"Inject the sedative if he keeps resisting. Don't let them find out he's still alive. Erase all traces of his identity and replace it with the one I gave you.""Understood, Sir."Those cold eyes stared blankly—mercilessly—at the helpless figure now lying limp, pinned down by four bodyguards gripping each of his limbs. Pale lips trembled slightly, whispering a faint plea filled with desperation."Weaken every nerve and muscle in his body," the cold voice spoke again.The doctor in the room could only obey the command. He didn't have the courage to refuse. He ignored the soft, broken murmurs coming from the barely conscious young man on the table.
"...Please…h-help…me…"
South Korea.
From today on, this country would be his new home—at least while he pursued his studies. A fresh environment, filled with strangers and unknown streets, where his life story would continue to be written.Xian Alviando, a sweet-natured 20-year-old, had been lucky enough to receive a scholarship to study in Korea.He pushed aside every negative thought, replacing it with hopes and dreams—his dream of becoming a psychiatrist. He had left behind the aunt who had cared for him for the past ten years in Indonesia. And after enduring rigorous selection rounds, Xian now stood on Korean soil, a gentle smile on his lips as he breathed in the fresh air of the so-called Land of Morning Calm.
"Welcome to Korea~" he whispered, his eyes sparkling as they took in his surroundings.His bright round eyes scanned Incheon Airport with a look of amazement, almost like a lost child in the middle of a crowd. He had traveled alone, and it seemed the university hadn't sent anyone to pick him up.
"Where's the exit gate?" he muttered, scratching his head in confusion.Too shy to ask for directions, Xian pouted slightly, pulling his suitcase along and choosing to follow the passengers from his flight.Xian could easily be described as petite. Standing at just 168 cm, his build was neither too skinny nor too muscular. With a soft, cute face, people often mistook him for a tomboyish girl. Blame his delicate lips and long lashes—features that often left people mesmerized.He was well-liked by many. But Xian was still just Xian—a kind-hearted, gentle, cheerful boy with a soft heart.That's why he wanted so badly to become a psychiatrist—to help people. It was his biggest dream.His mixed Chinese-Korean blood came from his mother, which explained his first name. His last name, Alviando, came from his Indonesian father—or so his aunt told him. Xian didn't remember much from his childhood. He'd only seen his parents' faces from a single photograph his aunt kept. He only had one picture of himself as a child.
"Whoa~ The dorm is huge!"
Xian's eyes sparkled as he took in the towering, glass-paneled building in front of him. The architecture was stunning, and the sheer size of it made him excited about the life he was about to start there.
"Hehehe," he giggled at his own imagination.
"Um…where's the front door? I can't tell the difference between a window and a door…" he muttered, tilting his head from side to side in confusion.
Call him clueless if you must, but the dorm building was indeed massive. The front was covered entirely in glass, and every single door was shut tight. No obvious entryway. Nothing looked like a proper entrance.
TAP!
"Ahh!" Xian jumped, startled by a sudden tap on his shoulder from behind.
"Oops! Sorry—did I scare you?" the man asked.
Xian nodded slightly, then quickly shook his head.
"Yes—um, no! I was surprised, but just a little!" he stammered, nervously clenching his fists behind his back.
The stranger chuckled softly at Xian's reaction. He gazed at him with warm eyes.
"Forget it. So…are you a new student?" he asked, giving Xian a once-over, glancing briefly at the black suitcase beside him.
Flustered by the attention, Xian just nodded, his bangs bouncing with every movement.
"What major did you choose?" the man asked again.
"Me?" Xian blinked, receiving a charming smile in return.
"Um… Psychiatry?" he replied uncertainly.
The man chuckled again. The way Xian had turned the question back on him was amusing.
"Oh, and... are you a senior here?" Xian asked politely.
The man folded his arms and gave a thoughtful hum.
"Yeah, I'm two years ahead of you. But don't call me 'senior'... Just call me hyung. It's better that way," he said with a teasing grin.
Xian blinked, forehead slightly wrinkled as if processing something complicated.
"Two years? Really?" he asked, eyeing the man's appearance with curiosity, lips puckered in thought.
The man nodded again with a mischievous smile.
"You don't believe me?"
Xian shook his head and pointed to the larger suitcase behind the man.
"Then... why are you carrying a suitcase? Moving into the dorm too?" he asked innocently, oblivious to how the man struggled to hold back laughter.
"D-did I say something wrong?" Xian asked with a sheepish look.
"N-no! That's not it. Just—ah, never mind. Don't you want to go inside?"
Xian's face lit up. Yes! That's exactly what he wanted—to go in, especially with someone who actually knew where the door was.
"Let's go! I'm lost on my own. There's no door!" he complained half-jokingly, making the older boy chuckle again.
This kid… no, teenager. The man thought Xian was unbelievably innocent—blurting out every thought without filter. Shouldn't he be a little more guarded, just to avoid embarrassing himself?
If he hadn't been there, Xian might've been laughed at by others already.
"Hm? Oh! Yeah, let's go."
The two walked side by side, with Xian cheerfully dragging his suitcase and carrying a black backpack on his shoulders.
Meanwhile, in another place, the air was thick with tension.
Servants froze mid-step, stunned by the thundering voice that came from their master's office.
"ARE YOU BLIND?! HOW COULD YOU GRAB THE WRONG ONE?!"
The fury in that voice was like a sudden lightning strike—no warning, no storm clouds, just raw, violent rage.
One of the men trembled, head bowed low, his body stiff with fear. His heart pounded wildly, convinced he might lose his life at any second.
"I-I'm sorry, S-sir… I thought it was y-your bag, so I took it. I-I didn't know it got switched…"
His trembling voice was met with a sharp scoff from the man he called "Sir."
"Switched, huh? Should I teach you how to get it back then?" he hissed threateningly.
"Y-yes, Sir! I'll retrieve it right away!" the man stammered, bowing deeply before fleeing the room.
"Jackson."
"Yes, Sir," came a response from another man, stepping out from behind the bookshelf.
"Find my bag. And… deal with him."
"Understood."
Back in the dorm, Xian was unpacking his things. He paused when he reached for his laptop on the desk.
His hand began to tremble. A strange weakness drained his body.
"Oh God… did I take the wrong bag?" he whispered.
The lock screen on the laptop was unfamiliar—definitely not his.
He remembered clearly which bag was his. There was no way he had grabbed the wrong one at the airport… and yet, now he wasn't so sure.
Panic set in. He had just arrived in Korea and already, trouble had found him.
He could only pray this wouldn't turn into something worse.
"Should I go there?" Xian sat quietly, staring at the business card in his hand—found inside the wallet from the bag.
"I hope the owner's a kind person…"