PV Ch.22 Part 1

#22. Towards a Happy Ending

“…How are we supposed to build a house based on this?”

“If you look closely, it resembles a house. I can see it…” 

“Haa…” 

Han Biseong, pointing at the paper Bomin had handed him, sighed. Kim Seohun tried to defend Bomin. 

Even to him, it looked like a five-year-old’s drawing. But if he squinted, he could almost make out the shape of a mansion…

…Love truly was blind. 

“Let me explain. Come sit down.”

Bomin, his expression sullen, gathered everyone around him.

“This is the front gate, and these squares are windows. See? It’s clear once I explain it.”

“.….”

They all wondered why the front gate was shaped like an inverted triangle, but they wisely chose to remain silent.

“These circles are stepping stones. I’m going to make a big garden with stepping stones. And this is a swing.”

Their confusion only grew as he continued his explanation. 

“It’s… a good drawing…”

Kim Seohun, sensing the awkward silence, clapped his hands, praising Bomin’s art skills. Won Seongwoo, sitting beside him, looked at him as if he had lost his mind. 

“Even a child could draw better…” 

Kim Seohun quickly covered Won Seongwoo’s mouth with his hand. 

It was the first time they had been able to relax in months.

After ensuring Bomin’s safety, they had declared war on the Association President. Fortunately, Jeong Hotae had meticulously documented the President’s wrongdoings, and it hadn’t taken long for them to sway public opinion in their favor.

But it had still taken almost three months. Bomin, with nothing to do but wait, had spent his days counting down the hours until he could be reunited with them.

The Association President was now imprisoned, and Seok Changmu… well, his body was currently rotting in a dungeon somewhere, his neck broken. Bomin had visited him a few times, making sure to thoroughly stomp on his groin.

There were still some Non-K remnants, but they had dealt with most of the key figures. 

“This is the rooftop. Wouldn’t it be beautiful with colorful flowers?” 

Bomin scribbled circles on the top of the paper. It looked like a summoning circle.

“Oh, but shouldn’t we get going?”

“Why? If we go early, we’ll just be bored. Let’s wait until it starts.” 

Bomin, who had been engrossed in his explanation, looked up at the clock. 

Song Jaeho gently stroked his hair, shaking his head. 

“But you guys dumped all the hard work on Yoon Bisam. You should at least go and congratulate him properly.” 

“…I think he’d rather see us dead.”

Han Biseong’s face soured as he pictured Yoon Bisam, who hadn’t been happy about being nominated as the next President. 

The position was vacant, and the Espers had fought tooth and nail to avoid being selected. 

“Think about it. Won Seongwoo would just sleep all day if he were President. And you… you’d cause trouble every other day with that temper of yours.”

Song Jaeho leaned back against the sofa. Won Seongwoo and Han Biseong glared at him. 

“You’d be a good candidate, but you’re too new to the game. And this one… well, he’s out of the question.” 

He pointed at Shi Yu-hyeon and Jeong Hotae.

“You’re right. If Song Jaeho became President, he’d be the shortest-reigning President in history.” 

“…Are you mocking me right now?”

Song Jaeho’s lips twitched as Shi Yu-hyeon smiled sweetly. 

“Why are you fighting? It’s a good day. Be patient, Yu-hyeon-ssi.”

Bomin, sensing the tension, reached out, taking Song Jaeho and Shi Yu-hyeon’s hands, his fingers interlaced with theirs. 

“You’re always so carefree.”

Despite their seemingly peaceful facade, they were all on edge, their rivalry simmering beneath the surface. Like swans gliding gracefully on water, their legs paddling furiously beneath. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll build it for you.”

Jeong Hotae, who had been silent, took the paper from Bomin, folding it carefully. He pressed a kiss against Bomin’s ear, his words making the others stiffen. 

“Okay.”

Bomin, his cheeks flushed, smiled brightly, his arms wrapping around Jeong Hotae’s neck. 

“You’re not… going to share a room with just him… are you?”

Song Jaeho, feeling a pang of jealousy, tugged on Bomin’s sleeve. He couldn’t make sense of the drawing, but he could tell it was a huge mansion. 

“Of course not. Everyone gets their own room.” 

“Bomin-ah, remember our promise…?”

Kim Seohun hadn’t forgotten Bomin’s promise to give him the first room. 

“Of course, of course. Seohun gets the room next to mine.” 

“What about the other room next to yours?” 

“Should we draw lots?”

Bomin, sensing the tension escalating, offered a solution. He was happy that they all loved him, but he wished they would all get along. 

They were all so possessive, their personalities clashing. He knew they were holding back because he had no intention of settling down, but… 

Their repressed desires could explode at any moment. 

“I have an idea.”

Song Jaeho, grabbing a new sheet of paper and a pen, began sketching. A beautiful mansion appeared on the paper as his hand moved effortlessly. 

“You’re really good at drawing.” 

Bomin was impressed. His own drawing was… unique, but Song Jaeho’s skills were on a different level. 

“You want a big mansion, right? How about… we put your room in the center, and the other rooms around it, like this?”

He had drawn a circular mansion, Bomin’s room at the heart of it. It looked like a chiffon cake. 

“I like it. But… can you actually build a house like that?”

“Yes. I’ve seen something similar.” 

Bomin pictured the circular mansion in his mind. It was perfect. This way, they wouldn’t fight over who got which room.

And he didn’t mind his room being in the center.

“I can’t wait to see it finished.” 

He smiled, holding up the drawing, a wave of relief washing over him. He was finally free from Seok Changmu, and everyone had survived.

There was just one thing bothering him—the whereabouts of the original Bomin.

He was a mystery—same name, same face, same age, but a completely different personality. 

He hadn’t experienced any sense of discomfort inhabiting this body, but he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the original Bomin. 

There were psychics in this world too, some with powers far greater than those in the real world. 

He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone yet, except for Jeong Hotae, who had transmigrated with him.

Bomin kept his worries to himself, forcing a smile as he met each of their gazes. 

* * *

“Wow…”

“What do you think? It’s almost finished.”

“It’s amazing…”

Bomin’s jaw dropped as he gazed up at the massive mansion, his head tilted back.

The messy sketch Song Jaeho had drawn had come to life, even more magnificent than he had imagined. 

“And you can see the ocean.”

“We bought up all the land in this area.” 

They were on the east coast. The first thing they had done after acquiring the land—enough to be considered a small village—was to secure the perimeter, installing artifacts and eliminating any potential dangers so that Bomin and Kim Seohun could move around freely.

Song Jaeho, watching Bomin’s reaction, smiled, his chest swelling with pride. It had cost him a fortune, but seeing Bomin this happy… it was worth every penny.

“But… there’s no way my contribution was enough to cover all of this…”

Bomin trailed his fingers along the wall surrounding the mansion, his gaze questioning. 

He had wanted to build this mansion with his own money. The land near the coast might have been cheaper, but this much land… it had to have cost a fortune. And the building materials they had used were top quality. 

“You’re not the only one living here. We’re all pitching in. You contributed the most, so don’t worry about it.”

Song Jaeho ruffled his hair playfully. Bomin, even though he wasn’t good with money, knew Song Jaeho was lying. 

“Okay. I’ll make sure to earn a lot of money.” 

Bomin hugged Song Jaeho, his forehead resting against his neck. They stood there for a moment, their bodies close. 

“Bomin-ah, you’re here?” 

Jeong Hotae, emerging from the mansion, took Bomin’s hand, pulling him away. They had hired professionals for the parts that required specialized skills, but they were all actively involved in the construction. 

Jeong Hotae was the most enthusiastic. His situation was still… delicate, so he had more free time than the others.

“I just got here. Look at you, all sweaty.” 

Bomin nestled against him, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

‘You sly fox.’

‘You’re one to talk.’

Jeong Hotae and Song Jaeho exchanged glares. Bomin, sensing the tension, looked back and forth between them.

“You can fight all you want, but if you get hurt, I’m not talking to either of you.”

His voice was cold, a tone they rarely heard from him. They both looked away, nodding meekly. In this relationship, the one who loved more was always at a disadvantage.

They knew Bomin loved them, but his affection was… broad. And Jeong Hotae, after the way he had treated Bomin, had no right to complain.