It was late afternoon. The off-white curtains occasionally fluttered in the gentle breeze drifting through the window. The bookshelves covering the walls were packed with volumes spanning humanities, economics, philosophy, and various other genres that reflected the owner’s cultivated tastes. Inside the room, a man and woman sat facing each other, surrounded by towering bookcases like fortress walls. With only a desk between them, the arrangement resembled an interrogation room. The man, sitting with textbook-perfect posture, was reading aloud to the woman across from him. Though she looked young in her school uniform, the tension etched on her face rivaled that of any betting slip holder. A combative atmosphere hung between them.
“‘…The moment our eyes met, I couldn’t move a single step.'”
His voice was neither high nor low, soft yet steady. The tone was comfortable without dragging, the pronunciation fluent, and his solid vocal projection left nothing to be desired.
“‘Those dangerous eyes, that sharp jawline that could cut like a blade, skin white as fresh snow, lips red as blood ready to burst. From head to toe, his perfect appearance reminded me of the transparent dragon, that fantastical creature of legend.'”
His breathing maintained a steady rhythm, and the way he emphasized each syllable was both dramatic and composed. The absorbed listener gradually leaned forward.
“‘The guy who ruled at Hwangje High… The one they called Rank Zero blew a line of cigarette smoke into the air and lifted his head. Then he beckoned to me with his hand.'”
She watched the reader with an expression of thrilling excitement, as if watching a blockbuster film. The narrator, with utmost seriousness, explained how the protagonist was a cold-blooded bastard without blood or manners, yet harbored considerable potential to be warm to his woman. After reciting smoothly like thread spinning from a wheel, he finally stopped at one passage.
“Heh… Now I’m interested.”
His lips twitched briefly as he spoke the line. Clenching his fist with determination, he opened his mouth.
“You. Be mine.”
“Oh my god.”
The female student collapsed onto the desk with a squeal. Her solid fists pounded the surface repeatedly, causing books and writing implements to vibrate as if in an earthquake. She lay there with her back heaving, showing no signs of getting up anytime soon. Jaewon, who had been watching her with cold eyes, snapped the book shut.
“That’s enough for today.”
“What? That’s insane! How can you stop here!”
Violent protests erupted along with flying saliva. Jaewon perfectly blocked the barrage by holding up the book as a shield and added emotionlessly:
“We just started! We’ve only read a few pages!”
“Write a book report on The Vegetarian by next time.”
He began swiftly gathering his belongings. The student’s pupils trembled pitifully as she watched her teacher never forget his duty even in moments like these. The moment Jaewon put My Heart Says You’re the One into his bag, she desperately grabbed the corner of the book.
“Aren’t you curious about what happens next?”
“I haven’t been curious for 1,185 days.”
“Can’t you read just one more line?”
“No.”
After flatly refusing, Jaewon belatedly remembered his transit card balance and offered a compromise as if being generous.
“Five thousand won extra.”
“A moderate amount of curiosity is good for your health.”
I thought she’d give in today.
At this Udyr-level stance reversal[1], Jaewon clicked his tongue and snatched the book back. He then tied his sneakers extra tight. With this month having 31 days, he’d have to walk home for two more days.
“Dad said he has something to tell you and wants you to stop by the hospital.”
“I’m busy today. Your father needs to make more active use of modern communication methods.”
“He said he has something to give you.”
“I’ll drop by on the way, I guess.”
Jaewon left with a spring in his step. He smiled warmly at the female student who said goodbye with a face full of lingering attachment, then got on the elevator. The doors slid shut, and in the mirror he could see the book he hadn’t managed to put in his bag while arguing with the student. Jaewon’s eyes narrowed to a line.
An internet novel plastered with emoticons in every sentence. There were complex reasons why he read aloud from this practically extinct genre three times a week.
Bae Jaewon was a young man who had lost his parents early and grown up under difficult circumstances with his grandmother. Due to his poor family situation, there wasn’t a part-time job he hadn’t tried since childhood. He started the reading job in high school to earn volunteer points, but was then recruited by a certain lady who liked his voice, leading him to take it on in earnest. Jaewon, equipped with the triple threat of vocal projection, breathing, and pronunciation, achieved high parent satisfaction rates and gained popularity with children thanks to his pleasant voice and likeable appearance. The reason he ended up reciting ‘love stories between the rank zero delinquent and the ordinary-but-definitely-pretty-if-you-look-closely commoner’ every week was entirely due to his client’s tastes.
Jung Sujeong, the female student with this eccentric hobby, was a dyslexia patient. His cousin, a homeschooled student and internet novel enthusiast. Sujeong, who claimed to like classic novels, endlessly brought emoticon-filled books that had disappeared from the market like water from a bottomless well. Exactly one week after starting the job, Jaewon declared a strike. To him, complaining of hypothermia and limb paralysis, his uncle offered a pay raise, and his symptoms miraculously healed. After some system adjustments, they arrived at the current arrangement of alternating between educational books and books of her choice.
What’s so interesting about reading this stuff?
Jaewon looked distastefully at the book in his hand. This was his fourth year taking care of Sujeong. Though he’d devoured countless internet novels during that time, his doubts about his cousin’s reading tastes only grew. If not for his uncle’s request, he would have escaped this harsh working environment long ago.
To the orphaned Jaewon, his uncle was his only family. He had helped a lot until Jaewon could stand on his own feet, and Jaewon, knowing gratitude, planned to steadily repay him.
Checking his watch, it was approaching 5 PM. Well past the stock market closing time, it was time to go analyze investments. Though the market wasn’t open on weekends, Jaewon kept to his daily routine as much as possible. Particularly interested in financial investment, he was preparing for the Jaram Securities College Student Mock Investment Competition. As a result of his day-and-night dedication, things were going smoothly so far, but variables always existed. Last year’s winner had achieved an astounding 600% return. With hidden masters in the field, he couldn’t let his guard down.
Time was tight to get to the hospital where his uncle was admitted. With his schedule expanded, Jaewon hurried his steps.
His uncle, who claimed to pursue an “extreme lifestyle,” had traveled the world making money through all sorts of bizarre methods. This time, going to Australia for kangaroo hunting and coming back beaten up and hospitalized was actually mild. Most of his work carried high risk but offered excellent returns for the time invested. The year before last, he’d spent six months catching Opilio crabs in the Bering Sea and returned triumphant with $150,000. But in Jaewon’s eyes, he was just a man desperate to die.
“Oh… Jae-ni, you’re here.”
Entering the hospital room, a man shaped like a pufferfish waved. His uncle, who’d broken his jaw from a kangaroo uppercut, couldn’t even speak properly.
“Where’s aunt?”
Instead of answering, he mimed smoking. Jaewon put the soy milk he’d bought in the refrigerator and sat beside the bed.
“How are you feeling?”
“Mm. If they just let me out of the hoss-pital, I’d be fine.”
“Then all that’s left is for you to grow up.”
“Hey, the moment a man grows up, he’s dead.”
The words sounded a bit strange, but he ignored it. Well, being that immature was why he’d adopted a child his friend abandoned and took care of Jaewon when his younger sibling couple left him behind.
“How’s Sujeong?”
“Always doing well, healthy. Eating well and sleeping well. Especially when I read Gone with the Wind last time, she slept so well I wanted to disappear.”
“Hehehe.”
Though he honestly shared his hardship, his uncle just laughed heartily. Jaewon looked at his laughing face with dismay and let out a short sigh.
“What are you reading these days?”
“My Heart… Wait a moment.”
Jaewon felt his lip muscles contract and pulled the book from his bag. His uncle saw the title and showed interest, saying it looked fun.
“What’s this?”
Flipping through the book, he marked a question at one part. It was the first page.
This book began in England and grants the wishes of its recipients as it travels around the world once a year. Now that it has come to you, it must leave your side within 4 days. You must send 7 copies, including this book, to people who need luck. Photocopying is fine. You may call it superstition, but it’s true. In England, JOHN NASE received this book in 1930. After making a wish, he told his secretary to copy and send it. A few days later, he won the lottery and received 2 billion. Someone received this book but forgot it had to leave their hands within 96 hours. He was soon fired. Only after learning this fact did he send 7 books and found a good job again. US President Kennedy received this book but just threw it away. He was assassinated 9 days later. Remember, if you send this book, you’ll have 7 years of good luck; if not, 1 year of misfortune. And you must never throw away or deface this letter. 7 copies. Those who receive this book will be blessed with luck. Though it’s difficult, think of it as good being good. Wishing you 7 years of luck…
On the first page visible when opening the book was written a passage that had once spread like wildfire. It was unique, but ultimately just part of the marketing.
“It says it has to leave you within 4 days?”
“You believe that? And we just started this book less than a week ago.”
His uncle, whose ears were like blotting paper, readily believed absurd superstitions. Looking at him, Jaewon could understand why the Bible described humans setting up golden calves even while being swept away by floods.
“Just throw it away and read something else.”
“I don’t want to be dismembered alive by Jung Sujeong.”
Jaewon recalled when he’d once lost a book, whether intentionally or by mistake. It happened to be out of print, and at that time Sujeong was like a berserker warrior burning through life candles.
“It says you’ll win the lottery if you send it.”
His uncle’s finger pointed to the page. A few days later, he won the lottery and received 2 billion. It was a tempting phrase, but he didn’t invest in such foolish uncertainty. Lottery tickets cost enough that buying one per week meant you could buy a brand-name fried chicken once a month.
“Buy one, a lottery ticket.”
Still, he didn’t refuse free things. Jaewon politely accepted the ten thousand won his uncle offered.
“Oh right, uncle, you said you had something to tell me. That’s why I came.”
“Nothing.”
He was skilled at raiding the henhouse then playing innocent. This wasn’t the first or second time he’d pulled this kind of trick. Jaewon felt murderous for a moment.
“Take this too.”
His uncle pulled out an additional fifty thousand won from his wallet. Meeting eyes with Shin Saimdang[2], his violently shaking heart regained its composure.
“Do you have any further edicts to bestow?”
“Nope, punk.”
“Then this humble one shall withdraw.”
Rising from his seat, Jaewon backed away with quick steps. Just as he reached for the hospital room door, his uncle called from behind.
“If you win, we split it.”
“Don’t make me laugh.”
“Always thanks, Jae-ni.”
“Just get better quickly.”
Jaewon grumbled as he pushed open the sliding door.
“Jae-ni.”
A voice flowed through the closing door gap. Looking up, he saw his uncle with an unreadable expression. Rarely serious, he added with clear pronunciation:
“Life is a gamble. You have to bet to know.”
What nonsense.
Leaving the convenience store after buying the lottery ticket, Jaewon scoffed. Life itself was planned. Was there anything that could be achieved without a plan? The genre of the world he lived in wasn’t shounen manga but reality.
Jaewon wanted to succeed. A life with narrow choices always made him feel suffocated. He’d devoured many books hearing that reading would show him the way, but few had actually helped. Especially humanities and philosophy seemed impossible to use productively unless he developed a time machine and went to ancient Greece.
The field where Jaewon found answers was financial investment. The fastest and most dazzling path to results within the bounds of law.
Investment.
There’s a saying that to become rich in a capitalist country, you need to inherit wealth, strike oil, or be born an IT genius or talented merchant. Jaewon realized early that he fit none of these categories and jumped into the stock market. Direct capital gains, high cumulative returns, low costs and fees, excellent liquidity leading to superior cashability. There was no reason for him not to be captivated by stock investment. Of course, there were dark sides too, and you might see the amazing magic of bills transforming into toilet paper, but there were no profits without risk anyway. Above all, as a laborer born with a shovel instead of a silver spoon, this wasn’t the time to be picky about hot or cold rice.
Investment methods were diverse. But examining each carefully, only one well remained. Real estate investment was out of the question, and saving being the answer was outdated. Considering inflation, interest rates, and taxes, savings accounts were no different from paying the bank storage fees to keep your money. You couldn’t aim for life reversal with bonds. Though he couldn’t help being born an ant, Jaewon wanted to live and die as a super ant if possible. For him, stock investment was the ladder that would change his social class.
Youth has high collateral value. Jaewon’s ultimate goal was to buy comfort in middle age and beyond with the infinite possibilities of youth. In his life where he didn’t waste a single moment and drew blueprints for the future, nothing was unplanned. Prestigious university admission, top of his department, full scholarship, brilliant award history. Jaewon, who had steadily walked the elite course, was on the road to success. These were things he couldn’t have achieved if he’d lived life like a gamble.
Participating in the mock investment competition was also part of the blueprint. With millions in prize money and internship opportunities at major companies, it was worth challenging for, but above all, Jaewon wanted to test himself. Several years since jumping into the investment world, it was time to take the stage to demonstrate the knowledge and know-how he’d accumulated. His total return over the past month was 168%, a performance that could be considered safe for placing if there were no major variables. Though he’d started in a direction contrary to his investment philosophy by using typical short-term investment methods employing swing and scalping techniques, all roads lead to Rome, and anyway, he was cruising.
With everything proceeding smoothly, Jaewon sighed and shoved his phone in his pocket. He looked up at the sky. Clear desire flickered over his seemingly indifferent face.
While it was encouraging to have his skills recognized, it was still just a mock competition. Looking at the mock investment funds growing by the day, he couldn’t help but fall into thought.
If only 1 billion would fall from somewhere.
What he regretted most at this moment was the absence of seed money[3]. Though it was a board where variables and fluctuations made predictions uncertain, shortcuts definitely existed. The ants’ biggest mistake was jumping into the market without seed money, and the presence or absence of seed money positioned investors at different starting lines. Of course, 1 billion wasn’t exactly pocket change, but Jaewon believed in thinking big.
However, instead of money, rain began falling from the sky. The raindrops that started one by one grew increasingly fierce, creating a hazy mist on the ground.
“Damn it.”
Having been backstabbed by the weather service for the fortieth time this year, Jaewon had no umbrella. Weighing the value of time waiting for the rain to stop against the cost of a convenience store umbrella, he started walking.
The mart located next to the hospital was pleasantly spacious inside, befitting a large mart. With many convenient facilities, this place was perfect for efficiently using time besides shopping, and was one of Jaewon’s favorite locations. He wandered briefly at the entrance before heading straight to the bookstore. Enjoying the air conditioner’s refreshing breeze, he browsed between the shelves. He selected books recommended by his major professor and put them in his basket, then carefully examined the required reading newly listed on Korea’s largest financial cafe, ‘People Who Hate Losses.’ When his head grew tired from all the text, he looked around at educational books to read to Sujeong. By the time he looked up from being buried in piles of books, considerable time had passed. Noticing the area had become sparse with people, he selected books to purchase, paid, and left the bookstore.
“Goodness, why’s it raining so much?”
“Should’ve brought the car.”
Despite his efforts to wait it out, heavy rain was still pouring outside. It didn’t seem to be a passing shower. After staring dejectedly at the rain, Jaewon acknowledged his miscalculation and changed course to buy an umbrella. Having wasted time trying to prevent unnecessary expenses, it was indeed an unlucky day. No wonder life was called a gamble.
On the way to the household goods section, when he reached the electronics area, a feast of colors unfolded. Dozens of TVs were broadcasting various channels. About to pass by without interest, Jaewon stopped at the voice flowing into his ears.
“…Now let’s begin the drawing.”
It was a sound he normally wouldn’t have heard even peripherally. Had the single piece of paper in his pocket changed his sensory system? Turning at the word “drawing,” he saw a screen with a man and woman standing side by side. Jaewon remembered that today was Saturday—lottery drawing day.
Talk about timing.
Memories bubbled up of when he was seven, full of turbulent dreams of striking it rich, asking his uncle to buy lottery tickets and losing all his assets. He’d lived a life unrelated to gambling since tasting that bitter defeat. The taste of the yogurt drink from back then was still vivid on his tongue, yet here he was as an adult, buying lottery tickets and watching the drawing broadcast. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and it might be fun to match numbers. Besides, with the stock market closed on Saturday, his schedule was leisurely.
“Winning is just matching the numbers regardless of the order the balls come out.”
As the neat-looking host finished speaking, balls in the round sphere began rolling. After colorful balls bounced around like corn in a popcorn machine, one popped out through the hole.
“Here’s the first winning ball.”
Jaewon watched the rapidly spinning ball and fumbled in his pocket. While he unfolded the twice-folded paper, the host continued.
“Blue ball number 23.”
His eyes followed the words. Among the densely arranged numbers, he could see 2 and 3 stuck together. Not a bad start.
“The second winning ball is…”
Jaewon nonchalantly flipped over the lottery ticket. On the cheap paper that could easily be mistaken for a receipt was printed nearly 80 billion worth of hope. How human it was to invest in futile hope. In that sense, lottery organizations were no different from issuing torture disguised as luck.
It would be a dud anyway. While contemplating how to tease his uncle who said life must be gambled to know, the drawing continued, and when he came to his senses, the fifth winning ball was being announced.
“The fifth winning ball, green ball number 45.”
Having missed consecutive numbers, he quickly moved his eyes. At the bottom of the screen were the numbers drawn so far, and the discontinuous numbers were strangely familiar. As his eyes busily went back and forth between screen and paper, at some point focus disappeared and his pupils dilated.
“…What?”
He examined the lottery ticket repeatedly in disbelief, but everything remained the same. In 30 seconds, he had become a third-place winner. His pulse, which seemed to have stopped momentarily, began surging.
Just one more match.
The situation flipped in an instant, and expectations that had converged to 0% completely changed. Third place alone was worth doing handstands and clapping feet over, but being human naturally made one aim higher. Countless possibilities and permutations swept through his mind. The circulation speed of blood throughout his body changed, and his heart beat as if it would burst, the sound resonating through his entire body.
“What number is the second-place bonus ball?”
“Yes, the second-place bonus ball is yellow ball number 8.”
The last ball’s rotation stopped and it rolled out through the exit. While the host repeated the winning numbers, six balls appeared on screen in order.
“Then we’ll see you next week.”
“Thank you.”
With the hosts’ closing remarks, the program ended and commercials began. Though there was no longer any reason to stay, Jaewon didn’t budge.
He pulled out his phone, motionless as a plaster statue. His fingers rapidly tapped the screen, bringing up the lottery site. The lottery ticket slowly rose and aligned next to the phone. Each number was reflected large and clear in his pale iris as if through a magnifying glass. The numbers on the smartphone screen and the six numbers arranged horizontally on paper matched perfectly. Under the mart lights shining down like spotlights, one shadow disappeared.
Splash, splash, splash!
Each time he struck the water-pooled ground, muddy water splashed everywhere with loud splashing sounds. The figure running through the rain seemed urgent, as if being chased.
“Ah!”
“Hey, watch where you’re going!”
He collided with pedestrians while turning a corner, but Jaewon kept running without an apology. Curses flew at the back of his head, but he didn’t care. He had lost all sense of discretion.
Life really was a gamble after all.
His overturned values occupied his brain’s control tower. Without time to savor the situation of millions rolling in instantly, Jaewon had become the protagonist of a reversal drama.
3 billion!
The prize money was a whopping 3 billion won. After tax deductions, 2 billion would be deposited, and splitting that with his uncle would ultimately put 1 billion in his hands.
“Whoa.”
Running recklessly down the slope, Jaewon nearly slipped and fell but barely caught his balance. He bent over, bracing both knees while gasping for breath that had risen to his chin.
“Huff, huff, haah, cough.”
Coughs and breaths burst out incoherently. He’d run so hard at full power that he could taste blood in his throat. In his yellowed vision, he saw the darkened sky as if ink had been spilled.
A billion really had fallen from the sky.
“Haah, ha… Hahahaha!!”
Jaewon wheezed like a madman, then finally threw his head back and laughed like a lunatic. Rain poured down, forcing his eyes shut and flowing into his mouth, but nothing could ruin his mood. Blood pumping from his agitated heart raced violently through his vessels along with adrenaline. Unable to overcome the surging excitement, he punched at the sky.
“Hey, fuck. I’ll use it fucking well.”
Roughly spitting out words directed at no one in particular, he started running again. The backpack on his back shook violently up and down with his running. Before long, a crosswalk appeared. The signal was still red, but breaking even his own rule against jaywalking, he sprinted across. When he was halfway across, he heard an ominous sound behind him, like something falling to the ground.
Jaewon came to an abrupt stop, nearly falling forward, and looked back. His belongings were scattered messily on the road. Apparently he’d rushed out of the mart without properly closing his bag after winning.
His old pencil case used for years, several ballpoint pens worn down to the core, notebooks and books. Among them, one thick book caught his eye. It was Sujeong’s current favorite.
What fucking… no, where did this book come from?
A new arrival came to the used bookstore. It’s in perfect condition like new, pretty good right?
Now you’ve even conquered used bookstores? I applaud your exploratory spirit.
Oh, it’s nothing… I feel shy being praised.
…
The day he first encountered My Heart Says You’re the One, Jaewon had wanted to close his eyes. It was a title that instantly threatened his immunity built up through years of training. Though they were still in the early parts so he didn’t know the content well, it surely matched the title. Though he endured with professional spirit, lately he’d been feeling his finger joints weakening.
Must leave your side within 4 days.
Suddenly he recalled the passage he’d read with his uncle. Come to think of it, today was exactly the fourth day since acquiring the book. Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to let the book go. It would be ruined by rain anyway, wouldn’t it?
Won the lottery and received 2 billion.
Shaken by temptation, he recalled another sentence and shook his head. Coincidence or not, he really had won the lottery and 2 billion had rolled in. Even if he sent it away eventually, he shouldn’t treat it like this. Besides, Jaewon had no confidence to face Sujeong’s fury blazing like a dying flame. As he resolved to finish properly and approached the book:
Before he could even bend down, someone picked up the book. A hand with prominent tendons disappeared under an umbrella, and the sight of raindrops flowing down the shoe surface seemed to play in slow motion.
The straight-standing figure then remained motionless. Rain fell steadily in the silence, and mist rose from the wet black asphalt.
Jaewon tilted his head to examine the person before him, but couldn’t see properly due to the umbrella. Still, he could feel the gaze watching him.
“…”
“…”
In the thick, alien silence, he slowly raised his arm. The hand holding out the book was large and pale.
“Ah, thank you.”
Quickly taking the book, Jaewon bowed his head and turned around.
Even his shirt is black.
The man in black from umbrella to shoes was like a grim reaper. The moment that thought flashed through his mind, his steps came to an abrupt halt. He whipped around, but the man had disappeared.
“…What the.”
Jaewon muttered to himself, rubbing his neck. Whether from the cold, his skin had broken out in goosebumps.
“…Hm?”
He suddenly felt something strange about the texture at his fingertips and paused. Thinking it was his imagination, he touched it again, but the sensation remained the same. The smooth surface wasn’t wet at all.
Did Sujeong waterproof it or something?
With his spine tingling, he hurriedly opened the pages. The pages, stiff as if starched, flipped smoothly. After getting this soaked, the cover might be one thing, but the inside pages should have been wrinkled and warped. However, it was dry as if existing in another space. The printed text hadn’t smeared at all and could be read clearly, and raindrops slid off the surface of the pages as if they were coated.
“…What is this.”
While he stood dumbfounded by the phenomenon, the pages fluttered. Frowning at the flowing rainwater, Jaewon’s eyes widened. An unbelievable scene began unfolding.
The letters in the book were rapidly disappearing. Jaewon couldn’t help his dismay at the sight of text being cleanly erased as if someone were pressing the backspace button.
What am I seeing right now?
Thinking he might be seeing things, he blinked repeatedly, but the letter evaporation phenomenon continued across pages. As he busily followed the flying letters, he discovered a faint light seeping from the book. As if entranced, he stared at the light, and the disappearing letters suddenly stopped.
“Oh, uh…?”
The letters rushed toward Jaewon all at once. They crawled over the pages onto the back of his hand and up his arm. He screamed and tried to shake his arm, but his body wouldn’t listen. The moment the letters crawling over his skin like ants wrapped around his wrist, his legs wobbled and his arm plunged deep into the book.
“What, what the. Oh, fuck…!”
In the blink of an eye, his right hand disappeared beyond the book. Before he could even be shocked, an enormous force began pulling his body. The moment Jaewon tried with all his might to resist and throw the book away:
HOOONK-
A loud horn sound assaulted his ears. Reflexively raising his head, he saw a huge truck rushing at him from close range. The thoughts of “when did it” and the instinct to quickly dodge intersected, but his body wouldn’t budge as if nailed to the spot. Without even time for his life to flash before his eyes, the moment he closed his eyes at the headlight glare, his consciousness cut out.
***
When he opened his eyes, he saw an unfamiliar ceiling. Looking at the dimly lit space, Jaewon slowly came to his senses. His vision wavered all hazy white, forcing him to close and open his eyes forcefully several times. The space before him looked nothing like a hospital or ambulance interior.
Am I dead?
Jaewon slowly recalled the situation before losing consciousness. Though he couldn’t see clearly due to the blinding headlights, that silhouette was definitely a large vehicle by rough estimate. Despite being hit by such a vehicle, he felt no pain anywhere in his body. For a moment he suspected his body might be severed, but all his limbs were intact.
That wasn’t all. When he raised his arm, it shot up toward the air. Looking at his dangling wrist, he narrowed his brow. He’d moved normally, but his arm felt strangely light.
Jaewon got up and stepped down from the bed. His whole body felt light as if it might fly away. Tilting his head in confusion, he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fist.
Seems I’m not dead…
He had awakened in a small room. Looking around the studio filled with simple furniture, Jaewon took a step. Feeling a sense of disconnection as if his eye level for viewing objects had subtly changed, he examined the room. With so few belongings, it was difficult to determine the location.
Did someone save me like a superhero right before the truck hit?
Perhaps someone had saved him like a superhero and disappeared (though the studio looked too shabby to be a hero’s home), or a good Samaritan had picked up his unconscious form and cared for him.
He imagined various scenarios but couldn’t reach a proper conclusion. Jaewon stood before a mirror hanging on one wall. His eyes widened as he tried to check for any external injuries.
Jaewon normally owned a well-trained body with nicely developed muscles from consistent exercise. However, the body reflected in the mirror now was merely smooth, with no prominent muscles. As if he were back in high school-
As his thoughts reached this point, he frantically began feeling all over his body. But being in just underwear, there was nothing to grab. Returning to the bed and wildly flipping the bedding, blankets and pillows were flung to the floor and dust rose thickly. Among them, he couldn’t find any clothes or belongings.
Jaewon braced one hand on his waist while covering his eyes with the other. The sudden physical change brought an ominous premonition. Change, after all, meant time had passed.
How long was I unconscious?
If he’d been lying down long enough for muscle to waste away, it was quite a long time. Rapidly growing anxious, Jaewon tried to check the date, but the sparse room had neither TV nor computer. Anxiously biting his lips, he opened the closet and threw on whatever clothes he could grab. He immediately ran to the entrance, shoved his feet into shoes, and kicked open the door. Fortunately, the sneakers fit perfectly as if made for his feet.
The area around the studio building was deserted. Wildly looking around like a madman, Jaewon ran out of the alley onto the main road. He headed straight for the first person he saw.
“What’s today’s date?”
“Huh? Today… the 28th.”
The passerby seemed flustered by his aggressive approach but answered the question dutifully.
“What month?”
“Uh… March.”
“March?”
The accident had happened in May. His vision swam at the fact that the year had changed, but Jaewon barely pulled himself together. There was still more to ask.
“What year is this?”
At the consecutive questions, the passerby’s expression became subtle. But she maintained her kindness and answered with a smile. Jaewon concentrated and listened carefully, but strangely heard nothing.
Is it because the surroundings are noisy?
Though the street was quiet, Jaewon forced himself to think this and asked the passerby again. But this time too, his ears went deaf as if submerged in water, and he couldn’t understand the words. He tried to read her lips but failed. As he continued asking, the passerby backed away with a frightened face, then turned and ran.
“Ah… I’m going crazy.”
Watching the fleeing passerby’s back, he scratched the back of his head vigorously. After that, he grabbed and questioned several more passersby, but the results were always the same. Conversations that had flowed smoothly turned them into Babylonians when the year came up.
“Is this guy crazy?”
The last person left looking at him like a bug after Jaewon asked five times in a row. Jaewon gave up on human resources and turned to other methods.
He did his best. Newsstand papers, street billboards, PC cafe computers, even passersby’s digital watches. But he couldn’t confirm the year anywhere. Everything was blurred as if processed, making identification impossible.
Goosebumps slowly rose on his back. An unbelievable phenomenon was occurring matter-of-factly. Jaewon struggled to think as rationally as possible while holding onto his collapsing sanity.
- Cognitive problems due to traffic accident aftereffects.
- Not in his right mind.
- Actually dead and in the afterlife.
He established several hypotheses, but nothing fit the situation perfectly. His cognitive ability was perfectly normal except for the year issue, and seeing how desperately frustrated he was by the current situation, he was in his right mind. The third seemed most plausible but was equally despairing.
Even in the afterlife, I’m still dirt poor?
No, fuck, where was such a law? Though Jaewon didn’t particularly worship any god, he’d always believed without doubt that he’d go somewhere good after death. Since heaven and hell would each have capacity limits and operate on relative evaluation, Jaewon was very confident in that area. Because he had neither money nor time to commit evil deeds.
Living with happy circuits thinking his next life would be different from this crappy draw, yet still all he had was a cramped studio in the Korean peninsula, worn-out sneakers, and a wallet in starvation mode. This was hell in the truest sense. If God had either conscience or business ethics, this couldn’t happen.
Once dirt spoon[4], even dying a hundred times and being reborn, still dirt spoon, is that it?
Jaewon briefly stopped thinking. Otherwise he felt he might go insane with rage. Taking deep breaths to calm the fury that seemed to burn up all his brain cells. In his bloodshot eyes, he saw his reflection in a shop window. A man with messily tangled hair and pale complexion wearing an old jumper looked utterly pathetic.
Jaewon looked at his appearance, barely distinguishable from a racetrack homeless person, with dismay. Perhaps because his body had shrunk, the jumper looked comically large. The moment he thought his height seemed to have decreased too, his eyes popped wide.
Memories that had sunk into his unconscious exploded like flashes. Clothes in the closet, the glowing bookshelf, rapidly erasing letters, and such flashed before his eyes like snapshots.
They gathered in one place to finally create a certain possibility, and the moment Jaewon thought of it, he ran back the way he’d come.
CRASH!
The poor door without a door lock generously welcomed back the one who’d left empty-handed. Rushing into the house, he first threw open the closet. Among the mostly dark clothes, a white shirt stood out like a crane among chickens. With black decorative lines on the sleeves and collar, it was obviously a school uniform at a glance. Jaewon hurriedly pulled out the shirt and closely examined the chest area. The name on the light blue name tag reflected in his pupils.
Bae Jaewon
Thinking he’d misread, he roughly rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. But looking twice more, it was still his name. After staring blankly for a while, he turned his eyes to the emblem on the pocket.
Jonse High School
Reading the letters in the emblem, he felt his mind growing hazy. In his entire life, he’d never heard of or seen a high school with this name.
Except once.
“Ah, wait. Don’t tell me.”
Jaewon clutched his head and frantically searched through his memories.
Never heard it from anyone, but I remember pronouncing it out loud. I read it with my own eyes. Not on a screen but on paper.
Publications he’d encountered flashed through his mind. His consciousness swimming through pages packed with text stopped at one point.
Jonse High School.
It was the high school attended by the protagonist of the novel he’d last read. At that moment, something struck his mind like lightning. JOHN NASE, 4 days, luck… At the end of it, Jaewon discovered a very small and precious existence he’d forgotten.
“Fuck, my lottery ticket!!!!”
***
For two hours, Jaewon had been lying on the floor like cold rice. After throwing himself around in a fit, he had no more strength to rage. He’d turned the whole place upside down but couldn’t find even a scrap of paper resembling a lottery ticket. An old flip phone was the only meaningful excavation. Grasping at straws hoping for any information, he thoroughly examined the device inside and out, but while it was the same model as one Jaewon had used in the past, nothing was stored on it. The phone was clean as if factory reset, yielding no clues.
Staring vacantly into space with hollow eyes, he suddenly recalled the book’s first page.
This book must leave your side within 4 days.
You must send 7 copies to people who need luck.
John Nase who listened won 2 billion in the lottery, the president who didn’t listen and threw it away was assassinated, and he who threw the book away then picked it back up was trapped inside the book, leaving behind his winning lottery ticket.
“Sob, sob…”
Jaewon, his mouth twitching, began to sob. If he’d known this would happen, he would have sent that damn book off in a flower palanquin. But still, where does giving 2 billion then taking it back exist? Even Satan would get stabbed doing things this way. The more he thought about it, the more resentful and infuriating it became.
At first he thought he’d returned to the past. His subtly younger face value and relatively smaller body sufficiently suggested that possibility. Especially since Jaewon had grown 3cm taller in the military, he could immediately notice the difference. However, many elements crushed his hopes—Jaewon had never attended Jonse High School, and the studio was different from where he’d lived. What about a world where you couldn’t see or hear what year it was? Above all, the sensation of being wrapped in letters and pulled into the book left no room for mental victory.
I thought I was seeing things before dying.
Jaewon reached one conclusion. Though he didn’t want to believe it even at this moment, he seemed to be inside a novel. And in the novel his cousin Jung Sujeong loved so dearly, at that.
What was the book title?
His brain that had fallen into panic had memories all mixed up. Sniffling, he began organizing the ruins of his mind.
*Is He Handsome? Do Re Mi Fa Sol La Ti Do? My Love, That Bastard?
He’d read too many books to get a handle on it. As Jaewon chronologically sorted his memories, he eventually recalled the title of the most recently read book. At that moment, he tightly closed his eyes and clenched his fists.
“…”
Jaewon, who had aged considerably in just one minute, opened his eyes wide.
I’ll return no matter what.
This wasn’t the time to despair endlessly. He had to return to reality as soon as possible. The lottery prize collection period was one year from the payment start date of that drawing.
Given time: one year.
Jaewon glared at the ceiling covered in blue mold. There had been no free rides in his life so far. At this moment of gaining and losing his first windfall, he couldn’t leave his mind and body idle for even a second.
Goal: early completion. Find the protagonist and speedily wrap up the ending.
Stories always had endings. Jaewon raised his arm to wipe the tears from his eyes. Two hours was enough for despair. He would overcome this incredible tragedy and return to the reality where 2 billion awaited. He kicked open the door and took his first step into this unknowable world.