Chapter 18
Swish.
A guard stationed at the fork in the path extended his arm politely, blocking the way.
“Ma’am, this area is restricted to hotel guests only.”
His tone was courteous, as expected from the security staff of one of the most expensive hotels in central Seoul, but the meaning was clear—no entry.
The uninvited guest, who clearly didn’t belong to the “inside,” nodded calmly.
“I know. I have business there.”
“I’m sorry, but only registered guests may pass from this point.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that too.”
Her quiet voice carried an odd authority.
The thick lenses of her high-prescription glasses reflected the light sharply, and even her faint smile hinted at unreadable confidence.
The guard hesitated. That air—the composure of a predator.
Years of experience warned him not to judge someone by appearance, and he listened to that instinct.
“May I confirm the reservation name?”
He raised his tablet respectfully.
Adjusting her glasses up the bridge of her nose, she replied evenly,
“Go Woo-ri.”
Her confident voice hid a pounding heart the guard couldn’t hear.
“One moment please.”
He tapped on the screen a few times. Sweat began to gather on her palm as she gripped her bag.
After a few more taps, the guard handed the tablet toward her.
“Thank you for waiting. Please enter your personal code.”
Without hesitation, she typed in the memorized number.
The completion screen appeared smoothly, and the guard stepped aside with a bow.
“Welcome, and please enjoy your time.”
She had worried she’d be stopped, but the process was surprisingly easy.
With a brief nod, she walked through. Her heart still thumped wildly as she exhaled, stretching her upper lip.
“Unbelievable.”
Her lips twitched with barely contained excitement.
She had just entered the private bar hidden deep inside the luxury hotel—a place without an official name, simply known as “the inner lounge.” Entry was by reservation only, and in reality, that meant members only.
Membership required expensive yearly registration and various procedures, but once obtained, all drinks and snacks were charged to that card.
And it seemed that Go Woo-ri’s membership still existed—despite Go Woo-ri being dead.
“This is surreal.”
She never thought she’d hear her own name used as if it belonged to someone else.
But once inside, with soft jazz playing in the dim light, the strangeness quickly faded.
She slipped through the quietly chatting patrons and took a seat at the bar counter.
“Welcome. It’s an honor to have you here tonight. May I take your order?”
The bartender approached politely.
He was someone she recognized—a familiar face she used to exchange jokes with. But to him, she was a stranger now.
“This feels weird.”
Feeling as if the whole world were playing a hidden-camera prank on her, she said,
“One Peach Highball, please. Make it a double.”
“Right away.”
Normally, the bartender would have teased her, but today he only bowed slightly and turned away.
It struck her how completely every relationship once tied to Go Woo-ri had vanished. She didn’t regret it—she’d chosen to abandon that life—but the sensation still felt strange.
Crossing her legs, she rested her chin on her hand.
“Now I can finally drink peach.”
She smiled faintly at the thought, waiting for her Peach (not Pitch) drink.
Her peach allergy was gone now—she could finally enjoy everything she’d once avoided.
She adjusted her glasses again, leaving a fingerprint on the lens.
“Ugh, seriously.”
Of all things, she still couldn’t get used to these glasses. The smudges always clouded her view.
“I should just get LASIK already. This is ridiculous.”
How did people live their whole lives behind fogged-up lenses?
Without a lens cloth, she rubbed them with the edge of her shirt.
Clink.
“Oh!”
Just then, someone brushed past her elbow, and her glasses fell to the floor.
“I’m so sorry.”
The person bent down immediately, picked up the glasses, and handed them back to her.
It was too dim to see his face clearly without her glasses.
“It’s fine.”
“First thing tomorrow, I’m booking that eye surgery.”
She brushed it off and focused on that resolve—LASIK, no more glasses.
But when she finally put them back on, a shadow lingered in front of her.
A man was standing there, watching her.
“Do you need something?”
She frowned slightly, but the man slid into the seat beside her with a smooth tone.
“You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“No. I’ve been here before.”
“Strange, I’ve never seen you.”
“Right, and I’ve never seen you either.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
Her curt replies silenced him.
The bartender returned with her drink.
“Your Peach Highball, ma’am.”
The clear amber drink gleamed under the lights.
She smiled faintly and lifted her glass, while the man seized the chance to speak again.
“Sorry, but—”
“If you’re really sorry, you’ll leave me alone.”
At that, his expression soured.
“…You don’t have to be so full of yourself.”
She flinched slightly but ignored him. Eventually, he muttered under his breath and left.
Still, her fingertips trembled from the adrenaline.
[Die, die!]
“…That bastard. Should’ve chewed him up alive.”
Maybe it was because of that unforgettable incident on the plane.
Shaking her head, she tried to dispel the dirty feeling. At least this place wasn’t cramped like a plane—and there were plenty of strong security guards around.
She focused on her drink again.
“Just one glass. No more, no less.”
For someone who could outdrink anyone, one glass was nothing—but tonight she only wanted to savor it.
Sip.
“…That’s nice.”
The sweet unfamiliar taste filled her senses, and she let out a long sigh.
“So this is what it tastes like.”
That peachy sweetness—and the warmth rising inside her—reminded her she was alive.
It wasn’t about the taste or the intoxication. The way alcohol gently heated her body made her feel human again. That’s why she loved it.
Sip, sip.
She tilted her glass slowly, savoring the mellow music and smooth flavor.
“This is what living feels like.”
Whatever body she was in now—it didn’t matter. The joy of tasting, of feeling, was bliss itself.
But lost in that pleasure, she didn’t notice her vision beginning to sway.
“…Huh?”
By the time she realized something was wrong, her glass was nearly empty.
At first, she thought her glasses were dirty again. But when the blur grew worse, she took them off to clean—only to realize her hand was trembling.
Her body felt weak and strange.
Was she sick?
No way—was the peach allergy back?
Panic hit as she clutched the bar table for balance.
“Wait… what’s happening to me?”
Her voice quivered.
Her vision spun harder, her limbs unsteady, and then it struck her—
“…Am I drunk?”
Her body wasn’t obeying her.
Me? Go Woo-ri? The woman who could drink an entire barrel without blinking?
“No…”
But she wasn’t Go Woo-ri anymore—she was Joo Ae-jung, in a different body.
And maybe this body couldn’t handle even a single drink.
No, this isn’t right. Something’s really wrong.
She tried to stand to head to the restroom—but that was a mistake.
Her knees buckled.
“Ugh…!”
Her legs gave out from dizziness, and she barely caught the edge of the table.
At that exact moment, the man from before—the wolf who had been waiting for his chance—appeared beside her.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
He grabbed her shoulders, pretending to be concerned, though his glinting eyes told a different story.
Panicked, she twisted her arm to shake him off.
“I said I’m fine. I can—”
But in doing so, she lost the last of her strength.
Her body collapsed.
She had a split second to curse her luck before falling—
Thud.
—or would have, if not for the strong arm that caught her just in time.
A firm hand slipped under her arm, holding her effortlessly.
As if by magic, her limp body was steadied, wrapped securely in someone’s embrace.
And then, close to her ear, a low voice murmured—
“I don’t recall giving the wind permission to blow.”
