The infirmary always smelled like fermented cabbage. Si-woo suspected the scent came from Dr. Kim's stained lab coat, but he preferred to remain silent. Nicknamed Kim because of his intense fondness for kimchi, the school doctor was hard to figure out. His graceful face and long braided hair suggested a refined person, in stark contrast with his thuggish air and gang-leader demeanor.
When the infirmary door opened, the two teenagers found Dr. Kim leaning against the open window, a cigarette dangling from his lips and a bowl of kimchi nearby. His coat already had a large red stain on the chest. He stubbed out his cigarette hastily and walked over to them with long strides.
— You better tell me the other guy looks worse than you!
A vein throbbed on his forehead as he ran a frustrated hand through his bangs. Si-woo also noticed several piercings on his eyebrows. How he'd been hired remained a mystery to him. Il-seong, for his part, was in too much pain to care. He slumped down onto one of the infirmary beds.
— Jeunk probably got a few scratches from punching me, he said, trying to sound casual.
All he earned was a smack to the back of the head.
— No one ever taught you to pick your battles?
For once, Si-woo agreed with the doctor. He didn't appreciate Il-seong joking at a time like this. Especially with his face swollen and probably a broken nose. It would take weeks for him to recover! Si-woo jabbed his elbow into his friend's side. Il-seong turned pale and lay back down, stifling a scream.
— If you've got something to say to me, please use your words.
— You're an idiot! Si-woo exploded. I hope it hurts! If you'd stayed out of it, none of this would've happened.
— Yeah, but then you'd be the one lying here.
Il-seong got a point there. But it still hurt. Si-woo clenched his fists behind his back, restraining his wrath.
— You're forgetting our rule.
— You're right, sorry.
He wasn't sincere. He was actually proud of what he'd done today. He hadn't backed down, had stood up to Jeunk, and Si-woo... had acted like a coward. If Il-seong could be brave despite his injuries, then Si-woo was the villain in this story — the one who used his friend. Worse than that : he was a spectator of the show and he even couldn't appreciate it.
— It's not that your little talk isn't fascinating, it's just shitty, Dr. Kim cut in. Go back to class and leave your buddy alone.
With his usual sensitivity, the school doctor shoved Si-woo into the hallway.
— Alright, he said, closing the door behind him, tell me everything, kiddo.
Si-woo stared at him, unsure what to say. It wasn't often someone — especially Mr. Kim — asked him a question like that.
— Il-seong told you all you need to know. Don't play dumb, sir.
— With you? I'd definitely lose, he shot back.
Si-woo thought he just wanted to mess with him for catching him during a smoke break. But the doctor crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes with interest.
— It's not the first time Jeunk's smashed your faces in. But I've never seen you react like this before. You usually just shut up, even when you're being hit to the core.
Dr. Kim leaned in so close their eyes were in the same level. Si-woo shivered under a strange pressure in his heart.
— I know something happened. Talk to me!
His commanding tone nearly choked Si-woo. He must really look bad if even Dr. Kim was worried. He couldn't hold back anymore — he burst into tears.
— It's all my fault, Si-woo admitted. Jeunk insulted me and Il-seong defended me. And I just stood there. I'm pathetic.
— Totally! You should've joined the fight!
— But I'm scared! Si-woo screamed.
He didn't care that they were in the school hallway, or if anyone heard. All the pressure from the past two years surged up. Il-seong's actions had shown him what he refused to admit: that he was a coward who would throw his best friend under the bus to survive. Or under Jeunk's fits in this case. Dr. Kim's voice was the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart.
— Alright, you're a coward. If it hurts you that much, change.
— Easier said than done, sir.
There was no point hoping for a miracle. Si-woo knew it more than anyone. Besides, he was lazy and hated sports. And that was just the physical part! Under pressure, he crumbled and couldn't say no. A weak pushover and a coward — that's what he was. A hand grabbed his chin and forced him to lift his head.
— Do you want to change?
Dr. Kim's eyes were now just slits. His intense stare made Si-woo uncomfortable. Between the doctor's sudden concern and Il-seong's rebellion, everything felt upside down. He pulled away and backed toward the stairs.
— I have to go back to class! he shouted before running away from the doctor's piercing gaze.
Reaching the stairwell on the lower floor, he leaned his head against the railing and resumed his harsh self-reflection.
— I'm just a garbage bastard.
— Agreed, growled a voice above him.
He couldn't catch a break today! His irritation vanished when he recognized the voice. Jeunk stood at the top of the stairs, a predatory grin on his face. Survival instincts kicked in, and Si-woo bolted down the steps to the hall, near the secretarial office where he'd be safe. But in his panic, he tripped over his own feet and crashed onto the landing. His instincts sucked !
— I don't even have to touch you to kick your ass, Jeunk laughed as he slowly approached.
Si-woo tried once more to get up and run. But his legs were paralyzed, weighed down by the looming threat.
— Don't even think about running away, rat.
That single order was enough. His trembling limbs froze in total submission. He cursed his body for betraying him. Smelly fingers grabbed his hair and forced him to look up.
— Good boy, Jeunk sneered, then punched him in the stomach.
Si-woo collapsed with a whimper. Trying to catch his breath, he crawled away on all fours. Jeunk took the chance to sit on his back and pat his head.
— Do you know why you're a rat, freak? Try guessing.
Si-woo's nails scraped the floor under the brute's weight. The icy asphalt grated against his skin until he bled. His only act of rebellion. If Il-seong were in his place, he'd be kicking to throw him off. A tap on the head brought him back.
— I asked you a question.
The tone was almost friendly, but Si-woo could feel the threat beneath it. Jeunk's favorite game was making his victims insult themselves. That way, if anyone overheard, he could deny responsibility — and the bonus point : the insults lingered longer in the victim's mind. Si-woo denying him this pleasure only made him angrier. So, unable to resist, he obeyed:
— Because I'm small and weak.
Another pat on the head.
— Try again, Jeunk said cheerfully.
Si-woo felt sick. And to think he'd actually believed he wouldn't get hit today. What a pain !
— I'm not generous enough ?
— That too. But nah, it's because you're the kind of guy who jumps ship when it's sinking, Jeunk said, ending his twisted game.
He shifted around to get more comfortable sitting on Si-woo's back.
— I don't like cowards who ditch their friends, he said calmly. And thinking I could've wrecked both of you really piss me off — would've been a win-win for me.
— I'm sorry…
— I don't care about your fake apologies! This is your fault. If you'd just let me break your nose without a word like usual, Mi-cha wouldn't have seen me fighting and I'd probably be making out with her in some dark room right now. Got it?"
— It was Il-seong…
Another smack. On the forehead this time.
— Selling your buddy out again, huh? You really have no balls! He got his face smashed to protect YOU, deadweight. So take responsibility.
A random student, another witness of his disgraceful day, walked past them. He looked him straight in the eye, then turned away with an amused smile. What did Si-woo expect ? It would be hypocritical to hope for more. Si-woo muzzled his frustration while Jeunk laughed. No one would never let him forget this day. That's for sure!
Proud of himself, the brute jumped to his feet and held out his hand.
— Pay me back for the karaoke and beg Mi-cha to give me another shot. Do that, and maybe I won't kick your ass tomorrow.
— What? But you didn't go to the karao…
A kick between the legs silenced his pleas.
— Listen up! Since you've got no problem blaming your friend, just keep it going. Tell Mi-cha he started it and I was just defending myself. Say he's in love with her and tried to make me look bad.
— But… the money…
— That's the only thing that bother you, huh ! Didn't you say you were going to be more generous? If not, tomorrow you'll be a dead rat — just like your friend. Got it?
Si-woo nodded, trembling. Jeunk ruffled his hair like he was his damn pet. Making sure to rub in the smell of his fingers like a trace of his property.
— You're such a good boy, he laughed as he walked away.
This time, Si-woo couldn't take it anymore. If he stayed another second in this school, he'd snap. He didn't even go back for his bag — he just went home.
He wandered through the dark streets of Seoul, took the subway to the outskirts, where crumbling houses lined the road. He headed slowly toward a rundown shack. The lock hadn't worked in years — not that there was anything worth stealing.
Normally, this didn't bother him. Si-woo never needed much to live. His relatives always said he was an easy child. But today, he would've given anything for a cozy home, working lights, and his mom waiting with a warm meal.
Instead, he found the damaged floorboards, the heater still broken since last winter, and unchanged bulbs. As a welcome, he pulled a note off the fridge — hastily written by his mom before heading to work.
Had to cover someone's shift tonight.
Your food is in the fridge, finish your plate.
Love you.
He crumpled the note and tossed it in the overflowing trash. It was the third time this week — and it was only Wednesday.
— If you loved me, you'd be here, he whispered bitterly.
A cruel thought he instantly regretted. Exhausted by the day, he pulled the rice balls wrapped in plastic and a packet of seaweed soup out of the fridge. Collapsing onto the couch, he couldn't bring himself to take a single bite. Jeunk's punch was still tearing through his stomach, and a bitter, bile-like taste filled his mouth. His eyes locked onto an old family photo, and his thoughts drifted to his father.
— You would've known what to do, I'm sure, he murmured.
His father had been Si-woo's hero—until he succumbed to the Red Collapse, a pandemic that had struck two years earlier. Deadly and highly contagious, it had been named for the red patches it left on its victims. They appeared to burn from the inside out, suffocating in their own blood. Scientists had been helpless until the sudden mass release of Vaccine S. No explanation was ever given—it was as if they had created it overnight. The disease disappeared, but not the sorrow it left behind. Si-woo's mother had become a nurse, determined to save everyone. Si-woo, on the other hand, had learned that real-life heroes didn't last long.
Unable to bear his past father's smiling face any longer, Si-woo wrapped himself in a worn-out blanket. All he wanted was to forget this miserable day. If he pretended to be sick when his mother got home, maybe she'd let him skip school. Maybe, for once, she'd stay and take care of him.
— I'm such a coward, Si-woo whispered in despair.
Just then, a bright light blinded him. He shut his eyes and fell to the floor. When he
opened them, a golden screen hovered above him. Translucent text shimmered in the air.
[Do you wish to become a player?]
Yes No
Si-woo immediately sat up. He walked around the apparition, blinking like a madman.
—No way… I must be dreaming, he gasped.
The text on the screen changed.
[Are you sure you want to refuse to become a player?]
Si-woo clamped a hand over his mouth. The system must have mistaken his surprise for a response. He shifted nervously from foot to foot, trying to guess what a "player" might be. Probably someone who had to complete quests. It would be dangerous—but full of rewards. He could get stronger, even save people, like in anime. He slapped his cheeks to calm himself.
— No, calm down. What am I even thinking?
The screen flickered again.
[Are you sure you want to refuse to become a player?]
Last chance
Si-woo forced himself to breathe slowly. Maybe it was just a dream. He tried to touch the interface, which pixelated at his fingertips. A jolt of electricity shot through him, making him recoil. The tingling sensation was far too real to be a figment of his imagination. He was being offered the chance to change—to make his dreams come true. He opened his mouth to accept.
The words caught in his throat.
The day's events slammed back into him. Jeunk's voice echoed in his mind:
You're the kind to run when the ship's sinking.
A coward who ditches his friends.
Such a weak little wimp.
You've got no balls !
You're just dead weight !
He froze, unable to respond. Jeunk was right—he knew it. Il-seong's injuries proved it. He was already prepared to throw his friend to the wolves tomorrow just for a shot at avoiding pain. He'd probably sell out the entire world to escape even a minor minion of the Demon King. His rush of excitement died in an instant. He didn't deserve this chance. The great cosmic force behind it had chosen the wrong person. The one who truly deserved this opportunity was… Il-seong.
— I'm not a hero. Go offer that to someone who wants to be one.
The screen drifted closer, and its next words burned into his vision.
[You have declined to become a player.]
Thank you for your participation.
Now the interface was mocking him. Si-woo couldn't help but smile bitterly as the screen vanished. Now it was certain: the day couldn't get any worse. He'd officially hit rock bottom. Drained by pain and shame, he sank into the couch cushions.
Please let me fall asleep quickly, he prayed.
But fate had other plans. Pain flared through his lower back, exactly where Jeunk had landed his fat ass. Si-woo clenched his jaw to muffle a groan. On top of that, a bluish glow intensified above his closed eyelids. The moon had decided to come out at the worst possible moment! Si-woo groped for the curtains to close them.
They were already drawn.
He sat up, his eyes half-closed.
The living room was bathed in a soft glow. The source of this light came from a blue will-o'-the-wisp floating a few inches from his face. His mind, clouded by tiredness, didn't draw the best conclusions.
— I will be burnt alive for refusing to be a player ! he panicked.
He grabbed the still-cold seaweed soup. Just as he was about to hurl it at the glowing threat, a new screen—this one a translucent blue—popped up with an unexpected offer.
[Do you wish to become a master?]