Chapter 09
…Whether I should continue this detective agency work or not.
‘Having my own house and job was nice, but…’
Memories of my past life suddenly came back.
As someone who grew up in an orphanage, I had neither proper qualifications nor connections, so I drifted from one low-quality job to another.
No matter how hard I worked, my employment was unstable. I had no money, no home, and every day was a struggle.
But what tormented me the most was the feeling that no one needed me.
That fear and anxiety drove me to even join the worst kind of black company—one with a 1.0 rating.
Because I believed them when they said I’d be made a full-time employee if I worked hard.
I thought I just had to endure…
But as if it were a lie, the company collapsed.
Sitting next to the company computer I took in place of my unpaid wages, I thought seriously:
‘Is there really no place for me in this world?’
I didn’t even have the things everyone else had—family, friends.
It felt like everyone else was building their own stories, while I alone had no role at all.
That’s why I became even more absorbed in possession novels.
Because in those stories, no matter how small, everyone has a role to play.
So when I woke up in the agency and realized I had been possessed, I was truly happy.
It felt like I had finally been given the special role I always dreamed of.
‘Yeah… it was only good up to that point.’
Who would’ve thought that role would be a detective catching runaway female leads?
To be satisfied with this life…
Isn’t this way too extreme of a job?
But the system seems determined to make me a detective, even giving me cheat-like abilities.
Is this really okay…?
“……”
“AAAH!”
I absentmindedly turned my head—and screamed in shock when I met a pair of eyes.
Damon was standing at the doorway, staring at me.
Since when had he been there?!
“If you were here, you could’ve said something…”
“……”
He kept his mouth shut like a clam, offering no response.
“Anyway, you washed up well—”
But I couldn’t finish my sentence.
Drops of water were falling from his hair onto the wooden floor.
“ Mold!”
“……?”
“If water drips on wood, mold grows— I mean, you’ll catch a cold if you don’t dry your hair properly.”
I almost worried about the office before the person.
Even while thinking about quitting this job, I guess I’d grown a bit attached.
Awkwardly, I pointed to the fireplace.
“If you dry it here, it’ll dry quickly.”
“……”
After staring at my finger for a moment, Damon slowly walked toward the fireplace.
Then he awkwardly started touching his hair.
At an incredibly frustrating pace.
I guess he was trying to “dry” it in his own way.
“Give it here.”
As a former Korean, I couldn’t stand watching that.
I took the towel and dried his hair myself.
His thin shoulders stiffened immediately.
“Relax. I’m just drying it so you don’t catch a cold. The house is old, so there’s a draft.”
I meant it kindly, but for some reason Damon only became more awkward.
As I focused on drying his hair, I noticed steam rising from the kettle I had set earlier.
I poured the hot water into a mug and added a bit of honey from the cupboard.
“If you drink something warm, it’ll help you feel better.”
“……”
“Here, you can drink it.”
“……”
No response. He’s like a perfectly normal corpse.
Did I accidentally bring home a zombie?
“…You don’t have to do this.”
After what felt like an eternity, Damon finally spoke.
His voice was completely flat, devoid of emotion.
“You don’t need to be kind to me like this. If you have something you want me to do, just order me.”
“Something to do?”
“……”
He lowered his gaze to the steaming cup.
“Anything difficult…”
“Something difficult…”
I set the cup down and thought of something a child might do.
“Like cleaning the attic?”
“……”
I said it while thinking about the second floor I couldn’t even climb because of the dust.
But there was no answer.
Do kids here usually do harder labor?
I wasn’t really into that.
Then the silent boy spoke again.
“As long as it’s not killing someone.”
“…What?”
A completely unexpected word came out.
“As long as it’s not that, I don’t mind.”
“W-what? What are you talking about?”
Where did that come from?
Weren’t we just talking about cleaning the attic?
Did I accidentally say something like “follow my orders if you want to live”?
As I stared in disbelief, Damon narrowed his eyes.
There was caution and suspicion in them.
“I don’t know what you’re planning by being this kind…”
“Wait a second.”
“But no matter what happens, I won’t take someone’s life—”
“No, listen to me!”
At least hear me out!
Only then did he fall silent again.
Wow… I don’t even know where to begin.
“I’m not planning to make you do anything. That’s not why I brought you here.”
“……”
I thought I explained it clearly, but he showed no reaction.
So I added more.
“You can just rest here and leave later.”
“Leave…?”
His eyes widened.
His purple eyes trembled.
“I don’t know what misunderstanding you have, but I just… saved you because you seemed in danger. I’m not expecting anything in return.”
“……”
“So once it’s morning, you can—”
Before I could finish, Damon suddenly stood up.
Then he looked around and started walking toward the stairs.
“H-hey… where are you going?”
I wasn’t done talking!
“…To clean the attic.”
He said flatly.
“You’re going to do that now?”
“……”
He moved so quickly that he had already found cleaning tools from somewhere.
Where did he even find those? I couldn’t all day.
“Leave it. I was going to do it.”
“But you didn’t. Doesn’t that mean you weren’t going to?”
Ugh. That hit right where it hurts.
“Still, it’s not your job! You can just rest and leave, so why—”
“…Because I’m not needed.”
He muttered gloomily while grabbing the broom.
“You’re going to throw me away because I’m not needed.”
“What are you—”
“I’ll prove my usefulness.”
His grip on the handle turned pale.
He tried to remain calm, but his trembling eyes gave him away.
I don’t understand.
Why is he trying so hard when no one asked him to?
And what does he mean by proving his usefulness?
Before he could do anything else, I stepped forward and took the broom away.
Seeing his hands covered in dust made me sigh.
“I just washed you, and now you’re dirty again.”
“……”
I grabbed a random cloth nearby and wiped his hands.
His pale hands were full of blisters and calluses.
They were far too rough to belong to a child.
My chest tightened.
He must have gone through a lot.
That’s why—even with someone he just met—he’s afraid of being abandoned…
“That’s a rag.”
“…Sorry.”
Turns out I was the one making things worse.
I tossed the rag aside.
We’ll just wash his hands properly later.
Damon quietly stared at his now-clean (or maybe not) hands.
He opened his mouth a few times, then lowered his gaze.
“Please take me in.”
The shadow of his long eyelashes fell over his neat face.
As if trying to suppress his anxiety, Damon clenched his fist tightly.
“Rather than being unnecessary… rather than being thrown away for being useless…”
He slowly met my eyes again.
But his dark eyes revealed no emotion.
“It’s better to be used.”
The moment I heard that—
I finally understood why Damon was trying so hard.
