Chapter 1 — The Night Everything Ended

“And the award for Best Actor of the Year 2044 goes to…”

The presenter glanced down at the card in his hand before lifting his gaze toward the audience. A smile slowly spread across his face.

“Armin, for Psycho Sis!”

Thunderous applause exploded throughout the grand hall.

Music swelled as the giant LED screen displayed the image of a handsome man in a black suit rising gracefully from his seat. Though already in his late forties, still possessed the charm and elegance that had captivated audiences for decades.

With a bright smile, he bowed politely to the crowd before embracing the actor seated beside him and walking toward the stage.

Every step felt unreal.

The golden trophy placed into his hands was heavy—solid proof of every sacrifice he had made throughout his career.

Armin stood before the microphone, his warm light-brown eyes reflecting the dazzling lights above him.

“First of all,” he began softly, “I have to say that taking on this role in Psycho Sis was one of the greatest challenges of my acting career.”

A small laugh escaped him.

“And I’m truly grateful that all the hard work and dedication paid off.”

The audience applauded once more.

“I want to thank Director Pedro, the staff, and all my fellow actors who helped make this project perfect. Thank you to every fan who has continued supporting me until today…”

His voice paused briefly.

Then his expression softened.

“And most importantly… Charlie, my beloved partner.”

Whistles and teasing cheers erupted from the audience immediately.

Armin laughed helplessly before continuing.

“If you’re watching this right now, I want to thank you for always being my support and my reason to keep moving forward.”

His smile became gentler.

“I love you.”

The crowd burst into louder applause.

After a few more closing remarks, Armin stepped down from the stage with the trophy still clutched tightly in his hands.

Tonight was perfect.

Or at least… it should have been.

—

The awards ceremony continued for another hour before the after-party officially began.

“Armin, don’t tell me you’re really leaving already?” the actress who had worked alongside him asked teasingly.

Armin smiled apologetically.

“No. Please enjoy yourselves without me.”

“Oh~ Someone’s rushing home to celebrate with Mr. Charlie, huh?”

The actor only smiled knowingly in response.

Because it was true.

After saying goodbye to everyone, Armin quietly slipped out through the back entrance of the venue.

Cold night air brushed against his face.

The excitement from winning still lingered in his chest as he held the heavy golden trophy close.

Almost unconsciously, his eyes searched the area around him.

Searching for someone.

But after several moments, he sighed softly.

(They probably didn’t come this year either…)

Just as he lowered his gaze, a familiar voice suddenly called out.

“Mr. Armin, please wait a moment.”

Armin turned immediately.

The moment he recognized the man standing there, his tired expression softened.

“It’s you.”

The bodyguard bowed respectfully before presenting him with a large bouquet of deep red roses.

“My boss asked me to give this to you. Congratulations.”

Armin accepted the flowers carefully before noticing the small white card attached to them.

Elegant handwriting filled the card.

Congratulations on your success.

I will always support you.

— TD

A faint smile unconsciously curved onto Armin’s lips.

TD.

His mysterious fan.

For over twenty years, this person had remained by his side from the shadows. Every holiday. Every achievement. Every difficult moment.

Flowers.

Gifts.

Letters.

Always there.

And yet… never once appearing personally.

At first, Armin had found the attention unsettling. Whoever TD was, they clearly possessed considerable influence within the entertainment industry.

But as time passed and no harm ever came from it, Armin gradually became accustomed to the mysterious supporter.

By now, he even found himself waiting for the flowers each year.

“Please thank your boss for me,” Armin said gently. “And tell them to take care of their health. It’s getting cold lately.”

As he spoke, his eyes drifted briefly toward the black Mercedes-Benz parked silently across the street.

Its dark tinted windows concealed everything inside.

(Still unwilling to meet me in person, I see…)

Inside the car, a middle-aged man watched Armin quietly from behind the tinted glass.

Sharp eyes followed the actor’s figure without wavering for even a second.

A slow smile appeared on the man’s lips after hearing the message relayed back to him.

Warmth spread faintly through his chest.

Because even after all these years… Armin still cared enough to say those words.

Only after the actor disappeared from sight did the black Mercedes-Benz finally drive away into the night.

The owner of the roses never imagined…

That this would be the last time he would ever see Armin alive.

—

10:50 PM.

Armin stood frozen outside his bedroom door.

At first, he didn’t understand why his body had suddenly gone cold.

Then he heard it.

Moans.

Heavy breathing.

The rhythmic creaking of the bed.

For a long moment, Armin simply stood there in silence.

Tonight was supposed to be the happiest night of his life.

The night he won Best Actor.

The night he publicly confessed his love before the entire country.

He had imagined Charlie waiting excitedly for him at home.

He had imagined being hugged the moment he walked through the door.

Instead…

Reality shattered everything.

In one hand, Armin still held the golden award trophy.

In the other, the bouquet of roses.

Time seemed to stop completely.

Finally, the sounds inside the room quieted.

Slowly, Armin lowered the flowers onto the floor beside the door.

Then he opened it.

Click.

The sound startled the two men on the bed instantly.

Charlie’s face turned deathly pale.

“D-Darling…?! Why are you home so early?”

Beside him, another young man hurriedly grabbed scattered clothes from the floor, unable to even look Armin in the eyes.

“M-Mr. Armin, I…”

Armin recognized him immediately.

A rising actor.

Someone he had personally helped enter the entertainment industry.

Someone he had trusted.

The room suddenly felt suffocating.

His chest tightened painfully.

His trembling hand gripped the award tighter and tighter.

Betrayal.

Humiliation.

Anger.

Everything exploded together inside him.

“How could you do this to me…?”

His voice shook violently.

“How could you sleep with my lover?!”

Without warning, Armin lunged forward and swung the heavy trophy toward the younger actor.

Bang!

The man barely blocked the attack in time.

“Darling, stop! Are you crazy?!” Charlie shouted as he rushed forward to restrain him.

But the touch only fueled Armin’s fury further.

“Don’t touch me!”

The younger actor touched the corner of his bleeding lip before swearing angrily.

“Damn it!”

Armin raised the trophy again.

But this time, the younger man retaliated.

A powerful punch slammed directly into Armin’s face.

The trophy slipped from his grasp and crashed onto the floor.

Before he could recover, a violent kick struck his chest, throwing him backward.

“Armin!”

Charlie screamed.

But it was too late.

As Armin fell, the back of his head struck the sharp base of the fallen trophy with a sickening sound.

Everything went silent.

Warm blood spread rapidly across the floor beneath him.

The bouquet of roses lay abandoned beside the doorway.

His vision blurred.

The voices around him became distant and distorted.

Coldness slowly swallowed his body whole.

And then—

Darkness.

ARMIN

Chapter 2 — Back to the Beginning

The loud ringing of a phone abruptly dragged someone awake.

Curled beneath thin blankets, slowly opened his eyes, confusion filling his light-brown gaze.

The ceiling above him looked painfully familiar.

So did the faded walls.

The cramped apartment.

The old wooden cabinet near the window.

His breathing faltered.

“…What?”

A sharp headache throbbed through his skull as fragments of memory flooded his mind.

The award ceremony.

Charlie.

Blood.

Darkness.

Wasn’t he supposed to be dead?

The phone stopped ringing for several seconds before starting again insistently.

Still dazed, Armin reached toward the bedside table and grabbed the device.

The moment he saw the phone, his expression froze.

It was an old model.

A phone he hadn’t used in decades.

Slowly, his gaze dropped toward his own hands.

Smooth skin.

No wrinkles.

No signs of aging.

His pupils trembled violently.

“…Impossible.”

The ringing continued.

Almost mechanically, Armin answered the call.

“Yes?”

A harsh irritated voice exploded from the other side immediately.

“Took you long enough to answer. I thought you died in that room already! What’s wrong with this flu of yours? Can you come to the shoot tomorrow or not? It’s the final scene, don’t make everyone suffer because of you.”

Armin went completely silent.

He recognized that voice instantly.

His first manager.

The man who had nearly destroyed his acting career before it even began.

The same person who once tried to force him into becoming an investor’s plaything just to secure resources.

The same person who abandoned him the moment he stopped being profitable.

Armin’s eyes gradually turned cold.

“What shoot?”

“What shoot? Are you stupid from the fever now?” the man snapped impatiently. “Throne of Power! Read your damn script and show up before ten tomorrow morning. I’m busy, so don’t create problems for me again.”

Armin lowered his gaze quietly.

“Understood.”

Then he ended the call calmly.

No anger.

No argument.

No pleading.

The manager stared at his disconnected phone in shock.

Because for the first time…

Armin hadn’t complained.

—

For nearly an hour, Armin sat motionless on the edge of the bed.

Trying to process reality.

He had really returned.

Returned to the past.

Returned to when he was still young.

Returned to before everything was ruined.

A bitter smile slowly appeared on his lips.

“Am I dreaming…?”

No answer came.

Only silence filled the tiny apartment.

Eventually, Armin exhaled softly and rubbed his face.

Whether this was a dream, a miracle, or punishment from fate…

He would accept it.

This time—

He would live differently.

Slowly, memories from this period resurfaced.

This was the beginning of his downfall.

Back then, despite his exceptional looks, his acting had been terrible.

Wooden.

Awkward.

Emotionless.

After appearing in a youth drama years ago, viewers mocked him endlessly online.

A handsome vase.

A walking wooden plank.

Painful to watch.

Because of that reputation, he could only receive tiny supporting roles afterward.

His agency completely gave up on him.

They invested in younger actors with better talent while tossing him aside to struggle alone.

Most of the roles he received barely lasted a few episodes before dying.

Ironically…

Compared to the future betrayal and death waiting ahead of him, this period now seemed almost peaceful.

Armin stood up and looked around the apartment.

The room was disastrously messy.

Clothes were piled everywhere.

Instant noodle cups littered the table.

And buried beneath several sauce-stained takeout boxes was the script for Throne of Power.

He sighed helplessly before picking it up.

“This really was my dark age…”

Sitting down quietly, he began reading the script carefully.

The role wasn’t large.

He played the Fifth Prince—the younger brother of the male lead.

A tragic character who rushed forward during battle to block an arrow for his brother before dying dramatically after delivering several emotional lines.

In the past, this kind of scene had been incredibly difficult for him.

But now?

For someone who had already won Best Actor…

This was nothing.

Even so, Armin didn’t relax.

For the next several hours, he repeatedly practiced every line in front of the mirror.

Expressions.

Tone.

Breathing.

Emotion.

Again and again.

Only after completely understanding the character did he finally stop.

By then, the sky outside had already darkened.

Armin glanced around the filthy apartment once more.

His eyebrows twitched.

“…No wonder nobody wanted to visit me.”

Three exhausting hours later, the apartment was finally clean.

Armin collapsed onto the floor tiredly and stared at the ceiling.

The clock showed nearly five in the evening.

He hadn’t eaten anything all day.

“No wonder I’m starving…”

Dragging himself up, he headed toward the bathroom.

As warm water poured over him, Armin stared silently at his younger body.

Even though it was technically his own…

It still felt unfamiliar.

Youthful.

Healthy.

Full of life.

Then his gaze landed on his hairstyle in the mirror.

Silence.

“…What the hell is this?”

Bright brown dyed hair covered half his forehead in an aggressively trendy style popular during that time.

Armin suddenly wanted to die again.

“So this was my fashion sense back then…”

After showering, he searched through the closet and nearly suffered another emotional attack from his old clothes.

Eventually, he settled on simple black jeans and a plain white t-shirt before checking his wallet.

The amount of money inside was pitiful.

Barely enough for a week.

Being a struggling actor really had been miserable.

After eating a cheap meal near his apartment, Armin followed a familiar road from memory.

The small hair salon looked exactly the same as before.

The moment he entered, the female hairdresser looked up brightly.

“Oh! Armin! Long time no see! What brings you here today?”

Seeing the familiar face again after so many years made warmth spread faintly through his chest.

“Hello, P.”

“Hm? Why are you smiling so emotionally? Don’t tell me you fell in love.”

Armin laughed softly.

“I came for a haircut.”

The hairdresser blinked in surprise.

“You don’t like your current style anymore? It’s trendy right now.”

“I want to dye it back black,” Armin said calmly while pointing toward an old poster on the wall. “And cut it shorter. Something like that.”

“…Really? Won’t it look too boring?”

“I trust your skills.”

Then he smiled.

A genuinely dazzling smile.

The hairdresser froze dramatically before clutching her chest.

“Oh my god. Armin, don’t smile like that suddenly! You nearly killed me!”

Armin laughed helplessly.

Two hours later—

The hairdresser stared proudly at her finished masterpiece.

Black hair now framed Armin’s sharp features perfectly, making him look elegant, clean, and unexpectedly mature.

Even Armin himself paused slightly after seeing the reflection.

This felt more like him.

“You’re ridiculously handsome,” the hairdresser declared seriously. “You were handsome before too, but now you look like a completely different person.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Did heartbreak suddenly make you evolve?”

Armin nearly choked laughing.

“Maybe.”

“No, seriously. You look like someone who’s about to become super famous.”

The former Best Actor smiled quietly at those words.

“Then please continue supporting me in the future.”

—

The next morning.

The filming set of Throne of Power buzzed with activity.

The moment Armin arrived, countless people turned to stare.

“…Who’s that?”

“Wait—that’s Armin?”

“He changed his hair?”

“Why does he suddenly look so handsome?”

Ignoring the whispers around him, Armin calmly walked toward the makeup room.

Even the hairstylist looked shocked.

“Armin! Your new look is much better!”

Armin smiled lightly.

“This is my final scene. Even if I die, at least let me die handsomely.”

The makeup artists burst into laughter immediately.

Usually, Armin was quiet and distant.

Seeing him joke so naturally surprised everyone.

“Don’t worry,” one of the older makeup artists said proudly. “We’ll definitely make you the most handsome corpse here.”

“Thank you.”

Soon, the assistant director approached.

“Armin, ready?”

“Yes.”

The assistant director sighed tiredly.

“This scene will be difficult to reshoot, so let’s try to finish within five takes.”

Five takes.

That had basically become Armin’s average because of his terrible acting.

“Understood,” Armin replied calmly.

Nearby, , the male lead of the series, walked over and patted his shoulder casually.

“Don’t waste everyone’s time today, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Tiwa paused briefly.

Something about Armin felt strangely different today.

More confident.

More composed.

More… dangerous.

But before he could think further, filming preparations began.

Armin closed his eyes briefly while reviewing the scene in his mind.

This was no longer the beginning of his downfall.

This…

Was the beginning of his return.

When he opened his eyes again, determination burned fiercely within them.

Chapter 3 — A Different Armin

This scene marked the final episode of the season.

The Crown Prince, protagonist of The Throne, was in the middle of negotiating a peace treaty with the rulers of a neighboring kingdom after years of war. Everything appeared peaceful.

Too peaceful.

During the banquet, both sides raised their goblets in celebration, smiling as if the bloodshed between the two nations had finally come to an end.

But hidden beneath the calm atmosphere…

An assassin waited.

After rehearsal ended, the actors returned to their positions while the staff finalized the lighting and camera angles.

The entire filming set grew quiet.

“The Throne, Scene Eighty-One!”

The assistant director raised the clapperboard.

“Three… two… one…”

“Action!”

At the center of the hall, the Crown Prince sat proudly at the head of the table. His sharp eyes swept across the gathered nobles and ambassadors before a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

“To peace,” he declared, lifting his goblet. “And to the alliance between our two nations.”

The guests immediately raised their cups together.

“Drink!”

Laughter and celebration echoed throughout the grand hall.

Beside the Crown Prince sat the Fifth Prince.

Quiet.

Observant.

His gaze swept carefully across the room.

Then—

His pupils suddenly contracted.

A flash of cold silver reflected beneath the sleeve of one of the ambassadors.

A weapon.

“Your Highness, watch out!”

The Fifth Prince shouted at the top of his lungs before throwing himself forward.

Crash!

A goblet shattered against the floor.

The Crown Prince’s eyes widened in shock as the younger prince blocked him completely.

Then—

Thud.

An arrow pierced straight through the Fifth Prince’s back.

For one terrifying moment, the entire hall fell silent.

“There’s an assassin!”

The guards immediately drew their swords.

Chaos erupted.

Some soldiers chased after the fleeing assassin while others surrounded the foreign ambassadors cautiously.

Blood slowly spread across the Fifth Prince’s robes.

His body trembled violently before he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

The Crown Prince hurriedly caught him before he could collapse onto the floor.

“Fifth Prince!”

Shock filled the Crown Prince’s face as he stared at the blood staining his younger brother’s lips.

The Fifth Prince weakly grabbed onto his robes, struggling desperately to breathe.

Yet despite the pain…

He still smiled.

“Y-Your Highness…” he whispered hoarsely. “Are you alright…?”

“I’m fine! Someone call the royal physician immediately!” the Crown Prince shouted frantically.

But suddenly—

A weak hand gripped his arm tightly.

The Crown Prince looked down again.

The Fifth Prince’s bright eyes had already begun filling with tears.

“Take care… of yourself…”

Tears slowly rolled down his pale face.

“Promise me…” he whispered painfully, “you’ll become king… of this country…”

The Crown Prince clenched his hand tightly.

“…I promise.”

The Fifth Prince slowly lifted his trembling hand toward him.

“Promise me.”

“…Yes,” the Crown Prince replied immediately, his voice breaking. “I promise.”

Only then did the younger prince smile again.

A small smile.

Gentle.

Satisfied.

“Good…”

The light in his eyes slowly began fading.

His breathing weakened little by little.

Then, almost inaudibly, he murmured,

“Why are they… so slow… not even a little…”

His voice disappeared completely.

The hand gripping the Crown Prince’s sleeve fell lifelessly.

His eyes remained open.

Still.

Silent.

Dead.

…

Complete silence filled the studio.

Everyone stared blankly at the scene before them.

Even the staff behind the cameras had forgotten to move.

Meanwhile, lying there in Tiwa’s arms, mentally cursed.

(Can someone please say “cut” already? My back is cramping to death here!)

But nobody spoke.

The emotional atmosphere was so overwhelming that even the lead actor forgot his next line entirely.

Finally—

“I think we should cut before that actor actually dies for real,” someone joked weakly from the corner of the studio.

The director snapped out of his trance immediately.

“C-Cut!”

The moment the word was spoken, Armin instantly sat upright with relief.

“Ow—”

Tiwa nearly fell backward from the sudden movement.

The director, however, ignored him completely.

Instead, he rushed straight toward Armin with shining eyes.

“Armin!”

The older man grabbed both of his shoulders emotionally.

“You absolutely cannot reject my next project!”

Armin blinked in surprise.

“…Sir?”

The director looked like someone who had accidentally discovered buried treasure.

He didn’t care where this kid suddenly learned to act.

He didn’t care why the performance changed overnight.

What mattered was the fact that the scene they had just filmed was incredible.

Otherwise—

How could even the male lead forget his lines halfway through?

“Sir… was that scene usable?” Armin asked cautiously.

“Usable?” the director nearly exploded. “That was perfect!”

“…But Tiwa forgot his line.”

“We’ll edit it!” the director waved dismissively. “No problem at all!”

Honestly, he doubted they could recreate such raw emotion if they tried again.

Only then did he reluctantly release Armin and turn toward the frozen male lead nearby.

“Tiwa! We’re filming your close-up next. And this time, remember your lines!”

“…Yes, Director.”

But even while answering, Tiwa’s eyes remained fixed on Armin’s retreating figure.

Something about him felt completely different today.

On the other side of the set, several makeup artists surrounded Armin excitedly while removing his wig and makeup.

“That death scene was beautiful.”

“You made me cry!”

“I suddenly feel proud even though I only did your eyeliner.”

Armin laughed helplessly.

“Thank you for your hard work.”

After saying goodbye to the staff politely, he headed toward his old car.

But before he could open the door—

“Wait, Armin!”

He turned around.

Tiwa jogged toward him with a complicated expression.

“What is it?”

Tiwa hesitated for several seconds before blurting out,

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You used to act terribly,” Tiwa said honestly before immediately regretting it. “I mean—not terrible terrible, but…”

Armin raised an eyebrow.

“…Continue.”

Tiwa coughed awkwardly.

“You disappear for two days because of a fever and suddenly come back acting like that? I was genuinely shocked.”

Armin chuckled softly.

“I just stayed home and practiced.”

“…That much improvement from practice alone?”

Armin only smiled mysteriously.

“If there’s nothing else, I should go.”

“…Ah. Right.”

Tiwa scratched his neck awkwardly before suddenly adding,

“Your new hairstyle looks good.”

“Thank you.”

Armin opened the car door before glancing back briefly.

“Let’s meet again someday.”

Tiwa stood there watching silently as the old battered car slowly drove away from the studio.

He had a strange feeling…

That today was the last time he would ever look down on Armin again.

—

Inside another luxury car parked nearby, a blond young man leaned lazily against the seat while glancing toward the cold man sitting beside him.

“Who was that actor?”

The sharp-eyed man beside him didn’t even look away from the window.

“None of your business.”

The blond man sighed dramatically.

“You’ve been staring at him this whole time.”

Still no response.

The driver quietly started the car.

The blond man——leaned forward curiously.

“If you like him that much, why not just offer him a contract?”

Silence.

“Mr. Thada?”

Only then did the cold man finally speak.

“Don’t forget our agreement, Rin.”

Narin immediately stiffened.

“…I understand.”

The atmosphere inside the car instantly turned heavy.

“You don’t love me,” the older man said calmly. “You simply want to keep me for yourself.”

Narin swallowed nervously.

“You give me fame,” he replied quietly. “I give you my body. That’s all.”

The older man finally glanced toward him.

Dark eyes.

Cold and unreadable.

“Good,” he said softly. “That’s why you lasted longer than the others.”

Narin lowered his gaze silently afterward.

Meanwhile, the man beside him rested his head against the seat again.

But his thoughts remained fixed on only one person.

Armin.

Especially the image of him lying motionless beneath artificial rain and blood earlier.

For some reason…

His chest still ached strangely.

—

Meanwhile, Armin drove toward his next schedule.

A low-budget fashion magazine photoshoot.

While driving, he checked the reminder notification on his phone and sighed tiredly.

His manager truly was unreliable.

Sometimes she forgot to inform him about schedules completely, resulting in him getting blamed for being “unprofessional.”

Because of that, Armin had long since learned to record every schedule himself.

“Janine…” he muttered helplessly, thinking about the competent manager from his future life. “I miss you so much.”

Unfortunately, reality was cruel.

The moment he arrived at the studio, chaos greeted him immediately.

“Armin?!”

A chubby female manager looked horrified after seeing him enter.

“What are you doing here?!”

Armin paused slowly.

Beside her stood a young actor with brown hair wearing expensive styled clothing.

The smug smile on his face made Armin instantly understand everything.

“Oh,” he said softly.

The photographer nearby frowned in confusion.

“What’s going on?”

The manager hurriedly laughed awkwardly.

“Armin was sick, so I recommended Achi instead.”

“But I specifically requested Armin,” the photographer replied immediately.

“Well, the contract already changed—”

“It’s alright.”

Everyone turned toward Armin.

The actor smiled calmly.

“I understand now. Since I was sick, Manager Lily decided to give my schedule to another artist.”

His tone remained polite.

Too polite.

“But it would’ve been nice if someone informed me beforehand,” he continued softly. “That way I wouldn’t have come here while still recovering.”

The surrounding staff immediately exchanged glances.

Ah.

So that’s what happened.

The manager’s face turned ugly instantly.

“Armin, let’s discuss this outside.”

But Armin calmly stepped back.

“I even wrote this schedule down myself because I was worried someone might forget again,” he said lightly.

The subtle emphasis on again made the atmosphere even more awkward.

Then he bowed politely toward the staff.

“I’m sorry for disturbing everyone.”

Without another word, he turned and left.

Whispers immediately erupted behind him.

Armin ignored all of it while walking calmly back toward his car.

Unlike before, he no longer felt angry enough to explode publicly.

Because now he understood something clearly.

The first thing he needed to deal with in this new life…

Was his agency.

THADA