Since he showed no sign of calling him by name unless properly introduced, Yeonwoo let out a sigh.
“Kang Yeonwoo.”
[So your name is Yeonwoo.]
“No need for honorifics. Just call me Yeonwoo.”
[How could I dare drop the ‘sir’ with an angel…?]
“But you said you’d call me by my name.”
[Oh, right.]
“Go ahead and say it however’s easiest. Please.”
He really hoped so. Having one of the nation’s top stars—someone whose mere appearance on TV could send the whole country into a buzz—use an honorific like “sir” or “Mr.” for him felt uncomfortable. And if that carried over after he woke up—if the public heard Kwon Sunghyun call him “Mr. Yeonwoo”? He might end up getting pelted with stones. It was unsettling to think about.
[All right. Then I’ll call you Yeonwoo-ssi.]
“That’s perfect.”
[I’m curious: how exactly do I return to my body?]
[All you have to do is grab that thread, lie on top of your body, and match yourself up! Once you’re near your body, it’ll sort of suck you right in, like magnets snapping together!] *baby ghost speaking
[Then… won’t I be able to come back out again? That’s a little disappointing…]
“It’s not natural for a living soul to leave its body.”
[Right. Makes sense…]
Kwon Sunghyun nodded again.
[Then once I’m back, I won’t be able to see you or Dongja-ssi anymore, will I?]
[Well, you can still see Yeonwoo if your spiritual eyes remain open, but you probably won’t see me. You said you’ve never seen ghosts, so you’re probably not fully awakened. You’ll most likely lose sight of me…]
[That’s a shame.]
[Ahhh, my dear actor… you’d miss me? That’s unacceptable! Don’t worry, I’ll figure out a way. Or we’ll bug Yeonwoo if we have to…]
What was there to miss about a chatterbox baby ghost? Yeonwoo listened to their conversation, feeling a headache grow. It throbbed more and more.
I need to hurry and put him back so I can get away. Otherwise, I might go insane.
Just as Yeonwoo’s suffering peaked, they finally arrived at the large hospital.
“O-oh, you’re here! How did it go? You found our Sunghyun, right?”
“Yes.”
That simple reply lit up the faces of Chairman Woo, his wife, and Han Su-han.
“Please be quiet. The crucial part starts now. Mr. Kwon Sunghyun, get close to your body.”
[So… I was here all along… I really was alive.]
Sounding as though seeing himself for the first time, Kwon Sunghyun muttered while staring at his own unconscious form on the bed.
[So I just approach, yes?]
“Lie down so your spirit lines up with your body. Don’t forget to hold on to that thread in one hand.”
[This is so incredible. Like actual magic.]
He then turned to Yeonwoo, as if struck by a thought.
[Thank you, Yeonwoo. You saved my life.]
“No, there’s really no need—”
[Thank you.]
Kwon Sunghyun’s fingertips gently touched his body. That was when it all began.
Starting from his fingertips, moving up his wrist and forearm, it looked as though his spiritual form was getting absorbed by the physical one lying on the bed. The stretched-out thread glowed and gradually disappeared.
As soon as each part of his spirit merged with his body:
BEEP—BEEP—BEEP!
The devices hooked up to Kwon Sunghyun detected the changes and emitted a cacophony of alarms.
His long, outstretched fingers flinched slightly—enough for everyone to see it.
“Did you see that?! Sunghyun’s fingers just moved, didn’t they?”
“Quick, get the doctor! We need a proper examination!”
“I’ve already hit the nurse call. They’ll be here right away.”
Even Kwon Heera, who’d been remaining calm, now wore an elated expression. Moments later, a group of white-coated doctors rushed in, checking his condition.
“Check the EKG!”
“Vitals? Do we have any data on record?”
“All stats are stable!”
Though it was a spacious VVIP room, the sudden influx of a dozen staffers made it feel chaotic. But none of it registered with Yeonwoo. The reason was simple:
Ding!
[Hidden Mission Successful!]
[You have perfectly fulfilled the hidden mission: “Lift the Penalty!”]
[The incorrect path has been corrected!]
[You have successfully completed a hidden mission, so the first penalty is lifted!]
Ding!
[Now that the first penalty is lifted, some of your reduced lifespan is restored.]
[Remaining Grace Period: 47 days]
A sudden notification popped up—one that signaled the solution to the problem that had been haunting Yeonwoo’s nerves all this time.
Yeonwoo’s face went slack, as if he’d taken a blow. Penalty lifted. Exactly what he wanted. Plus…
What’s this hidden mission? It says the ‘wrong path has been corrected’?!
A barrage of baffling messages kept popping up.
Why is the penalty undone right now?
His lifespan, which had been at 23 days, was suddenly restored to 47. That was a gain of 24 days.
The only thing I’ve done is put Kwon Sunghyun’s soul back into his body…
And right then, it declared he’d cleared a hidden mission. The moment Kwon Sunghyun’s living spirit merged with his body, a notification said the wrong path was corrected.
“…”
Yeonwoo glanced at Kwon Sunghyun. He didn’t need anyone to say it—this system wanted something from Kwon Sunghyun. For what? And in what way?
So… running away is out of the question, huh?
He absolutely had to figure out why helping Kwon Sunghyun had triggered the removal of his penalty. His head started throbbing again.
It’ll be fine if he doesn’t remember anything from being a living spirit.
Alas, Yeonwoo’s hope didn’t come true.
“Sunghyun! Are you conscious?!”
Chairman Woo shouted without regard for appearances.
“Mmm…”
A low, pleasant voice reverberated through the hospital room. Instantly, everyone froze, fixating on Kwon Sunghyun’s slightly twitching eyes.
“…Where am I…?”
“This is a hospital, Sunghyun. Are you okay? How do you feel?”
“…My head’s a bit fuzzy.”
His eyelids fluttered, those long lashes fanning. As he blinked blearily, his vacant gaze roamed around for a moment before finally settling on Yeonwoo.
Despite still looking frail, his well-maintained red lips parted:
“Angel…?”
And with that, Yeonwoo’s tiny hope shattered completely.
Kwon Sunghyun. One of Korea’s most recognized top stars. Over ten years in the industry, beginning as a child actor, with superb acting skills to back him up. He’d already starred in over seven films that each drew ten million viewers. He didn’t have any single “representative work” because with every film, he delivered a new career-best performance.
No one doubted his solid acting chops, and he also boasted a face so chiseled you’d think the gods had sculpted it. Truly “he has it all.” On top of that, he was known for an upright temperament—no dirty scandals, no allegations of abusing power or poor behavior. In over a decade, not one problematic news story.
However:
Ding!
[You have successfully harvested lifespan.]
[Lifespan acquired: 2 days]
Ding!
[You have successfully harvested lifespan.]
[Lifespan acquired: 1 day]
Ding!
[You have successfully harvested lifespan.]
[Lifespan acquired: 3 days]
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
…
“…”
Yeonwoo realized: Kwon Sunghyun wasn’t “normal.”
It started with a request from Kwon Heera:
“Yeonwoo, could you please help our Sunghyun if you don’t mind?”
She explained calmly about Kwon Sunghyun’s unusual childhood:
“You may already know from him, but Sunghyun was a bit different from others, even when he was little. He was no ordinary child. He might remind you a bit of yourself…”
Not only was Kwon Sunghyun incredibly lucky; more accurately, he was resilient in the face of “bad luck.” Places he was warned not to go. Dreams about people getting hurt. He wasn’t exactly seeing the dead, but still far from the ordinary.
“He was less troubled by that sort of thing once he entered show business, but…”
But this latest incident brought back memories she’d tried to bury.
“Yeonwoo, you said Sunghyun has a special power. I’m so worried how that power might affect him. If you don’t mind… could you look after him?”
Yeonwoo had always been weak to women of “mom-age,” especially when they were pleading on behalf of their children. So he found himself agreeing, somewhat by accident.
Anyway, I did need to keep an eye on Kwon Sunghyun.
After all, that “first penalty” had been lifted the moment he reunited Kwon Sunghyun’s spirit and body. It proved that saving Kwon Sunghyun was the “correct route.”
If there’s a first penalty, that means there’s probably a second…
He had to figure out the condition for removing that second penalty. Observing Kwon Sunghyun—who’d been central to lifting the first penalty—felt necessary.
But:
What is with this guy?
Before he could even figure out the penalty condition, a bizarre situation unfolded.
“Yeonwoo, could I have your phone number?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your number. May I have it?”
“Why do you need it?”
At Yeonwoo’s reluctant tone, Kwon Sunghyun flashed a gentle smile.
“I want to know more about my lifesaver, obviously.”
“…”
Even though he didn’t say “angel,” Yeonwoo still felt goosebumps. Because Yeonwoo hesitated, something unbelievable happened.
Ding!
A cheerful sound rang out.
[Harvestable Lifespan: +2 days]
“…?”
But wasn’t a “desperate or deep-rooted wish” the only kind that manifested as a request tied to lifespan? Why was simply asking for Yeonwoo’s phone number enough to stake part of his life on?
Well… free lifespan is free lifespan.
Two days. Forty-eight hours—enough to accomplish a lot.
So Yeonwoo accepted.
And similar things kept happening to this day.
“Yeonwoo, which fruit would you like—strawberries, oranges, or apples?”
Kwon Sunghyun asked, all smiles.
“I’m fine.”
“Really? It’s important to get your vitamins.”
“I said I’m fine. And you should stop trying to peel those. You’re not even good at it.”
“I might improve with practice. I feel bad keeping you cooped up indoors because of me, so I was thinking you should at least get some vitamins if you’re not getting sunlight…”
Ding!
A bright chime sounded.
[Harvestable Lifespan: +2 days]
A notification popped up over Kwon Sunghyun’s head again.
Ugh, this is getting insane.
Collecting that lifespan was simple.
All Yeonwoo had to do was humor the ridiculous “requests” of a man who insisted on feeding him fruit or fussing over him. And that meant free lifespan.
Not that he minded free lifespan. He had no reason to refuse. Each “wish” was trivial. But…
I feel like I’m suddenly raising a giant dog. And not just any dog, but Korea’s top star….
When those wide, innocent eyes turned on him pleadingly, Yeonwoo remembered the country dogs he’d seen long ago. Except, no, Kwon Sunghyun fit more of a golden retriever image—purebred, not a mutt.
People really are mysteries until you get to know them.
No one would believe it—who’d believe that the nation’s top actor is such a “dog-like” human?
And to clarify, he didn’t mean that as an insult.
Though he doesn’t come off as a total pushover, either…
Strangely enough, Kwon Sunghyun was sharp. He might not know about the system or the little “lifespan” numbers, but he’d already noticed that Yeonwoo wouldn’t reject his requests. And he was making full use of that fact.
He had no clue about the system’s existence, yet he wielded it better than anyone, feeding Yeonwoo’s meter each time.
Was it Yeonwoo’s imagination, or was the system way too generous to this guy?
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