Getting his first blowjob stolen by Jin Mu-seong was infuriating—but all things considered, it hadn’t turned out that badly.
Eun-jo, his expression changing yet again, slumped over helplessly.
“Ugh…”
The sound was barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to halt Jung Tae-seok in his tracks.
He tightened his careful grip around Eun-jo’s hand and looked down at him.
“What is it? Where does it hurt? Should I call a doctor?”
“No… it’s fine. There’s no need.”
Shaking his head slowly, Eun-jo continued.
“Can I just lie down in my room?”
His eyes met Tae-seok’s, filled with resignation, like someone who already knew exactly what was wrong. He lowered his gaze and muttered under his breath.
“I’m just tired. Just for a bit.”
“……”
“Let me rest… just a little.”
That faint, trembling smile was more heartbreaking than tears.
Looking like he might vanish at any moment, Eun-jo seemed so fragile that Jung Tae-seok could only pull him in tighter.
He wanted to rush him to the hospital immediately, but deep down, he knew—if he did that, Eun-jo might not survive the shock.
He’d already lost a lot of blood.
Meeting Eun-jo’s shaky gaze, Jung Tae-seok let out a heavy sigh.
“…Alright.”
He started walking. Slow, deliberate steps echoed down the hallway.
***
Day two of being possessed.
Finally, he’d made it into Yeo Eun-jo’s room.
“God, what a journey.”
The first day, he’d woken up in the Guiding Room. This morning, in Jung Tae-seok’s bedroom.
And after pulling a “please, I just want to be alone like the tragic protagonist of some explicit drama” move, he’d barely managed to kick Tae-seok out.
Yeo Eun-jo’s dorm was barebones. Two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a modest living room with a kitchen attached.
The strangest part? There was practically nothing in it.
“What kind of place is this?”
Aside from a sofa, a wardrobe, a desk, a bed, and a dining table, the place was empty.
It didn’t feel like someone lived here. More like stepping into a furnished model home—ready for show, but untouched.
When he opened the fridge, all he found were rows of bottled water lined up like soldiers.
“Is he some kind of hydration-obsessed fairy?”
Even a hastily thrown-together movie set would’ve looked more lived-in.
After checking the utterly empty cupboards, he headed into the bedroom.
In BL novels, the first thing a possessor did was study the original owner’s body.
Usually, they’d find clues from the people around them, the living space, or a diary. But in Yeo Eun-jo’s case, he didn’t even seem to have any friends.
“All I can rely on is his stuff.”
It took rummaging under the bed, digging through the desk drawers, and checking every corner before he finally found a cellphone and a pager.
Most fictional characters kept a diary, but Yeo Eun-jo was frustratingly realistic. Not even a scrap of one.
That left him with just the phone and pager.
Sitting down at the dining table, he picked them both up and, like analyzing a script, began carefully going through all of Eun-jo’s records.
Time passed.
After combing through his history for a while, he let out a groan.
This guy…
“…He’s such a damn pushover.”
If he had to summarize Yeo Eun-jo in one word, that would be it.
Objectively, Eun-jo wasn’t lacking. He’d awakened early as a B-rank Guide, which gave him more field experience than most his age. Sure, it sucked he wasn’t A-rank, but even B-rank Guides were rare—so it wasn’t exactly a flaw.
Not to mention the looks. He had the same face as his past self back when he was acting, so appearance-wise? Flawless. Assigned to Team A, his salary and bonuses were solid, too.
But the catch?
Kim Min-jae took every last bonus. And Eun-jo’s family had been siphoning off his salary for who-knows-how-long.
“…Goddamn.”
The training bonuses and hazard pay that should’ve been deposited? Nowhere to be found—not even listed in the records.
And his phone?
Flooded with texts from family.
Not a single thank you or you’re doing great. Just message after message demanding more money.
That’s when it finally made sense—why Yeo Eun-jo’s dorm looked so empty.
It wasn’t because he liked things tidy.
He was broke. He simply didn’t have the money to fill the space.
There was a time when he’d been the same.
As a child actor, he’d grown up with his parents managing all his earnings. Naturally, his paychecks had gone straight to them. Even after becoming an adult, that arrangement never really changed.
“Eun-jo, we’re thinking of transferring that building you had. You’re fine with that, right?”
“You’ve got tons of money. Don’t be stingy over something like this. A part-time job? I don’t have time for that, I’m studying.”
“You lent money to Uncle before, didn’t you? Just think of this as a gift this time.”
Their demands grew more brazen by the day.
The moment he realized there wasn’t even a single won left in his account, he cut them all off.
His mom. His dad. Even the sibling who’d never earned a cent in his life.
“…Yeo Eun-jo really had it rough.”
In the original novel, it said Eun-jo had joined Team A for the money.
He’d done it for his family—to support them, to take care of them. Grinding down his own body, bleeding himself dry, just to keep them fed.
The thought made his chest ache.
Eun-jo clenched the phone tightly in his hand.
There were things the original Yeo Eun-jo hadn’t been able to do. But he could.
“I’ll handle it. All of it.”
He stared into the reflection on the glass table. His voice came out calm and steady.
“This time, I won’t let it end in a pointless death. I’ll change the story.”
He wasn’t going to die like the original did.
No matter how he ended up in this body—He was going to rewrite the ending.
***
A Team Guide’s duties were simple:
Follow the team for outside missions like training and gates, and regularly perform Guiding sessions with team members.
But with everyone except Jung Tae-seok away on an overseas dispatch, there was practically nothing to do.
Thanks to that, Eun-jo had a free morning.
The first thing he did after leaving the dorm? Visit the bank inside the Center.
“Welcome, sir!”
The teller gave him a bright, professional smile.
“How can I assist you today?”
Returning the smile, Eun-jo reached into his bag.
What he pulled out were all the bankbooks he’d dug up during his overnight rummage.
He slid them across the counter.
“I’d like to close every single one of these.”
“All of them, sir?”
The teller looked surprised, quickly tapping away on her keyboard before turning the screen toward him.
“These are all the accounts currently under your name. Are you sure you want to close them all?”
“I’m sure.”
“Your salary is deposited into one of these, and you’ve got a lot of automatic transfers set up…”
In other words, there were a lot of mouths drinking through straws he didn’t know were stuck in his wallet.
Still, Eun-jo nodded without hesitation.
“It’s fine. Close them all. And open a new account for my salary.”
“Would you like me to transfer the auto-payments over to the new account as well?”
“No. That won’t be necessary.”
Outside of living expenses and his phone bill, there wasn’t going to be anything left to auto-pay.
His tone was so firm, the teller didn’t press further. She simply got to work shutting down every account.
“You’ve been making a lot of transfers,” she murmured, scanning the records.
Eun-jo had nearly fainted the night before while reviewing the transactions himself.
His salary vanished the second it came in, diverted to dozens of accounts. Credit card payments, debit charges—everything being used by his family, all paid under his name. He was the one working his ass off, and yet it was his freeloading family living it up like royalty.
The only saving grace? Everything was still legally under Yeo Eun-jo’s name.
He may not have been able to stop it before…
But now that he was here—inside this body—he wasn’t going to let it continue.
With a brand new salary account and a single debit card in hand, Eun-jo stepped out of the bank. And for the first time in a long while, he felt like he could breathe.
