Chapter 4

“The adopter cannot tell anyone about the contract. This is very important. Once the contract is leaked, ‘Adopt-a-Guy’ will definitely take the guy being adopted back without giving the money back.”

I read the sentence for what felt like the hundredth time, my eyes burning from staring at the tiny words printed across the yellowed page. I had already reached Rule Number 57, and the more rules I read, the more ridiculous this entire thing became. I still couldn’t believe that the weird Master HEX had actually written this entire book himself. It was nothing more than a small, old-fashioned booklet, the kind that looked as though it had been sitting in a drawer for decades, yet somehow it contained an absurd number of rules—each one more detailed and unreasonable than the last. And apparently, every single one of them was legally binding according to this ridiculous “Adopt-a-Guy” contract.

I rubbed my temple, feeling a headache slowly forming behind my eyes. There was no loophole. No way out. And most importantly… there was absolutely no way I was getting my money back. I glared down at the booklet in my hands, silently blaming every single page for my financial downfall.

“Aren’t you going to feed me?” Toby’s whining voice suddenly pulled me out of my thoughts.

I slowly lifted my head. He was standing right in front of me, rubbing his stomach with both hands like a starving child. His lips were slightly pouted, and his eyes looked almost pitiful enough to make me feel guilty. Almost.

“Just find yourself something to eat,” I said coldly before lowering my gaze back to the booklet.

“There’s nothing in the kitchen.”

I ignored him.

“I checked everywhere.”

Still ignored him.

“I only found cold water in the refrigerator.”

I let out a long, tired sigh. Then—

Grrrroooowwwl…

A deep, rumbling sound echoed through the quiet room.

I slowly looked up.

Toby was staring down at his own stomach with a deeply offended expression, as though his stomach had personally betrayed him. I stared at him for a moment before looking up at the ceiling.

How could I spend 52 grand on this useless guy?

With another sigh, I reached for my phone and pressed a few buttons before putting it to my ear. I glared at Toby while waiting for someone to answer.

“Hello… I’d like to order one pepperoni pizza,” I said.

The moment Toby heard the word pizza, his entire expression changed. His gloomy face instantly brightened, and his eyes lit up. He pointed at himself with both hands and mouthed,

Two.

I stared at him in disbelief.

Two pans? For himself?

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Make it three, please. And I’d like extra cheese.”

Toby’s face instantly brightened even more.

“Yes… Thank you.” I hung up the phone.

I never cook. Actually, I can’t cook. I don’t even particularly like cooking. Every day, I either eat at a restaurant or order something. People often say that a woman should know how to cook because, someday, she’ll have to cook for her husband every day.

But honestly?

I completely disagree. I have a job, a demanding one. And even after I get married, I have no intention of giving up my career. This is what I’ve dreamed about since I was a child. I love fashion. I love my job. And I love the life I’ve built for myself. That means I probably won’t have enough time to cook every day, not for myself and certainly not for some future husband.

So, if I ever get married, I need to find a man who knows how to cook. Or, at the very least, someone who can accept me exactly as I am.

Twenty minutes later, the apartment was filled with the warm, greasy smell of freshly baked pepperoni pizza. I found myself sitting across from Toby at the dining table, with three open pizza boxes spread between us. Steam still rose faintly from the slices, and the melted cheese stretched whenever Toby pulled one from the box.

Well…

Mine was still mostly untouched.

His?

He was already halfway through his second box.

I stared at him in disbelief as he shoveled pizza into his mouth with impressive speed, barely pausing to chew. His cheeks puffed out as he ate, his eyes fixed completely on the food in front of him.

When was the last time this guy actually ate?

I rested my cheek against my palm and watched him for a moment.

“Do you like pizza?” I asked.

He nodded without even looking at me. His attention was completely focused on the pizza. Watching him eat like that somehow made my own appetite disappear.

I pushed my untouched pizza toward him.

Toby finally looked up.

His cheeks were puffed out, his mouth completely full, while a streak of sauce clung to the corner of his lips. He blinked at me, seemingly surprised by my gesture, before his expression softened into a delighted smile.

I stared at him.

Okay…

He was handsome. Very handsome, actually.

But somehow, when he was stuffing his face with pizza with sauce all over his mouth…

Not so handsome.

I silently made a decision.

I’m never buying him pizza again.

“For you,” I said simply.

His eyes immediately curved into a happy smile. He quickly finished his second box and moved on to the third.

I shook my head.

Unbelievable.

While Toby was busy devouring his third box of pizza, my curiosity finally got the better of me.

“Hey…”

He continued eating.

“How did you even end up at ‘Adopt-a-Guy’?”

Toby paused, his hand hovering over the pizza. He swallowed before shrugging casually.

“I don’t know. All I know is that Master HEX treated me well. He fed me delicious food and gave me a place to stay.” A warm, almost fond smile spread across his face. “He’s a nice guy.”

I stared at him.

For several seconds, I couldn’t say anything.

Isn’t it ironic that he thinks his ‘nice’ master is such a wonderful person when that same ‘nice’ master literally sold him to me?

“Do you know that your master sold you to me?” I asked.

Toby immediately shook his head.

“It’s adopted.” He rolled his eyes as if I were the one being ridiculous. “Master wouldn’t sell his brother to some stranger for money.”

“What’s the difference?”

I pointed at him.

“He gave you to me, and I gave him 52,000 grand.”

Toby calmly took a drink of water before answering.

“That money will be used to support his brothers’ lives.” He said it with such complete innocence that I almost laughed.

“And you actually believe that?” I shook my head. “I don’t know whether you’re innocent or just stupid.”

“I’m not stupid.”

His brows immediately knitted together. The playful look vanished from his face, replaced by genuine offense.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms.

“So, has anyone ‘adopted’ you before?”

I deliberately emphasized the word adopted.

“Nope.” He shook his head. “They said I’m too expensive.”

“Of course you are,” I muttered under my breath. “52,000 grand for a useless guy like you…”

I looked him up and down.

“Who would pay 52,000 grand to adopt a guy like you?”

“You did.”

His answer came instantly.

I froze.

I turned my head toward him. I gave him the darkest glare I could manage.

“I wasn't in my right mind when I made the deal with your ‘nice’ hyung. That doesn't count.”

Toby simply shrugged and reached for another slice.

I continued glaring at him.

Then, suddenly, an idea popped into my head.

An excellent idea.

My eyes widened, and the corners of my lips slowly curled upward.

Oh.

This might actually work.

“Hey…”

I leaned toward him, suddenly excited.

“You don't have a job, right?”

Toby shook his head.

“Good!” I clapped my hands together, feeling ridiculously proud of myself.

I’m a genius.

“W-Why?” he asked, suddenly looking nervous.

“I lost my money because of you.” I pointed at him. “So now, you have to work for me.”

Toby’s expression immediately changed.

“You're going to find a job, and every month, you'll give all your earnings to me.” I smiled sweetly. “Well, I suppose I can give you some pocket money.” I tapped my chin thoughtfully. “Fifty bucks should be enough, right? You don't have to pay rent for staying here, and—”

“No.”

He cut me off so casually that I blinked.

“W-Why?”

“According to Rule Number 87, the adopter cannot force the guy being adopted to work.”

He spoke with complete confidence, as though he had memorized the entire booklet.

I stared at him. “What?”

“Unless you want me to marry you.” He continued as though he were explaining something completely ordinary. “That’s a different case.”

He calmly picked up another piece of pizza.

“If we get married, then I have to find a job and earn money to support your life.” He paused, then added, “Oh, and the most important part…”

He looked directly at me, a strange little smile beginning to appear on his face.

“We have to have a husband-and-wife relationship first, if you understand what I mean.”

My mouth fell open.

“W-What?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

He simply nodded.

“Rule Number 87. Page 34.”

My eyes widened. I immediately grabbed the booklet and flipped through the pages, my fingers moving faster and faster until I finally found it. And there it was.

‘The adopter cannot force the guy being adopted to work, except when the adopter and the guy being adopted get married and have a husband-and-wife relationship. Only then will the guy being adopted officially have the obligation to find a job and support the adopter and their future baby’s life.’

I stared at the sentence.

Then stared at Toby.

“I can’t believe this…”

Toby leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself.

“So, if you want me to find a job, we have to have sex first.”

A mischievous smirk appeared on his face. “I’d be very happy to do that, actually.”

My eyes widened.

He was grinning now, that smug, shameless grin that made me want to throw something at his head.

“In your dreams, PERVERT!”

I grabbed the rule book and threw it at him. Toby caught it effortlessly before it could hit him. He glanced down at the booklet, then back at me with an amused smile.

“I’m just saying…”

I clenched my fists.

“Your ‘nice’ master is really smart.” I narrowed my eyes. “Really, really smart…”

“He is.”

Toby nodded calmly and took another bite of pizza.

I stared at him.

Does this guy seriously not realize he’s been scammed?

I let out a long, defeated sigh and rubbed my forehead.

“Anyway…”

I folded my arms.

“Since you’re going to live here from now on, we need to make some rules.”

Of course we needed rules. After all, this was my apartment.

“Rules?” Toby asked, tilting his head.

“Hmm…” I tapped my finger against my chin, thinking. “First, you’re responsible for all the housework.”

His expression immediately fell.

“Laundry, cleaning…”

I paused.

“And cooking.”

“W-What?”

He protested immediately, his eyes widening in disbelief.

I ignored him.

“I have to work from eight in the morning until six or seven in the evening. So you have to make sure everything in this apartment stays clean and organized.”

I pointed toward my bedroom.

“Especially my room.”

Toby followed my finger with his eyes, his expression slowly becoming more cautious.

“Oh, and be careful with my dresses, shoes, bags, and all of my accessories.”

I narrowed my eyes.

Then an unpleasant thought crossed my mind, the image of Toby rummaging through my expensive dresses, touching my shoes, opening my bags…

And, oh my God

My underwear.

I immediately shuddered.

“No.” I shook my head firmly. “Actually, just stay out of my walk-in closet.”

Toby frowned.

“But—”

“No.”

I raised a hand before he could argue.

“Next, I don’t like sharing a bathroom.” I pointed toward the bathroom beside my bedroom. “You can’t use that one.”

Then I pointed toward the bathroom at the back of the apartment. “You can use that one.”

I crossed my arms. I was a woman, after all. There was no way I was going to share a bathroom with this man. I didn’t even want to imagine what I might find in there.

“Next…”

I glanced around the apartment before continuing.

“I don’t have an extra bedroom.”

Toby’s eyes brightened slightly.

“Well, technically, I do have one.” I pointed toward the hallway. “But I’ve already turned it into my walk-in closet and storage room.”

I smiled sweetly. “So, you’ll have to sleep in the living room.”

His expression immediately dropped.

“I guess you’ll be fine with it since you already seemed to enjoy sleeping on the couch this morning.” I smiled.

“W-What?” His eyes widened. “No. No, no, no. You can’t do that.”

“And why can’t I?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Is there any rule saying the adopter can’t make the guy being adopted sleep on the couch?” I gave him a smug smile.

Toby suddenly grinned.

“Actually…”

He leaned back in his chair, looking far too confident. “There is.”

My smile disappeared.

“What?”

“Rule Number 23.” His grin grew wider. “The adopter has to take good care of the guy being adopted. If the adopter doesn’t properly take care of him, the shop can take the guy being adopted back without returning the money.”

My eye twitched.

I immediately snatched the booklet from the table and flipped through the pages. Page after page blurred beneath my fingers until—

There it was.

Rule Number 23.

Exactly as Toby had said.

I slowly lowered the booklet and looked at him. Toby was grinning like an idiot. I shot him a death glare.

He only grinned wider.

“I suggest you provide me with a nice room.” He casually continued eating as though he hadn’t just ruined my entire plan. “I don’t mind sleeping in the storage room.” He shrugged. “But you have to give me a bed.”

He paused.

“And it would be great if there were a wardrobe for me, too.”

“I don’t have an extra bed,” I hissed.

“Then you have to buy one.” He gave me a playful smirk.

“Because I bet you can’t adopt a bed,” he joked.

I stared at him, my fingers slowly curling into fists beneath the table.

For one brief moment, I seriously considered smacking him on the head—just hard enough to knock him unconscious and wipe that irritating smirk off his face.

Unfortunately, Rule Number 23 probably wouldn’t allow that either.

Damn you, Master HEX.

Damn you and your stupid rules.