Chapter 252

Warning: This episode contains depictions of depression and suicide.

Chapter 252

There was actually still time before I would really have no choice but to click the button. The status abnormality countdown hadn’t ended yet. The problem was that I would have no spare time to sit down and look into it after the Chuseok holiday.

Straight after our new album, we’ll have to get into preparations for the end of the year. If we were going to show people that the group was still capable of putting out albums, we couldn’t waste all the opportunities that the end of the year brought. There would be no time for me to work through whatever I was about to see.

I don’t know what it’ll show me… but I can’t pass up using the time while I have it. This was the most reasonable decision, assuming that I would be able to continue working as an idol. If I returned to my original body, perhaps I would regret not waiting a few more months. I decided not to think about that, however. I’d made my decision based on a future in which I continued this career. I sighed.

Here goes.

Reveal the Truth ☜ Click!

I pushed the dreaded words in the pop-up window, and as expected, everything faded to black. It felt like my mind was being plunged into darkness, sinking deeper and deeper.

***

“So you’re twenty years old.”

“Yes… That’s right.”

I was sitting in a familiar restaurant—they served soup and rice, and I’d started going there quite often after I began preparing for the civil service exam. The food was cheap, and it didn’t feel weird to sit and eat alone. However, at this moment in time, I wasn’t alone.

Opposite me sat a glum-looking guy, eating a bowl of soup. I’d found him lying on the ground next to a motel nearby, wearing no jacket and clearly deeply distressed. I’d brought him here to buy him a meal.

This probably makes me a meddler. I had enough on my plate without getting involved in other people’s troubles, but it was too late to go back now. I sighed.

The boy flinched, then said in a tiny voice, “Uh… I don’t have any money.”

I stared.

Did you think I was going to ask for money from someone looking this rough?

“I brought you here since I was planning on getting something to eat, anyway. Finish your food,” I said.

“Thank you…”

A meal here cost less than ten thousand won, but he was acting like he’d committed a criminal offense by letting me pay for him. Perhaps I just didn’t look like the type to buy food for anyone. I glanced at myself in the mirror next to the counter. Wearing a thin jacket as well as a hat and glasses, I looked like a typical civil service exam student. At least I didn’t look down on my luck. In fact, I looked far more presentable than the guy sitting in front of me.

Hmm. I looked him over as he reached for some diced radish kimchi with his chopsticks. He was twenty years old, so he couldn’t have run away from home. He was probably in a similar situation as me, but he had failed to get into college.

“Do you have anyone you can call?” I asked.

He said nothing.

“What about a job? A part-time job?”

“I… got fired.”

I could make a guess at what had happened. Picking up my spoon, I drank a mouthful of soup. Then I said, “The first thing you should do is go to the community service center.”

“What…?”

“The administrative welfare center. Go and see if you meet the criteria for basic living subsidies. If you do, you’ll receive payment every month. And even if you don’t, there’s probably some sort of aid you can receive. Ask a lot of questions.”

I continued to advise him about what he should do as I ate. The boy seemed confused but didn’t interrupt me.

He must feel uncomfortable. Given his age, this was unsurprising. I quickly finished the last of my soup and got up.

“I’m leaving. Finish your food.”

He’d do as I’d advised if he wanted to—I couldn’t force him.

“W-wait!” He called to me quickly as I tugged on my winter jacket. Voice trembling, he said, “Uh… Thank you. And I’m sorry.”

I paused for a moment, then found myself saying, “Have you ever worked at a BBQ restaurant?”

“What? N-no…”

Underage people usually weren’t hired at those sorts of restaurants, unless they were related to the owner or something, so this response was normal. I crossed that option out on the list and moved to the next one.

“I’ll introduce you to someone who can offer you a job at a convenience store. Call them. Say the guy who used to work there told you about it. I’ll give you a phone number.”

The owner of the BBQ restaurant was the most vulnerable to a sad backstory, but the man who ran the convenience store was also a pretty decent guy. The kid seemed even more taken aback than before.

“I… I don’t have a phone…”

Resisting the urge to sigh, I wrote my number and the convenience store owner’s number on a napkin, copying it from my phone.

“Just ask for an advance and get yourself one of those phones that come free on a plan. You won’t be able to work without one. Here. Take it.”

He took the napkin with a blank expression, muttering without raising his head, “Thank you… thank you so much.”

I assumed that he was crying, and looked away.

I was about to leave when he said, “Uh… can I have your name?”

After all the meddling I’d done, I supposed it was only right that he knew my name.

“Ryu Gunwoo…”

Well done, Gunwoo. You saw yourself in some guy you’ve never met before and wasted your time and mental bandwidth on him.

“What’s yours?”

The twenty-year-old raised his head and said with more vigor than I’d heard from him so far, “Park Moondae.”

It was a curious name. I nodded and was finally able to leave the restaurant, wanting nothing more to do with this strange situation.

Park Moondae contacted me occasionally even after that.

“I don’t know if you remember, but I’m Park Moondae, the one you bought soup for before. Thank you for telling me about the convenience store job.”

For example, he texted to thank me, saying he’d gotten his first month’s pay after getting a job at the convenience store, and offered to treat me to a meal. I didn’t really meet with him all that often, however. There was really no reason to, and I was already busy enough without adding some kid to the mix.

He offered to pay me back for my help, but I didn’t really expect much from him. Besides, all I’d really done was buy him a bowl of soup. Seeing him every now and then for a meal wasn’t bad, however. I did nothing but study all day, and it was probably taking a toll on my social abilities.

On a different note, however, things were not going well for me.

“This is messed up.”

I’d never even entertained the idea that I’d be disqualified at the interview stage, which was meant to be considerably easier than the exam itself. I’d even thought that I’d done a great job, objectively speaking.

Blind interview, my ass. Those bastards! I could only assume that my family background had some kind of negative bearing on the selection process.

I even framed my cursed family history in the nicest way I could. Using the same method had worked well in an interview with a professor I’d had during college. The outcome was usually good, but it seemed I had terrible interviewer luck this year. I sighed, lying back on my mattress. My brain felt shattered to pieces.

Maybe I’ll just get drunk. There wasn’t anything else for me to do. And so, three years into my stint as a civil service exam student, I failed the goddamn interview and drank by myself.

The next morning, I decided I would give up.

“This is f*cking it.”

My reason for doing so was simple. I’d run out of money. I’d only planned to go this far from the start—I planned to take the test in my second year, and then again in my third. Maybe I could scrape by if I picked up some paparazzo work and built up my savings again, but I had to consider my age, and getting a job was the safer option.

My goal was to secure stable employment. I can’t let the means replace the goal. All I wanted was a job that would give me work and pay no matter what, so that I wouldn’t starve even if the worst should happen. I wondered for a moment if I should try a lower-level exam, but that would cost me new resources, so I put that thought aside for now.

Surely I can find a job at twenty-nine. I’m not too old yet. That year, I got a job at a moderately sized company. I believed that I was adapting pretty well, but… I really couldn’t be sure.

“Finish it by tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

Perhaps I’d just run out of mental fortitude after only twenty-nine years of life, or perhaps I was just not well-suited for a nine-to-five job. I sometimes found myself lost in thought while taking the bus home after working overtime. Life… just didn’t feel worth living. Nothing felt good, and life itself was an endless chore.

There wasn’t anything particularly bad about my life, of course, but the opposite was also true. Surviving in the office wasn’t overly hard, but office politics were a bore. Working toward a promotion didn’t feel particularly rewarding, either.

I don’t think feeling like this is normal, is it? There was a sense of lethargy that seemed to fill every moment of my life. I briefly considered seeing a psychiatrist, but it was a no-go—I didn’t want to risk losing my job.

Getting a new job was also an option, but I really didn’t feel like doing that either. This company wouldn’t allow any time off for employees to prepare to change jobs. I gave the matter a lot of thought in my own way, but there didn’t seem to be a suitable answer. What did I have to entertain myself with other than the occasional drink by myself? There was one thing that appealed to me—photography.

That’s a pipe dream. It was too expensive a hobby. I lacked the time and the money. Working as a paparazzo wasn’t sustainable, and it wasn’t a suitable replacement for my current job. There had been plenty of cases over the years where I’d gotten too little in return for my investment.

“Hmm.”

In the end, I found myself sitting in my studio apartment, ordering something on the internet that would put an end to everything. Doing so sparked a brief flash of something that felt like interest. I’d been thinking about it for weeks now, at least, since it wasn’t a decision made lightly. However, all that thinking came to an end thanks to one night of destructive behavior on my last weekend alive.

A thought flitted through my mind.

Am I depressed? The thought didn’t last long, however, since I stopped breathing not long after.

***

I gasped, shooting upright and flinging myself out of bed. Pressing my hand over my heart, I could feel it beating rapidly.

My breath… I could breathe just fine. Exhaling, I draped myself over the bed’s headboard. My pajamas were soaked through with sweat.

What I experienced just now… Did that really happen? Up until now, the truths I had been shown were other people’s memories. But this…

Was that me? It had felt like I was recalling my own memory. The problem was, I couldn’t actually remember doing such a thing. My last memory was of failing my civil service exam, getting drunk, and falling asleep. I hadn’t gotten a job afterward or tried to kill myself.

And most importantly… I never met Park Moondae. Even the first part of my vision was wrong. If I’d done something so idiotic, something that gained me absolutely nothing, there was no way I’d have just forgotten about it. The first time I’d ever laid eyes on Park Moondae was in this body.

Stranger still, the timing seemed off as well.

“Park Moondae wasn’t dead.”

The first time I’d pressed that button, Park Moondae had attempted suicide in a motel using sleeping pills. Then a strange realization came to me. An attempt was only an attempt.

Did Park Moondae not succeed? I considered this. Park Moondae had purchased a non-prescription sleeping pill—a sleep inducer—at a pharmacy.

Can a non-prescription drug even kill someone? The moment I began to doubt this, I was suddenly sure. Looking it up on my phone, it turned out I was right—no matter how many of those pills you took, the most you would suffer were mild side effects. Combining the season and date I’d noted in the memory, it was clear that I’d met Park Moondae after his suicide attempt.

When I woke up in his body, he’d been lying blankly on a motel bed. This was the only logical explanation. And if this guess was correct, I’d entered Park Moondae’s body without him actually dying.

“Then the question is… Where did you go?”

No one answered, of course. I hadn’t been given answers in all this time, so why would the system start now?

In the end, I even summoned the status window to ask it a question.

Are you Park Moondae, by any chance? The status window didn’t respond. Instead, I was shown a strange message.

[-Balancing in progress-]

I don’t know what the f*ck that means. In any case, it wasn’t about to tell me where the real Park Moondae was. His whereabouts weren’t the only thing weighing on me, though. What was the absurdity that I just witnessed myself doing?

I really did that? I never thought I would be stupid enough to do something like that. But even if I had, why did I have no memory of it? Was twenty-nine the maximum age for an idol?

“This is driving me nuts.”

An incredulous laugh escaped me. Ryu Gunwoo didn’t even exist in this world, so there was nothing I could do to try and find out more, unlike with Park Moondae. The moment I’d entered Moondae’s body, I’d looked up Gunwoo’s phone number, social media account, and even university.

There wasn’t even an account— Wait. The photos and videos of idols that I’d taken had still existed. I ran my hand through my hair. What if I rephrase the question to, Did Ryu Gunwoo ever exist in this world? Is there a way to look for clues that he did?

There was.

“So, Moondae, why don’t you go with one of the members to their home this Chuseok holiday? It can be my place, if you’d like.”

Ryu Chungwoo’s house was likely to contain traces of me and my parents, be it in a photo album of a family trip or a video. I suddenly heard knocking on the door.

“Park Moondae? Are you all right?”

It was Bae Sejin.

Did he hear me talking to myself?

“Yes… I had a cramp.”

“Would you like me to get you a massager?”

“It’s fine. It’s gone now. One moment.”

I got up and changed. When I opened the door, Bae Sejin brightened, already sitting at the kitchen table. Then he froze.

“Your clothes…”

“Yeah.” I nodded. I was dressed to go out. “I’ll be right back. There’s someone I need to meet.”

I needed to know the truth.

***

The first day of his holiday was particularly peaceful.

“Kami, get over here.”

Ryu Chungwoo called to the black toy poodle that jumped onto the sofa and then on top of him. The smell of Korean savory pancakes and a holiday-themed TV show only added to the vibes. They weren’t at his grandfather’s crowded home, so it was a lot calmer than usual, too.

“I’m leaving!” his younger sister said.

“Yeah. Have a good time.”

“You should have come a little earlier! Damn it!”

“Haha. I guess.”

His sister left, grumbling that she hadn’t been able to enjoy a fancy meal at the expense of her brother, who’d finally come home. Chungwoo laughed and saw her off. They were only a family of five, counting the dog, but regardless, their home rarely felt empty. He engaged in warm conversation with his parents.

“So, how do you like the other members?”

“They’re good kids. They’re nice, and…” Chungwoo caught himself thinking of Bae Sejin as younger than him. Then his mind drifted to a younger member who felt much older. “Yes. I guess that’s why you wanted to invite them over to the apartment on the holidays!”

“Hahaha!”

His parents brought up the very person he was thinking of, as it happened. Park Moondae was the most mature of the younger members, and Chungwoo had wanted to invite him over. Naturally, his parents hadn’t disagreed, but they hadn’t welcomed it eagerly, either. Even if he was a close friend of Chungwoo, it wouldn’t be entirely comfortable to have someone who wasn’t part of the family over during the holiday.

Hmm. Perhaps it’s better that he went to Sejin’s instead. Moondae was a perceptive guy, and Chungwoo knew he might have been uncomfortable had he come.

I hope he’s doing all right. Chungwoo uploaded a photo of his dog to the TeSTAR group chat and watched as photos of a wide variety of foods were uploaded in return.

“I guess they’re all doing well.”

The day seemed as though it would come to a peaceful end. That evening, however, just as night was about to really set in, someone rang the doorbell. The person outside the door refused to leave, which meant it wasn’t a delivery man.

“I’ll go take a look,” Chungwoo said.

“All right!”

He got up from the sofa.

Is it a stalker? Chungwoo thought rather pessimistically. He checked the intercom, finding someone completely unexpected. Chungwoo immediately opened the door.

“Moondae?”

“Hey.”

Park Moondae was at his door. He’d arrived without any warning. His eyes did not contain their usual calm, but they were instead glowing with some kind of resolve.

“I came over, just like you asked. Can I come in?”

Chungwoo felt a mysterious chill go down his spine.