NOTES:
The original Korean text actually has intentional formatting irregularities, particularly toward the end of the passage where it depicts Lee Han-sol’s mental deterioration. In the original text, there are sections where words run together without spaces, formatting becomes erratic, and text appears to “break down” visually to reflect Lee Han-sol’s chaotic mental state and fragmented thoughts.
#142
Lee Han-sol still cannot understand the current situation. Because this kind of thing is too unfamiliar to him. This kind of thing… it’s been so long that it feels like he’s experiencing it for the first time.
He vaguely recalls a scene that remains in his memory. It was when he was young, living in an orphanage. A time when many children gathered in a small space had to jostle against each other as if compressed. There were inevitably many quarrels. Lee Han-sol himself had been caught up in such incidents a few times. Why they fought, whose fault it was—these are distant memories he can barely recall. The only clear image is of Ki Baek-woo standing in front of him, crying loudly.
‘Don’t do that to my hyung. Don’t say anything to Han-sol hyung. Waaaah.’
Ki Baek-woo’s behavior back then—the reason why he was crying when the person directly involved wasn’t, the reason why he insisted on standing in front despite being so tense he was crying—was completely incomprehensible. The ridiculous thing is that this one incident made Lee Han-sol feel secure for a very long time. Back then, it made him happy.
Because it was proof that Ki Baek-woo was on his side. So he had nothing to fear…
Lee Han-sol felt strange at this memory that surfaced after such a long time. Since he hadn’t experienced anything like this since then, both past and present felt unfamiliar.
Why go this far.
Lee Han-sol wanted to immediately ask Ham Yun-ah and Kim Jin-oh.
Why are you going this far to deceive me? Why pretend to be on my side?
But as other team members gathered due to the commotion, separated the four entangled people, and until the chaotic situation was settled, Lee Han-sol just stood quietly in the corner. And when Ham Yun-ah and Kim Jin-oh, still huffing and puffing, returned to their places, he asked after hesitation.
“…What did you do?”
Kim Jin-oh twitched his eyebrows as if displeased.
“What? What do you mean what did we do?”
“Why did you fight with those trash? It’s not even your business.”
“Damn it, I know you’ve lost your manners completely, but seriously. We come as mercenaries and you immediately say such cold things? Hey, Ham Yun-ah, you heard what this bastard just said, right?”
Ham Yun-ah, who was retying her disheveled hair, nodded.
“Hey, Lee Han-sol. I guess you’re like this because you have no sense of loyalty, but listen carefully. Friends are supposed to unite as one the moment someone directly challenges you, moving beyond mere support. Got it? That’s what loyalty is.”
“In the future, if someone badmouths me, immediately rush in and scratch them up. Yeah, don’t just say ‘It’s not my business, I don’t care~’ without any conscience. Understand?”
While Kim Jin-oh was ranting, Lee Han-sol looked at his feet, then at the stone still in his hand, then at the team members gathered and murmuring over there, and inhaled. No. That’s what he thought. I’m going to break out in hives from how much I hate this. Lee Han-sol’s lips remained tightly shut.
Can’t everyone just be the same? It wouldn’t hurt anyone to do that. Just say, live however you want, think however you want, never trust anyone and stay comfortably alone in a corner—can’t they just leave me alone like that… Why does everyone…
Why is everyone acting like this now, as if they’ve made up their minds?
Lee Han-sol suddenly thought life was too overwhelming. He had no idea what to do. He felt like an idiot. As all strength drained from his body, the stone he had been gripping tightly rolled back to the floor. He raised his head.
“Why are you going this far? What do you want from me by going this far?”
***
The doorbell rang repeatedly. Then came the sound of knocking. After that, bang, bang, bang, there was noise of someone pounding on the door as if to break it.
– Han-sol! Han-sol, are you in there? It’s Tae-hyun, Choi Tae-hyun!
Lee Han-sol, lying on the dirty living room floor with a blanket, pretends not to hear the voice coming from beyond the thick front door. He covers himself completely with the blanket, up to the top of his head.
He didn’t want to do anything. He didn’t want to go anywhere. So after his last raid, he shut himself in at home. His phone, shoved in a corner, had long since died from the incessant calls. He had smashed the TV when he threw it the last time, and the debris he hadn’t cleaned up was still in the living room. There was no radio in his house, nor did he receive newspapers or magazines regularly. Lee Han-sol was completely cut off from the outside.
He kept the curtains tightly closed. He didn’t turn on the lights. He just stayed like that, not knowing if it was morning or night. He was dead tired but couldn’t sleep. He was hungry but didn’t want to eat anything. Even swallowing water made him want to spit it out immediately. His stomach seemed very upset. Maybe that’s why. Whether it was food, people, or situations, Lee Han-sol felt everything was harmful to him and just wanted to run away. The things he possessed, the things that existed around him, the things approaching him. All of them looked like dangerous killers or deadly viruses. He hated breathing.
If someone else reached the same state as Lee Han-sol, they might rush to the hospital, saying it was a fatal illness. But Lee Han-sol was just indifferent. There was no way he could feel anything special. He was not just familiar with this kind of thing; he was a veteran. Until this current cycle, he had always been in this state. A contradictory time when he felt like dying because he didn’t want to give up on Ki Baek-woo, but instead was dying because he wouldn’t give up.
Can life really be such a farce? Even a third-rate melodrama would be a historic masterpiece compared to this pathetic life.
Lee Han-sol thought his life was excessively ridiculous. It’s too much. It’s not even worth being called cheap trash. It’s so shitty and embarrassing that he wants his mind and soul to be completely annihilated forever. No, even calling it “my life” is a paradox. Is this really “my” life? When there’s nothing I can do as I wish.
When he didn’t want to give up, he had to; when he wanted to live, he had to die; and now that he wants to die, he continues to live endlessly. Then after crumpling all his heart and thoughts, no, even his soul, and submitting to fate, after barely breaking his pride and becoming a slave crawling at the bottom, after giving up on Ki Baek-woo… fate appeared before him again. And says:
Poor Lee Han-sol, your efforts are commendable. I shall reward your admirable struggle. I will give you Ki Baek-woo again.
No, go away! Lee Han-sol tries to resist, but fate pays no attention. How noisy, shut your mouth. It clicks its tongue contemptuously and continues to ramble.
I’ve been watching, and you’ve been quite resentful of the newly created Ki Baek-woos. So I’ll give you the real Ki Baek-woo, not a fake one that you can freely condemn. This is the original Ki Baek-woo that you were so reluctant to give up on. The initial Ki Baek-woo who had committed no sin. Not the created worm that mutated, tore through you, and left. It’s him just as he was at the beginning, crouched quietly. So
don’t dare feel wronged
don’t resist
the sense of loss from not being able to control your thoughts and choices and your freedom and dignity invaded to the point where you can’t call your life your own, the irrationality of having to return to square one without any compensation for the pain you felt dying twenty-five times and the effort you poured into forgetting Ki Baek-woo, the dilemma that forgiving Ki Baek-woo would be admitting your weakness and failure and not forgiving Ki Baek-woo would mean repeating this pain forever, and the miserable paradox that the moment you make a choice for your peace you are also arranging the same peace for the villain who inflicted this pain on you
miserable and desperate memories that inevitably arise before all clues related to Ki Baek-woo and the resulting anxiety, uncontrollable emotions terribleself-hatredunstoppablyselfharmcuttingbeatingburningorfreezingdestructivebehaviorsthatdestroyyouseIfdifficulttoenduresuicidalimpulsesdeep distrust making it impossible to trust anyone even yourself, resulting in a broken social network the lonely isolation of being unable to accept goodwill as goodwill loss of judgment to the point where you can’t recognize friends as friends depression and helplessness and hatred and trauma paranoia miserable self-pity fear violence cognitive dissonance terrible anger anger anger anger anger guilt about being angry at Ki Baek-woo hellish contradictions where pain and guilt coexist inferiority complexes anyway etc etc so many fucking bad aftereffects
are none of my business so bear them well
and obey docilely.
With those words, fate disappears.
Lee Han-sol simply cannot think of this as his life. It just seems like a prank by the system, by Jung Yi-dam, and by Ki Baek-woo. He doesn’t know. Lee Han-sol was confused. Now he couldn’t even distinguish who the main enemy that made him like this was. Whether it was the system, Jung Yi-dam, or Ki Baek-woo.
Yes, looking back, all of Lee Han-sol’s conflicts are rooted in Ki Baek-woo. It turns out that the genre of Lee Han-sol’s life was a suspense thriller with a twist. The true axis of evil that makes Lee Han-sol miserable is actually Ki Baek-woo, and Lee Han-sol is just a fool who loved his enemy and ruined himself—such a pathetic story…
At this point, Lee Han-sol can’t help but wonder if he himself is the problem.
‘I want to die.’
That’s why he wants to die. From some point on, that’s all he wants. Because dying is the only way he can think of to perfectly escape this insufferable yoke. He feels like his entire body is rotting from how tired he is of the present. He doesn’t know how many times he has lived his current age. Maybe that’s why. He cannot imagine next year, the year after that, and ten years later. The word “next year” feels unfamiliar. For him, next year is the bed where he lies with Ki Baek-woo—a place where he can describe even small noises, passing smells, the texture of the air. The exact point where his tragedy begins. The point that keeps repeating. That’s why he just wanted to end everything. And how fortunate, he finally learned a way to truly die.
It was so simple.
He just had to throw away the current Lee Han-sol, the twenty-five deaths, the resentment that helped him endure them, the anger, the defense walls he had built up—all of them into the trash. Just as he had finally given up on Ki Baek-woo after dying twenty-five times, he could give up those things too. Along with his desire for revenge.
For Lee Han-sol to truly die, he had to kill that bastard Jung Yi-dam first. He had to personally grant peace to that vile bastard who pushed Lee Han-sol into tangible pain, who was desperate to escape this world. And by his own hand, directly. It wasn’t even funny.
‘After all this, now I’m supposed to become Buddha? Do they want me to act like Jesus? Love your enemies—that’s for you guys, trash.’
He doesn’t know. Lee Han-sol hated everything. He didn’t want to go left or right. The way forward was blocked. So he just wanted to go backward. Take one step back and settle with nothing changing from this state. Lee Han-sol
is afraid of Ki Baek-woo.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
