“My body… it has no strength at all.”
Lee Haru lay motionless, eyes wide open as he stared at an unfamiliar ceiling. Every small movement made the distinct crinkling sound of plastic beneath him.
A musty, stale scent laced with dust brushed past his nose. He considered getting up to clean, but the thought never turned into action.
Just minutes ago, he’d tried to sit up, only to collapse again as dizziness overtook him.
“That wasn’t my memory.”
Even moving was impossible. Sinking deeper into the mattress, Lee Haru calmly traced back the events before he lost his memory.
He’d nearly fainted when Hong Seong-jun suddenly began unbuckling his belt right in front of him.
From the moment he realized he’d transmigrated into a Guide’s body, he’d anticipated that he’d have to guide Espers. But he never imagined his very first guiding session would involve being forced to give a blowjob.
According to the rumors, Lee Haru guided S-Class Espers by recklessly using his body. He had foolishly assumed that if he played it smart, he could avoid the worst. That naïveté had been his first mistake.
The flood of memories that had crashed into his head clearly belonged to the Lee Haru he now inhabited.
That cold, merciless voice. The burning pain in his throat. The hollow, drained sensation—as if something vital had been sucked out of him.
Not a single memory was pleasant.
The voice had sounded oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
“This has to be one of those fucked-up, angsty worlds… I’m seriously screwed…”
Groaning, Lee Haru tugged at his silky hair. The plotlines of all the twisted novels he’d read crowded his mind.
He didn’t know what role Lee Haru played in this story. But judging from how Hong Seong-jun had treated him, and the fragments of memory that had resurfaced, one thing was certain—he was definitely not the top.
Which meant he was very likely the one on the receiving end. Repeatedly.
A cold chill crept down his spine as he recalled the endless suffering the ukes in those bleak stories endured.
And every one of the men he was entangled with now was an S-Class Esper—beings far beyond anything Lee Haru could handle.
To make things worse, this body was even weaker than his original one. The realization made his vision dim.
“Why the hell did I cough up blood?”
The sensation had been similar to vomiting, but also different.
The metallic stench of blood made him gag, and the way his insides twisted like they were being wrung out was so horrifying he never wanted to experience it again.
On top of it all, there was the splitting headache—like hundreds of needles stabbing into his brain.
Even though he had a decent pain threshold, the sudden onslaught of agony had left him completely defenseless.
When he dragged a hand down his face, dried blood crumbled away like dust. Just remembering that Hong Seong-jun had left him lying there—bloodied and unconscious—made his teeth grind in fury.
“I’m starving…”
But even anger required energy—something he no longer had. With a weak effort, Lee Haru lifted his eyes.
Through the window, he could see the sun had fully set. In its place, the moon hung pale and high in the sky.
Judging by how hungry he felt, he figured it hadn’t been a full day since he passed out. He’d arrived at the mansion around 10 a.m., so it was probably close to 10 p.m. now.
He strained his ears for any sign of movement. Silence. The mansion was deathly quiet.
This was the first floor. If there were Espers on the second floor, he should at least hear footsteps—but nothing.
“Let’s eat first. Then deal with the rest.”
Lee Haru decided to keep things simple. Wasting energy worrying about things he couldn’t control would only wear him out further.
He still didn’t know why the memories had resurfaced so suddenly. And they were too fragmented for him to even guess which bastard had treated him like garbage.
Right now, what mattered most was quieting the hunger tearing at his gut.
He needed to wash the dried blood off his face. Then, once he had something to eat and got a bit of strength back, he could clean up this dusty room.
His old place had been just as small, but he’d kept it spotless—there hadn’t been so much as a speck of dust on the window sills.
A clean space fosters a clear mind. That had always been one of his mottos. With that in mind, he pushed himself off the bed. His body staggered as he stood, wobbling. Groaning, he shuffled toward the door.
“Hello…?”
He opened the door and cautiously called out. The hallway was even darker than when Hong Seong-jun had first led him through it. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes.
He hurriedly flipped on the light switch in the room.
“…What the hell is wrong with this thing?”
Click. Click—
He flicked the switch again and again, but the room stayed cloaked in shadows. If not for the moonlight filtering in through the large window, he might’ve actually cried.
Resigned, Lee Haru opened the door wide and stepped into the hallway.
“Ugh, seriously…”
These people had money—so why stick him in a room where the lights didn’t even work? And at the very end of a dim corridor, no less?
In horror movies, it was always rooms like this where all the creepy, cursed shit happened.
The room felt like someone else had been in there with him. The unease pushed him into the hallway faster.
But the corridor was even darker, and before he realized it, he was nearly running toward the far end.
Maybe it was just because it was nighttime, but every step echoed louder than it had during the day. As if someone were chasing him, Lee Haru whipped his head around, then hurried toward the living room.
Whether those damn Espers were asleep or not didn’t matter. Right now, the only thing on his mind was banishing the oppressive darkness from this mansion—this place that loomed like it owned the night.
The living room, the kitchen, the dining room—every corner was swallowed in shadow. A chill ran up his spine, soaking the back of his neck with cold sweat.
Click—
“Haa…”
He finally found a switch. Thankfully, this one actually worked. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling flared to life, casting bright light across the room.
The simple act of pushing back the darkness made Lee Haru feel like he’d just cleared a major hurdle.
With that small victory, the hunger he’d pushed aside came roaring back, more intense than ever. He flipped on the lights in the kitchen and dining room before heading to the fridge.
“Oh. At least there’s food.”
When he’d first woken up here, the fridge had held nothing but bottled water, forcing him to leave the house just to find something to eat.
Fortunately, there’d been a restaurant right on the first floor. If this place had been out in the sticks with no convenience stores or diners nearby, he would’ve been in real trouble.
That’s how important mealtimes were to Lee Haru—an unshakable pillar of his daily life.
“What should I eat? That looks good. So does that… Honestly, everything looks amazing.”
The fridge was packed with a variety of pre-made meals. Perfect. He was starving—if he had to prep ingredients and cook right now, his patience would’ve run out in seconds.
“Why am I even debating this? I’m starving. I’ll just eat everything.”
Faced with fried rice, spaghetti, and sweet-and-spicy chicken, Lee Haru came to a swift, satisfying decision.
After puking up what felt like a bowl of blood earlier, his stomach was probably more than ready to stretch itself out.
He grabbed all three, shoved them into the microwave at once, and hit the start button. While they heated, he turned on the faucet and gave his face a quick rinse.
Reddish water spiraled down the drain. The sight wasn’t exactly pleasant, but the aroma wafting from the microwave was so rich, it made even that scene feel oddly tolerable.
“Even the blood looks kinda pretty.”
Something about it felt different from his own—clearer somehow, like it had a purer quality to it.
Just as he finished scrubbing the dried blood off his face, the microwave beeped.
The thought of finally eating stirred an unexpected surge of energy. He yanked the microwave door open and reached straight in, still clouded with steam.
“Shit—hot! That’s seriously hot!”
Why the hell was it this hot?
These containers were supposed to be engineered so the edges didn’t burn your hands. Hasn’t someone tested that? He hadn’t counted on the fact that this body clearly lacked any heat tolerance.
As soon as he set the first dish on the table, he grabbed his ear. His earlobe burned, flushed with heat.
He’d scorched himself for real. He glanced around, hoping to spot a towel or oven mitt, but there was nothing. Left with no other option, he yanked up his shirt.
“Ugh, even this doesn’t help much.”
A thin T-shirt wasn’t enough to protect his fingers, but gritting his teeth, he pulled the remaining two dishes out and set them on the table.
“That looks amazing…”
As he tore open the plastic packaging, the glossy sheen of the food was revealed, still piping hot and glistening. This didn’t look like anything from a convenience store—maybe it had been ordered from somewhere.
Everything from the presentation to the smell screamed restaurant-quality. His mouth filled with saliva, and he swallowed instinctively.
He should find some chopsticks—but the craving hit too fast. He couldn’t wait. He needed to try at least one piece of that chicken right now.
He powered through the heat, grabbed a piece, and popped it into his mouth.
The sweet and spicy glaze clung perfectly to the crispy chicken. As he bit down, the meat softened and released its flavor, saturating his mouth—and at that very moment, a sound cut through the air.
A sound that absolutely shouldn’t be there.
“Uugh… oiya…?”
He needed to focus on this delicious chicken. But that sound—what he’d just heard—was impossible to ignore.
His eyes went wide, blooming pale like a white flower in shock.
