Taking quick strides, Jaejoong looked at the watch, resting onto his wrist. He panicked as the realization of being late kicked in and began running through the main door, turning left in order to reach his office. Arriving to the spot, he sighed, expressing disappointment in himself:

“Ahh, really? Why do I still bother?”

“Yes, Mr. Kim?” a confused look appeared onto secretary's face as she stood up.

“Good morning,” Jaejoong just waved off the previous remark of his.

“Good morning, sir.” the lady bowed slightly and sat back to her work desk.

Jaejoong pushed the see-through glass door to his office and stepped in, letting the door slam freely. He glanced at piles of documents, scattered on his desk and sighed. He leaned down and pushed the button:

“Find me a full-time personal assistant. You have four hours.”

He collapsed onto big leather chair and sank into it. The gasp of his secretary on the other side of the door was loud enough for him to hear.

The man got lost in his troubling thoughts. He could not understand: why would he be so nervous about coming to work late or not even doing his job? Everything was extremely temporary anyways. Jaejoong got more and more bored of the Korean billionaire's lifestyle, filled with vain luxury and people. He decided to end his current life in four days.

Then the young man drifted into consideration of who should he become afterward. Maybe he should be an astronaut? One of few things he had not done yet was go to space as a human being. To shake the things up a little bit more, the thought of obtaining a female's form crossed his mind. Rachel Smith seemed like a good name for such persona.

Jaejoong realized how sick of immortality he was. But that was the problem and the tragedy in some way. Because he could not die, it did not stop. The existence of his was eternal, it had no beginning or an ending. The only thing constrained by time was Earth and yet only because of humans, more precisely, because of their evolution.

Sometimes, caught up in human emotions, he asked himself about his mission in life. He did not have one. Nor was he capable of understanding why would anyone ever need one. He was not on Earth to seek justice or revenge. Or worse – save someone. That would have been the worst thing that could have ever happened to him. Adapting and becoming human-like was not that disastrous, he thought. He could have stopped and distanced himself from everything any time he wanted to.

But he had been there far too long. Over the time spent among human beings he became similar to one himself. Obtaining a man's body, consuming human-like emotions. Maybe, just maybe, if he had played in an animal's form, it would have been different. And yet, humans are far more interesting. Even if their motives are always the same, they tend to create or get into different circumstances all the time.

The black-haired man comfortably sitting in an office chair was not a real human. It literally was God. The creator of all, the timeless figure with which humans try to explain their own existence. It was there, floating in the space, absorbing the energy. Until one time it got bored and created things – dusts, stars, planets, other lives.

It gave the start to every single thing. Then it itself became a human, going through time with others. One moment it could be the gorgeous woman on a throne in Egypt, the other – careless pirate in the Pacific Ocean. Now it was a rich and powerful Asian man in his middle twenties, known as Kim Jaejoong.

“Mr. Kim, your new personal assistant has arrived,” a knock on the door reached his ears.

“Let them in,” he replied nonchalantly, occupying himself with some papers.

It took four seconds for the person to enter the place and those four seconds were the last ones of Jaejoong's freedom.

He had not looked up from his hands to the human, but the presence of other caught his attention. All of Jaejoong's still remaining strong senses and every ounce of power rushed through his physical form and he felt agitated. When he finally looked up and his eyes met with the stranger's, he knew that he was staring into the depths of a threat.

Jaejoong studied the awkwardly standing man's physique. The stranger had common East Asian features – dark eyes and hair, not impressively tall height, and quite slim body. The clothes he was wearing obviously hid toned but muscular arms and trunk.

“Hello, my name is Jung Yunho and I'm happy to serve you as personal assistant,” the man bowed politely.

“You are too loud,” Jaejoong commented, throwing the papers onto desk and standing up from his chair.

The man, now known as Yunho, blinked and stood straight, too afraid to say more. His new employer took slow but long steps towards him. Yunho gulped, the saliva going down his throat painfully. The man's stern look and the whole aura in the room made him feel anxious and his body tensed as the raven-haired came closer. Jaejoong approached the other man so that his steady breathing could be felt on the latter's skin, that was starting to chill with terror. Director looked into the others' eyes, desperately trying to find the cause of threatening feel he got as soon as the male stepped into the room. However, his face looked calm and did not show off any concern. The penetrating gaze was too much for Yunho so he swallowed hard again, took a deep breath, and asked in a whisper:

“Mr. Kim?”

Jaejoong squinted at the man before him and stepped back. He turned his back to the other and grabbed his coat from the sofa.

“These papers on my desk must be sorted and read. The ones in need of my approval must be put in separate pile. You have four hours,” the