Substitute-Chapter 20

“Ugh, fuck. I’m telling you, the guy’s dick is the size of a peanut and all he does is brag about money. Like, do I have a strong stomach? Of course I played along. And now, finally, he says we’re getting matching Cartier watches. Couple watches.”

Han Seoho chattered into his phone, laughing as he spoke to his best friend—someone he’d met years ago when they were both seventeen and running with a gang of runaway kids. The guy now drove a garbage truck and went by the nickname “Shoo,” short for “Super Trash.”

The name came from a joke, originally “Soo-Soo” (short for Sseuregi Sooja—"Trash Collector"), which eventually morphed into “Shoo.” Strangers sometimes thought it meant “superstar,” which they both found hilarious.

Lately, Han had been depressed. Every guy he met just used him for a night and left. But this time, he’d landed a good one—a real sucker. The kind that came around once in a blue moon.

“Hold on. Shit—diarrhea calling,” he muttered the moment he saw the name flash on his phone screen.

It was only noon. Getting a call from him this early meant something had gone wrong.

Most of Kwak Jun’s calls these days were about the interview process, which meant one thing: either he got chewed out by his cousin, or he found some reason to nitpick the candidate.

“Mr. President! What a surprise,” Han answered, voice suddenly sugary sweet.

It was habit. A survival mechanism.

—“You little shit. Do you ever do your job properly?”

Right out the gate, screaming.

“Oh, come on, what’s got you so worked up today?” Han asked, his lips twitching into a smirk as he glared at the screen.

His voice stayed light, chirpy.

—“You knew, didn’t you? You knew that guy was a fucking eunuch.”

“Who?”

—“Don’t play dumb! Kim Jiwon! The guy with his dick cut off!”

Ah. Fuck. Right. Today was the final interview.

Han was supposed to be scheduled for 3:30—his interview, a decoy, a fake, meant to mislead Jiwon. He’d completely forgotten, too distracted by his new sugar daddy and the promise of matching luxury watches.

The truth was, Kwak Jun had only just laid eyes on Jiwon today. Which, considering how involved he always pretended to be, was hilarious.

Typical. Loud as hell about everything that didn’t matter, and blind to the stuff that did.

No wonder everyone hated him.

“Oh, him? Why?” Han asked innocently. He’d always known Jiwon was missing his dick, but whether or not it worked—well, that wasn’t his concern. Who the hell cared?

—“Why?! Are you fucking kidding me right now?!”

Jun’s shouting made Han pull the phone slightly away from his ear.

Fat, ugly, and short—and to top it off, he had the temperament of a toddler. And yet, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he got to do whatever the hell he wanted.

The world really was unfair.

—“The asshole kept saying he could get it up, but he didn’t even twitch once while the dildo was going in. Not even once! You put that kind of loser into the candidate pool? You think I’m a joke?!”

Oh, Mr. President.

If you had to sit in that bright-ass room and shove a dildo up your own ass, you think you’d get hard?

Han silently mocked him. Empathy clearly wasn’t one of Jun’s strong suits.

“Honestly, sir, I really don’t understand why you’re upset. Did the Chairman say something?”

—“What?”

“I mean, his opinion is what really matters here, isn’t it?”

He emphasized Chairman. Because this wasn’t about Jiwon’s dick. This was about who fit the Chairman’s taste. Kwak Jun knew that.

—“You—! You little shit—”

Bingo. Just as expected, Jun was shaking on the other end of the line.

“Kim Jiwon looks «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» just like Cha Yeonseo. You know that, right?”

Han's tone stayed steady, calm, even as he began to corner him.

“You know how hard it is to find someone who looks exactly the way the Chairman wants? I busted my ass tracking that guy down. Do you have any idea—?”

He let out a deep sigh, like the weight of the world had just landed on him.

“If the lack of an erection is really that big of a deal, then fine. I’ll speak to the Chairman myself.”

—“Who the hell do you think you are, bringing up my grandfather?! You wanna fucking die?!”

What do you want from me, you asshole?

The words sat on his tongue, but he swallowed them.

He was used to this. Jun always picked fights over nothing, and Han was good at playing nice when it mattered. But this time, he wasn’t backing down. With cowards like Jun, the louder they barked, the more they backed off when met with force.

“Let’s be honest here. Doesn’t Jiwon look just like that guy from two years ago? The one the Chairman couldn’t get enough of. You remember him, right? Jade?”

The moment he said the name, Jun snapped—screaming “fuck you” before slamming the line dead.

Han let out a soft, amused exhale.

The idiot couldn’t even finish his tantrum properly.

Jade.

It had been years since he’d spoken that name out loud.

Back when the Chairman still held full power, all his favorite boys got aliases. Fancy nicknames. Jade had been one of them. The real name? Forgotten. All that mattered was the Chairman had adored him.

The one before him had been Gold. That was Cha Yeonseo—practically the Chairman’s wife. Jade had come next.

If that wasn’t proof of how much the old man had cared, nothing was.

Four years ago, there was one man who could make even Yeonseo jealous. Smart. Gorgeous in a subtle way, not flashy—just naturally attractive. One of those clean-cut college kids everyone called a golden boy.

And the sex?

Insatiable.

He’d do anything. Try anything. Enjoyed everything. Even the hardcore stuff. Even BDSM.

The guy looked like a monk but fucked like a man possessed. No wonder the Chairman had lost his mind over him.

Despite being nearly eighty, the old man could still get it up without pills. And he worshipped Jade. Bought him a luxury villa in Cheongdam. Gave him a limitless credit card. Didn’t care who he slept with. In fact, he encouraged it.

The old man liked to watch. Had a voyeurism kink. He’d secretly film Jade having sex with other men. And with Yeonseo—his forty-something mistress—he didn’t just watch. He sat in the room.

Which brings us to the real villain of this whole operation.

Cha Yeonseo.

Real name: Cha Jongsu.

She hated that name. Hated it with a passion. But she never changed it—couldn’t change it. A fortune-teller, one of the most famous in the country, told her that if she changed her name, she and the Chairman would be over within a month.

She believed it. Did every ritual the shamans told her to do. And maybe it worked—she held onto the old man’s love for twelve years.

Yeonseo had drifted from one bar to another, working under a stage name. Claimed she was twenty-eight when they met, even though she was already in her mid-thirties. No one thought it would last. She probably didn’t either. But it did. Which only made her more desperate to keep it.

She was obsessed with youth. Terrified of aging. Most women in nightlife were sensitive about age, but she was something else—neurotic, maybe even hysterical.

She had a fresh, youthful beauty, even compared to girls a decade younger. But instead of aging gracefully, she spiraled. Got work done. Over and over. Until the face that once belonged to Cha Yeonseo disappeared. Replaced by something flashier. Cuter. A face not unlike Han Seoho’s.

The Chairman hated it. He didn’t say so—but he hated it. So he started looking for someone who looked like the old Yeonseo.

And that’s how he found Jade.

Twenty-one. Beautiful. Sharp. Untouched.

A perfect mirror of the face Yeonseo used to have.

Jade had been the old man’s favorite for over two years—loved, spoiled, and doted on. Eventually, he even started threatening Cha Jongsu’s place. And of course, Jongsu wasn’t the type to take that lying down.

To get rid of Jade, she resorted to the worst method imaginable.

First, she got Amber—Jade’s best friend and another one of the old man’s playthings—hooked on drugs. Then she used Amber, who was living with Jade at the time, to slip the drugs into Jade’s system without him even realizing it. Just like that, he got addicted too.

By the time the old man found out, it was too late. He went ballistic, but the damage was done. The irony? The old man had been dealing drugs for decades, but he absolutely loathed addicts. So when Jade spiraled, the old man cut him loose without hesitation.

Which, of course, was exactly what Jongsu had wanted.

She knew how the old man operated. She knew what would happen. And she was satisfied.

What she didn’t expect was for it to backfire so badly.

The problem was, she’d picked the wrong target. These weren’t nameless runaways—Jade was a prestigious college student. A clean-cut face in a dirty business. And Amber’s family? They had connections. One of them quietly reached out to a detective they trusted.

And so the narcotics division started poking around.

Naturally, they approached Amber and Jade. And eventually... Han Seoho.

Back then, he was twenty. Working the streets. Running tricks for Cha Jongsu’s crew. Selling others. Selling himself.

That was when he first met the detective.

Three years ago, now.

Time really flies.

He smirked at himself—sounding like some worn-out geezer. Then tapped the contact on his phone and put it on speaker. A tacky ringtone started to play.

Where had he left off?

Right. The detective.

The same guy who had approached Jade, Amber, and even Jongsu—he’d met Han too. And honestly, his life had gotten a hell of a lot easier since.

Sure, a couple people ended up dead because of that guy sniffing around. But truthfully? Han had felt nothing but bitter satisfaction.

He used to watch those two—envy eating him alive—while they lived like gods.

Good fucking riddance.

Looking back now, that detective had been more than a lifesaver.

He’d been a turning point. A patron. And in every sense of the word... a lover.

Thinking about him brought another face to mind: Kim Jiwon.

A man too young to be so tired. Working himself to the bone every day and still eating leftover convenience store rice balls for dinner. He looked like someone had stitched Cha Yeonseo and Jade into one person.

A man who called his own brother—who had ruined his entire life—a “fucking bastard.” That was it. That was all. If it had been Han, he would’ve called him something far worse. Maybe even killed him.

But Jiwon? He’d been paying off his brother’s debts for six years. Still lending him money. Still trying to keep him afloat.

What a moron.

Han scowled as if it were his burden.

That meeting in the bathroom hadn’t been a coincidence. Jiwon thought it was. That was cute. It was planned—right down to the minute.

“I saw someone who looked like Yeonseo,” the detective had said.

“Seriously? Where?” Han had asked, instantly alert.

“Not sure yet.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t give me that. You’ve got an eye like a hawk. Where was it? Huh? Where?”

“A few days ago. Hired him as a designated driver. Remember my company dinner?”

“Tuesday?”

“Yeah.”

“Details, please.”

“Impatient little shit, aren’t you? Could be a false alarm.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. This is a billion-won decision. Chop-chop.”

“Alright, alright.”

That’s how Han had found Jiwon. The background check was handled by the detective, of course. But Han had double-checked through one of his contacts just to be safe.

Both sources said the same thing. But the detective’s info? Way more useful.

“I’m telling you, this guy? Total putty in my hands. Cleaned up after him, kissed his ass, even wiped it for him. Disgusting. But whatever.”

Han cackled into the phone.

“Anyway, I’m meeting him at the department store in a bit. Wanna come? He’s totally into me. Seriously. I’ll butter him up and see what crumbs fall. You just make sure you’re looking hot. We’re long overdue for a threesome. Cool? One hour. Be there.”

He ended the call and turned back to his vanity.

That detective really had the sharpest eye.

Han had nearly puked the first time he saw Jiwon. Disheveled. Pathetic. But now, looking back... he’d been a pearl in the pigpen.

He thought of those piercing eyes, half-hidden beneath a mop of hair, and grinned.

Two billion won had already hit his account. If Jiwon passed the medical check, another billion would follow.

Three billion.

Just for an introduction.

Where else could you make that kind of money?

Sure, it was nothing compared to the seven billion they dangled for the real thing. At first, Han had been obsessed with getting into that party. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized—he’d either come out broken or not come out at all.

What good was seven billion if you were dead?

Shoo had said it best: Even in a pile of shit, life is better than death.

Han felt a tiny pang of guilt for Jiwon.

But honestly? The guy had no future anyway. He’d die breaking his back in some warehouse, eating instant noodles until his teeth rotted.

At least this way, he’d die after a good fuck or two.

And if he survives?

Well, that’s a problem for later.