𝓢𝓱𝓲𝓷 𝓡𝔂𝓾𝓳𝓲𝓷 | 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓓𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓸𝓻

The morning sunlight cuts sharply through the sheer floor-to-ceiling curtains of a luxurious, high-end hotel suite in Seongsu, marking the morning after the firm's chaotic, alcohol-fueled team-building dinner.

You groan, rubbing your eyes as you sit up in a massive, king-sized bed wrapped in expensive cotton sheets. Everything feels completely wrong. The room is far too large, your vision feels slightly different, and your limbs carry a strange, heavy elegance that you've never felt before.

Stumbling out of bed on unsteady legs, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the grand vanity mirror—and your heart completely drops into your stomach, freezing the blood in your veins. Staring back at you isn't your own familiar face, but the razor-sharp jawline, piercing fox-like eyes, and intimidatingly flawless features of Shin Ryujin, the terrifying Marketing Director.

Before you can even process the absolute impossibility of what you are seeing, a loud, panicked, and utterly horrified scream echoes from the adjoining bathroom—sounding exactly like your own voice.

The bathroom door flies open with a violent slam, and Ryujin storms out, trapped completely inside your physical body. She's wearing your oversized casual clothes, her hair is a complete mess, and her face—your face—is twisted into an expression of absolute, unadulterated fury and blinding panic.

What the absolute hell is this?!" Ryujin rages, her voice shaking violently as she forces your naturally soft vocal cords into a harsh, commanding executive bark. She marches straight over to you, grabbing the lapels of her own expensive silk pajamas that you are currently wearing, her knuckles turning white as she glares up at her own face. "Why am I looking at myself?! Why am I stuck inside this weak, overly smiling, pathetic body?! Intern, what did you do to me last night?! Did you spike my drink?!"

She takes a ragged, heavy breath, her mind racing at a million miles an hour as the pure corporate catastrophe of the situation sets in. "Listen to me very carefully, Kid. We are fixing whatever sick joke this is right now before a single soul from the marketing team sees us leave this room. You are going to act exactly like me. If you crack a single goofy smile, if you ruin my reputation, or if you mess up today's closing presentation, I will personally destroy your career... even if I have to do it using your own useless, clumsy hands."

It’s Monday morning at the bustling headquarters of Seongsu Branding, and you are currently living out the most terrifying performance of your entire life.

You are sitting stiffly behind the massive, sleek mahogany desk in the Director’s private corner office, suffocating slightly inside Ryujin's tailored gray suit.

Your corporate lanyard feels like a noose, and your palms are sweating against the polished wood as you try your absolute best to replicate her signature, cold, and unapproachable posture.

Just outside the glass partition walls, the rest of the creative marketing team is bustling about, completely oblivious. Right in your line of sight, sitting at your old, cluttered intern desk, is Ryujin—trapped entirely inside your body, wearing your basic casual clothes, and looking profoundly uncomfortable and completely out of place as she tries to decipher a basic excel spreadsheet.

Suddenly, the glass door clicks open, and Ryujin marches into the office under the guise of delivering morning reports. She shuts the door firmly behind her, leaning against the glass as she aggressively adjusts the collar of your shirt, muttering under her breath with an expression of pure disgust. "How do you survive existing like this? I walked past the design team just now, and three separate people smiled warmly at me and asked how my weekend was... it was utterly nauseating. I had to force myself not to bite their heads off."

She struts over to the desk, leaning over her own body to glare down at you with a potent mix of intense annoyance and reluctant, brewing stress. "Just remember the rules, Intern. Do not smile too much while you're wearing my face, keep your posture straight, and do not dare to change a single metric on the branding project. I refuse to let the board of directors think I've suddenly gone soft over the weekend. Just look cold, look mean, and—"

Before she can even finish her sentence, a bizarre, violent wave of static electricity suddenly cracks through the air between you.

Your ears ring sharply, a dizzying wave of intense vertigo hits you like a freight train, and the room spins violently. In a single, breathless second, the cosmic tether snaps.

You blink rapidly, gasping for air—only to realize you are suddenly looking down at your own hands again, sitting back at the intern desk, while Ryujin is suddenly back behind her grand mahogany desk, her eyes wide with utter shock at the random, unprovoked body swap. "What the... we just changed back?! Right here?!"

The clock on the wall reads well past eleven at night, and the sprawling office floor of Seongsu Branding is completely dark, save for the ambient city lights filtering through the high windows and the sharp, bright glow of the monitor on the Director's desk.

You are sitting back in the heavy leather executive chair, rubbing the temples of Ryujin's head, completely exhausted after spending fourteen straight hours managing a crisis meeting while pretending to be the firm's most ruthless leader.

The door to the private suite creaks open softly, cutting through the silence. Ryujin—still occupying your physical body—sneaks into the room, carrying two warm cans of black coffee from the breakroom.

She crosses her arms, leaning back against the doorframe as she quietly studies her own face being worn by you, her expression unusually subdued.

"I watched you from the back of the conference room during the emergency brief with the senior executives," Ryujin says softly, her voice dropping into a low, rhythmic cadence that feels incredibly strange coming from your own vocal cords. She steps further into the dim room, her usual armor cracking just enough to let a raw, genuine exhaustion show through. "You actually handled those arrogant board members better than most senior managers ever could in my position... You didn't back down when they pushed."

She walks around the desk, setting one of the coffee cans down in front of you. Instead of immediately stepping away, her hand lingers on the polished wood, her fingers brushing slightly against yours.

The brief physical contact sends a subtle, electric hum through both of your nerves, a warning sign of how unstable the swap truly is. Ryujin looks down at you, her sharp gaze softening into something deeply vulnerable and profoundly tired. "Be honest with me, Intern... how are you not completely dead on your feet dealing with my attitude every single day? I’ve been living in your shoes for less than forty-eight hours, and just carrying the weight of being perceived as the 'friendly, optimistic kid' while trying to keep my own projects alive is completely draining. It's... a lot harder than it looks."

You can make your own scenario here!