Chapter 2: A Harsh Reality

A faint ray of morning light streamed through the cracked window, illuminating the dusty air in my cramped room. My body felt heavy, still adjusting to the strange sensation of being someone else.

I had spent the last hour sitting on the edge of my mattress, breathing in this new reality. I wasn't the 35-year-old finance worker struggling through corporate life anymore.

I was Jung Woo-jin, a 17-year-old dropout living in a Seoul slum with no family, no education, and barely any money to my name.

But before I thought about my next steps, I needed to assess myself first.

🔹 A New Body: Tall, Handsome, and Unused Potential

I forced myself up and walked over to the small, cracked mirror hanging on the wall. The face staring back at me was unfamiliar yet somehow… mine.

Sharp jawline. High cheekbones. Clear, piercing eyes that held a mix of youth and the maturity of my past life. My black hair was unkempt, slightly overgrown, but nothing a proper cut wouldn't fix.

I raised my hand and touched my face. Damn… I look good.

Not just decent-looking—I was actually attractive.

In my past life, I had been average, someone who barely stood out in a crowd. But now? I looked like someone who belonged in the entertainment industry.

And then I noticed something else—I was tall.

A glance down at my frame confirmed it. 6 feet tall. Broad shoulders, a lean but strong physique. I wasn't overly muscular, but I had the ideal proportions for a model or an idol trainee.

I flexed my arms slightly, feeling my muscles tighten. My past self had spent too many hours hunched over desks, staring at spreadsheets and market reports. This body, however, had potential.

Could I make use of this?

In my past life, I had only known finance. I had no experience in entertainment or modeling, but with a face and body like this, it was something worth considering.

Still, my immediate problem wasn't about chasing fame.

It was survival.

🔹 My Home: The Harsh Reality of Poverty

I turned away from the mirror and took in my surroundings.

The room was tiny—barely big enough for a mattress, a small table, and a broken shelf that leaned against the wall. The paint was peeling, and a faint damp smell lingered in the air.

No refrigerator. No gas stove. Just a single electric kettle and a few instant ramen packets stacked in the corner.

I walked to the window and looked outside.

Narrow alleyways. Old, crumbling buildings. People hanging laundry from windows, kids playing in the dirt below. The air smelled of cheap food, sewage, and burning cigarettes.

I was living in a slum-like area in Seoul, the kind of place where people barely got by, where no one cared about their neighbors, and everyone struggled to survive.

I exhaled.

This was rock bottom.

🔹 The Funeral: Alone in the End

My gaze shifted toward the small envelope on the table. Inside was a receipt from the funeral services—the only proof that my mother's body had been properly taken care of.

No relatives had come.No friends had mourned.No one had even sent flowers.

Just me, a couple of service workers, and the cold silence of an empty funeral hall.

I clenched my fists.

It wasn't fair.

She had worked so hard, suffered so much, and in the end, she was left with nothing.

And now, I was left with nothing.

🔹 Counting My Money: How Much Do I Have?

I sat down and emptied my pockets, gathering all the cash I had left.

A few worn-out bills and some loose coins. I counted them carefully.

🔹 Total money: 78,000 KRW (about $80 USD in 2007).

That was everything I had.

No savings.No inheritance.No safety net.

Just a few bills that would barely last me a week.

🔹 Part-Time Work: My Only Source of Income

I let out a slow breath. At least I have some money coming in.

I worked a part-time job at a convenience store, about fifteen minutes away from my home. It was nothing glamorous—just stocking shelves, cleaning, and handling customers.

The pay?

🔹 Hourly wage: 3,500 KRW (~$3.50 USD) per hour🔹 Daily work: 6-hour shifts, 5 days a week🔹 Monthly salary: Around 420,000 KRW (~$430 USD per month)

It was barely enough to survive, let alone save. Rent, food, and basic necessities drained most of it before I could even think about anything else.

Still, it was better than nothing. At least I wasn't completely jobless.

🔹 My Current Situation

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to think rationally.

✔ I was 17 years old, but I had the mind of a 35-year-old finance worker.✔ I had no parents, no family, and no immediate support.✔ I lived in a slum, with barely any food and no long-term plan.✔ I had no formal education anymore, since I dropped out of high school.✔ I had only 78,000 KRW left in my pocket.✔ I had a part-time job at a convenience store, making around 420,000 KRW a month.

But…

✔ I had future knowledge.✔ I had an adult's intelligence and work ethic.✔ I had a good-looking face and a tall frame that could open opportunities in entertainment.

I wasn't starting from zero. I was starting from below zero.

But unlike the countless people who struggled in poverty, I had a cheat code—I knew exactly what was going to happen in the future.

The 2008 financial crisis was just a few months away.Bitcoin was worth nothing yet.The K-pop industry was about to explode globally.Tech startups like Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram were on the rise.

The world was filled with opportunities.

And even though my situation looked hopeless, I wasn't afraid.

I had spent my past life working my ass off for corporations, and what did I get in return? A meaningless death and nothing to my name.