Separate from the chaos in Eddie’s head, work still had to be done, so he busied himself again that afternoon.
Ketron, who was still in bad shape, was gently coaxed into lying down in bed. Eddie softly patted his chest to help him fall asleep peacefully.
“I hope while Ket’s sleeping, ab~solutely no one makes a sound so he can rest properly.”
“……”
“I mean it. Ab~solutely no one.”
He even made sure to give the sacred sword a look—just in case it tried to say something to Ketron while he was asleep.
After confirming Ketron had closed his eyes, Eddie left the room. Outside, the yard had been dirtied from the earlier commotion in front of the inn. He called out to Gerold, who had been busy cleaning up and taking care of miscellaneous tasks.
“Gerold, let’s try out the new menu.”
It was about time to test the new dish that would soon be launched.
Gerold quickly absorbed the recipe Eddie had finalized after much thought.
From the start, Gerold was naturally skilled with his hands, and with magic aiding him, his speed was remarkable. He was, in effect, doing the work of ten people all by himself.
But watching him didn’t fill Eddie with pride—it made him feel a little guilty.
Was this really okay, this inn of Eddie’s?
That thought popped into his head. If this were modern-day Korea, they’d have been reported to the Labor Ministry already.
Eddie was the one making the plans, but it was always Gerold doing all the hard labor. And considering that he even delivered that message from someone called “E” today… just how many roles was he juggling?
“It’s done.”
While Eddie was lost in his tangled thoughts, Gerold had already completed a full set of the morning’s new menu.
“Wow.”
Despite the mental mess, Eddie couldn’t help but let out an honest gasp. The glossy udon noodles shimmered under the light, the broth was clear, and beside it sat a bowl of rice topped with a jiggly soft-boiled egg, fragrant sesame oil, and just the right splash of soy sauce.
A fresh salad and meat dishes—made from ingredients Gerold had personally bought at the market—rounded out the meal, and despite having already eaten, Eddie felt his appetite stir at the almost magical appeal of it all.
It was true—familiar flavors were the most dangerous.
But the moment of bliss didn’t last long. If anything, it only made Eddie’s weak sense of guilt prickle harder.
Cleaning, dishwashing, cooking, serving—Eddie had left almost everything to Gerold.
“Uh, um. Gerold.”
Eddie scratched his cheek awkwardly as he called him.
“Yes?”
As always, Gerold answered obediently.
After hesitating for a second, Eddie finally spoke up slowly.
“Gerold… what do you think of me?”
Wait—now that he’d said it, the wording sounded kind of…
It sounded a little too loaded, and Eddie instinctively waved his hands as if trying to dismiss the implication. But Gerold simply looked at him quietly and said,
“A servant does not need to have opinions. He only follows.”
“…Huh?”
Eddie blinked, taken off guard by the answer, but Gerold continued speaking matter-of-factly.
“I am your hands and feet.”
“……”
“And hands and feet do not betray their master.”
There wasn’t a hint of hesitation in his voice, as he declared himself willing to be Eddie’s limbs.
“Always do as you wish.”
I will follow you, Eddie-nim.
That was the end of it. Gerold, who rarely spoke at length, fell silent.
Eddie stared blankly at the man who had just declared himself a servant.
Before calling himself Eddie’s hands and feet, Gerold had referred to himself as Eddie’s servant.
Whose? Eddie’s.
Right. Now that he thought about it…
Eddie finally realized something he’d overlooked.
Gerold had always called him “Eddie-nim,” using the highest form of honorific. A regular employee might have said “boss” or just “Eddie-ssi.”
But Gerold always used “Eddie-nim.” As though Eddie was someone to be served, not just someone who ran an inn.
It was as if the focus of loyalty wasn’t the inn—but Eddie himself.
Only now did Eddie realize how mistaken he’d been.
Gerold wasn’t just a competent employee of Eddie’s Inn.
He was a loyal subordinate of Eddie.
He only worked at the inn because Eddie chose to run it.
That might sound like a small difference, but in truth, it was massive.
Eddie stared wordlessly at the man who had declared himself his servant. Gerold’s face may have looked cold, and he certainly had a cynical edge to him, but since the moment Eddie had woken up in this world, Gerold had always been faithful to him.
The only time he’d ever opposed Eddie’s decisions or shown discontent was when Ketron was brought into the inn.
Aside from that, no matter the task, no matter how ridiculous, Gerold had never complained or pushed back.
Realizing all this, Eddie made a decision.
“…Gerold.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll hire a new staff member.”
Eddie said it with firm resolve. He saw the confusion in Gerold’s blue eyes as he tilted his head, clearly puzzled how the conversation had led to that conclusion.
But Eddie was completely serious.
If Gerold existed for Eddie—
Then the inn needed someone who existed for it.
That, and—well, no matter how loyal Gerold was, overworking him still felt like worker abuse, and that thought just wouldn’t leave Eddie’s head.
Naturally, Gerold accepted the decision without a single question and nodded.
“I’ll make and post the flyers.”
Of course, Eddie didn’t realize until a bit later that this, too, just added another task to Gerold’s workload.
* * *
Flop.
“Ugh…”
Eddie collapsed onto the bed, physically drained. By then, the sky had long since turned dark.
This morning, he thought the biggest event of the day would be finalizing the breakfast menu. But as if mocking him, the day had hit him with one unimaginable incident after another.
Augustine’s appearance. Ketron’s breakdown. The message from E. The Emperor. Gerold.
And, Eddie himself.
“……”
He let out a heavy sigh and buried his face into the pillow.
Out of everything, Ketron’s unstable condition weighed on him most. But the most shocking thing was the original Eddie.
It was something he’d thought about many times before—what kind of person was the “Eddie” of the novel, really?
Owner of a run-down inn, yes—but in a strangely prime location. No family, no friends.
The only person around him was a mage—Gerold—who seemed far too talented to be doing odd jobs in a dump like this.
And then there was the fact that the forgotten hero, Ketron, had collapsed right in front of Eddie’s Inn.
…Was all that really just coincidence?
Back when he first saw Ketron lying there, Eddie had thought, “What an unbelievable stroke of luck.”
He’d even thought maybe his fortune had finally turned.
But what if none of it was luck?
What if everything—including himself—was being manipulated by some force behind the scenes?
What if he was nothing more than a pawn on a board?
If that were true, then what role was “Eddie” meant to play? Why did Lee Jeong-hoon become Eddie, of all people?
The more Eddie pondered it, the more he felt a sharp prickling in his chest—like guilt crawling under his skin.
From the moment he possessed this body, a part of him had always carried guilt.
The sense that he had stolen Eddie’s life.
Unless the body had belonged to someone already dead, every possessor must struggle with that question at some point.
And this was his second life. Most people only get one, so this was essentially a bonus.
But if that bonus came at someone else’s expense—if it had been taken—then that was a burden Eddie couldn’t ignore.
All of this may have started without his consent, an accident beyond his control… but what if some divine being appeared now and said, “Oops, our bad. Can we have that body back?”
Would he be able to give it up, just like that?
“……”
Probably not. Because he wasn’t Lee Jeong-hoon anymore—he was Eddie now.
Eddie let out another sigh. One sigh didn’t cut it. His chest felt tight.
This feeling—he hadn’t felt it since the early days, when he first died and tried to accept it. It was a vague sense of despair, the kind that made a person feel utterly small.
A mood that dragged him down.
Sleep. Yeah. Sleep was the best thing in times like this.
Sinking into that foggy state, Eddie curled up and shut his eyes.
Whether it was emotional exhaustion or something else, Eddie fell asleep so quickly, it was like his mind just shut off.
How long had he slept?
At some point deep in the night, Eddie’s eyes snapped open.
He blinked in confusion, disoriented from having fallen asleep so abruptly—and that’s when he realized.
He wasn’t alone.
Under the cover of early dawn, someone had entered his room.