Regression Guidelines For the Supporting Character

Hyun Dowoon, glancing anxiously between Kang Haeil and Cha Seohu, seized the chance to speak up again.
“No matter what… let him eat something, at least.”
“Mm.”
Kang Haeil frowned slightly, the corners of his brows dipping as if he were considering it, then answered with reluctant approval.
“I suppose there’s no choice. He won’t last long on an empty stomach anyway.”
“……”
The fact that he agreed so quickly made it obvious he’d intended to feed him all along. Pretending to be conflicted like that was pure theater.
“Hyung~ Let’s eat!”
The moment Kang Haeil gave the okay, Kwon Seoyul approached Cha Seohu with undisguised eagerness.
He slipped an arm under Seohu’s armpit and lifted him like a child.
Normally, Seohu would’ve cursed and fiercely resisted, but now he simply hung limp, allowing himself to be moved. He did scowl deeply, but that was all the fight he had left.
A meek Cha Seohu was a rare sight.
Kwon Seoyul, knowing that better than anyone, looked downright giddy as he sat Seohu in a chair and began fussing over him—brushing back his soaked bangs, wiping the water from his cheeks, and rolling up the damp sleeves of his shirt.
Cha Seohu looked terribly pale, sitting there like a marionette with its strings cut.
Meanwhile, four full meals had been laid out on the table.
Once the servants bowed silently and stepped back, the meal began.
Kang Haeil didn’t look particularly hungry. Kwon Seoyul grabbed a bottle of wine in the middle of the day. Hyun Dowoon clutched a fork, watching Seohu with concern.
After sitting motionless for a long while, Cha Seohu finally began to move.
His trembling fingertips hovered uncertainly over the cutlery before weakly grabbing a knife—only to immediately drop it from his hand.
Clang!
The silver knife bounced once against the armrest with a sharp sound before tumbling to the floor beneath the table.
The servant who’d been watching quietly placed a new knife beside him.
“……”
Unable to speak, Cha Seohu dipped his head slightly in lieu of thanks.
The servant also bowed politely before withdrawing. Since the knife had rolled under the table, it was left untouched for now.
“Hyung, do you want steak? Want me to cut it for you?”
“You’re gonna eat meat looking like that? Ugh, start with some soup.”
Kwon Seoyul took Seohu’s steak and began cutting it. On the other side, Hyun Dowoon gently pushed a bowl of soup toward him.
Seohu, without protest, picked up his spoon and began sipping the soup.
Compared to the past, he looked especially drained and depressed—and that tore at Hyun Dowoon’s nerves.
Why? Is it because he can’t speak?
Seohu had clashed with Kang Haeil, Kwon Seoyul, and even Mook Jeongho more times than he could count.
Even when things were rougher than today, he never gave in so easily.
…Is he sick or something?
Ever since dropping the knife, he seemed even more deflated. The way he scooped the soup was limp and listless.
“Hyung~ I cut the steak for you and you’re not even gonna take one bite?”
Even Kwon Seoyul seemed to sense something was off, coaxing him to eat more with exaggerated sweetness.
Kang Haeil, though spinning his wine in the air like he wasn’t paying attention, was clearly focused on Seohu.
I told you not to go too far…

Hyun Dowoon sighed deeply.
Thanks to Kwon Seoyul’s persistent coaxing, Cha Seohu managed to eat a few bites—barely enough to feed a bird—before putting down his spoon.
“Urgh…”
Covering his mouth and shaking his head, Seohu looked even paler than before. Kwon Seoyul, realizing he couldn’t push him further, regretfully moved the steak plate away.
Once Seohu was done eating, the other three—who’d never really cared about the food in the first place—also stopped.
“If you’re done, let’s get you back to bed.”
Kwon Seoyul stood, about to lift him again.
Seeing the servants clearing the dishes, Seohu shook his head. Then he gestured to Hyun Dowoon.
“Huh?”
Seohu pointed at the laptop he’d been using before Kwon Seoyul barged in.
With his tongue effectively paralyzed, the laptop was his only reliable means of communication. Kang Haeil seemed to understand that as well and made no move to interfere.
Once the laptop was placed before him, the clatter of dishes was joined by the sound of typing.
I’ll use the skill.
“…!”
The flat, mechanical voice made Hyun Dowoon’s eyes widen.
“Wait, what did you say?”
I said I’ll use the skill.
The unexpected declaration made both Kwon Seoyul and Kang Haeil turn to stare at him.
“All of a sudden~?”
It’s exhausting and annoying. It’s not like they’re going to release me after this anyway—whether it’s today or in a few days, it’s the same.
“Hmm. Fair enough~”
Kwon Seoyul glanced at Kang Haeil with a complicated expression.
He seemed pleased that Seohu ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) was finally cooperating, but also vaguely uneasy.
Kang Haeil looked about the same, arms crossed and lips pursed.
“Is that so? Then do it right now.”
Not today.
Seohu’s eyes darted around, scanning his surroundings.
At that moment, the servants finished clearing the dishes and left the room, pushing their trays. The knife beneath the table had been left behind.
Once they were gone, Seohu typed again.
I told you—it’s exhausting. My energy drain’s worse now that my rank went up. I’ll do it tomorrow.
Kang Haeil slowly tilted his head.
His icy blue eyes, now void of amusement, fixed sharply on Seohu.
Even under the piercing gaze, Seohu didn’t flinch. He calmly typed again.
Really. I’m exhausted. I’m not asking for a week—just tomorrow.
He let out a small, weary sigh.
His usual sharp gaze sagged, long lashes casting shadows filled with fatigue.
Soaked from head to toe, he looked even more pitiful.
Watching him, it was hard not to picture a stray cat trembling in the cold, huddled in a dark alley on a rainy winter night.
…?
It didn’t match the image of a grown adult man, but that stray cat wouldn’t leave Hyun Dowoon’s mind.
Am I finally going crazy?
As Hyun Dowoon pressed a hand to his forehead, Kwon Seoyul lunged at Seohu.
“Agh, you’re so fucking cute! If hyung is begging like this, let’s call it a day!”
He shouted while hugging Seohu tightly.
Seohu, suddenly embraced while still seated, glared at him in annoyance.
“Ugh. Lame.”
Kang Haeil muttered dryly.
Though he still seemed dissatisfied, he no longer looked like he wanted to push Seohu any further.
With a bored flick of his hand, Kang Haeil stood up. Instantly, Seohu’s body dried off, as did the soaked bed and floor around him.
“You said it yourself. You’d better keep your word.”
He left those parting words and walked out of the room.
Cha Seohu, shoulders finally relaxing slightly, began typing again.
I’m tired. I’m going to rest. Both of you, get out.
“…I’m assigned to monitor you. It’s an order—I can’t leave.”
“I’m a monitor too! Not by order, but I just want to~”
Rambling as he pleased, Kwon Seoyul hoisted Seohu up again.
“Let’s get you back to bed~!”
Seohu looked clearly uncomfortable being carried, but didn’t resist this time either.
He really must be in bad shape.
Hyun Dowoon grew more worried seeing Seohu so subdued.
***
Midnight, long after dark.
The room was lit only by soft moonlight filtering in through the window.
Cha Seohu, who had been pretending to sleep with slow, rhythmic breathing, finally opened his eyes.
Persistent bastards.
Hyun Dowoon lay beside him. Kwon Seoyul was curled up on the sofa.
They had refused to leave, even after he said he was tired and just wanted to sleep.
What, did someone smear honey on my room or something?
Hyun Dowoon had an excuse—orders. But what the hell was Kwon Seoyul’s deal? On any other day, he’d have gotten bored and gone off somewhere.
Cha Seohu carefully sat up, making sure not to make a sound.
Unfortunately, Kwon Seoyul was extremely sensitive to noise—making this even trickier.
Holding his breath, Seohu slipped out of bed and crept toward the table.
It was too dark to see anything with the naked eye. He reached under the table and felt around.
Soon enough, his fingers brushed against something cold and smooth.
The knife he’d dropped earlier caught the moonlight, gleaming faintly.
Smiling in satisfaction, Seohu opened his palm and placed the blade across it.
With both hands still cuffed, he had limited options for where to cut.
I have to do this fast.
He didn’t know when Kwon Seoyul might wake up.
Gripping the knife tightly, he dragged it across his other palm, pain radiating through the flesh.
Blood immediately welled up and trickled down.
And then—
“…Hyung?”
Kwon Seoyul sat up abruptly on the sofa.
At the same moment, a dark shadow surged violently from beneath Seohu’s feet.