Yoo Seongwoon knew Bisabeol’s tastes exceedingly well.
‘He likes detached, selfish people.’
People who were thoroughly individualistic, yet diligent and capable as a rule. People who, even as someone died before their eyes, could think, ‘I do feel sorry for them, but I am glad it is not me.’ People who nevertheless tried to uphold a minimum standard of goodness and conscience.
Those were Bisabeol’s criteria for collecting people.
‘In that respect, this Juhyeon is nowhere near Bisabeol’s type.’
In truth, Yoo Seongwoon knew only enough to recognize the kind of person his Guild Master liked. He did not know what sorts of people Bisabeol disliked or how he reacted to them. That was only natural; if someone did not suit his tastes, Bisabeol simply did not collect them in the first place.
And now…
“……”
“……”
In the silence that seemed to have crawled up from hell, Yoo Seongwoon tightened his interlaced fingers.
‘Someone, anyone, please say something.’
Caught between Bisabeol and Juhyeon, Yoo Seongwoon was withering away.
‘He was so openly sarcastic that I assumed Juhyeon was not his type, but…’
Bisabeol appeared to dislike Juhyeon with utter sincerity.
He was smiling, but his lips were twisted. Unlike his usual sly composure, in which his smile…