"There's something I need to know," Ray said quietly. "What happened after I died of malnutrition? What happened to my family? What happened to Elena… and you guys?"
At that moment, the weight of countless memories finally caught up to them.
Ray felt his chest tighten as fragments of a life long gone flooded back—laughter echoing through narrow streets, late-night games played under dim lights, shared meals that tasted better simply because they were together, and shared dreams spoken with reckless confidence. His hands trembled slightly, fingers curling against his palms, and he lowered his gaze, afraid that if he looked at them for even a second longer, the tears he had been holding back would finally fall.
Ryan's shoulders stiffened, his jaw tightening as he stared ahead, eyes unfocused, as if the present had faded and only the past remained. Grace clasped her hands together, pressing them tightly against her chest, knuckles whitening as though she were trying to steady a heart beating far too fast.
The silence stretched on—heavy, suffocating—filled with things left unsaid and emotions too deep, too painful, to voice.
Then—
Ryan exhaled deeply, a long, uneven breath, as if letting out years of bottled-up memories.
"You did not die of malnutrition," he said hoarsely. "You were murdered."
"What?" Ray asked, shock rippling through him.
"You joined the new team two years before you died," Ryan said, his teeth clenched so tightly his words trembled with restrained fury.
"Yes," Ray agreed quietly.
"You used to visit Elena and Grace with me more often," Ryan continued. "And I used to go to your place more often as well. But everything changed when your team manager changed." His voice wavered, heavy with sadness and anger.
Ray swallowed, memories sharpening painfully, and continued, "That manager was the daughter of the owner and used her father's power to manage our team. More like she was obsessed with me. She was a bit clingy for the first eight months, so I planned on changing my team. In the ninth month, she asked me out, but I rejected her."
He paused briefly, as if steadying himself.
"And so, to take revenge, I had to face all kinds of her bullying—to the point she was giving me less food, saying I needed to be on a diet."
"But things became worse. Three months before I died, I was asked to stay at the dorm and wasn't allowed to go out. Sort of like a prisoner. If I tried to leave, I was blocked."
Ray's fingers tightened around the teacup in front of him, though he hadn't realized he'd picked it up.
"I knew it was the manager's plot, so I played along until the day of the tournament I had to join. I did really well. Although we didn't win, I made sure I got MVP. And then, on the live screen, I announced I was changing teams after the tournament."
"I was offered a contract right away. I signed the deal with a different team."
He exhaled slowly.
"My team and that lady manager were furious. They knew I only had one month left on my contract. So they forcefully tried to make me die of starvation."
The room felt colder.
"I stayed alive until the last day," Ray said softly. "I thought I'd see the next day, meet you guys, join the new team, and stay away from them forever. But I couldn't make it."
His voice dropped to almost a whisper.
"My only regret was that I couldn't meet you guys… or see my parents in the last three months."
Ryan and Grace broke.
Tears streamed down their faces as their bodies trembled, shoulders shaking uncontrollably. For a long while, neither could speak. Ray watched them quietly, understanding too well the grief clawing its way out. He gave them time—time he wished he'd had back then.
Finally, Ryan rubbed his eyes roughly and shouted, his voice cracking with rage.
"You managed to live until the next day—but those cowards murdered you with poison!"
Ray stiffened.
"They thought if you joined the new team, their reputation would be destroyed and they'd be exposed. But they didn't know that the moment you were poisoned, your new teammates' coach and manager came to rescue you and took you to the hospital."
Ryan swallowed hard.
"You fought for a day, but your immune system couldn't make it."
Grace covered her mouth, sobbing silently.
"The new manager and coach called the police," Ryan continued. "They found out that the manager and one of your teammates poisoned you so they wouldn't get in trouble. The manager only got three years in prison. The teammate got seven."
Ray smiled faintly, a tired, bittersweet smile.
"That's better than nothing. Even the manager got caught—even if only for three years. She was still protected by her rich dad."
Ryan wanted to say something more, anger flashing across his face, but Ray cut in gently.
"What happened later? How are you and Grace here? Did you live well? What about Elena… and my parents?"
Ryan and Grace sighed together, as if the air itself had grown heavy again.
Ryan spoke first, his voice subdued.
"After you died in 2019, you left some money for us and for your parents in your will. I never thought you'd make a will at such a young age."
Ray's eyes softened.
"That money was used for my sister," Ryan continued. "But she was devastated after your death. With her depression, she lost her appetite, and her illness became worse."
His voice broke.
"She died three months after you."
Grace then spoke, her voice trembling but steady.
"After that, an even greater disaster fell upon the world. A disease spread everywhere. Millions of people died."
She lowered her gaze.
"We both died during that time."
Ryan nodded slowly.
"Before we died, we knew your parents and ours were still alive."
He hesitated, then added softly,
"And… we were married before we died."
Ray let out a long breath and rubbed his eyes.
"Enough crying for one day," he said gently. "I'm just glad to meet people I knew from my past life again."
Ryan smiled sadly.
"Only if my twin sister were here. How nice that would be."
For a brief second, a vague image crossed Ray's mind—someone familiar, just out of reach—but it vanished as quickly as it came. He hadn't confirmed anything yet, and he didn't want to give them false hope.
"Anyway," Ray said, forcing a lighter tone, "drink some tea and tell me—what do you want?"
Ryan and Grace lifted the cups of herbal tea Ray had prepared.
The moment they tasted it, their expressions mirrored Aries's reaction.
"What tea is this?" they asked in unison.
Ray chuckled.
"It's made by a specialist. It hasn't been perfected yet, so we're not selling it."
Ryan slammed his cup down lightly, exasperated.
"You should sell this unfinished product—it would still sell, man!"
Ray smiled knowingly.
"Some inventors only want to sell their creations once they're perfect."
He looked at the young couple, eyes thoughtful.
"We went off track and didn't manage to continue what we were supposed to talk about."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"So… why did you come to meet me before knowing who I am?"