RACA 52

Jaebeom frowned. It was merely the act of filling his memory, like inputting information into a computer.

-Hyung-nim? What’s wrong?

What was even stranger was that, despite all this, concrete information remained scarce.

“Do you know where he was adopted from?”

-Um… Well, I’m not really sure about that part, but one day my hyung-nim brought him home.

Then again, given his personality, he probably wouldn’t have gone into detail with his subordinates. Jaebeom watched the cat, its eyes narrowed, lying contentedly as he stroked it.

-Ah! I remember now. It was on the way back from an appointment with President Kim that day.

“Mr. Kim?”

The unexpected name made Jaebeom raise his eyebrows in annoyance. He really didn’t like that guy constantly butting in.

What made it even more unsettling was that yesterday, knowing Eunsol was by his side, he showed interest and even suggested meeting up together.

“So you’re saying it’s President Kim’s cat?”

If that’s the case, maybe he should send it away immediately. Just then, Jaebeom’s gaze as he looked down at the cat was about to turn deadly.

-I don’t think that was the case. The kid was filthy and soaked through from the rain.

If that’s the case, it’s more likely he picked up a stray wandering the streets than adopted it.

“Got it. If anything else comes to mind, let me know later.”

-But why are you suddenly asking about Jongjong?

When suddenly asked about the cat he was raising, it was only natural for Kwak Sang to feel curious. Unfortunately, however, his boss wasn’t the type to kindly explain things.

“Yeah, there is such a thing.”

Jaebeom gave a vague reply and ended the call. His hand kept stroking the cat’s soft fur, but his thoughts were already elsewhere.

Eunsol’s words kept nagging at him. More precisely, it was what Eunsol had claimed about himself.

“Ha, no way.”

That’s ridiculous. There’s no way something like that could actually happen. Jaebeom pushed aside the doubt gnawing at his mind for now.

He tried to divert his attention elsewhere to stop thinking about it. He shifted his gaze back to the magazine he’d been holding.

‘You like me, don’t you?’

So Eunsol wouldn’t do anything to harm him. From what he’s seen so far, Eunsol has only ever tried hard to look good to him; he couldn’t sense any other intention.

The magazine wasn’t particularly interesting, but it wasn’t so boring that he’d immediately put it down either. It was passable enough to read.

It wasn’t solely about movies. There was an article about the whiskey Jaebeom was drinking now, suggestions for snacks to pair with it, news from travel destinations, and various other information.

Even then, Jaebeom hadn’t realized that the structure felt somehow familiar.

“So this was why?”

Then, what caught Jaebeom’s attention was a post about the movie he had seen with Lee Eunsol at the theater not long ago.

Inside the booklet, the movie’s plot, actor information, and even an interview with the lead actor were printed in order.

Jaebeom’s gaze lingered on the part describing the protagonist who wakes up inside another person’s soul after an accident.

He remembered that scene vividly.

At the time, he brushed it off without much thought. But looking back, it was a way for Lee Eunsol to subtly signal his situation.

Like the protagonist in a movie, he had possessed someone.

“Hmm.”

Then suddenly, Jaebeom realized once more that this wasn’t something limited solely to Lee Eunsol.

“Hah…”

Jaebeom squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them. There was definitely something wrong. No matter what he thought about, he kept feeling doubts.

‘Am I being played by Lee Eunsol?’

That stung his pride. As he impatiently skimmed the plot, a line from an interview caught his eye.

‘I actually imagined what it would feel like to live someone else’s life while acting. The more I immersed myself in that life, the more I felt like I was losing sight of who I truly was.’

For a moment, Jaebeom let the words slip out without thinking.

“You say I’m blurring who I am?”

Like images streaming from a TV with static, scenes suddenly flooded over Jaebeom. They were countless memories that had been suppressed all this time.

“Ugh!”

Jaebeom pressed his fingers against his throbbing forehead. But the pain kept spreading. His hand, which had been absentmindedly stroking the fur, tightened its grip.

Meow.

Thud. Thud.

The kid, who never got angry, threw his first cat punch at Jaebeom, then leaped off the sofa and ran forward.

In an instant, the cat leaped onto the desk, assumed a fighting stance, and glared at Jaebeom.

Meow. Meowww. Grrrrr.

Despite protesting with sounds he rarely made, for some reason, the owner didn’t budge an inch.

“Ugh, ugh…”

Finally, Jaebeom clutched his head with both hands and hunched his upper body. Jongjong, keenly catching this sight, crouched, his gaze fixed on Jaebeom.

The swishing tail and the turmoil in his eyes revealed a mix of wariness and unfamiliarity. The next instant, the cat’s fur stood on end as the intense alpha pheromones spread through the air.

Meow, meow. Meow!

The cat, whose senses were sharper than a human’s, meowed repeatedly, as if demanding to be noticed, its protest tinged with irritation. But all that returned was the intensifying pheromones and an unsettling silence, like the calm before the storm.

The cat crouched, meowing warily as if facing a robot vacuum cleaner. Even that meow acted as a memory trigger for Jaebeom.

The director, producer, and writer he met at the cafe. The agency head with that confident look, the drama reading that started half-heartedly, the omega protagonist who never quite felt right.

The more he tried to sync up, the messier the other actor’s performance became, and the set atmosphere kept grinding to a halt. Friction between the drama production company and investors made the already tense relationships among the staff even worse.

Even in moments when everything felt like walking on thin ice, Jaebeom could immerse himself in his acting thanks to the director’s skillful guidance – who knew how to pull off the drama brilliantly – and the compelling nature of his role.

Arrr, arrrrrr.

Even as the cat meowed incessantly, it failed to rouse Jaebeom, who had fallen deep into thought.

Among the countless roles he had played, none had been so ambivalent, so devoted to his own desires. Nor had any narrative been so completely shattered by a single person.

That’s why he tried desperately to immerse myself, but unfortunately, the shoot hit a snag from day one.

“Haa… Haa……”

His face, after the pain like being pierced by an awl had passed, was completely drenched in sweat. His exhaustion was evident.

Only after splashing water on his face did he notice the large furball sitting stiffly in place, staring up at him blankly.

Just moments ago, Jongjong had been bristling with tension, but now he seemed to be showing signs of worry.

“Why are you acting like that?”

He must have noticed his expression change.

Meow.

The cat tilted its head back and forth. Its eyes narrowed and widened repeatedly, as if it utterly confused about who the person in front of it was.

Well, things had changed, even if only subtly, so that was understandable.

“But seriously, this is ridiculous.”

Jaebeom wiped his face once more. He looked at his damp, wet hands and stood up. He went into the bathroom attached to the study, washed his hands, and examined his reflection in the mirror.

“Pyo Jaebeom.”

The expression he wore when referring to himself was no different from the one he often saw in his daily life. But the place he was currently in, the situation itself, was unbelievable.

He recalled the events before arriving here. After barely finishing the first shoot with an omega actor who had absolutely no talent for acting, all that remained was a relatively simple scene.

Just a shot where he walked down the street with an actor playing his subordinate, and when an extra on a motorcycle passed by, he only had to scatter some papers.

“Why did you make such a rookie mistake?”

But Jaebeom really did make a mistake that day that sent a shiver down his spine. He blew a piece of paper right in front of a speeding motorcycle.

The moment the paper blocked the extra’s vision and their eyes met, Jaebeom instinctively knew a major accident was about to happen.

Sure enough, the obstructed view prevented the extra from slowing down. To make matters worse, a van suddenly appeared at high speed from the end of the alley. It was clear that a major accident would occur if left unchecked.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Jaebeom sprinted toward it. Just before the motorcycle collided with the car, he threw his entire body forward and shoved the extra with all his might.

“Haa…”

Thanks to the memory coming back so vividly, his guilt toward him only deepened. Since he have no memory of what happened right after that, he probably possessed Pyo Jaebeom in the drama immediately.

“Why on earth did that happen?”

Then suddenly, Jaebeom’s brows furrowed. He couldn’t tell if it was a dream or a near-hallucination, but he recalled an elderly woman with a refined appearance staring at him.

The old woman had said something and gestured toward Eunsol. At the time, Jaebeom hadn’t been in his right mind and hadn’t properly understood what the woman had said.

Then why did Eunsol wake up with his memories intact, while he had none?

“I suppose I should talk to Lee Eunsol first.”