Taming the Obsessive Attachment

Kwon Jae-jin stuck out his tongue, messy and coated in semen. Then, with all his strength, he bit down hard on it. With the healing factor, he could recover from almost anything, so this wouldn’t kill him.

Jae-jin simply wanted to make one thing very clear to Seo Eui-woo.

Who’s the desperate one now?

His tongue, which he had bitten down on as hard as he could, was left hanging in tatters.

As Jae-jin spat out the mouthful of blood that had pooled in his mouth, just as expected, Seo Eui-woo’s expression subtly changed.

“Why… why all of a sudden? You always say you hate getting hurt, that civilians shouldn’t suffer.”

The fresh blood seeped into the pristine white sheets, leaving a stark red stain.

Seo Eui-woo blinked in confusion. He seemed quite taken aback. Not because Jae-jin had cut off a chunk of his tongue—no, that much wasn’t shocking—but because the man who had always acted weak, claiming he hated pain, that he didn’t want to be killed so he would comply with guiding, had suddenly changed so drastically.

Seo Eui-woo pulled a healing factor vial from his chest pocket and injected it into Jae-jin’s veins. Jae-jin blinked a few times, his vision flickering, before collapsing forward onto the bed, burying his face in the mattress.

The pain from biting his own tongue with all his strength was beyond anything he had imagined.

It was agony.

Jae-jin grimaced, his face contorting, as his shoulders trembled with harsh coughs. Every time he coughed, fine droplets of blood sprayed out like a mist.

***

Forcing open his eyelids, which had dried and stuck together, Jae-jin slowly came to. A white bed bathed in morning sunlight.

When he tried to shift, an arm firmly wrapped around his waist held him back. Seo Eui-woo was fast asleep, hugging him tightly.

“……”

Jae-jin blinked a few times before wriggling to find a more comfortable position, eventually burrowing into Eui-woo’s chest. The familiar warmth felt soothing, offering a sense of security. Nestled in his arms, he remained half-asleep for a while, mumbling drowsily.

“…Eui-woo, water…”

Then, Jae-jin stiffened.

From the root to the tip, his tongue throbbed with a dull, anesthetized pain, swollen and numb as if it had been injected with a local anesthetic.

Instinctively, he moved his tongue again, only to find it was thick and sluggish, his speech slightly slurred.

Only then did his mind fully snap awake.

‘Ah.’

For a moment, he thought it had all been a dream.

That he hadn’t died. That he hadn’t regressed. That none of it had happened. He almost believed he was still in that moment four years in the future, lying beside Seo Eui-woo, who still remembered him just as he was.

‘Ha… right…’

Kwon Jae-jin swallowed a hollow laugh.

As he sorted through the tangled mess of his memories, he recalled the last thing he had done—biting his own tongue to the point of mutilation. In his second life, he had tried not to resist guiding. He had attempted to comply. But in the end, he hadn’t been able to endure it, and he had failed.

‘Yeah… okay. I get it now.’

So training a beast is no easy feat.

‘You can’t just spoil Seo Eui-woo. Got it. Loud and clear.’

Honestly, up until now, Jae-jin had believed that as long as he obediently acted as Seo Eui-woo’s Guide, all his problems would be solved. As long as he didn’t refuse guiding, didn’t try to escape, and didn’t fight Seo Eui-woo, he thought things would go smoothly.

‘I was way too optimistic…’

The beast named Seo Eui-woo, it seemed, needed a proper mix of carrot and stick.

He had thought that as long as he provided guiding whenever asked, things would be fine. And yet, here he was, driven to the point of biting off his own tongue.

Jae-jin could only feel a deep sense of frustration.

‘So I need to guide him without refusing, but if I let Seo Eui-woo push me around too much, I’ll just be trampled underfoot. That’s what this is about, huh?’

Having reached this newfound understanding, Jae-jin let his eyelids flutter shut with a sigh.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

If he resisted and fought back every time this bastard acted like a rabid dog, they’d just waste another three years like before. But if he let Seo Eui-woo do whatever he pleased, it was Jae-jin who would suffer for it.

Sure, he was terrified of the future—of dying in four years. But that didn’t mean he could just sit back and take it every single time Seo Eui-woo tried to fuck him raw. If anything, for the sake of the future, he needed to fix this man’s damn habits.

‘In the end, I need to find the right balance between reward and punishment… but how the fuck do I do that? Haah, goddamn it…’

First things first, he needed a cold drink of water to clear his head.

Right now, all he could focus on was how parched his throat felt.

Letting out a shallow sigh, Jae-jin reached out and tapped Seo Eui-woo’s elbow.

“Seo Eui-woo, move your arm.”

“Mmm.”

Eui-woo mumbled an unintelligible sleep-talking sound and clung even tighter. His grip around Jae-jin’s waist tightened like a vice, making it hard to breathe.

Damn, he really was strong.

Jae-jin was dying for some water, but trapped like this, there was nothing he could do. He had no choice but to wait.

Giving up on struggling, Jae-jin let himself fall back onto the bed with a resigned plop.

Fortunately, Seo Eui-woo seemed to have cleaned up. The blood Jae-jin had vomited and any other filth had been wiped away, and the sheets were freshly changed. His face, once smeared with blood, felt clean, and even his mouth was free of any unpleasant residue. His entire body felt fresh. It seemed that Eui-woo had even bathed him.

Jae-jin stared blankly up at the glass ceiling before lowering his gaze to Seo Eui-woo.

If this had been his first life, his mind would have been ablaze with hatred, distrust, humiliation, and resentment toward Eui-woo. But the Jae-jin of his second life was different.

At such an odd moment, he wondered—what if all of this was really just a dream? What if he fell asleep again and woke up to find that none of it had ever happened?

Seo Eui-woo… must be nice to live so carefree. All you have to do is accept the guiding, and that’s the end of it.

His eyes landed on Eui-woo’s messy, tousled curls, scattered like a bird’s nest.

The tips of his translucent black hair shimmered with a rainbow sheen under the morning sunlight. Depending on the angle, the color seemed to shift.

Jae-jin absentmindedly reached out and ran his fingers through Eui-woo’s hair, following the natural parting on the left side. He combed his fingers through the roots, then carefully split the part in the opposite direction, creating a new division.

This way, he figured, he’d have a clear distinction.

No more confusion.

No more mistaking this for a dream.

Just by looking at the direction of the parting, he’d immediately know which Seo Eui-woo stood before him—whether it was the one from his first life or his second.

He wasn’t entirely sure what significance there was in differentiating between them, but he didn’t want to think too deeply about it.

He didn’t have the energy to. His body ached with exhaustion, a lingering mental fatigue pressing down on him.

“Mm… You’re awake?”

Just then, Seo Eui-woo stirred, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. The soft touch of Jae-jin’s hand in his hair must have felt pleasant, as he smiled faintly.

Jae-jin responded by pinching Eui-woo’s cheek hard and giving a sharp nod toward the arm still wrapped around him, silently demanding it be removed.

But whether he truly didn’t understand or was just pretending not to, Eui-woo refused to let go. Instead, he nuzzled in closer, pressing his face into the crook of Jae-jin’s neck and letting out a wide yawn.

“Move, Seo Eui-woo.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You’re heavy.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Not a single inch of movement.

For all his obedient responses, he remained utterly motionless.

“Let’s just… sleep a little longer. I’ve always wanted to sleep in for once…”

Mumbling sleepily, Eui-woo rubbed his nose against Jae-jin’s collarbone.

Jae-jin considered that for someone who had suffered from chronic insomnia due to a lack of proper guiding, this might be the first time Eui-woo had ever slept this deeply.

Realizing that, Jae-jin gave up on pushing him away and let him stay where he was.

After all, if he wasn’t going to get up himself, he could just make this bastard do it for him later.

“If you’re just going to lie around like that, you might as well fetch me some water while you’re at it.”

“Oh, right. You did ask for water earlier.”

“…You heard that?”

“Yeah. Eui-woo, water… That’s what you said, right?”

“……”

Kwon Jae-jin narrowed his eyes slightly, feigning ignorance.

So he’d heard that after all.

Jae-jin had thought Eui-woo was fast asleep, but it seemed he had just been pretending.

When Jae-jin didn’t respond, Seo Eui-woo simply shrugged. Not long after, a glass of water floated through the air, gliding toward them effortlessly. Though it was filled to the brim, not a single drop spilled, stopping just in front of Jae-jin as if by magic.

This mansion had been specifically built to match the exact range of Seo Eui-woo’s abilities. That meant he could extend his powers anywhere within the house without restriction.

No wonder this brat is spoiled rotten.

Without needing to lift a finger, the glass, controlled by telekinesis, tilted toward Jae-jin’s lips. Like a baby bird being fed, he obediently swallowed the water as it poured into his mouth.

Once the glass was empty, it floated back toward the kitchen.

“Tablet and card too.”

“You want me to bring them?”

“Yeah. I feel like blowing some money.”

Immediately, a black tablet and a black card flew into Jae-jin’s hands.

Turning on the screen, he connected to the internet and typed in the name of a luxury brand that came to mind. The official website for Y appeared, and he clicked into the main page. Without a second thought, he started throwing everything he saw into the shopping cart.

Watches. Watches. Shoes. Watches. Perfume. Bags. Pet accessories.

A single red dog collar was priced at 2.8 million won.

The dog bowl next to it? 1.5 million won.

He added both to the cart, paid in full with the black card, and then moved on to another luxury brand, J.

Sweaters. Trench coats. Bags. Belts. Swim trunks. Hats. Wallets.

Again, he dumped everything into the cart and paid in full, not even bothering to check the total price.

After hopping from site to site, he ended up purchasing a Ducati Panigale V4 SP motorcycle for 70 million won. By then, his mood had significantly improved.

Even looking at Seo Eui-woo’s sleeping face—his breath soft and even, his eyes shut tight—no longer pissed him off.