Dogun, and three more for the staff, she headed to the hospital.

As expected, getting to Dogun’s VIP room wasn’t difficult. While the staff on duty showed some hesitation at first, they gratefully accepted the extra chicken she brought for them. After all, who could resist freshly fried chicken late at night?

‘Makes sense—it’s prime snack time for them.’

Still, when she reached Dogun’s room, she noticed the door was locked, despite the lights being on. That likely meant he had gone to sleep early.

‘Damn.’

If she’d known, she might have texted him beforehand instead of trying to surprise him. Her plan to share a late-night snack together seemed like a bust.

What now?

Giving the extra chicken to the nurses was one option. Waking Dogun was another, though she quickly dismissed the idea. If he was this tired, he must’ve had a rough day, probably because of whatever happened with Bora.

‘Oh well…’

Reluctantly, she prepared to leave. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment, but sometimes things didn’t go as planned.

Just as she turned to go—

“Mm, uh, ah… ahhh…”

She froze as a strange sound pierced her ears. It was unmistakably a moan—a woman’s moan, one that only came out in moments of true passion.

And it was coming from Dogun’s room.

Her mind went blank, her thoughts screeching to a halt.

‘Wait. Don’t tell me…’

The locked door wasn’t to avoid disturbance while sleeping—it was to prevent interruptions during… something else.

Her fists clenched, crumpling the paper bag of chicken in her hands.

She’d gone out of her way to bring him food late at night, only to find him with someone else. And the culprit?

She didn’t even need to check. It could only be one person: Chaerim.

‘…Seriously?’

Anger and disappointment surged within her, causing her grip on the chicken bag to tighten even further, until it gave a loud crumpling sound.