Evelina’s POV

  The afternoon sun bathed the streets in golden light, making the air feel warmer than it actually was. I walked beside Seonhui, her hand wrapped gently around mine, her grip light yet steady. There was something comforting about the way she held on—as if she wasn’t just guiding me, but offering a quiet sense of warmth I didn’t realize I had been missing.

  Ahead of us, Dmitry pushed the cart effortlessly, his posture straight and his movements disciplined despite the weight of the boxes. He was always like this—unfazed, efficient, and completely professional.

  Meanwhile, Seonhui continued talking about her son, Daniel. Her voice carried pride and love, but also deep worry, the kind only a mother could have.

  “He’s a good boy,” she said with a wistful smile. “Always tries his best, even when things are difficult.”

  I nodded, listening intently, though I already knew everything about Daniel Park. Still, hearing it from his mother felt… different. There was no narration, no speech bubbles, just raw emotion in every word she spoke.

  A loud beeping sound suddenly broke through the peaceful moment. Dmitry stopped in his tracks and checked his watch before gncing at me.

  "Госпожа, уже час дня." (Mistress, it’s already 1 PM.)

  I blinked, momentarily pulled from my thoughts. Time had passed quicker than I realized. "Позвони водителю." (Call the driver.)

  Dmitry gave a small nod and took out his phone. His expression didn’t change, but I could tell he was already making the necessary arrangements.

  Beside me, Seonhui looked confused. Her eyes darted between us, trying to decipher our conversation, but of course, she didn’t understand a word of Russian.

  She tilted her head slightly. “What was that?”

  I turned to her with a small, apologetic smile. “I need to go home now.”

  There was a brief flicker of disappointment in her expression, but it quickly melted into a gentle smile. She gave my hand a final squeeze before letting go.

  “Take care, dear,” she said softly.

  I was about to tell her that my driver wasn’t here yet, but before I could even open my mouth, a sleek bck luxury car pulled up in front of us.

  I closed my mouth.

  'Right. My people were never te'.

  Dmitry moved ahead without needing to be told, smoothly opening the car door for me.

  I turned back to Seonhui, giving her one st wave. “Goodbye, Mrs. Park. I’ll see you again soon.”

  Her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Of course, dear. Stay safe.”

  With that, I stepped inside the car, and Dmitry shut the door behind me.

  As we pulled away from the curb, I leaned back into the seat, letting out a small breath.

  Seonhui Park.

  Daniel’s mother.

  It was almost too surreal to process.

  I gnced at my reflection in the window, watching as the city blurred past us. Judging by Seonhui’s appearance—her worn clothes, her lightish brown hair—this must be episode five.

  I frowned slightly. How did I still remember that?

  I hadn’t reread Lookism in a while, but somehow, my brain had filed away the timeline perfectly. Maybe it was because of this new body—sharper, more intelligent, with a memory that seemed almost photographic.

  Either way, I wasn’t going to ignore it.

  'Daniel…'

  I never intended to get involved in the story. Messing with the plot could have consequences I couldn’t predict. But curiosity gnawed at me. He was one of my favorite characters—how could I just sit back and do nothing?

  I tapped my fingers against my knee, deep in thought.

  I’ll go to Seoul.

  Just to take a look. Nothing more.

  ==============================

  The neon glow of Seoul’s nightlife painted the streets in shifting colors as I stepped out of the car. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of street food and exhaust fumes. The atmosphere was lively—people chatting, ughter echoing from open storefronts, the distant hum of traffic filling the gaps in between.

  Beside me, Alexei stood stiffly, his posture screaming reluctance as he surveyed our surroundings. "Вы уверены, что хотите пойти сюда?" (Are you sure you want to go here?)

  His tone wasn’t accusatory, but there was definite skepticism ced within it.

  I turned to him with a smirk. "Что, магазин не соответствует вашему вкусу?"

  (What, is the store not to your liking?)

  His lips pressed into a thin line.

  "Я просто не думаю, что вам следует заходить в такие заведения, Лина."

  (I just don’t think you should enter such establishments, Lina.)

  I let out a quiet chuckle, shaking my head.

  "Поняла, но я все равно хочу войти."

  (Understood, but I want to go inside anyway.)

  Alexei let out a slow breath, as if accepting his fate. He didn’t argue further, but the way his jaw tensed told me he wasn’t happy about this little detour.

  The gss doors slid open with a soft chime as we stepped into the convenience store.

  The artificial brightness was almost blinding compared to the dim streets outside. The scent of instant ramen, coffee, and cheap fried food immediately filled my nose, making me nostalgic.

  Alexei, however, looked utterly out of pce. His tailored suit and sharp features cshed hiriously with the store’s casual, almost cluttered interior. He stood rigid, as if touching anything would somehow stain his dignity.

  I stifled a ugh.

  This wasn’t some grand event, but to me, it felt important.

  I am going to meet Daniel soon.

  And I wanted to see what would happen next.