Substitute-Chapter 14
He barely managed to stay conscious long enough to crawl back to the goshiwon and collapse like he’d been knocked out. Even though he’d set alarms at five-minute intervals, he didn’t hear a single one go off. If it hadn’t been for the commotion at the goshiwon, he would’ve missed the final interview entirely.
Thank fucking god for the fight between room 302 and 307. A knife was involved. Someone in 302 got hurt badly enough that the police showed up. Jiwon felt sorry for the guy, but thanks to them, he was saved.
Even if it was only a couple of hours, waking up after sleep had brought down the fever. That didn’t mean the pain had gone away. His right arm was a given, but the twisted back made him feel like he could die.
Still, the first thing Jiwon reached for was his phone.
There were no messages or calls since “later.” freewebnoveℓ.com
He popped painkillers on an empty stomach and pulled out the enema kit. One round wasn’t enough. Since it was the day of the interview, he took his time and did it two more times. He figured, what, was he gonna die from an enema? As expected—probably because he was still young—none of the side effects listed in the precautions happened. As usual, he finished off with a rectal cleaner.
It took exactly an hour and a half.
If he didn’t live in a goshiwon, he might’ve even tried inserting the prostate massager hidden in the drawer under his bed. “Prostate massager” was just the official name—it was basically a masturbation toy for men. Vibration was a basic feature, and some models came with a semen-retention ring. Every manual boldly threw around the word “G-spot,” which technically didn’t even exist in male anatomy.
Last fall, before moving into the goshiwon, Jiwon had splurged and bought three of the most convincing models he could find. Despite the pain, he’d tested them on himself two or three times a week. He had to feel something—really feel it—so he put in real effort. After two months, he finally discovered what he could call his own “G-spot.”
He'd believed it was impossible, something he’d never feel again—but he’d felt it. Not only did he experience excitement he thought he'd never taste again, but the worry that he’d never get hard again turned out to be meaningless—he got an erection and even came.
Now he completely understood why that guy had gotten hooked on anal sex. After that, Jiwon kept chasing that hard-earned pleasure and began regular anal masturbation—and eventually, he took another man’s dick. That was the first time he both gave and received oral sex with someone of the same gender.
Honestly, the oral wasn’t bad. But penetration was a whole different beast. Masturbation and the real thing had nothing in common. Forgetting that he was straight—straight to the bone—had left him with nothing but an unpleasant memory. Still, he didn’t stop.
That was just how inflexible his personality was. And finally, all that experience was about to pay off.
After cleaning himself in the goshiwon shower stall, Jiwon packed his suit and headed for the sauna he always went to. Even if there was no physical contact, he still had to insert a dildo in front of someone. Naked. Even if it was just a camera.
It had been less than a month since his last full-body scrub, but he got another one anyway. They said for just ₩5,000 more, they’d do an aroma oil massage, so he added that too. Maybe it was the massage, but his fatigue seemed to lift, and he smelled good—his mood even felt lighter.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror with a towel wrapped around his lower half, Jiwon stared at his own face.
What the hell is it about this face that makes them spend that much money to find it?
Okay, sure—he was good-looking. But that was it. He wasn’t the type to make someone gasp in awe at first glance. If anything, he leaned toward the plain side.
No—that’s just how I look.
He chuckled quietly, thinking of Han and that guy.
“Like a damn wife,” he muttered to himself.
Jiwon wiped a hand down his face.
Honestly, looking for someone who resembles you was just instinct. Jiwon had always preferred women who looked and dressed a certain way, too. Still, he couldn’t figure out why the client went to such lengths for this interview process. Especially considering how much money was involved.
He thought back to the first interview. Aside from the face, they photographed everything—his whole body, genitals, balls, perineum, even his anus. The fact they excluded his face meant they weren’t just looking for someone who looked like him facially.
Okay, so maybe the first round was about body. Then what was the second round for? To test taste preferences? Or just to see how he ate? Maybe both.
The guy in the photo was probably around 180cm tall. Han and that guy were 178, and Jiwon was just shy of 182. So the average checked out.
Piecing together everything he’d seen and heard so far, Jiwon came to one conclusion: the client was looking for a gay man in his 20s, obsessed with high-end desserts.
Counting Han Seoho, that made at least four people who’d gone through interviews so far.
Jiwon might’ve had the kind of face that got worn down by life, but Han didn’t. Even if they looked alike, there was a difference in level. The guy Jiwon saw during the second interview had looked exactly like him. Probably the guy Han saw looked flashy and stood out, just like Han.
Jiwon thought hard about the gap between him and Han, trying to find the common denominator.
How many people out there look like a 50/50 blend of me and Han?
He was curious.
****
Manjo Building stood at the far end of Sagye-dong in Yongnam City—a twelve-story relic with faded congratulatory banners still hanging here and there, celebrating its designation as a redevelopment zone. But really, it was a ruin. Not a single fucking ant in sight. You could probably die here and no one would ever find out.
Having come all prepped—cleaned out and scrubbed down—Jiwon felt like someone who’d dressed up to die. He shook his head quickly to chase the thought away.
All he thought about was getting through the interview. He was determined not to quit, no matter what happened. Then, he’d walk out with that ₩10,000,000 reward and the trophy in hand.
He needed that trophy. He needed proof that what he was doing wasn’t just chasing fog or wasting time.
Today was going to be the day.
The building reeked of age. Sure enough, the plaque by the front entrance said it had been built 42 years ago.
A big, old cement block, stained by four decades. Cracks and mold lined the walls, and the unmistakable stench of mildew and concrete clung to the air. Spiderwebs dangled from the corners of the high ceiling.
The reception area looked like a security booth from an old apartment building. An old man in a navy guard uniform sat inside watching TV, but when he sensed someone nearby, he turned his head.
As soon as he saw Jiwon, he opened the little window.
“Here for the interview?”
“Yes, I’m scheduled for ten.”
“Hold on, let me see...”
The guard, clearly up in years, put on his reading glasses, licked his thumb and forefinger, and flipped through a logbook that Jiwon couldn’t see.
“Today’s July 9th... ten o’clock, ten o’clock... Here it is. Kim Jiwon?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“ID, please.”
Jiwon pulled out his wallet and handed over his ID.
The guard took it with a wrinkled hand, scribbled something in his notebook—probably Jiwon’s registration number—and then handed him a card key. A label reading “Temporary Access Pass” was stuck to it.
“Hang it around your neck and head to the thirteenth floor.”
“The thirteenth floor?” Jiwon asked, frowning slightly.
The guard clicked his tongue. “We don’t have a fourth floor.”
“When you get out of the elevator, there’ll be a steel door. There’s a scanner below the handle—tap the card there, and it’ll open. Don’t push—pull.”
He mimed holding a card and tapping it in midair, then pointed at a phone number taped to the booth window in case Jiwon needed help.
Jiwon gave a polite bow, slipped the card around his neck, and walked toward the elevator.
It was an old model, no mirror inside. It creaked like it might drop at any second, crawling up floor by floor. After 3 came 5—no skipped numbers after that.
When he got out on the thirteenth floor, a heavy steel door greeted him. It looked just like the ones at that maximum-security prison he'd once seen, which made him feel uneasy. Just like then, there was a chill to it.
He took a deep breath and tapped the card. With a loud clunk, the door unlocked. Just like the guard said, he pulled it open by the handle. The weight of the door ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ pressed against his hand.
Inside was a narrow, dark hallway. At the end—maybe three meters away—was a frosted glass automatic door. Someone in a black suit stood beyond it.
Hearing the steel door open, the suited figure stepped forward like a concierge and waited for Jiwon to enter.
Jiwon let go of the door handle and walked toward them. Behind him, the door slammed shut with a loud bang.
Strangely, the noise gave him a sense of relief. There was nowhere to back out to now. His mindset shifted.
The suited man bowed politely and led him through the glass doors. A small room that looked like a waiting area appeared beyond. There, Jiwon was made to stand while they patted him down. His phone, wallet, and other personal items were placed in a plastic basket.
“Please proceed.”
This time, they guided him to a door labeled “Conference Room.” The suited man didn’t follow him in.
Jiwon stepped through the door, confused. He’d expected something just like the first and second interviews—maybe even more secretive.
Instead, what lay ahead looked like a regular job interview room.
____________
TL Note:
Goshiwon (고시원) — a type of very small, low-cost rental housing in South Korea, typically consisting of a single room just large enough for a bed and desk. Originally intended for students preparing for civil service exams (called goshi), goshiwons are now often used by low-income workers and people in financial hardship. They usually have shared bathrooms and kitchens, minimal privacy, and are associated with poverty and social isolation.
