Jungkook had tried everything to escape the damned webtoon.

At first, it had seemed manageable-survive long enough to figure out a way back to his world. But as the days turned into weeks, and the Emperor, Kim Taehyung, showed no signs of nullifying their engagement, his desperation grew. Jungkook was nothing if not resourceful, but when faced with the possibility of a blade severing his head from his neck at the hands of his future husband, resourcefulness gave way to desperation.

The first attempt was simple: poison. Rat poison, to be exact. It wasn't the most glamorous option, but it was quick, efficient, and accessible. Jungkook hadn't hesitated, gulping down the bitter liquid in the kitchen with the grim determination of someone whose fate was already sealed. He had even felt his body seize and his consciousness slip away with some satisfaction, thinking, Finally, it's over.

It wasn't.

He woke up two days later, skin glowing, cheeks rosy, and hair shinier than it had ever been. The maids had practically wept with delight, crowing about how his "beauty sleep" had made him even more radiant. Jungkook wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

His next plan was more straightforward. He climbed to the top floor of the grand manor, stepped onto the edge of the balcony, and leapt. The wind whipped past him, the ground rushing closer, and for a moment, he thought, This will work. And then the gardener-a spry man with arms like tree trunks-caught him mid-air, hoisting him up like a sack of potatoes.

"Young master, please don't run off again! You'll give the staff a fright!" the gardener had laughed, as if Jungkook had merely tripped. The staff treated the incident like some comedic mishap, and Jungkook had been forced to endure a mortifying lecture on "safety" from the head maid.

Fine. If falling didn't work, suffocation might. He locked himself in his chambers one night, grabbed a pillow, and pressed it down against his face with all his strength. But the pillows here were too soft. No matter how much pressure he applied, it was like trying to strangle himself with a cloud. He gave up when he started sobbing into the infuriatingly luxurious feather stuffing.

After that, Jungkook resigned himself to his fate. There were... certain rules to this world, he realized. Rules that wouldn't let him die prematurely, as though the webtoon itself was safeguarding its narrative. It's not your time yet, it seemed to whisper. You have a role to play.

That thought worried him more than anything else. What if "death" in this world didn't mean waking up in his own? What if it meant real death-permanent and absolute? No reincarnation, no do-overs, no escape back to his reality.

He lay in his bed that night, staring at the intricate patterns on the ceiling, feeling more trapped than ever. His life-his real life-felt like a distant memory. The faces of his friends, his family, were slipping away, replaced by the gilded cage of this world. And then there was the Emperor, Taehyung, who seemed to loom over everything in this story.

Jungkook's stomach churned at the thought of his impending fate. The Emperor was no tyrant like in the webtoon-at least, not at first glance. In fact, the man had been oddly kind to him so far, offering him indulgent smiles and measured words. But Jungkook knew better. The webtoon's ending was crystal clear: no matter how gentle Taehyung seemed now, he would be the one to end Jungkook's life.

And if this world wouldn't let him escape early, that only meant one thing: it wanted him to reach the end. It wanted him to die at Taehyung's hands.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Jungkook sat up in bed, clutching his knees to his chest.

He had to find a way out-before the story, and the Emperor, caught up with him.

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Jimin flipped through the pages of his book, one leg crossed casually as he sat at the edge of the bed. His gaze shifted to Jungkook, who was sprawled face-down on the mattress, arms and legs stretched out like a starfish.

"What's on your mind?" Jimin asked, his voice light but curious.

Jungkook let out a muffled groan into the mattress.

Jimin leaned over and tapped him gently on the back. "Sit up. You've completely abandoned your manners."

Jungkook turned his head slightly. "It's just you here," he replied, voice muffled but laced with indifference.

"That's no excuse. Manners are a standard, not a performance," Jimin said.

Jungkook shifted, a sly look flickering across his face. "Maybe if I start acting like a commoner, the emperor won't want to marry me."

Jimin rolled his eyes. "As if that would work."

Jungkook suddenly sat upright, his expression sharp with an idea. If he could somehow lose his noble status, the engagement might be annulled. The thought felt reckless and brilliant all at once.

"Jimin," Jungkook said, his tone unusually serious, "how would someone go about losing their noble status?"

Jimin raised a brow, caught off guard by the question. "Why?"

"Just curious," Jungkook replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Jimin gave him a skeptical look but answered anyway. "Well, you'd have to be excommunicated from your noble House. That's nearly impossible. No one's ever been fully excommunicated-it always gets stopped before it's finalized."

"And if someone managed it?" Jungkook pressed, his interest unmistakable.

"They'd lose everything-money, connections, the protection of their House. And the lower classes wouldn't welcome someone like us. They'd see you as an outsider, someone who doesn't belong anywhere."

Jungkook fell quiet, turning the idea over in his mind. It was risky, and the consequences would be severe. Still, it was the first idea that felt like a real chance. He just had to figure out how to make it work.

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Suddenly, Jungkook remembered something from the webtoon-a fleeting mention of the Information Guild, a shadowy organization renowned for knowing everything about everyone. It was a minor detail in the story, but if it existed, it could be the key to figuring out how to shed his noble status.

Without mentioning it to Jimin, Jungkook acted on his hunch. Late that night, under the cover of flickering candlelight, he summoned his handmaiden.

"Do you know the location of the Information Guild?" he whispered, keeping his voice low.

The maid hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. "I do, my lord, but..."

"Please," Jungkook interrupted. "Just tell me."

Reluctantly, she complied, scribbling the directions onto a scrap of parchment. Jungkook tucked it away and dismissed her with a quiet thanks.

The next morning, cloaked in black and blending into the early morning shadows, Jungkook set out. The directions led him to an old, decrepit building tucked into the farthest corner of the capital, where narrow alleyways twisted like veins through the city.

The structure loomed before him, its weathered exterior covered in moss and cracked stone. The air was heavy and damp, and Jungkook felt a shiver run down his spine. He swallowed hard and stepped through the creaking wooden door.

Inside, the dim light revealed a room that smelled faintly of ink and old wood. Shelves filled with scrolls and books lined the walls, and a faint hum of activity buzzed from somewhere unseen.

"Welcome," a voice said, smooth and eerily cheerful.

Jungkook turned sharply, his eyes landing on a man dressed in dark robes and wearing a mask shaped like a squirrel's face. The mask's hollow eyes seemed to stare directly at him, and for a moment, Jungkook froze.

"How can I be of help, Jungkook of House Jeon?"

Jungkook's breath caught. "How do you know me?"

The man tilted his head, the motion almost playful. "We're the best information guild for a reason," he said lightly.

Jungkook took a step back, his instincts flaring, but the man raised his hands in a gesture of peace.

"Fret not," he said, his tone warm and disarming. "I didn't mean to startle you. My name is Jung Hoseok, and I'll be your guide. Please, have a seat."

He gestured toward a worn wooden chair near the center of the room. Jungkook hesitated, his eyes flickering between the strange man and the door. But curiosity-and desperation-won out. Slowly, he stepped forward and sat down, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on his shoulders.

"Now," Hoseok said, lowering himself into a chair opposite Jungkook. "What brings the young master of House Jeon to a place like this?"

Jungkook hesitated, his fingers clutching the edge of his cloak. "I need to know how to... become a commoner," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hoseok leaned back, his mask catching the faint light. "Well, that's not a question we get every day," he said, his tone amused but curious. "Let's see what we can do."

Hoseok leaned back in his chair, the flickering light casting shadows on his squirrel mask. His voice was calm but laced with curiosity as he asked, "Why would you want to do something like this, Jungkook?"

Jungkook hesitated, his fingers tightening around the edge of his cloak. "I... I can't tell you."

A low chuckle escaped Hoseok, almost amused by the deflection. "You want to escape the marriage with Emperor Kim Taehyung."

Jungkook's eyes widened, his breath hitching. "How... how do you know that?"

Hoseok tilted his head, the mask adding an air of mystery to his expression. "We're the best information guild in the capital. It's our job to know."

"Please," Jungkook said quickly, his voice almost pleading. "Don't let anyone else find out."

Hoseok raised a hand in reassurance. "Relax. Everything that happens here is confidential. You have my word."

Jungkook exhaled shakily, his shoulders loosening slightly.

"But," Hoseok continued, his tone shifting to something more serious, "you should know that becoming a commoner isn't as simple as you might think. In fact, it's nearly impossible. While imperial law allows for nobles to be expelled from their houses, it's rarely, if ever, enacted. Doing so is seen as a disgrace not just to the family but to the empire as a whole. It's a stain on the noble status, and the imperial court doesn't tolerate such blemishes lightly."

Jungkook's heart sank. "Then... what other choice do I have?"

Hoseok leaned forward slightly, his tone softening. "Your father is the grand duke, Jungkook. That's the only reason you're even eligible for this engagement. The grand duchy is second only to the imperial family in the hierarchy of nobility."

"So what does that mean?" Jungkook asked, desperation creeping into his voice.

Hoseok paused, considering his words carefully. "If you were to somehow lower your status, say to that of a baron or lower, you would no longer meet the requirements for marriage to the emperor. By imperial law, such unions are forbidden due to class differences."

Jungkook stared at him, the weight of this revelation settling in his chest. It wasn't a solution-not yet-but it was the first glimmer of a path forward.

"And how would I... lower my status?" Jungkook asked hesitantly.

Hoseok leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "To change your status, you'll need to pay a fee of ten million gold coins to the Imperial Council of Nobility."

Jungkook's eyes widened, disbelief written all over his face. "Ten million? But I'm trying to lower my status! Why is it so expensive?"

Hoseok chuckled, the sound light but unapologetic. "Rules are rules, Jungkook. The empire's bureaucracy doesn't concern itself with logic-it only cares about its coffers."

Jungkook slumped back in his chair, raking a hand through his hair. "I don't have that kind of money."

"You're from a grand duchy," Hoseok pointed out, as if that solved everything.

"My father would never fund something like this," Jungkook muttered bitterly. "Not unless he thought it would benefit him."

Hoseok tilted his head, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table. "Hmm... that does make things tricky. Without his support, there aren't many options. Imperial restrictions don't exactly leave room for flexibility."

Jungkook looked down, his shoulders heavy with defeat.

Hoseok sighed dramatically, his tone softening. "Oh, don't look so sad. You're going to break my heart. You look like a little bunny when you're upset-completely unfair."

Jungkook shot him a glare, though the effect was dampened by the glimmer of despair in his eyes.

"Seriously though," Hoseok continued, his voice brightening. "Don't you have any source of income outside your father? A secret inheritance? A buried treasure? Anything?"

Jungkook shook his head, his tone flat. "Nothing."

"Well then," Hoseok said, leaning forward with a mischievous grin, "you'll just have to start a business!"

"A business?" Jungkook echoed, the sheer absurdity of the suggestion leaving him momentarily stunned.

"Exactly," Hoseok replied, his enthusiasm unwavering. "Earn the money yourself. Not only will it give you the independence you need, but it might also teach you a thing or two about the world beyond these gilded walls. And who knows? You might even discover you're good at it."

Jungkook hesitated, the weight of the idea settling over him. It was daunting, completely unlike anything he'd ever done before. Maybe this was the answer he'd been searching for.