My Dead Brother Possessed a Dog to Steal My Life

After my little brother, Cochran Ceberano, dies in a car crash, my parents hand the toy poodle he raised over to me. But I haul the dog to an unlicensed, back-alley animal clinic right away and have him neutered. Why? Because I've been reborn. In my previous life, on the day the dog arrives at our house, he suddenly turns vicious, scratching and biting me at every turn. Afraid of upsetting my parents, I bend over backward to win him over. I feed him the best dog food, and I even sleep next to him on the couch. But he only gets worse. Day by day, my sanity crumbles. Insomnia sets in, followed by auditory hallucinations. I even start dreaming that he's chasing me down and tearing me apart every night. Unable to endure it any longer, I hesitantly suggest rehoming the dog. Dad flies into a rage at this, slapping me hard across the face. "Rehome it? He's the only piece of your brother left in this world, and you can't even tolerate him? How can you be so cruel and heartless?" Mom doesn't say anything. She just clutches the dog close to her as she sobs. Driven to the brink by the relentless torment, I finally snap and jump out of a 30-story window. After I die, I drift into the sky in my ghost form, only to discover something that leaves me stunned. Cochran, who supposedly died in the car crash, is awake and alive. My parents throw their arms around him, weeping tears of joy. "The shaman was right! As long as your soul inhabits a dog and stays next to an immediate family member for seven full weeks, you can exchange lives with her!" Only then do I realize that the toy poodle was never just a dog. He was my own little brother.