Possessed by My Cheat Character
There was a game called Reversal World's Upstairs MILF Entertainment Management. A simulation where you become someone in the entertainment industry—like an idol, actor, writer, or PD—and build your own management business, ultimately creating your personal entertainment empire. You could become a popular idol, a 10-million-ticket movie star from Chungmuro, or a PD overseeing countless artist teams. And it wasn't on rails; every playthrough randomized the environment and characters around you. That's why it always felt fresh, even after dozens of runs, and it was hugely popular.
I was one of its fans, especially hooked on unique playstyles others skipped. The standout tag? Gender reversal.
"No need to make it hard, right?"
Playing as the male protagonist debuting as an idol in a gender-reversed world meant god-like popularity in-game. Endless advances from droves of beauties chasing you. A total nerd in reality, but a super-heartthrob in the game. The catch? Reaching the ending was brutal. You'd dominate the late game, but the gap with established powers kept you from building that overwhelming empire.
"Idol route was the wrong call."
This run was the same. I became a global musician BTS could only dream of, but my talents skewed too idol-heavy to conquer other fields. Superstar rich? Sure. But the ultimate goal—my own entertainment empire—barely laid a foundation before it ended.
"To see the ending, I need to be a jack-of-all-trades... Possible with just normal traits?"
Even hardcore players would struggle on this difficulty. And I wasn't that level. So for this run, I loaded it up: Shining Talent, Genius Face, Overflowing Empathy, Flamboyant Eloquence, Gender Reversal, and more cheat-level tags. This time, easy mode—no grind, just enjoy the entertainment life.
"This run, I'll build my empire for sure."
I was determined to hit that ending. Pumped, I started the game... only for the status window to appear not on my screen, but right in front of my eyes.
"...Not a dream."
I was sure. My arm was red and swollen from pinching it over and over. I'd gamed till dawn when the status window popped up. Figured I was overtired, so I crashed in bed, thinking it'd be fine after sleep. But I woke in a strange room. Way bigger than my 11-pyeong one-room. Not even a studio—definitely an apartment.
"What the hell is this?"
My chest felt heavy, like a stone on it. Worst-case scenarios raced through my mind. No way to just sit; I ransacked the master bedroom. Score: a mint-green wallet on the desk edge.
"Homeowner's?"
Mint green? No way mine—black, manly, a gift from my parents. This looked pricey too, but the leather was scratched to hell. Inside: ten 50,000-won bills, resident ID, student ID.
"Rich kid."
Ignored the cash, checked the ID first. Name: Han Jimin. Androgynous, kinda girly. Looks...
"Whoa."
Idol- or actor-level handsome. "Girls must swarm him. Jealous. Do I know him?" Not a friend—that face I'd remember. But "Han Jimin" rang familiar. Age 20, fresh high school grad. Pocketed the ID, checked the student card.
"Korean Arts University?"
A ridiculous thought hit: Han Jimin. Korean Arts University. Drop-dead gorgeous. Matched the character and setup I'd created last night. 2D on monitor became 3D reality—I hadn't clocked it at first. So this guy was...
The protagonist of my Entertainment Management game. A munchkin stuffed with every special talent.
"...Fuck, no bad reviews, and I get isekai'd into the game?"
Mirror check. Heart-pounding handsome stared back. Not just face—tall, toned build, muscles peeking. Genius Face, Perfect Physique, Hero's Battle-Hardened Muscles. Skills fully applied.
"Haa... insane."
Craved a smoke. Reached for pocket—underwear only. No cigs. Scanned room: none, no lighter. Non-smoker, apparently.
"Ugh."
Head-scratching bewilderment. "This real?" Lay down, wake in game world. Brain fried. Common in novels, but hitting me? Paralyzing. What now?
"More like, how do I log out?"
Yelled for status, system, Entertainment Management functions. Maybe logout sends me home. Half-right: no system, but status appeared. Useless for escape.
Just the skills I'd crammed in. Lucky—I hate hard modes, or I'd be sobbing.
"Whoa, fuck."
Mirror again: handsome guy glaring irritably. Even rationally, laughably perfect. Living with this face—what's it like? That meme popped up: female idol smiling blissfully at hot actor. No wonder "life upgrades."
My eyes drifted to the desk.
"Han Jimin."
New run's protagonist name. 99/100 looks stat—docked a point for "humanity." Pointless with this face. Strategic weapon for women. Even I, a guy, cursed enviously.
Anyway...
"Need a hit."
Smoke urge hit harder than future plans. Cash in pocket—time to buy some.
"...Hoo."
Convenience store nearby in the apartment mall—quick trip. Nicotine circulating, mind calming a bit.
"Actually got pulled into the game world."
Checked the building on the way back: Rose Renaissance. No memory of it—proof this wasn't reality. Whatever happened, this was Entertainment Management's world. 2D monitor world now 3D reality.
"How to live from here?"
If it were a game? Pick an entertainment job—trainee idol, aspiring writer, station part-timer. Earn cash, grind skills, build your empire. No fixed story, but clear goal.
"Build the world's biggest management company."
Surpass real-world Universal or Disney Music. That's the endgame.
"But easy? Nah."
Lit another cig. Smoke wafted out the window.
"...Gotta try, right?"
Vague, but pursuing it might uncover a way home. This face? Could thrive here... maybe.
"Dropped it drunk or something."
Post-smoke rummage: half-cracked iPhone under bed. Messenger first.
"...Tch."
Unread messages flooded the app—reality crashed in. Mine? Just parents, loans, Burger King ads. His? All women. And this cocky bastard renamed them by age. No need for names when they chase you.
"No wonder hot guys are... "
Should curse him, but...
"That's me now?"
Being the hot guy? Fresh, thrilling. Chest swelled. Fiddling with the phone, one non-number name caught my eye.
"Damn, gorgeous."
Kim Nayun. Birds of a feather—stunning enough to turn heads. Then...
"Fuck, what? Ack!"
Skull-splitting headache hit.