Reincarnated as a Housekeeper in a 19+ Gangster Romance Novel - Chapter 2

As I opened the door and stepped out, a palace-like scene unfolded before me. I'd always thought my own home was pretty nice, but this place was on another level entirely. An obviously expensive chandelier hung from the ceiling, the floor was marble, and even the furniture looked luxurious, each piece clearly crafted with painstaking care by a master artisan.

Should I replace everything in my room with stuff like this?

I was half-joking, half-serious as I looked around when I sensed someone approaching from behind.

"Hey! I wasn't finished talking...!"

In an instant, a rough hand grabbed my shoulder. I swiftly seized the hand, twisted it, and executed a perfect over-the-shoulder throw.

"Gah!"

The man landed squarely on his back, writhing on the hard marble floor as if in agony. I stared blankly at him for a beat before belatedly apologizing.

"My mistake..."

I felt bad for the man I'd never met before, but having a job where my life was constantly on the line had made me hypersensitive to anyone grabbing me from behind.

...But my strength is the same?

I clenched and unclenched my fist. I'd assumed that shrinking in size would mean my strength had diminished too, but it seemed to be even greater than before. I'd flipped a man much larger than myself without breaking a sweat. Was it because I'd grown younger? Being back in my vibrant twenties, I felt a renewed vitality coursing through my body, a stark contrast to the sluggishness of my older years. At this rate, I might even be able to pull off a 10-to-1 fight, something I could only have dreamed of in my youth.

"You little bastard! Aaaah!"

"...The kid's got plenty of energy."

"Who are you calling a kid?! Let go of me! Aaaah!"

I stared at the young man before me. Full of youthful vigor, he refused to give up even after I threw him to the ground, clenching his fists and charging at me again. This time, I twisted his arm behind his back, and he started screaming in pain. Serves him right. He looks so sturdy, yet he's such a crybaby.

"What strength! Aaaah! It's breaking! It's going to break!"

I tilted my head at his words.

"...It shouldn't break at this level. Want me to really break it?"

I know from experience how much force it takes.

"No, no... no! Aaaah!"

Ugh, my ears are ringing.

With such spirited kids, you have to crush their spirit early on. But...

That was my motto when I was younger. Now, I didn't feel the need to go that far. I slowly released the pressure on his arm, which I had been holding as if about to snap it. Maybe I'm getting soft in my old age.

"Y-you..."

As soon as I released his hand, the man scrambled backward, glaring at me with fiery eyes. Fortunately, he seemed to have learned his lesson and didn't rush at me again.

Well, he's got spirit, I'll give him that.

I brushed past the huffing man and kept walking.

Ah, right.

I almost forgot to ask.

"Hey."

I stopped and turned to look at him. The man flinched and retreated quickly, widening the distance between us as he eyed me warily.

"...W-what?"

"...Where's the kitchen? Didn't you say you were hungry?"

"F-follow me."

The man's face seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words, but he clearly wanted nothing more to do with me. He turned and started walking ahead, though his willingness to lead the way suggested he really was hungry. I followed him.

"Whoa, this place is amazing!"

As the man led me into the kitchen, I stared around in a daze. The kitchen had everything imaginable—the facilities were truly top-notch.

First, I approached the refrigerator and opened the door. Inside, fresh vegetables and fruits were neatly arranged alongside cuts of high-quality meat. And this wasn't just one refrigerator; there were three more just like it.

I'm hungry.

Seeing all the fresh ingredients made my stomach growl. Was there any rice? I checked the rice cooker and thankfully found it full of perfectly cooked, slightly firm rice. With rice available, things would be easier. Maybe I'd make a simple pork stir-fry? Nothing beats a fresh meat dish for breakfast. I skillfully took out the meat and began cooking.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Hey!"

I tried to ignore him, but the man's voice was far too loud.

"...Are you calling me?"

"Yeah... I'm calling you! Housemaid!"

"Housemaid?"

Did he just call me a housemaid?

I was startled by this fresh label. Me, a housemaid? Well, I'd already vaguely sensed something was off. The things happening around me weren't normal. If I thought about it harshly, I probably died back then. I should have moved on, but somehow I ended up stuck in this unfamiliar young body. That's why I don't know this man, but he knows me well—a bizarre situation indeed.

But a housemaid...?

The word "housemaid" immediately brought to mind the novel he had been reading right before collapsing. Wasn't the protagonist of that story also a housemaid? And wasn't there definitely a third brother among the homeowner siblings who had a particularly nasty temper?

Even as I pondered this, I didn't stop cooking. Gradually, a savory pork stir-fry was taking shape under my hands. The tantalizing aroma silenced the man who had been harassing me.

Even though it was made by me, the presentation is perfect.

I placed the pork stir-fry over a bowl of white rice and set it in front of the man, then sat down across from him with my own bowl. His expression twisted into a fierce scowl again.

"Ha, you've really lost your mind. What makes you think you can just sit down..."

"What's your name?"

The man paused, as if considering his answer. After a moment, he spoke.

"Hey, hey, housekeeper. Shouldn't you get to a hospital?"

He clearly thought I was genuinely insane after hearing my question. His eyes held the exact look one gives a madman.

I simply shrugged. I was curious too. Was I sane, or was he right—that I was truly mad? I needed to know. I stared intently at him, urging him to answer quickly. After a moment of hesitation, he sighed deeply and reluctantly replied.

"...Jeong Hwangyu."

Jeong Hwangyu. The name sounded familiar.

"Twenty years old, third son of a gangster family?"

"...What the hell? You remember everything! You little bastard! You scared me! Are you messing with me?!"

Jeong Hwangyu slammed his fist on the table and stood up, convinced I was mocking him. I stared blankly at him.

This... it seems like...

I've somehow ended up inside that book?

Park Gyumin.

No wonder the name felt so familiar.

As I stared at Jeong Hwangyu, who was vividly alive and thrashing before me, I realized he was one of the male lead candidates from the novel I had read. This meant I could roughly figure out where I was and who I was.

I was the housekeeper in this gangster family before the female lead arrived. After her arrival, I became infatuated with the cunning female lead, only to be used and ultimately stabbed to death in her place—a tragic character.

Damn it.

Nausea surged involuntarily.

That bastard Park Hanseo... He promised to let me experience romance... Is this what he meant by romance?!

I tried not to blame the youngest brother, but I couldn't help it. Overnight, I had gone from being a gangster boss to a tragic housekeeper. I could only click my tongue inwardly at this goddamn reality.

What's wrong? Why aren't you reacting at all?

Jeong Hwangyu cursed and raged, but he kept glancing at Park Gyumin out of the corner of his eye.

Park Gyumin, however, remained completely oblivious, lost in silent thought. Jeong Hwangyu was dumbfounded.

Is he really out of his mind?

The punk had been acting strange since morning.

Park Gyumin, who had started working as the family's housekeeper two months ago, was introverted and timid. He was so easily frightened that he would tremble at the slightest word. But the Park Gyumin Jeong Hwangyu saw today was beyond strange.

Normally, he would have finished preparing dinner without being asked by the time Jeong Hwangyu returned from his workout. But as time passed and he remained holed up in his room, Jeong Hwangyu went to check on him, only to be met with sudden, casual disrespect and an attempt to assert dominance. What's more, his strength was overwhelming; Jeong Hwangyu couldn't possibly match it. The fact that Park Gyumin could subdue him—a man honed by rigorous training—with a single hand left Jeong Hwangyu inwardly stunned.

To think such power was hidden in that chestnut-sized body...

Even as he raged, Jeong Hwangyu couldn't help but unconsciously glance at Park Gyumin, gauging his reaction.

But what's this? He's not even paying attention to me?

Jeong Hwangyu stopped mid-curse and glared murderously at Park Gyumin. But unlike usual, Park Gyumin wore a blank, unfathomable expression, muttering to himself before picking up his spoon and starting to eat. Jeong Hwangyu clicked his tongue at the absurd sight.

Should I really take him to a hospital or something?

Eating together?

That was already ridiculous, but to dare start eating first without knowing his place?

This was beyond intolerable. Jeong Hwangyu gritted his teeth, his anger boiling over as he prepared to flip the table.

What's that smell?

The intense aroma of stir-fried pork, assaulting his nostrils, forced Jeong Hwangyu to freeze. His gaze naturally drifted to the food Park Gyumin had prepared. Until now, Park Gyumin's cooking had been unremarkable—just barely edible. But what was this scent?

The aroma wafting from the spicy pork stir-fry was anything but ordinary. Even Jeong Hwangyu, who had grown up with a refined palate from eating only the finest foods, found himself salivating at the tantalizing scent.

Damn, he's really digging into that.

Jeong Hwangyu unconsciously swallowed hard as he watched Park Gyumin vigorously mix the stir-fry into his white rice.

Realizing that overturning the dish would only hurt himself in the end, Jeong Hwangyu hesitated before reluctantly sliding back into his seat. Since Park Gyumin seemed oblivious to his presence anyway, he decided to at least try a bite before deciding whether to flip it over. But when Jeong Hwangyu took a large mouthful of the stir-fry, he couldn't help but gasp in astonishment.

T-this flavor...

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