Yandere Monster Evolution: My Blind Wife Will Become a Demonic Queen

Chapter 115: A Plan

—Woo Jin’s POV—

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting pale white streaks across the floor of my room.

Unlike yesterday, my head felt clear—the heavy, throbbing fog of the flu had finally receded overnight, leaving only a faint dryness at the back of my throat.

I shifted slightly, intending to stretch my arms and roll out of bed, but a sudden, localized warmth pinned the fabric of my shirt to my side.

I paused, blinking away the last remnants of sleep, and looked down over my shoulder.

Viora was curled up directly against my back. Her left arm was still wrapped tightly around my waist, and her small fingers were clutching the material of my clothes as if she were holding onto a lifeline in the middle of a storm.

The memory of the previous night flashed through my mind. I remembered the faint creak of the doorknob, the silent, hesitant footsteps approaching the bed, and the way she had buried her face into my back, whispering for me not to turn around.

At the time, I had been too groggy to fully process the sheer desperation in her grip, but looking at her now, the reality of it hit me.

Realizing that Viora had spent the last night with me because she was scared of a dream, a small, helpless chuckle escaped my lips.

"Seriously," I whispered under my breath, careful not to disturb her rest.

I didn’t try to pull away. Instead, I carefully turned my hand over, wrapping my fingers around hers where they rested against my stomach.

Her skin was still a bit warm from the lingering effects of the fever, but her pulse was steady and calm. I just lay there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, letting the quiet warmth of the morning settle over us. It was a rare, peaceful moment in a world that was constantly trying to tear itself apart at the seams.

But as the minutes ticked by, my mind inevitably drifted back to the reality waiting outside these walls.

The twenty-third. At 8:00 PM. I was supposed to stand at the coordinates Black had scribbled down on that piece of paper.

The clock was ticking, and my system quest—the one demanding I uncover his true identity—was dangerously close to its deadline.

I leaned my head back against the pillow, my eyes narrowing as I replayed everything I knew about the man.

He had a wife who scolded him for being late, and a little daughter named Yuna who loved the ocean. He was a man with everything to lose.

But knowing his weakness wasn’t the same as having a solid tactical advantage in a dark, isolated Gate sector. If Black decided to drop the doting father persona the moment we stepped away from civilization, a direct clash would be inevitable.

And in a pure contest of raw power, even with Viora at my side, the margin for error was thin. I needed to overthink him. I needed to manipulate the parameters of the meeting before he could even draw his weapon.

I began to analyze the coordinates he had left behind. The numbers pointed to a specific, abandoned industrial zone near the northern edge of the city—a place notorious for the appearance of unstable, low-ranked Gates that the Association hadn’t gotten around to sealing yet. It was the perfect place for a quiet execution.

And then, like a sudden spark in a dark room, a memory from the original novel text popped straight into my mind.

’The Northern Fractures.’

My eyes went wide beneath my bangs, and my heart skipped a beat. I remembered it perfectly. In the text, that specific industrial sector wasn’t just an empty wasteland.

It was a specific node linked to an upcoming anomaly—a Gate structure that the Association wouldn’t detect for another forty-eight hours. Black wasn’t just inviting me to a chat; he was planning to drag me into an environment where the rules of standard Hunter tracking didn’t apply, a place where a rookie wearing a grocery bag could vanish without a single trace.

A grin spread across my face. ’You think you’re the only one who knows how to manipulate a raid environment, Adrian?’

If he wanted an isolated battlefield, I was going to give him a public spectacle. He wanted to catch me alone, but I was about to bring the absolute worst kind of company straight to his doorstep.

If the zone required a specific density of high-frequency mana signatures to prevent a total collapse, then the solution was remarkably simple. I just needed to bring company. I needed to turn his private execution ground into a highly public, crowded social gathering.

Gently, without waking her, I slid my hand away from Viora’s grip and reached for my phone on the nightstand. I needed to make a few calls. To pull this off, I needed individuals whose strength was high enough to survive the Gate where Black was dragging me, but who were independent enough from the Association to keep their mouths shut.

I looked down at Viora, who let out a soft, sleepy sigh and shifted closer to the empty space I had just vacated. I patted the top of her head with a faint smile.

"Wake up, lazy monster," I whispered. "We have a party to plan."

....

<The Next Day><23rd>

By 7:45 PM, the sky had turned into a thick, ink-black void, and the cold wind of the rainy season was whistling through the rusted iron girders of the abandoned industrial plant. The air smelled of wet concrete and oil.

I stood in the middle of the empty, cracked ground, adjusting the edges of my paper bag mask.

Beside me, Viora stood with her hands buried in the pockets of her dark pants, and resting squarely over her short hair was her own matching paper bag.

"Woo Jin," Viora’s muffled voice echoed from beneath the paper structure. She tilted her head toward me, the brown fabric rustling loudly in the wind. "Why are we wearing these ridiculous things again? We literally ate cake at his dining table two days ago. He knows exactly what our faces look like."

I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, checking the timer on my phone screen.

"Because, Viora, today we aren’t Woo Jin and Viora. Today, we are the mysterious masked duo who surprised everyone in a C-Rank Gate. It’s about maintaining the brand. Besides, it irritates him, and anything that irritates him is a tactical win for us."

Viora let out a sweet, amused giggle from behind her bag.

"You are incredibly petty, Mr. Dumb."

Before I could respond, the air pressure in the courtyard suddenly dropped. The small puddles of rainwater on the concrete ground began to vibrate, the liquid rippling outward in perfect, concentric circles as a heavy, crushing force descended from the shadows of the main warehouse entrance.

’There he is.’