The World is Dogshit

Failed. Honor. Achievement. Romance. I failed at everything.

I was pretty good at studying. After all, since I had been left alone in this world, I judged that it was my only path to survival and clung to it with desperate, death-like tenacity.

I managed to enter a prestigious university as the top student, more or less. The school decided to cover my full tuition with a scholarship, and after enrollment the saying that sweet fruit comes after hardship became reality. For a fleeting moment, I entertained that sweet dream.

The problem was that I had been lacking from the moment I was born. Family. Friends. To fill that gaping void I had worked myself to death with a pencil in my hand from the moment I was old enough, but it was not a gap that effort could bridge. What exactly I lacked by birth took only a few moments of thought to figure out.

Ha… Yeah. The world really is all about connections and bloodlines.

I knew it. But I pretended I didn’t. Life was rigged so that the winner was decided the instant you were born, no matter how hard you flailed. No matter how much a tadpole thrashed at the edge of a stream, it only sent out a few ripples. It could never kick up mud like a snakehead fish whipping its tail or change the current itself.

“Cough… Hack, hack!”

That was why I was dying.

The fact that I was currently buried in snow, quietly freezing to death, was the same. It wasn’t that the severe beating had left me unable to move. I was dying simply because I had no strength left. The crime of offending the temper of a mighty chaebol family carried crushing weight.

I failed.

That human trash of an eldest son had even taken my first girlfriend. You could say he stole her in spectacular fashion, and after that my will to live was completely shattered. The only thing I had ever been able to do was try. But no matter how hard I tried, no matter how fast I pedaled, after entering university the road ahead of my life simply vanished.

Grind…!

The way to beat that spoiled brat. The harassment, contempt, and humiliation that should have been impossible inside a university—I couldn’t endure them anymore. So after the breakup with my girlfriend, today I resisted longer than usual and ended up like this. On this winter day, in a secluded corner of campus, he had even dragged his friends along to beat me with gusto until I was half-crippled.

Ha… Is this the period at the end of my life? What a pathetic fucking ending.

He must have put real emotion into the blows; it felt like my spine had been shattered by his elbow drop. I couldn’t move a single finger. All I could do was quietly accept the blanket of snow piling on top of me. Thinking that it was truly the end brought a strange sense of relief. I no longer had to struggle desperately or force a bright expression for the people around me.

For my last moments I tried to close my eyes while recalling at least one good memory. But damn it all, not a single one existed. There was only darkness. In that pitch-black void, if I had one final wish it was this.

Please, let me never open my eyes again.

I prayed. But the world was truly cruel. Because I opened my eyes in that world once more.

1.

“Mmm…?”

I opened my eyes. I had been certain that with those injuries I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would never open them again, yet my eyelids lifted as if I were simply waking from sleep. There was no way I could have been rescued. It had been dawn, snow had been falling heavily, and I had been left there to die. The university was on break, and above ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all I had stubbornly refused to let out a single scream at the end.

I was so certain because maybe, just maybe, my own wish had been granted. Even if I had luckily survived in that state, there would have been no settlement—only an astronomical hospital bill. I would have had to live on as a half-crippled orphan.

But… there’s no pain?

What was strange was the complete absence of pain. Pain or not, the scene before my eyes had nothing to do with a hospital. A room. It was on a completely different level from the narrow studio I had barely afforded with part-time job money. An extremely luxurious room. The ceiling was high. On the walls of that high ceiling hung strange frames that screamed modern art, and all the furniture was antique style.

Even has its own bathroom…?

My body felt abnormally light. I was so refreshed that I could immediately throw off the blanket and stand, so I gladly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠walked to the bathroom sink. And then—

“…………Who the hell is this?”

It was a first in my life. For the first time ever, I could say those words with complete confidence while looking in a mirror.

“What the hell… This guy is seriously handsome?”

I was so taken aback I forgot myself. A jawline sharp enough to cut, beautifully carved double eyelids, clear eyes. Vivid pink lips, snow-white skin, impressive height. The kind of looks that made men want to bite out of jealousy. And as if to laugh off even that criticism, his shoulders were broad and powerful. I groped at my own body like a primitive man who had just discovered a mirror, and my glutes were rock-hard.

“Wait. Huh? Wait… Is this… really me?”

I wondered if my tastes had been gay all along. The face made it impossible to look away. It definitely wasn’t me. Yet the insanely handsome bastard in the mirror faithfully followed my will.

The situation was unfolding on a whole new scale. Thinking it was some mental hallucination, I hurriedly splashed water on my face.

“Fuck, it got even more handsome…”

I was falling for myself—now moist and even better-looking. I ran my hand across skin that had become smoother and more beautiful. So this was what it felt like to be a narcissist. I grabbed my chin, turned my face at every angle, and spent a full five minutes lost in admiration. Finally deciding I needed to figure out what the hell was going on, I quickly changed clothes. Since I had been wearing pajamas, I switched into something light that would be fine even if I ran into someone.

I cautiously stepped out of the room. The house was quiet and immaculate, the kind of place where soft classical music should be playing, but every step I took on tiptoe revealed another breathtaking sight.

What the hell is this place…?

The entire house seemed to reflect someone’s taste—everything from one corner to the other was antique style. Expensive-looking ceramics stood proudly in plain sight, and there was even a full suit of armor like something out of a museum or a game. High on the walls, paintings and photographs were arranged with generous spacing. Most of the photos were black-and-white monochromes, carrying the weight of history itself.

Wow… So this is what a real rich house feels like?

An involuntary sigh of admiration escaped me. I had no idea where I was, but the sight was so foreign that I stood there dazed. Then—

Thud.

I collided with someone. I had been standing still in the hallway, distracted by the view. The hallway was wide, which meant the other person had clearly bumped into me on purpose.

“The fuck?”

But the other party acted as if I had wronged him. He had obviously done it intentionally, yet he spat out a rough curse on reflex.

…Fuck?

My eyes snapped to him. Not because of the sudden swear, but because the voice instantly turned my expression ice-cold.

“………Gu Jayoung.”

It was really him. That worthless, spoiled piece of human garbage. The vicious connection we had built up since being in the same department at university. There was no need to mention his personality, rougher than sandpaper, and the title of “spoiled brat” might even be too generous for him. This son of a bitch had gone so far as to become my murderer.

He was no longer just a spoiled brat; he had graduated to criminal. His features were rather crude. A rough face that made you think of solid rock.

…Feels a little different somehow?

For some reason the impression was slightly off. But even if the mountains and rivers changed ten times over, there was no way I wouldn’t recognize this bastard. I immediately moved to grab him by the collar.

Grab!

But he beat me to it. His grip was rougher than my intention and far more sincere as he strangled my throat.

“Fuck, you bastard? You’ve been getting cocky for a while now, and now you’re even throwing my name around like it’s nothing?!”

“What… what did you say?”

Hyung?

I wondered what kind of nonsense he was suddenly spouting. But it wasn’t simple nonsense—his excitement was obvious, and I had seen that expression in the past. The face of a man looking down on someone who dared challenge him. The firm jaw of a dictator who would never forgive anyone who tarnished his authority.

One thing was different.

He’s shaking a little?

Unlike before, when he had faced me, this guy was showing anxiety. I didn’t know what it was, but he shot me a slightly uneasy look, clicked his tongue, and released my shirt.

“Unlucky bastard. Hoo… Fuck. If you’re going to brag, just transfer to another school.”

“What…?”

He threw out one last incomprehensible line and disappeared. A murderer who had killed a person could only come up with that? Something swirled inside me, but I stayed calm. The short conversation had revealed one clear fact.

I had definitely become someone else. I couldn’t understand why or how with logic, but that was how I looked and how I was being perceived. So who exactly had I become?

There was no need to think deeply. The answer had already been given directly in front of that spoiled brat. I needed confirmation. While looking around for the person who could verify my guess, I heard—

“Did the brothers fight again?”

A unique dialect accent that was hard to forget once heard, paired with a stern voice. If a voice could be weighed, this man’s would be the crushing pressure of an elephant stepping down. I spun around in surprise. And there he was—the man I had suspected, standing with his hands behind his back.

Neat all-back hair with streaks of white. A heavy jaw, tall stature, and the slightly downturned corners of his mouth that showed unyielding stubbornness.

…It’s really him.

Anyone living in South Korea who didn’t know this man would be a spy. Many wild rumors surrounded him, but the living history that formed an axis of modern South Korea stood right there.

Gu Jagyeom. Chairman of the Guryong Group, one of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nation’s top conglomerates, and the breathing embodiment of the South Korean economy. Just standing in front of him made my legs tremble. With eyes that looked like they could devour me at any moment, the man said—

“Stop hurting your legs. Food’s ready, so the family should eat together.”

“Yes…?”

He invited me to eat. I had definitely died. Yet before long I had opened my eyes again, reborn—this time as the second son of a chaebol family. As the younger son of the Guryong Group that I had hated with my entire being ever since meeting Gu Jayoung.