Yeon Yiseo, debating whether to eat another one, eventually set the cookie back down. Maybe it was because he’d lost his appetite, but he just didn’t feel like eating anymore. He figured he’d grab something simple to eat on his way home—just as someone walked into the break room.
“Oh? Yiseo? Weren’t you on sick leave today?”
It was Alex, who’d spotted him immediately.
“I was, but something urgent came up, so I dropped by.”
“I guess… if you could’ve asked someone else, you wouldn’t have come yourself.”
Alex trailed off with an awkward smile.
“I should get back now.”
As Yeon Yiseo turned to leave, a familiar binder sitting on Natalie’s desk caught his eye.
“Oh, no way…”
He approached to take a closer look and immediately clapped a hand over his mouth. No wonder it looked familiar—it was the documentation they had prepared for the new product launch.
It was a set of essential files for today’s presentation. For Natalie to have forgotten something so important—this wasn’t like her. She must’ve been completely overwhelmed, scrambling to cover for Yeon Yiseo’s absence yesterday and today.
Without hesitation, Yeon Yiseo called Natalie.
“Natalie?”
—“Yiseo? How are you feeling? Any better?”
“I’m okay. But Natalie—have you checked the product spec documents?”
—“The documents? Hang on a sec… oh my god. No. No no no. I left them behind.”
“Well, I just happen to be at the office right now. I’ll bring them to you. Could you wait outside the venue for me?”
—“Oh my god… there is a god. Okay. Thank you so much, Yiseo.”
When the call ended, he checked the time. The launch hadn’t started yet. If he left now, he’d make it with time to spare. Without a second thought, Yeon Yiseo grabbed the folder and flagged down a taxi. Normally, he’d never use one—it was too costly—but this wasn’t a normal situation.
Technically, he wasn’t even in good enough shape to be going to a venue at all. Was this what the “force of the original plot” felt like? He couldn’t say he hadn’t hoped for something like this, even just a little.
But of course, things didn’t go smoothly. As if fate were piling one disaster on top of another, there’d been an accident on the road, causing major traffic. Stuck in the cab, Yeon Yiseo kept glancing at the GPS until it showed he was about 3 km from the venue—then he jumped out and started running.
Under normal circumstances, it’d be a short run. But this was not normal. His body still felt like it was made of lead, weighing him down with every step. The one chocolate cookie he’d eaten was clearly not enough—his stomach pain was back, worse than before.
Clutching his side with one hand, running on instinct alone, Yeon Yiseo ended up bumping into someone on the street.
“Ah—! Crap. I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine. It’s my fault—I wasn’t looking while checking my phone.”
Relieved at the answer, Yeon Yiseo scrambled to pick up the documents that had scattered across the pavement.
“Looks important?”
The man who’d collided with him picked up a sheet that had blown further away and handed it over. Yeon Yiseo nodded, taking it back with a quick thank you.
“Yeah, really important. I’m kind of in a rush, actually. I’m really sorry again. If you’re feeling any discomfort—”
“Oh—no, nothing like that. You should go. Quickly.”
“Thank you!”
Clutching the folder to his chest, Yeon Yiseo ran again. His breath came in sharp bursts. His vision started to blur. But worst of all was the searing pain in his stomach—it felt like someone was scraping his insides with a towel made of thorns. He felt nauseous. He bit his lower lip so hard it bled.
Only once his breath was ragged and his lungs felt like they were being ripped open did he finally reach the venue. There, waiting outside in what had to be 8cm heels, was Natalie, running toward him the moment she saw his sweat-soaked face.
“Oh my god, Yiseo. Look at you—you’re drenched. Are you okay?”
“I’m—huff—fine. Haah. Please, take this. You’re still—haa—on time.”
“Thank you! You saved my life. I swear I’ll make this up to you.”
As he watched her dash up the stairs and disappear into the building, Yeon Yiseo crumpled to the ground. He could feel the stares of passersby. Dressed in track pants among a crowd of suits, slumped on the ground and gasping for air—of course he stood out.
He knew it, but he couldn’t move. His strength was completely gone. His lungs felt like they were being torn apart just from breathing. He told himself he just needed to rest for a bit. He’d done what the original plot required by showing up at the venue—but maybe that was it. Maybe he was done. He hadn’t expected to go inside anyway, but somehow, it still felt a little… hollow.
His heart was pounding violently, breath harsh and unsteady. He thought—absently, vaguely—that this must be what a fish feels like, freshly pulled from water, thrashing helplessly.
As his thoughts went fuzzy and his vision blurred even further, he started to realize something was seriously wrong.
Thump. Thump.
The pounding in his chest—something wasn’t right. He was going to collapse. He didn’t even have money to pay for a hospital.
While that useless thought lingered in his mind, his strength gave out. The world around him faded to black.
***
It was warm. Soft. The plush texture of the blanket was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.
“…Mmm.”
Yeon Yiseo opened heavy eyes. A strange ceiling greeted him.
Where was he? What had happened? As his thoughts came into focus, he finally remembered—his last memory was of collapsing outside the product launch venue.
But… where the hell was this?
As he looked around, he noticed the steady drip, drip of an IV.
Shit. Was this a hospital?
Yeon Yiseo bolted upright. He couldn’t afford hospital bills. How much were they going to charge him?
Frowning deeply, he tried calling for someone—but the room was far too big for a typical hospital. And it certainly didn’t feel like one. The furnishings were too luxurious. Outfitting a room like this as a hospital suite would cost a fortune.
The bed was enormous. The room itself was enormous. His fear of the bill grew with each passing second.
Wasn’t there anyone he could ask? Just as Yeon Yiseo was about to climb out of bed, someone entered the room—a tall, middle-aged man in a cozy sweater. The brown horn-rimmed glasses made him look gentle, even approachable.
“Ah, don’t get up just yet.”
“Um… where exactly am I?”
The man, now at his bedside checking the IV drip, answered calmly.
“This is the CEO’s private suite. I’m Caine, the attending physician for the Scott family.”
“…What?”
Scott? Did he just say Scott? And the CEO’s private suite?
Wait—what was going on?
Yeon Yiseo frowned in confusion. This was exactly how it had played out in the original. Was this how he ended up getting involved with Ethan? Was this the “plot force” in action again?
He felt a strange mix of bewilderment and unease creeping up his spine.
“Um… what about the bill?”
“Pardon? Oh, the CEO said he would handle it. No need to worry.”
The warm smile on Caine’s face instantly calmed him. Yeon Yiseo had been terrified at the thought of being charged. He figured maybe this was just Ethan being kind—after all, he was Ethan’s secretary.
It felt like all the hard work he’d done at the company was finally being rewarded.
“How are you feeling? Is your body still heavy? Any pain?”
“No, I feel fine now.”
“Let’s take your temperature, just to be sure.”
Beep. The thermometer chirped. 37.7°C. Still a slight fever, but compared to the 39+ he’d had before, this felt like flying.
“Your fever’s come down a lot. Looks like you’re recovering well. That’s good.”
“Where’s the CEO? I’d like to thank him.”
As if answering his words, the door opened—and someone stepped inside.
Naturally, Yeon Yiseo turned, assuming it was Ethan—and froze completely.
“How are you feeling?”
“…”
He couldn’t answer. Just stared blankly. The man didn’t seem to expect a response. Instead, he turned to Caine.
Caine, clearly picking up on the unspoken cue, responded immediately.
“Ah, yes. His fever has gone down and his condition’s improved significantly.”
Yeon Yiseo blinked, wondering if the man before him was really who he thought he was.
This wasn’t Ethan.
But Caine hadn’t been wrong. He was a member of the Scott family—and a CEO.
Alexander A. Scott. Ethan’s older brother.
Ethan handled electronics. Alexander managed defense industries.
“You definitely look much better now.”
That comment snapped Yeon Yiseo out of it—and made him realize he’d been staring, borderline rude.
Alexander was 31, two years older than Ethan, and just as capable—a prominent figure mentioned in the game.
