Chapter 98: [GOT LOST]

Kairo’s stare was sharp enough to carve through steel. The way he leaned forward, elbows braced against his knees, voice low and steady, made Eli’s throat tighten like a noose.

“You parade yourself as an influencer. A beauty vlogger.” His tone wasn’t mocking, wasn’t even cruel—it was worse. Just a flat statement of fact, clinical and undeniable. “Thousands follow you. Tens of thousands, maybe more. Do you know what that means?”

Eli blinked, his brain short-circuiting under the weight of that gaze. His mouth moved before he could think better of it. “…It means I’m pretty?”

It was the first thing that came to mind, maybe because his brain was an absolute mess right now.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Kairo’s black eyes narrowed into slits, his jaw flexing once, twice, like he was actively deciding whether or not to strangle him then and there.

Finally, he exhaled. The sound was sharp, cutting. “It means you hold influence. Power. If you wanted to help your ’missing friend’s family,’ as you claim, the first and most effective thing you could have done was simple—use your platform.”

He raised a hand slightly, slicing the air like the edge of a blade. “A short fundraiser. A campaign. Not only for one family, but for many. Cast a wide net. No spotlight. No suspicion.”

Eli’s lips parted, his chest hollowing out like someone had scooped it clean. “…Wait. You mean I could’ve just… asked my followers? And they would’ve actually done it?”

The way Kairo’s brows furrowed, the sheer disbelief etched across his face, made Eli feel about three inches tall.

“What do you think the word ’influencer’ means?” Kairo’s tone wasn’t raised, but the pressure behind it was worse than shouting. Each syllable pressed heavy, suffocating.

Eli’s stomach twisted violently. His palms dampened against his knees. He hadn’t thought about it like that—at all.

For him, vlogging had always been makeup tutorials, brand sponsorships, lighthearted streams.

Not… life-saving fundraisers.

And if that was the case, why didn’t more vloggers do it? Was it really that easy?

But—his mom might not have months. She might not even have weeks. Fundraisers, campaigns, spreading awareness—it all sounded slow.

Too slow.

Eli swallowed hard, his voice cracking when he fumbled, “Then—why not just donate anonymously? If I’m worried about attention, wouldn’t that solve it?”

Kairo’s gaze sharpened like the edge of a sword cutting through an excuse. “You’re still thinking in the wrong direction. A faceless donation is a short-term solution. Useful, yes, but shallow. It vanishes once the money dries up.”

He leaned forward an inch, eyes like obsidian knives locking Eli in place. “What you want is awareness. Reach. If more people see them—if more people care—their problem does not end with your money. It extends beyond you.”

Eli’s chest squeezed until it hurt, breath shallow. His voice came faint, almost bratty, but fragile underneath. “…So I shouldn’t just give money whenever I want?”

The answer came like a blade. “No. Because it’s not your money.”

The world stopped.

’What does he mean by that?’

Eli’s entire body froze. His blood turned to ice, his heart plummeting into his stomach.

For a split, terrifying second—his secret felt exposed. Laid bare.

Did Kairo know? Did he see through him? Did he know Elione wasn’t really Elione at all?

Kairo’s voice cut through the panic, steady and unflinching. “Most of it belongs to your family. Your father’s fortune. The name you were born under. Yes, you’ve made enough from vlogging to be comfortable—but not enough to sustain a penthouse, staff, sponsorship obligations, and someone else’s endless medical bills.”

Eli’s breath rushed out in a shaky gasp. His chest ached, his pulse a frantic drum in his ears. Relief flickered—at least Kairo wasn’t suspicious of the real truth—but it was crushed under the weight of his words.

Because Kairo wasn’t wrong.

Not even a little.

’I’m using the benefits of being Elione too much… I got too desperate.’

Just a small taste of what it felt like to have money, and he’d thought it was endless

But fuck.

Elione Noa Ahn was the vlogger, not Eli.

Eli didn’t know a damn thing about vlogging. Not how to run a campaign, not how to rally followers, not how to use hashtags or edit some “call-to-action” video that could go viral.

He was just—him. A washed-up cleaner shoved into a stranger’s body.

’But I guess I could still try.’ He clenched his jaw, his fingers curling into the soft fabric of the couch. Anything.

He’d try anything if it meant Lucas wouldn’t have to beg strangers online for scraps.

He looked up. Kairo’s gaze—unyielding just seconds ago—seemed to soften by a fraction. Not much, but enough to make Eli’s chest loosen just a little.

“You seem to have understood my point… quite quickly,” Kairo said. His voice was quieter now, but still laced with that relentless edge, as though testing him.

Eli gave a weak shrug. “…Well, it’s a good point.”

Kairo’s black eyes narrowed slightly, studying him. “But you still seem conflicted.”

Eli’s throat bobbed. His words came low, raw, dragged from the pit of his chest. “I am. I just… I just want to help them. I don’t want her to die.”

The silence that followed weighed heavy, suffocating. The hum of the city outside the glass felt deafening compared to Kairo’s quiet.

Then—Kairo tilted his head, his stare sharpening again, cutting through Eli like a blade. “How important is this Lucien Kim to you?”

Eli’s blood ran cold.

“And,” Kairo continued, leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees, his tone slicing away any escape. “What really happened to him? Because his brother didn’t seem to know, but you seem to.”

“I—” Eli’s voice cracked, caught between instinct and terror. His mouth opened, closed, words clawing at his throat.

“And don’t lie.” Kairo’s tone dropped lower, steady as stone. “I can see right through you.”

Eli flinched like the words were a lash across his back.

Because he had been about to lie. Of course he had. He had the perfect excuse forming in his head—a half-truth about rumors, about cleaners gossiping—but the moment Kairo’s eyes bored into him, the excuse shattered.

His shoulders slumped. His breath trembled.

“Lucien Kim is…”

His heart hammered so loud he swore Kairo could hear it.

’Is me.’

The words burned on the tip of his tongue, desperate to tear free. His lungs ached with the truth he couldn’t say.

But he couldn’t.

“Is?” Kairo pressed, the single syllable cutting into Eli like a knife.

Eli’s fingers tightened against his knees. He forced his voice out, low, careful. “He’s a good friend, as I’ve said. A hard-worker. He did everything to provide for his family.”

He kept his gaze down, watching the patterns of light from the window slide over the polished floor, because if he looked at Kairo’s eyes, he was sure he’d crumble.

“He prioritized his family above everything else. Even though he was looked down on for being an E-Class, for being a dungeon cleaner. Even his fellow cleaners mocked him. But he…” Eli’s lips curved weakly, a breath of laughter slipping through.

“He didn’t care. Not if it meant helping his parents. Not if it meant making sure his little brother—who had so much talent, so much potential—could get the education he deserved.”

His voice cracked. He swallowed hard. “Because unlike Lucien, who was… average. Lucas was… extraordinary.”

The words tasted too real, almost like confession.

“You seem to really have a close relationship with Lucien Kim.” Kairo’s tone was calm, but the way his arms folded across his chest carried weight, his broad frame leaning back just slightly as if appraising Eli from a distance.

“Again, that’s surprising. I didn’t expect you to be the type to befriend someone of… different status.”

Eli let out a shaky laugh, trying to keep it light. “I get it. There’s… a lot of different opinions floating around about me whenever someone does their research.”

’Though, they might not be wrong. It’s just that there’s a different soul in this body.’

Kairo gave a single, slow nod. His black eyes never left Eli’s face. “One would wonder which of them is the truth.”

The stare cut sharper than the words.

Eli’s lips twitched into a thin smile, forcing a joke past the knot in his throat. “What do you think?”

The silence that followed stretched, taut as a wire.

Kairo didn’t smile. Didn’t even blink. Instead, his eyes narrowed, the question dropping like a blade:

“So what happened to him?”

Eli froze. The shift was too sudden. His throat constricted, chest locking up as if invisible hands were squeezing the air out of him.

Images slammed through his head—the dungeon collapsing, the ground splitting apart, heat, fire, the deafening roar of stone and steel breaking around him. His body trembling, his breath stolen away, and then—darkness.

He nearly gagged on the memory.

’Breathe. Don’t let it show. Don’t—’

His fingernails dug deep crescents into his palms. He forced his head down, shadow hiding the panic flashing across his eyes.

His voice cracked, deliberately frayed. “He di—” The word lodged in his throat like a jagged stone. He swallowed hard, forcing it into something safer. “—got lost. Inside the dungeon that exploded.”

The words fell heavy, smothering the room.

Silence.

The hum of the city through the glass walls felt miles away, muffled by the thundering beat of Eli’s heart.

He dared a glance up. Just a glance.

And nearly flinched.

Kairo’s mask had slipped. For the first time since Eli had met him, shock cut clean through the hunter’s face. His black eyes widened, disbelief flickering across them like firelight breaking through shadow.

“What do you mean he got lost inside the dungeon?” His voice was low, sharper now, no longer detached but edged with urgency. “There wasn’t any report of someone being left behind before it exploded.”

The words stabbed through Eli, cold and merciless.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep