Han-gyeol was suffering from hypersensitivity to safety at the very moment Roy was toying with Jun-seo’s wrist.

A few days earlier, someone on Star Hero had whispered something like a curse to him.

‘I heard there’s a blood fiend skulking around you, Seo Han-gyeol. You might die if you’re unlucky, so be careful.’

Die? A blood fiend?

A few months ago, he might have just laughed it off. He’d been threatened before, and he’d faced dangerous moments because of sasaeng fans. But not now.

Just look at the world these days! Blood fiend incidents happen almost every day, and lately some unknown demon-like creature has appeared.

‘At least sasaengs are human. You can subdue them!’ But blood fiends weren’t that. If you encountered one, there was a 99.9% chance you’d die. Even if you survived that 0.1%, you’d be crippled or suffer fatal aftereffects.

‘Fuck...’ Han-gyeol wanted to cry. At first he’d tried a mental victory, telling himself it was nothing. But the tip had come from a B-grade participant, not an F like most of them—he couldn’t dismiss it. So he’d asked his agency to assign a bodyguard for awakened individuals. He couldn’t change managers, so at least a guard. He’d wanted to ask the Detention Bureau for protection, but who’d care about one actor?

He bit his nails and shook his leg. Then: beeping!

The door lock alarm sounded at the entrance. What was that? Who could it be? In his head, all kinds of scenarios grew, like a scared turtle pulling in its limbs.

‘A sasaeng? Or a blood fiend?’

He’d only been here a month, escaping sasaengs. This place was famous for tight security, home to many celebrities. The realtor said no outsider had ever broken in—so it couldn’t be a sasaeng. Then...

‘Must be a blood fiend.’ He knew a blood fiend couldn’t punch in the code, but panicked, he couldn’t think clearly. He glanced around and decided to flee to the terrace in case he needed to escape into the neighbor’s apartment. Pressing close to the terrace wall, he tried to hide his presence.

Moments later, he heard the door close and a familiar voice calling his name.

“Han-gyeol.”

It was his manager’s voice—but why did he hesitate to answer? His MBTI was 100% IN, imagination and intuition maxed out. Great for acting, but in a panic, poisonous. Why was the code wrong? He had no schedule—why visit? Didn’t he have the day off?

Above all...

‘What’s the chance this “human” manager is actually a blood fiend?’ Last night’s script flashed through his mind—titled The Pursuer. The S-grade awakened hero hiding his power notices his family behaving oddly, only to discover they’re blood fiends disguised as humans, and embarks on an adventure to find his real family. His agency head had handed it over as homework at the shoot. But reality beat drama. With demons around, no guarantee blood fiends wouldn’t pose as humans.

‘I think I read that blood fiends’ intelligence is evolving.’ His heart pounded. He assumed whoever inside was a blood fiend. How to escape?

‘What did the protagonist do?’ Inhaling slowly, Han-gyeol gripped the pepper spray he’d hidden on the terrace. “Hoo.” He’d snagged it when he slipped outside.

“Seo Han-gyeol~ he left his phone behind—where did he go? Bathroom?” The manager—now the fiend—stood up from the sofa.

‘Now!’ Bang! Han-gyeol flung the terrace door open, holding the spray out front. “Don’t move!” “...?” Startled, the manager froze, face turning pale, then:

“Why are you coming out from there?” “Answer my question within three seconds.” “Haah...” The manager sighed. “Why, what now?” “What are my parents’ names?” “What?” The manager laughed incredulously. “How would I know that? We’ve met fewer than five times. Father’s surname is probably Seo.”

He wasn’t family—how could he remember co-workers’ parents’ names? Han-gyeol sneered:

“See?” “You say the same thing every time.” The manager realized Han-gyeol was immersed in something again—after demanding a bodyguard out of the blue, now this. He looked around, spotted the script on the sofa. “Did you read that?” Suddenly Han-gyeol shouted again:

“Don’t move! I’ll really shoot you...!” He refocused the spray on the manager. “Fine, I give up.” The manager decided to play along—it’d be over soon. “Last chance. Get it wrong again—” “Okay, ask something about you, not weird stuff.” Something about himself... birthdays, phone number—his personal info was public anyway. But one thing the real manager would know:

“How many days exactly has it been since we started working together?!” The man bristled. “You kidding? How would I know that? Are we dating? In love?!” True—if he’d known the exact date, it would’ve creeped him out. The manager’s roar snapped Han-gyeol out of it. He lowered the spray, offering an awkward smile.

“Um... pass.” “Pass? Seriously? Ugh, you’re impossible.” The manager slapped Han-gyeol on the back. “Ouch! That hurt. But weren’t you scared? This is a real gun. It’s filled with gas.” “You’re unbelievably dramatic...” The manager sighed, shaking his head, then turned serious.

“Han-gyeol. If you go around doing this, you’ll ruin all the image we built. Got it?” “What’s wrong with me?” “Don’t ask me that.” “Honestly, I’m so perfect it’s a flaw. People need flaws to feel close.” “I’m losing it.” How to deal with this narcissist? The manager covered his face—being with Han-gyeol always embarrassed him.

“Also, you can’t have double standards. Look at those who do things behind your back—they get exposed and it’s over.” Han-gyeol made a throat-slitting gesture, laughing. He praised himself for being transparent all year round—easier for the agency to manage. No wonder Dispatch gave up on him. They were famous for tearing apart targets until they disappeared. Dozens of colleagues had vanished. They thrived on scandals: digging into stars’ private lives, then unleashing bombshells at their peak to stir public outrage.

“Did they follow me for over five years?” Having stayed at the top since his child actor days, he must’ve been juicy bait. But they couldn’t break him—raised strictly by a soldier father, he was first a human, then a star. Alcohol, cigarettes, clubs, women? He’d be beaten by his father before public scorn. So he never did anything to warrant rumors. Dispatch gave up after five years, finding only wholesome, boring material:

– Shopping with his mother

– Signing autographs for fans

– Repeating home, gym, acting lessons on break

– Eating spicy soup with friends and dancing in the street

A model citizen or a total bore. No personal scandals, a win–win for the agency. Apart from some narcissism, he did his job, was polite and considerate, and had a stellar reputation.

“At First Entertainment, I’m a gift that keeps on giving~” “Gift is pushing it...” The manager muttered. Han-gyeol was fine as an actor and person, but perfection and being difficult were different. He had a knack for driving people crazy—like now.

“Hyung, I’ve been thinking...” “No, don’t think. I’ll think.” “No, I feel we need to see a fortune teller. A friend says there’s one in Paju?” “Hah...” After a bodyguard, now a shaman? The manager wanted to quit.