Chapter 3

Aside from the physical changes, my husband’s personality had shifted noticeably.

He used to be incredibly conservative—same positions, same locations, never deviating.

But after the transplant surgery, he suddenly became wild.

Not only did he try all sorts of new moves in bed, but he also started experimenting with strange places around the house.

The kitchen, the dining table, the couch, the balcony…

The weirder the spot, the more energetic and creative he became.

He even filmed the process on his phone, saying he wanted to upload it online for others to enjoy.

Exhausted and helpless, I couldn’t stop him.

All I could do was beg him hoarsely not to share the videos recklessly.

With a smug grin, he saved the footage and reassured me.

"Don’t worry, I won’t post it. I’ll delete it after watching."

Foolishly, I believed him.

Then, a few days later, a stranger showed up at our door.

That was when I found out he had already uploaded every single video.

The man stood at the entrance, his face unnaturally pale, his muscular arm braced against the doorframe.

"Hello," he said. "I’m here to find someone."

I blocked the door, refusing to let him in, and called for my husband.

"Who are you looking for? I don’t even know you!"

The man didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, and held up a video for me to see.

In an instant, all the blood in my body rushed to my head.

It was one of those private recordings—the ones my husband and I had made at home.

I snatched the phone from his hand, my voice shaking with rage.

"Where did you get this? This is my privacy! Privacy, understand?"

The man didn’t react to my outburst. His eyes kept scanning the space behind me.

"Let me in," he said. "I’m looking for my brother. He’s here."

Just then, my husband appeared.

He pulled me behind him and spoke coldly.

"No one here matches who you’re looking for. Leave now, or I’ll call the police."

The man studied my husband, his gaze sliding from his face down to his abdomen. Then he said something that made my skin crawl.

"My brother is dead. His body is in your house."

My breath caught. I clutched my husband’s sleeve.

Even my husband was shaken, his voice faltering slightly.

"You’re insane. Get out before I report you."

The man kept staring. Suddenly, he lifted a hand and pointed straight at my husband’s newly transplanted lower body.

"See?" he said. "His corpse is right there."