Chapter 1
Chapter 1
The Mad Priest of the Slums #1
Age twenty-eight.
I went to college like everyone else, served in the military without much trouble like any other man born in South Korea, even if I had a flaw or two, and got discharged normally.
After that, I worked part-time while waiting to return to school, then graduated like everyone else.
Maybe I was lucky—my first company wasn’t some bottom-tier hellhole but a small-to-mid-sized firm. I worked as much as I was treated fairly, and eventually got promoted from a regular employee to an assistant manager.
That man—
is me, currently getting ready to leave work.
“Team leader.”
“Oh, Jinhyuk.”
My boss, just over thirty, tall, with a strong personality and good looks, someone everyone in the company liked regardless of gender, placed his packed bag on the desk and looked at me.
“I’d like to use my remaining leave next week. Would that be alright?”
“Jinhyuk.”
He smiled knowingly and picked his bag back up.
“You already checked that it’s all usable, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then use it. No—especially you, don’t hesitate and just take it. Last year you only used it on empty days after covering for everyone else.”
I didn’t feel the need to correct him, so I just nodded once.
“When next week?”
“Any weekday works.”
“Then come in tomorrow and submit it whenever.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you? How many deals did you bring in?”
We chatted casually as he slung an arm around my shoulder, then I left the company and returned home.
“Hmm.”
Sitting on the sofa in my relatively spacious one-room apartment, I pulled out a business card holder.
Among the various cards with different names and company logos, I took out one odd piece of paper.
It was divided into four rows and six columns, each filled with numbers.
I scanned the QR code at the bottom with my phone.
A link appeared.
I tapped it.
Then—
[ 1st Place. ]
This wasn’t just a piece of paper.
It was the only winning ticket for this round of a lottery that had gone 17 rounds without a jackpot.
The prize—
13.7 billion won.
After tax.
“Back when I was a student, I thought this was a scam.”
That’s how lotteries are.
If you don’t win, it’s all fake.
But the ticket I bought with coworkers after lunch—
turned into a first prize.
Democracy still worked.
“Maybe I’ll travel.”
I never really had strong desires.
Even with all this money—
I felt nothing special.
I knew that wasn’t normal.
But I had already accepted that I was a bit different.
I put the ticket back, took a shower, and came out refreshed.
Then grabbed a cold beer.
As the carbonation slid down my throat—
I finally felt alive.
“Haah.”
Life isn’t complicated.
If you can enjoy good things, that’s enough.
I had already cleared the games I liked.
Nothing interesting was on TV.
So I lay on my bed and opened my phone.
No new updates.
No messages.
Then—
Ding.
A notification.
A message.
“…Not again.”
Messages like this were always from writers.
The reason was simple.
A friend I’d known for 18 years shared my account.
And he had a terrible personality.
If he didn’t like something—
he ruined the comment section.
I thought he’d get banned eventually.
But somehow—
he never did.
“…Persistent bastard.”
He even paid me 100,000 won a month to share the account.
I asked why once.
He said, “You’ll regret knowing.”
So I stopped asking.
The sender this time—
[Observer]
“…That’s new.”
Not a writer.
More like a reader.
“Sorry, whoever you are.”
I apologized out of habit.
Even if it meant nothing.
I opened the message.
“If you’re so confident, try it yourself.”
“…Did he say something weird again?”
Curious, I tapped the author’s name.
Then—
Thud.
My phone slipped from my hand.
“…What?”
Dizziness.
Severe.
I tried to pick it up—
but my hand wouldn’t move.
“I should’ve gone to Italy…”
That was my last thought.
As my consciousness faded.
“Hmm.”
I expected death.
But I woke up.
In a place I didn’t recognize.
Not my room.
A fireplace crackled.
Soft carpet.
Bookshelves.
“…Looks like a movie set.”
“You’re surprisingly calm.”
A woman’s voice.
I turned.
A blonde woman sat at a desk.
Her face—
hidden in light.
Not human.
“Should I sit there?”
“Yes.”
I sat.
“This is a first.”
She laughed.
“Most people panic or beg to go back.”
I understood the situation.
Reincarnation.
Or something like it.
“I don’t think going back is possible anyway.”
“…Interesting.”
She smiled.
“Originally, this was partly your fault too. But I’ll change that.”
“…Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She tapped the desk.
“You can’t return to Earth. But I’ll give you benefits and two choices.”
She raised a finger.
“One. You enter a world based on a novel your friend criticized. You can possess any character, with full knowledge.”
Not appealing.
“Two. You become a resident of that world. No possession. No obligations. Just live freely.”
“What happens if I die?”
“You die.”
Simple.
“I’ll take the second.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to be dragged into something.”
She laughed.
“…You’re interesting.”
Then—
“Let’s proceed.”