Substitute Chapter 21

Exactly one week after the MT, a text ssage about a dical examination arrived. That was the final gate.

The day after receiving the notice, Jiwon went to a general dical center designated by the agency to get checked.

It wasn’t an ordinary health screening. Putting aside the fact that a personal coordinator followed him one-on-one, he didn’t encounter a single other person besides the dical staff throughout the entire examination.

First, they asured his body. Not just height and weight—just like in the first interview, they reasured the size of his penis and balls, even the length of his perineum. Maybe to prevent a swap, they even re-examined all his scars.

Then ca the full battery of tests. It wasn’t just STD and infectious disease screenings—they covered practically every health item imaginable. In particular, they focused on his heart with things like ECGs, echocardiograms, and CT angiography. For allergies, they ran two or three tests at once, citing delayed or acute responses.

Thanks to the personal coordinator, Jiwon went through the maze of exams with ease. When they told him it was the last test, he lay down on a bed without even knowing what it was for—and fell asleep just like that.

When he opened his eyes, more than three hours had passed.

The coordinator asked with a smile if he was feeling okay.

He figured they’d done an endoscopy under sedation or sothing.

"Good work."

Still dazed from the sedative, Jiwon was guided to the changing room.

After getting dressed and stepping outside, the coordinator handed him a paper bag containing a coupon for porridge and a few simple snacks. Then she personally walked him to the hospital’s main entrance.

Conveniently, a taxi from the agency was already waiting.

Just like that, he returned to the goshiwon.

Nothing had happened, but he scolded himself afterward for being too careless during the last test.

They could’ve done anything to him, but he’d let his guard down because the beautiful personal coordinator was kind. Honestly, that could’ve been the end of him.

The mont he got back to the goshiwon, he locked the door, stripped naked, and examined himself head to toe. Aside from the needle marks from the blood test, there wasn’t any particular sense of foreignness.

Once the tension eased, he collapsed on the bed.

She really was pretty. If it hadn’t been for the reason he was there, he might’ve even asked her out. She looked like his ex, too.

"Fucking idiot."

Falling for a woman he’d just t in the middle of the most important opportunity of his life—he really was hopeless. He let out a deflated laugh.

He wasn’t worried about the test results. He’d never had an STD, and as for infectious diseases, the only ones he’d ever caught were COVID and the common cold. Both already cured.

Jiwon kept the dical exam a secret. Not for any particular reason. He just didn’t want to give anyone false hope. He wasn’t going to let go of that last sliver of hope until the very end, but he also had to prepare for the opposite outco.

So that there’d be nothing he regretted enough to want to disappear like Han.

He just said his arm hurt and took the day off. Honestly, his arm really wasn’t doing well—so even the "fucker" couldn’t argue.

He only rested that one day. The next day, he was back at the frozen logistics center as usual. He didn’t even avoid overti. From midnight to 5 a.m. on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays, he diligently worked as a chauffeur for the room salon. Of course, he also took regular substitute driver gigs.

His substitute driver earnings weren’t great. That was only natural—he’d deliberately avoided taking calls.

He had a bit of money now and wanted to rest.

Honestly, he was exhausted.

Since the health check, sleepless nights had beco more frequent, anxiety gnawing at him.

[No word from President Choi?]

The ssage ca while he was resting at the goshiwon.

That’s what I want to ask.

He almost typed that, but ended up just replying with a short: [Yeah.]

He figured that if they knew sothing, they’d tell him. Simple.

He trusted them that much.

[Can I borrow two million?]

[Don’t have it.]

[I’ll pay you back in a week.]

He didn’t even have the energy to type, but the texts kept coming.

[I said I don’t have it.]

[Then one million.]

When he didn’t respond,

[You wanna see dead?]

A threat.

It was a request to et in person. The timing was a little sensitive, so he didn’t like agreeing this way—but there was sothing he wanted to check, too. He texted back: [Fifty.]

[Tomorrow, 9 p.m., Gangnam Station.]

Just like that, the eting was set.

Jiwon sat at the convenience store near the room salon, sa as always. Whenever the door chi rang, he instinctively glanced toward the entrance.

He kept thinking Han would call out, “Hyung,” and hand him a drink with a “One-for-one.”

Had he gotten attached or sothing?

He chewed on a triangle kimbap with a bitter smile.

****

July felt endless.

The whole world burned with heat.

Jiwon was deep asleep in the goshiwon when soone suddenly banged hard on his door.

"Room 304! Quick delivery! Co out now."

It was 305. The neighbor brought the envelope directly—sothing the goshiwon manager had signed for.

Jiwon barely got up and opened the door.

"Here. You know how you never find out these things if the manager keeps them. Good thing I saw it, right?"

He handed over a yellow docunt envelope with a swift flick.

305 was right. The manager accepted anything that ca in and never gave a damn. Because of that, Jiwon had often missed important docunts—utility bills, overdue notices, warnings—leading to unintentional delays. Once, it had even brought a loan shark to his door.

"Thank you, sir."

"Don’t ntion it. Let’s eat sothing."

305 made a drinking gesture.

"Sure. I’ll just check the papers first."

Jiwon said this and closed the door.

The acceptance ssage he’d been waiting for never ca. It was always overdue notices and bills. The life of a twenty-eight-year-old man had already turned vile.

He sighed, assuming it was another overdue notice from so bank, and opened the envelope—only to open his eyes wide.

It was the final acceptance packet—five full pages. They hadn’t sent a text. They’d sent a person.

A short congratulations ssage was printed alongside a long list of instructions and preparations.

The excitent lasted only a mont before he felt tears sting like an idiot.

He’d finally grabbed hold of sothing. Maybe not a straw, but a root—thick and real, with both hands.

His chest ached with emotion.

[You are invited to Paradise]

Under that corny greeting was the number 700 million won. It looked unfamiliar.

Right. It was a 700 million won job.

The feeling of receiving a 700 million won acceptance packet while sitting in a shitty goshiwon was... strange.

To calm himself down, Jiwon headed to the kitchen.

305 was already there, waiting with a bottle of soju in front of him.

"Sir, want a beer?" Jiwon asked.

"I’d love to."

"Give a second."

When Jiwon offered to go buy beer, 305 started rattling off his list.

"If you’re getting it, grab imports. Different kinds, if you can. For snacks, butter-grilled squid and wasabi peanuts. Should we get instant noodles too? Nah, forget that—there’s ran everywhere."

Apparently, he’d been craving imported beer for a while—he made that part extra clear.

Jiwon chuckled and left the goshiwon. He went to the convenience store and bought eighteen cans of imported beer, plus a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a bottle of vodka. He also stocked up on all the snacks 305 ntioned.

"Whoa, what’s all this? Must’ve been an important letter."

305 grinned as he took the bags from Jiwon.

"Yeah. Overdue notice. If I don’t pay, they’re gonna—" Jiwon joked, making a slicing gesture.

"Overdue notice? Sure, sure. That’s the most important kind. Nothing in the world’s more important." 305 laughed, as if it was obvious no one like them got anything more important than that.

Even though it was obvious Jiwon wouldn’t buy beer just because of an overdue notice, 305 didn’t ask a thing.

"But hey, is your arm okay? Looks like you can’t really use your right."

He was already cracking open a beer as he asked.

"It’s not that bad. I can use my left."

"Don’t say that, kid. Take that beer money and go to a damn hospital. Fix it while you’re young—less hell when you’re old."

305 downed a can of beer like it was water and gave his advice.

"Yeah. I’ll do that."

Jiwon opened the whiskey.

305 grabbed his second can and held out a glass with the other hand. Jiwon poured his drink first, then filled his own.

305 raised an eyebrow.

You’re drinking too? That’s what his eyes said.

"Just one."

"Alright, let’s drink! Cheers!"

"Cheers."

They downed the shot.

The whiskey was sweet.

****

They gave him exactly one week to wrap up his life.

In that ti, he had to get full-body waxing and change his hairstyle to match the photo in the envelope.

Hair was no big deal—you just cut it—but the full-body waxing was completely unexpected. For soone like Jiwon, it was a foreign world, and on top of that, it was Brazilian waxing. Just ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) thinking about it was awkward and embarrassing. But this was the job he’d desperately wanted. Embarrassnt ant nothing.

That sa afternoon, the day he received the acceptance papers, Jiwon went to a waxing shop for n. Luckily, they had an opening and he got a full-body wax right then.

Aside from that, he spent the week just like any other. He made sure not to seem like soone about to quit. He kept working at the warehouse, kept doing the driving jobs—including his weekend shift as the room salon’s private driver.

No matter what, maintain the routine.

He kept his promise.

On the deadline day, he quit everything.

That afternoon, he went to a walk-in hair salon and got his hair cut just like the photo. They said he needed a perm too, so he got that done—it was technically a perm, but barely had any curls. It was a common style among young n these days: short, neat, and understated.

After the haircut, Jiwon stopped by a blood donation center nearby. He donated what might be the last trace of himself—his blood.

That completed everything.

[I got a job in the provinces. I’ll be gone for a while, won’t be in touch.]

That was his final ssage.

[Sorry, for being such a useless hyung.]

[Take care of yourself. Let know when you’re back.]

That was probably the last reply.

On Sunday, July 11, early in the morning, Jiwon factory-reset his phone inside the restroom at Gangnam Station, just like the instructions said. He powered it off, removed the SIM card, flushed it down the toilet, and hurled the phone onto the pavent. He then stomped on it until it shattered.

Exactly five minutes later, he climbed into the van provided by the agency.

That was the last ti Kim Jiwon was seen on CCTV.