Go Hoon sprang to his feet and rushed over to Bae Jung-yoon.
“Bae Jung-yoon!”
He patted both shoulders urgently, but as expected, there was no reaction. Go Hoon quickly bent down and brought his ear close to the man’s mouth.
He could hear faint breathing. Fortunately, the blow to the head hadn’t been instantly fatal.
Panicked, Go Hoon looked around wildly. Spotting the phone on the floor, he snatched it up and held it in front of Bae Jung-yoon’s face. He worried the lock wouldn’t open if facial recognition didn’t work while his eyes were closed, but the phone unlocked effortlessly.
“Yes!”
He immediately dialed 119. After a few short rings, a male voice answered from the other end of the line.
– Hello, this is 119. How can I help you?
Suppressing his trembling breath, Hoon steadied himself and spoke as calmly as possible.
“Someone collapsed here. Please send an ambulance as soon as you can.”
– Can you tell me exactly what happened?
“My friend got hit by a heavy decorative item that fell off a bookshelf and collapsed backward. I think he hit his head on the floor. There’s blood coming from his forehead and the back of his head.”
After explaining the situation, he hastily grabbed a piece of mail from the living room table to provide the address the operator requested.
– Thank you. An ambulance has been dispatched. In the meantime, please monitor the victim’s condition and begin emergency first aid…
The operator continued talking, but Go Hoon hung up midway. He wasn’t in a state to carry on a leisurely conversation.
He’d already given them the address and confirmed that an ambulance was on the way. As far as he was concerned, he’d done his part.
He went straight to the dressing room and grabbed any clothes he could find, throwing them on.
He pulled on a pair of sweatpants directly over his bare skin, followed by a pitch-black hoodie. He tried to choose only clothes Bae Jung-yoon didn’t usually wear.
He also grabbed a thin zip-up hoodie and glanced around the room overflowing with clothes. With this much clothing, surely a couple of missing pieces wouldn’t be noticed? He worried briefly, but there was no better plan.
There was no time to dawdle. He had to get out of here before the paramedics arrived. It wouldn’t do him any good to run into anyone else. He had to make it as if he’d never been here in the first place.
He pulled a cap low over his face and zipped the hoodie up to the top. Once fully prepared, he stepped back into the living room and saw Bae Jung-yoon still lying there, motionless, as if dead.
Go Hoon unlocked the front door. It had opened so easily—he couldn’t believe he hadn’t managed it before. A hollow breath escaped him.
He passed through the inner door and was about to leave through the main entrance when he turned back to look at Bae Jung-yoon. It didn’t sit right to leave him unconscious and bleeding like that, but Go Hoon’s reality didn’t leave him any choice.
“You have to live, Bae Jung-yoon. You absolutely can’t die.”
Whispering with desperation, Go Hoon shoved his bare feet into a pair of oversized slippers and stepped out. He left the door ajar so the paramedics could enter easily.
***
Despite having lived in the officetel for a full three months, everything outside the front door felt completely foreign. No wonder—every time he’d been outside, he’d been inside a carrier, with towels or blankets covering his view.
He stepped into the brightly lit elevator and pressed the button for the first floor. Worried there might be a security camera inside, he tugged his cap down even further. Fortunately, the elevator didn’t stop along the way and reached the first floor without incident.
As soon as the doors opened, he walked briskly. He hadn’t run into a single person. Even exiting the officetel complex, he encountered no one.
He set his sights on what appeared to be the complex’s main entrance and kept his eyes forward, walking in silence. But halfway there, his steps came to a halt. He needed to get away quickly, but a nagging sense of guilt clung to his heels.
“Shit.”
In the end, Go Hoon turned around and settled near the entrance where he could still see the officetel. He decided to wait until the ambulance arrived.
His bare feet, fully exposed to the midwinter chill, gradually turned red and stiff with cold. But he felt it was the least he could do—an act of basic decency toward the person who had fed and cared for him all this time.
After about ten minutes standing there in thin clothes, he finally saw the ambulance arrive. He also caught a glimpse of Bae Jung-yoon being carried out on a stretcher. A sigh of relief escaped him, and he quickly turned away, leaving the scene behind.
After that, Go Hoon spent the next week lying low.
Thankfully, he didn’t see any news about Bae Jung-yoon. Just in case, he searched online using phrases like “man dies because of cat,” “man hit by candle holder knocked over by cat dies,” and other variations in that vein, but nothing came up.
He even logged into his long-abandoned social media account, thinking maybe he could catch some indirect news about Bae Jung-yoon.
He skimmed through posts from former classmates, but to his disappointment, found nothing. He decided to take it as a good sign—no news is good news. If something truly serious had happened to Bae Jung-yoon, someone would have mentioned it, even in passing.
After giving up on the Bae Jung-yoon search, he tried looking up terms like “cat person,” “cat transformation,” and “Ragdoll cat.” But it was fruitless.
Nothing he found could explain what had happened to him. The internet was filled with stories of werewolves and people with supernatural powers. The videos that came up were mostly mystery clips or introductions to sci-fi and fantasy films.
The only somewhat relevant term he stumbled upon was “beastkin,” but when he searched it out of curiosity, the bizarre images that popped up forced him to slam the browser shut.
“Hmmm… What the hell is this.”
Go Hoon sat cross-legged in front of a low desk, staring intently at his old laptop, then suddenly flopped onto the floor with a thud. No matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn’t figure it out. What on earth had caused his body to suddenly change like this?
“Did I get exposed to radiation without even realizing it?”
He tried the most plausible explanation he could think of, but even that felt just as far-fetched. And then, a random question popped into his mind—just how many unknown life forms could be out there in the world?
He used to scoff at the idea of ghosts and aliens. But now? He’d done a complete 180. After all, wasn’t he living proof?
He stretched out his hand and turned it over, front and back. Outwardly, he looked completely ordinary—but he possessed the ability to transform into a cat. After returning home, he’d tested it out a few times, shifting back and forth between feline and human form.
The result: Go Hoon could now freely move between both species. Once he figured out how, the transformation became almost effortless. But the sensation that came with it was nauseating—like a bout of seasickness. Because of that, he decided not to use the ability unless absolutely necessary.
And really, it was a useless power. It’s not like he planned to join a circus and travel the world, or volunteer as a subject for bizarre human experiments. So then what practical purpose could this ability possibly serve?
If he were going to be given a superpower, it would’ve been better to get something useful—like the ability to create gold with his bare hands. That way, he could spend the rest of his life rich and carefree, living as a well-fed bum. Wouldn’t that have been great?
At first, he’d briefly felt like he was someone special. But that illusion didn’t last long. A pitiful life like his wouldn’t change just because of some ridiculous ability.
And so, the question only deepened—why did this happen to him? Was there someone else in the world like him? If only there were someone out there who could explain everything clearly. But there were no divine revelations echoing down from the sky.
Go Hoon let his limp hands rest on his chest. Maybe… maybe God really does exist. He kind of wanted to believe that. It made it easier to accept the endless trials thrown his way if he imagined someone—anyone—out there actually knew the reason why.
What is life, anyway? That unusually weighty question crept into his mind uninvited. But Go Hoon quickly shook his head. Heavy thoughts like that didn’t suit him at all. Just focus on the present moment—that was his motto and his creed.
“Uuurgh.”
He laced his fingers together and stretched them upward with a groan slipping from his mouth. As his head lolled to the side, his gaze naturally landed on the front door in front of him.
