4. Kim Min-Woo

The Midnight streets,

The streetlights cast a yellow glow,

People were Enjoying.

It was bitterly cold, the wind cutting like a knife.

Park Tae-hyun felt the cold seep into his bones.

He didn't know where he was.

But he knew one thing,

This was... the human world.

He had died, yet returned.

He didn't know what to do.

He could only keep moving forward mechanically, numbly.

He didn't have time to ponder other things now.

For instance, the place he'd just left,

The old man he'd treated before the car accident,

The faceless woman in a red dress in the pond,

Or... his own nails.

His return should have been a joyous occasion, but even when someone passed by him, even if he greeted them as loudly as he could, no one could see or hear him.

He was excluded and isolated from the world.

Those who have never experienced solitary confinement cannot understand the agony of complete isolation. For Park Tae-hyun, the entire world was his cell, shrouded in darkness.

No one could see him.

No one could communicate with him.

He couldn't grasp anything substantial.

Even the wind could pass through him effortlessly.

He was so fragile.

The word "fragile" was no exaggeration when describing him.

What shocked and horrified Park Tae-hyun the most was,

He could see faint points of light emanating from his body.

In other words,

His body was slowly fading.

Perhaps in another quarter of an hour, he would vanish completely, even the last trace erased.

He didn't know how this had happened, but he knew time was running out.

He'd heard stories of spirits possessing corpses, like Li Tieguai from the Eight Immortals, who entered the body of a starved man, leading to his legacy.

Park Tae-hyun wanted to possess a body. Cold and panicked, he needed someone to attach himself to.

He didn't care who it was.

People are selfish in such moments, and Park Tae-hyun was no exception. He couldn't endure this any longer.

However, every time he approached someone, light and fire erupted on their heads and shoulders, repelling him. He was hurt, accelerating his "evaporation."

He was a little tired, a little numb.

Waiting for his end.

As someone who'd already died once, facing death again brought calm.

Moreover, given Park Tae-hyun's current state, the longer he stayed, the longer he suffered.

*Squeak—*

Ahead, a lit shop stood with an old yellow LED sign 'Kim's Bookstore'. It seemed to be a bookstore, with rows of bookshelves visible through the glass door.

Someone pushed the door open and stepped out—a man in a sweatshirt and a hat, his face obscured. He glanced around before hurrying off.

Of course, the man couldn't see Park Tae-hyun standing less than five meters away.

At first, Park Tae-hyun felt nothing amiss, but shortly after the man left, he sensed warmth emanating from the bookstore.

Yes,

A warm breath.

This warmth confused Park Tae-hyun, yet he felt like a freezing man who'd found a box of matches. Though he knew they couldn't save him, he'd still strike them for the last warmth before death.

Park Tae-hyun walked over, his body passing through the glass door, deeper into the store, until he reached the back of a bookshelf.

Behind the shelf,

a person lay there.

He was a handsome young man, around 23 or 24. Thanks to the store's air conditioning, he wore little—just a long-sleeved shirt and a thin jacket.

He lay on the floor, but Park Tae-hyun sensed warmth from him, like a poor man who'd found a bag of gold coins on a night walk.

This kind of attraction was irresistible, and Park Tae-hyun had no right to refuse!

Park Tae-hyun approached and squatted before the young man.

He didn't know how to enter the other's body, but he knew how to touch the warmth he needed.

He stretched out a hand and placed it on the young man's chest.

Park Tae-hyun watched as his nails slowly embedded into the other's body.

It was a strange sensation, different from the "breeze" that had passed through him earlier. This was a fusion, mediated by his own nails.

Slowly, Park Tae-hyun's entire body began to merge with the young man's, their forms overlapping.

"Kim Min-woo! Wake up! Wake up!"

Park Tae-hyun was jolted awake—no, startled. He opened his eyes to find himself sitting behind a bookstore counter, his hands resting on it.

"Hey, wake up!"

The woman's voice was sharp and high-pitched, commanding.

Raising his head, Park Tae-hyun looked at the woman before him—no, she was a girl, likely a high school student. Though tall, she still carried a hint of childishness.

"Hey, Kim Min-woo, what do you think you're doing? Trying to show off to my parents and sister? You didn't come home last night!"

"Who gave you the courage?"

Kim Min-woo?

Who is this?

Park Tae-hyun spread his hands, confused, and noticed they were smooth, lacking the calluses from years of surgical practice.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!"

The girl slapped the counter angrily.

Park Tae-hyun frowned, stood up, and walked to the glass mirror beside the store door. The reflection showed a stranger's face—a face he'd seen last night.

Is this body mine?

"Hey, my parents are furious. My mom's even angrier at home. Let me tell you, everything you eat, drink, and use now comes from my family. What qualifications do you, a live-in son-in-law, have to act so arrogantly under my roof?

"Who are you trying to impress?"

"If you dare not come home tonight, I'll come over and teach you a lesson!"

The girl feigned a punch.

Checking the time—7:30 a.m.—she huffed, "I'm off to school. We'll settle this tonight!" and stormed out.

Park Tae-hyun slowly sank back into the chair behind the counter, where an old notebook and a phone lay beside him.

He still couldn't adapt to this new identity.

He was Park Tae-hyun, a renowned young surgeon in Tongmyeong. An orphan.

Now,

he'd become this.

What had the girl said? He was... a live-in son-in-law?

With a wife?

And in-laws?

Judging by the girl's tone and attitude, his status as a "live-in son-in-law" mirrored ancient traditions, looked down upon by both his wife's family and society. His position was akin to a criminal's.

He picked up the phone, unlocked easily—no password—and opened KakaoTalk and Talk.

The Talk list held few contacts: a handful of classmates from junior high, high school, and university, plus a family group with one person labeled "wife."

Their chat history was empty.

Switching to KakaoTalk, he found messages from Kim Min-woo—questions about dinner plans, shopping budgets, bookstore sales, and health. Her replies were curt and cold:

"Oh," "Hmm," "Alright."

Park Tae-hyun tossed the phone aside. These relationships were too tangled. He stared at his palms, noting his nails appeared normal.

But those nails had played a crucial role—in saving the old man before the accident, escaping the faceless woman, and now, entering this body.

At will,

his nails grew longer, darker, shrouded in a faint black mist.

"No..."

He breathed deeply,

closed his eyes.

When he reopened them,

the nails returned to normal.

From morning till noon, Park Tae-hyun sat trying to adapt to his new identity, to quiet the discomfort of this change. He skipped lunch, unsure if from forgetfulness or lack of hunger.

This was still Tongmyeong. His old home was in the Chongchon District; now he lived in the Gangja District, not far off.

In the afternoon, Park Tae-hyun sighed, stood up, and decided to make the best of things.

He began dusting the bookshelves—something to occupy himself.

The old man who'd strangled him before death had said, "He has been discovered," and the faceless woman in hell had warned, "You will be caught sooner or later."

These words stirred a sense of urgency in Park Tae-hyun.

His current state was "survival".

Returning from the dead was a gift, and he cherished it.

At least until he understood his situation fully, he needed to keep this identity, avoid abnormalities, and evade those "hunters."

The bookstore's business was abysmal. The decline of traditional books was no secret, and this location, far from the campus' prime streets, didn't help.

It was three in the afternoon before the first customer arrived.

The guest browsed the elementary school section for a while.

Park Tae-hyun waited, then approached. "What subject are you looking for?"

The customer shrugged. "Just browsing."

"Okay," Park Tae-hyun said, still out of his element as a "bookstore owner."

But then,

the customer stepped behind him and whispered:

"You don't recognize me?"

"What?" Park Tae-hyun asked.

"I hit you with a baseball bat last night and robbed you."

"You were gasping for air then."