# Chapter 9
* * *
Hwiseo swam energetically. He rode waves and also went underwater. Hwiseo vaguely knew this was a dream. No matter how much he swam, he didn’t get tired. He did backstroke, breaststroke, and swam happily through the sea.
When Hwiseo was young, he lived at the beach in front of his house once the weather got warmer. He spent all day with kids his age, holding onto buoys in the sea and riding waves, and diving from rocks whenever possible. Even after his friends left town one by one and he was alone, Hwiseo still went to the sea. It was the only thing to do, and as he grew older, he came to appreciate the indifferent calm of the ocean. Sometimes he felt the merciless power of nature, but that made it more awe-inspiring and something he wanted to be close to.
When he beat the physical education department in the relay race at the university’s sports festival, he realized his stamina was better than others. His father had said back then: “That’s because you’ve been playing in the sea since you were the size of a bean, always in the water as soon as you opened your eyes. What’s 8 hours? You swim in the sea until sunset – that’s real exercise.”
He swam hard, just like those days of play that were like training. Then someone called to Hwiseo. They called him “this bastard,” “that bastard,” “fucking bastard.” Hwiseo’s eyebrows twitched. He moved his arms and legs harder. The voice disturbing his sleep grew louder. No matter how hard he tried to move, his body wouldn’t budge. He got angry.
“Ah, why can’t I move!”
His eyes snapped open. The voice he’d heard in his dream was clearly audible nearby. It was the sound of men arguing. It was very irritating. When he turned his head, he saw a white ceiling, and under the large window on the right was a dark brown sofa. Judging by the IV in the back of his hand, this seemed to be a hospital, but across from him was an arched open door. It was the kind of interior design he’d only seen in cafes.
Thud. He threw his head back onto the pillow. Fortunately, he wasn’t dead. He tried moving his toes and then his arms. His whole body felt extremely heavy with muscle pain, but he could move. He got up from the bed and dragged the IV stand, walking awkwardly toward the source of the noise. A space furnished like a living room appeared. On the soft beige carpet was a table and sofa, and by the window was a dining table with a vase. The large flat-screen TV and monochrome paintings on the wall made it harder to guess where this place was. Just then, a man sitting on the sofa spotted Hwiseo and shouted.
“I really should… you fucking bastard! What the hell are you doing! We delayed album preparations to put you in this drama because you insisted on acting, but now you’re about to get kicked out, you know that? Go kneel and beg to Director Jung! What exactly are you good at? You half-wit!”
You ungrateful bastard worse than a dog. The owner of the noisy voice was a short, middle-aged man with a large belly. He was using informal speech and cursing right off the bat. It reminded Hwiseo of that troublemaker who had come to the laundry shop. The man who ultimately set fire and took his father away from him. He felt disgust. Hwiseo spoke one syllable at a time, as if chewing each word with his teeth.
“If I’m a dog bastard, are you a pig bastard?”
The man seemed to know him, but these were people Hwiseo had never seen before.
“What, what did you just say to me?”
“I said you’re a pig bastard.”
The man’s face turned red, and a timid-looking man standing next to him tried to stop the troublemaker who was jumping up and down.
“Hwiseo, you stop too. Are you feeling okay? They said you shouldn’t move yet, so go lie down! Oh my. Please calm down, sir. He’s a patient.”
“Patient, my ass. Hey you bastard. I won’t let you off today. How dare you. Are you talking back to me?”
Hwiseo pulled out the IV line from the back of his hand. Then he grabbed the IV bag and threw it on the floor where the man was standing. With a thud, the liquid soaked the carpet a dark color. The men flinched, probably not expecting this action. Hwiseo firmly grabbed the IV stand with both hands.
“That I didn’t talk back to troublemakers like you! That I couldn’t beat you up! That’s been my regret, you fucking bastard.”
Unlike his words, his voice and eyes were very calm. His heavy body, warmed by the hot anger rising from his toes, moved lightly.
“This bastard must be crazy.”
Though he cursed, he seemed startled by Hwiseo’s intensity. The middle-aged man, without even having time to fix his disheveled hair, fled to the corner of the lounge to avoid Hwiseo approaching him. But it was useless. Hwiseo didn’t show mercy and struck with the IV stand. With a crash, a vase on the cabinet fell and shattered on the floor. The man barely avoided it, but as he fell to the floor, his palm was pierced by glass shards.
“I know very well what happens when you just put up with guys like you, thinking ‘let’s just endure it,’ ‘let’s not make trouble.'”
Hwiseo said, standing close and looking down at the man. To quote the soup restaurant grandmother, Hwiseo’s father was someone who could live without laws. He would have given 500,000 won to such a troublemaker rather than properly getting angry. In the end, Hwiseo was his father’s son. He tried to live properly, but always said, “We don’t avoid poop because we’re afraid of it, but because it’s dirty,” and endured things.
“They look down on you and just hold grudges.”
The thin man who had rushed over belatedly hugged Hwiseo from behind. He recalled the emotion he felt when he heard about the arsonist who had passed out drunk in the police car. The anger had only been temporarily dormant beneath his excessive grief. Along with that memory, rage rose to his head.
Just then, the door connecting to the lounge opened. A tall man in a suit entered and spoke. His low, powerful voice drew everyone’s attention.
“What’s going on here?”
That man, Wooseung, looked around the messy hospital room. In particular, he cast a slightly longer glance at Hwiseo in his disheveled patient gown. Wooseung had heard the news of Hwiseo’s discovery right after his evening schedule ended. Last week, Lee Hwiseo had disappeared near Yangjaecheon, leaving only his car behind. Wooseung knew he was in a situation difficult enough to want to die. However, as he thought Hwiseo was rather timid, he didn’t expect him to make such a foolish choice.
As Hwiseo was a celebrity, they had carefully searched for him through a private agency. It seemed his maternal grandfather had also secretly sent people, but they couldn’t find even a single shoe. But today, a passerby discovered an unconscious Lee Hwiseo at the southernmost estuary dam in Gyeonggi Province.
“He was found by people walking in the park around 3 PM today and transported by 119. We’ve moved him to the VIP room at the affiliated hospital, and after simple examinations, he’s now resting,” recalled the words Secretary Go had said while heading to the hospital room. Resting, huh? Wooseung smirked. Lee Hwiseo, who had been about to strike the agency CEO with an IV stand, was looking confused.
“It’s an interesting scene, but I’m quite busy.”
As the secretary helped the injured CEO up, the manager who had been standing nearby also assisted and went outside. When Hwiseo remained still, Wooseung approached and took the IV stand from his hand. A little blood was flowing from the back of his hand.
Hwiseo was really shocked. He was so surprised that even his anger subsided instantly. It was unlikely for someone who looked like Peter to be common. Not just his appearance, but his height and build too. The fact that Peter was here meant… well, he’d just fallen into a sea whirlpool, but why had he thought it might be a wormhole? Hwiseo sat down on the floor, overwhelmed by a sense of futility. It was impossible after all to go to another universe where his father existed.
“Mr. Peter?”
It felt like he had believed a story that could only exist in movies, as if enchanted. Like people with incurable diseases who give their entire fortune believing in claims of miracle medicines. Hwiseo thought he needed to organize his thoughts. So he spoke words that were neither self-talk nor questions.
“So I didn’t succeed. In the original world, I fell into the sea at the end, and Mr. Peter, did you save me?”
“What do you mean you didn’t succeed?”
Hwiseo didn’t answer readily. He couldn’t ask if he had failed in attempting time travel to another world through a wormhole. Instead, he looked around. What is this hospital room, or I guess it is a hospital room? Wooseung placed a handkerchief on Hwiseo’s left hand, which was fidgeting. Only then did Hwiseo notice the stinging on the back of his hand. Blood was flowing from the needle hole where he had pulled out the IV. Pressing on the wound, Hwiseo asked. He was curious why this man, who was neither the soup restaurant grandmother nor the village chief, was in front of him.
“But why are you here, Mr. Peter?”
“I don’t understand why you keep calling me Peter.”
Hwiseo realized his mistake at the man’s response, which was neither formal nor informal. He tried to recall the name of this handsome man he had heard before. It was an unusual surname. As he was racking his brain, he noticed the man’s face was slightly different from his memory. Back then, his bangs were down and he was dressed casually, so maybe that’s why, but he didn’t have this cold aura.
“Let’s go see the doctor first.”
Wooseung turned away first, as if he was too annoyed to talk more. Hwiseo got up hesitantly and followed, looking at the tall, large man’s back.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
