Kame politely asked Joshen how he was managing his work and what exactly was expected of him on his very first day as an assistant.
Joshen replied in a sharp, indifferent tone,
"Do whatever you like. I'm not particularly interested in work."
Yet—something felt different.
His voice was undeniably rude, but not as venomous as it had been when he first spoke to Kame. Kame noticed it instantly.
Wasn't he supposed to be a walking waste of oxygen?
What changed?
Pushing those thoughts aside, Kame approached the other employees and carefully learned what his responsibilities were supposed to be.
To his surprise, it wasn't that bad.
Actually… this isn't unbearable. I might even be able to try.
His main task was to finalize the designs of selected clothing pieces and submit them for bulk production. After hours of exhausting work, something unexpected happened—Kame began to enjoy it.
For the first time in his life, he was freely executing his creativity.
The creativity he had never been allowed to show in his past life.
Design after design, sketch after sketch—time passed unnoticed.
Finally, after completing what felt like an endless mountain of work, Kame believed his day was over.
Or so he thought.
Joshen suddenly leaned in, his breath brushing against Kame's ear, and whispered in a disturbingly gentle, almost demonic politeness—
"Oh, how lovely you've done.
But the real work begins now, darling."
Kame froze.
Thump… thump…
His heartbeat echoed violently.
Then—
Crack.
Silence.
It was then revealed: everything Kame had done so far was merely the base level of his duties.
The real work—
was to put Joshen to sleep.
Every night.
By singing him a lullaby.
That was the true reason every previous assistant had resigned.
Joshen was not someone who would fall asleep to ordinary lullabies. He demanded extravagance, depth, emotion—something unreachable. And whenever the assistant failed, he would deliberately create chaos until they quit.
"Oh, Lord… no one can ever match my standards,"
he muttered in an imperious tone.
"What a tragedy."
Every life decision Kame had ever made had led him to this moment.
All his remaining brain cells gathered together in desperate unity—
(not that such a thing was biologically possible).
In sheer panic, Kame began narrating stories his late mother used to tell him as a child.
Stories about Jake's father—
a man married twice, whose first wife had died miserably in a tragic car accident.
Unexpectedly, Joshen found the story soothing.
His breathing slowed.
Minutes passed.
He fell asleep.
Kame stared at him in disbelief.
How far have I fallen… he thought.
Somewhere deep inside, Joshen forcefully restrained himself from becoming too attached to the story and drifted into uneasy sleep. Kame, completely exhausted, returned to his room and collapsed onto his bed.
The next morning, Joshen and Kame joined his family for breakfast.
To everyone's shock, Joshen was… polite.
After many years, his tone was calm, even respectful.
Mr. and Mrs. Gramela were stunned. Tears welled up in their eyes.
"Joshen, my beloved child," Mr. Gramela said with a trembling voice,
"Ask for anything you want."
To their absolute disbelief, Joshen did not demand luxury, wealth, or status.
Instead, he looked at his father—
and for the first time in his life, genuinely asked for advice.
"Dad… I know I'm turning sixty soon and have achieved nothing on my own,"
he said quietly.
"But… can you give your foolish son one more chance?"
Silence fell across the table.
Joshen continued,
"First, I want to figure out what I truly want to do as a career.
Then… I want to find a woman I can truly love and cherish."
Across the table, Kame muttered under his breath,
"What even is this? A family drama scene?"
He scoffed silently.
How does a terrible son change in one day?
What Kame didn't realize was that Joshen hadn't changed overnight.
The fragments of change had already formed in his mind.
Yesterday was simply the day he chose to execute them.
On the way to the worksite, Kame finally asked,
"Sir… how did this change happen so suddenly?"
To Kame's surprise, Joshen laughed arrogantly.
"What change?"
"Oh, that?"
He smirked.
"So you were fooled too? That little psychotic drama I staged for my parents?"
"How dumb you people are. A bit of good acting, and anyone can be deceived."
—Heh…
Hahaha…
Kha… KHAA-HAHAHA!
Joshen's laughter echoed demonically.
"And you seriously believed an absolute good-for-nothing brat like me could change just like that?"
The laughter was so sharp, so chilling, that Kame felt like the real fool.
After work ended, Kame already knew what awaited him at home.
That night, Joshen arrogantly declared he would sleep on his own.
Or so he thought.
At exactly 2 a.m., Joshen stood outside Kame's door.
He knocked.
Then entered.
"Sing the lullaby again," he said.
But this time—
Something was different.