“Hoo… This system is so unfriendly. Would it kill them to explain clearly?”
They sure are a high-and-mighty system, Yeonwoo thought.
[*Some items cannot be viewed right now.]
[*Detailed information about this individual is hidden.]
If they’re going to show him, they might as well go all the way, not just test the waters. He was still curious about that previously mentioned “Additional Harvestable Stat Points” too.
Could it be… something I obtain from the target’s specialties?
That seemed like a plausible guess. Yeonwoo’s gaze shifted to Kwon Sunghyun. He was struggling to peel an apple with clumsy knife-work, probably because he’d always eaten fruit someone else had peeled for him. Realizing Yeonwoo was watching, Kwon Sunghyun gave him another bright, guileless smile.
Anyway, that guy’s list of specialties was ridiculously flashy.
Even from that quick glimpse, he’d seen more than five specialties. And the accompanying grades had all been outstanding. If he recalled correctly, every single one but one was S-rank. Compared to that C– specialty belonging to that no-name actor Jeong Something-or-other, it was on a whole different level.
If I could obtain a top star’s special skill, that’d be awesome, right?
He didn’t know exactly what effect it might have, but it sure sounded good.
Ignorant of Yeonwoo’s private musings, Kwon Sunghyun grinned widely and held out a plate of freshly cut apple.
“Yeonwoo, here. It’s really delicious.”
A three-year-old child could probably peel better than this. Yeonwoo stared at the result—he couldn’t tell if the peeling was supposed to remove just the skin or whether Kwon Sunghyun had aimed to leave only the seeds. Anyway, Yeonwoo accepted the plate.
Ding!
[You have successfully harvested lifespan.]
[Harvested Lifespan: 2 days]
Yeonwoo’s thoughts spun yet again: This guy definitely isn’t normal… but all the same, I need to keep an eye on him.
It had been two days since Kwon Sunghyun woke up.
“Yeonwoo, do you have a moment?”
The call he’d been expecting finally arrived.
“Yes. Did you find Jeong Chulwoo?”
“Indeed. That fellow turned out even more rotten than I’d imagined.”
After Yeonwoo received the penalty, he’d asked Han Su-han to investigate Jeong Chulwoo—the cause of said penalty—using his connections. Apparently, they’d found something.
“That scumbag has been rolling around the entertainment underbelly for ages. There are all sorts of nasty rumors about him, and apparently he’s racked up so many enemies that finding him was no trouble at all. He’s a real piece of trash. You know where I finally tracked him down? A members-only club. And can you guess whose name he was dropping? None other than Sunghyun.”
“Sunghyun? You mean Kwon Sunghyun?”
“Exactly.”
Immediately, a memory flashed through Yeonwoo’s mind.
“People keep telling me I look like Kwon Sunghyun.”
That repulsive grin on Jeong Chulwoo’s face, reminiscent of a toad, cackling about the resemblance.
He really is insane.
“Apparently he messed up his arm. For the past four days, he’s been showing up at that club, telling people that he’s on a delayed comeback because of the injury.”
Four days. Exactly when Yeonwoo had gotten the penalty. Pure coincidence?
“And it’s not just that, is it?”
“You got it. He’s impersonating Sunghyun and pulling all sorts of vile stunts.”
Han Su-han didn’t elaborate, but Yeonwoo could guess. He was probably exploiting the dark setting of the club, conning people left and right under the name “Kwon Sunghyun.” People who didn’t realize they were being scammed would blame the real actor, obviously.
“Speaking of which, some seedy rumors about Sunghyun have suddenly started circulating in the stock-trader gossip rags. The nasty, filthy kind. It made no sense, because Sunghyun’s always led such an upright life. But now I see the connection. I understand why you pinpointed that scumbag for me—so that we could tackle the problem without shocking Sunghyun’s family, right? Once again, you impress me, Yeonwoo. Seeing the bigger picture, you quietly handed me the lead, right?”
He’s misunderstanding something big here, Yeonwoo thought.
“Thanks to you, we can stop this filth from spreading before it wrecks Sunghyun’s image. A celebrity’s reputation can be destroyed in an instant, and even if it’s based on a falsehood, it takes forever to recover. For a big star like Sunghyun, that would be devastating. But you saved him from all that.”
“…No, that’s…”
“Now, now, no need to be modest. Not only have you saved Sunghyun, but you’ve also saved my dear friend’s entire family. If that boy were harmed, my friend would be hurt just as badly. After all, that child is already their ‘aching finger,’ so to speak. We owe you so much, Yeonwoo. If not for you, who knows what might have happened behind the scenes?”
Han Su-han’s serious voice carried deep gratitude.
He’s got the wrong idea, Yeonwoo thought. But there was no point in protesting—Han Su-han didn’t seem likely to accept any denial.
Fine, let him think what he wants.
“So, is it all right if I handle that scumbag from here?”
That same scumbag, Jeong Chulwoo, had caused Yeonwoo’s penalty. Now that the penalty was gone—particularly after Yeonwoo met Kwon Sunghyun—Chulwoo had lost any usefulness. The “wrong path” had been fixed, after all.
“Sure, do whatever you want.”
“Thank you. I won’t let your tip go to waste—I’ll make sure he’s thoroughly dealt with.”
Now that Han Su-han was gunning for him, Jeong Chulwoo was about to face a fate worse than death. Indeed, a few days later, his name and face plastered every major portal site:
[Actor J indicted for impersonating top star K.]
[J scammed dozens using K’s name.]
[J arrested today for drug trafficking and fraud.]
[Press charges over ‘defamation’ after J impersonates superstar K.]
[Interview with J’s old classmate: “He was a delinquent even as a kid.”]
[A closer look at J’s past, stained by school bullying.]
Watching TV, the child spirit tutted:
[That creep, right? That sea-anemone who claimed he resembled our star. I knew he was rotten—just look at that scam-artist face.]
Messing with Kwon Sunghyun left no chance of mercy. As J’s sordid history surfaced, a flood of testimonies and witness statements piled up. People learned he’d been posing as Kwon Sunghyun for ages, provoking a surge of sympathy for the real star. Ironically, without doing a thing, Kwon Sunghyun’s popularity and good name skyrocketed. Not that he seemed particularly interested.
Then, that very night—
Ding!
Yeonwoo heard the now-familiar chime.
[You have perfectly completed a hidden mission.]
[The penalty is now fully lifted.]
So the solution wasn’t Jeong Chulwoo. The key was Kwon Sunghyun.
[With the penalty fully removed, all lost lifespan is restored.]
[You have also earned bonus lifespan for perfectly fulfilling the hidden mission.]
Once the penalty was gone, Yeonwoo recovered all the lifespan that had been deducted—and earned a bonus on top of that.
I suspected as much, but I really didn’t expect Kwon Sunghyun to be the absolute key.
Unlike the “first penalty lift,” this time the system mentioned the word “perfectly.” Grinning brightly, Yeonwoo glanced at Kwon Sunghyun, who was happily butchering fruit in the corner. It was almost like a ghost of someone who’d starved to death from not feeding others had possessed him—he kept insisting Yeonwoo eat this and that.
If I refuse, he’ll just bet more lifespan on it, I’m sure.
Sure enough, the moment Yeonwoo even thought that, a system message popped up over Kwon Sunghyun’s head:
[Harvestable Lifespan: +3 days]
In other words: “Please, won’t you eat this for me?”
Why does he keep giving me so much? This is ridiculous…
But if he’s giving, Yeonwoo might as well take. With a sigh, he nonchalantly speared the peach on his fork—mushed from all the fumbling—and ate it.
Ding!
[You have successfully harvested lifespan.]
[Harvested Lifespan: 2 days]
Yeonwoo had already collected almost a month’s worth of days just from Kwon Sunghyun’s random “gifts.” It was even easier than most requests, with minimal difficulty.
[Stop taking all our star’s lifespan, Yeonwoo! What if he dies young from this?!] the child spirit protested.
“He’s the one giving it. Besides, he’s got the markings of someone who’ll live a long life—very long, trust me.”
Truthfully, Yeonwoo was just eyeballing his powerful aura, but still, Kwon Sunghyun looked like he’d make it to 120. Even giving away a 20-year chunk left him a century to live—plenty, so these repeated “donations” didn’t faze him.
“Wow… Yeonwoo, you’re so versatile. So does that mean you can read palms too?” asked Kwon Sunghyun, gazing curiously.
“…I’m not a fortune-teller, you know.”
“Ah, right. It’s all so amazing.”
Kwon Sunghyun gave a pure, carefree smile.
“Anyway, aren’t things pretty boring these days?”
“Well…”
“Starting tomorrow, it should get better. I was planning to rest more, but it feels like time to resume activities. People are worried, so I should probably let them know I’m fine. My agency suggested it, too. And it seems you’re bored out of your mind, Yeonwoo.”
Indeed, the public was extremely concerned about him. Once they learned how he’d been hospitalized long-term after an accident, and how that slimeball Jeong Chulwoo had been using his name, rumors exploded. Various media picked up the story, the internet buzzed, and so on:
-I heard a rumor Kwon Sunghyun has some incurable disease. Is that true?
-Word is he’s basically brain-dead, which is why we haven’t heard from him for months.
-Did Kwon Sunghyun die?
ㄴHe’s not dead! He’s totally fine, about to be discharged!
ㄴHis agency posted a statement! They said all those rumors about a fatal illness or brain death are nonsense.
-Why does that sea-anemone scumbag cause trouble and let our Sunghyun take the blame?
-Sunghyun oppa, come back safe T_T We miss you…
Though tensions had calmed, it was a ticking time bomb. Resuming work soon and showing he was okay sounded like a great plan to Yeonwoo. He nodded in agreement.
“Sounds good—go for it.”
Kwon Sunghyun blinked, those long lashes fluttering.
“Yeonwoo… you’re coming too, right?”
“Huh?”
“Yes?”
Their eyes locked, a silent question forming.
“Why would I go with you while you work?”
“Aren’t you coming around with me? That’s how I understood it.”
“What?”
“Yes?”
“…?”
“…?”
As they stared at each other in confusion, a new voice interrupted.
[What do you mean? Is our star going back to work?]
Flutter!
“Huh…?”
Both of them turned their gazes toward the open window, where warm spring air wafted in.
[Yes, he’s returning to his schedule! That’s awesome!]
The speaker sounded delighted, followed by more vigorous wing-flapping.
“…Dongja?”
“Dongja-ssi…?”
The person, or rather the bird-like form that had spoken, puffed up its chest proudly.
[That’s me—Dongja!]
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