The 100 Million Won Night

As's words that the 100 million won woman had taken four weeks left me completely dumbfounded. I'd only rifled through some memories, but four whole weeks had passed in the meantime?

They said souls and bodies were woven together by the three goddesses who governed the past, present, and future. Neither President Hong nor I had shown any rejection response, but our compatibility was poor, so it had taken a long time. Apparently, things fused quickly if one side was handsome and the other average, but we'd both been too good-looking and run into trouble. Was this bullshit or just hot air?

In the end, President Hong had been missing for a month, and I was still officially unaccounted for. A quick search turned up nothing on him. As a reclusive CEO, ordinary people probably didn't even know he'd vanished in the first place.

There were articles about the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠embezzlement case—the company had reported it to the prosecutors. The suspect was listed as "Employee A," currently on the run, with no mention of any accident. Not a word about the car being found either. Just like that, I'd become Employee A.

A search for entertainment news brought up some jaw-dropping headlines.

Logging into Sisspatch, I saw no articles from Cha Hwayoung since three weeks ago. She usually posted at least one a week, so something was off with her too.

My fuckbuddies seemed more shaken than I'd expected. And it wasn't just them—Do Mingyu hyung had to be worried sick. Park Hyungpil had promised not to touch the company if I took the fall, but the money stashed there wasn't chump change. Besides, with me gone, that bastard had no reason to honor the deal.

I'd planned to stay hidden for a bit, but in this state, I probably needed to at least let people know I was alive. Problem was, I had no good way to do it. Telling them the person inside had changed? Way too out of left field.

If I just show up and say I'm Song Jinho, they'll treat me like a lunatic. What the hell do I do...?

Pondering this, I stared into the mirror. A handsome guy with sharp features and distinct facial lines stared back—tall, with just the right amount of muscle, giving off a dandy vibe in his thirties. No wonder women lost their minds over him.

I tried shifting expressions, but I still couldn't get used to it. How long until this face felt normal?

"You try swapping bodies. Bet you wouldn't react like this."

I took the car key and phone from As. After I'd decided to take down Park Hyungpil, she'd been holding onto them. Anything As possessed was invisible to humans.

Hong had shared the pattern and passcode in the memory space, but I hadn't turned it on yet. The second I powered up the phone, contacts would blow it up from anywhere— I needed an alibi for the four weeks I'd been gone.

As didn't seem too fussed about my dilemmas. What an impatient personality.

"Who should I do it with?"

So who the fuck was I supposed to bang?

I pictured the status window in my head, and a translucent panel materialized in front of me.

One hundred million. She expected me to blow it all on one woman in a week...

"Appreciate the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠easy mode, but you gotta tell me who the target is."

The place As named was a famous club in Gangnam known for top-shelf girls. A few private rooms overlooked the stage—high enough level they didn't hand them out to just anyone. She wanted me to book one here.

Reserve a room, and the MD would bring in a selection of prime girls; one of them would be As's pick. Tutorial or not, this was a 'test.' I had to drop 100 million like it was nothing if I wanted to handle the escalating amounts ahead.

The wardrobe was top-notch—anything I threw on looked killer. I'd gotten by on looks as Song Jinho, but President Hong's body? He could just flash a smile, and women would spread their legs on their own.

Seduction should be a breeze. Just gotta figure out the spending part.

"How do I spend the funds?"

"What about reservations or online payments?"

That simple? Fuck, no money worries at all.

Down to the parking lot, I hit the key fob, and a car over there chirped back. Another Porsche Taycan like mine, but while I'd had the 4S model, President Hong's was the Turbo S—north of 250 million won. The one I'd always wanted to drive. Perfect.

I parked nearby and headed into the club. The MD spotted me right away.

"President, it's been a while. Shall I show you to a room?"

Hong must've been a regular. Now I got why As picked this place. She'd done her contracts here and wanted to see how I'd stack up. Probably itching to compare.

I nodded and followed the MD upstairs. I'd figured a club room meant seedy, but it was pristine—like a luxury officetel.

Drinks ordered, tips slipped, "pick good ones" all flowed naturally. This was the body remembering. How many times had he fucked here for moves like this to be automatic?

"Not telling me to do multiples, huh."

A few minutes later, three women walked in. They scanned the room with curious looks before even glancing my way—not club hires, clearly. No way the MD would've brought in-house girls with me here unless he was insane.

All three were top-tier in looks, but the bob-haired one in the middle jumped out immediately. Especially those full, heavy tits—they could stand toe-to-toe with Bora nuna's, perfect shape too. Body swapped, but my taste in racks hadn't changed.

One of them locked eyes with me and gasped in surprise.

"Whoa, mister, are you an actor? But I don't think I've seen you on TV."

"Entertainment industry, yeah, but not an actor. And drop the 'mister'—gotta hear that shit even here?"

"Then... uncle?"

"Oppa."

"Yesss~"

Once the drinks flowed, the awkwardness melted away. The other two were the high-energy type, chattering nonstop, but the one I'd targeted just smiled nicely without much talk.

"Oppa must like Soyoung—she's the only one you've been staring at."

"Ah, she just looks familiar, but I can't place it."

Too obvious. I bullshitted an excuse.

"Huh? You don't know Ham Soyoung? She placed third in Hyper Model last year. Guess oppa's not into that scene."

"Told you, she looks familiar. I'm shit at remembering faces."

Her height had tipped me off—model, huh.

As. Got a question.

That sex tag you mentioned—how do I use ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it?

Center, bob hair.

Save the flattery—how do I do it?

The moment I named her, a glow started emanating from Soyoung's body—like she'd flicked on a fluorescent bulb behind her back. Was this what they called an aura?

'Some kind of light. Yellow—what's that mean?'

Come to think of it, Soyoung's glow was edging toward orange. A little nudge, and she'd cave?

"So what do you do, oppa?"

"Run a small agency. You wouldn't know it."

One-night stands—no need for details.

"Whoa, entertainment CEO! Can you debut girls like us? I've got the face and body for it."

"Looks are table stakes. You need marketable talent. Even singers with killer pipes or actors with chops flop without commercial appeal. Timing matters too, of course."

"Totally CEO vibes, hehe."

Damn right.

"Oh, Soyoung's great at acting too. She's been prepping at an academy forever—her teacher's all about her potential. I've seen her perform; it's no joke."

Model to actress? Solid path. Even without awards, that killer height would make her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stand out. Soyoung... I'd pegged her as a one-nighter, but the more I watched, the more of a waste that felt.

Maybe scout her potential while I worked her over?