Chapter 69: A Future Planned for After Death

“Mr. Ahn Yijeong.”

“Huh? Yes, Jaeyoon?”

“…I genuinely had a really good time today.”

Suddenly, I found myself wanting to apologize for the first time we met, when I’d unintentionally acted rudely after failing to hide the ugliness of my true feelings.

He’d probably only meant it as a joke, yet I’d been so ashamed of my miserable appearance that I convinced myself he was pitying me or mocking me outright.

I’d even gone as far as insulting him internally, calling him a damned Esper and wishing I’d never see him again.

“The food we shared today was really, really delicious, and what you told me helped comfort me a lot too. I’m not very good with words, so I might not express it well, and maybe this sounds cliché, but I truly mean it. Honestly, I had a wonderful time.”

In the end, it had all been inferiority complex.

No matter how much I’d been hurt by others, that didn’t give me the right to hurt people indiscriminately in return.

Just because Ahn Yijeong was an Esper, comparing him to the members of Attack Team 3 had undeniably been unfair of me.

As I forced myself to acknowledge my own ugliness and shortcomings, embarrassment overwhelmed me so badly that I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

I was so busy trying to hide my pathetic self that I couldn’t even properly meet his eyes while thanking him.

Beep—

“……”

“……”

Faced with Ahn Yijeong, whose thoughts remained unreadable, I awkwardly swallowed in the sudden silence when a pager alert suddenly rang loudly from somewhere nearby.

The pager in my jacket pocket remained silent, so the incoming call was probably his.

But even after checking the notification, Ahn Yijeong stood frozen in place for quite some time.

Unable to watch any longer, I finally called his name.

Only then did he snap back to reality and hurriedly grab his pager.

Somehow, he looked strangely absent-minded.

“…I’m really sorry about this, Jaeyoon. I just got an urgent support request, so I think I have to go.”

“You don’t need to apologize. If it’s urgent, then hurry. I can just take the shuttle back to the center from here.”

Through the speaker that hadn’t fully disconnected yet, the sharp voice of Manager Lee Geonyeong — Ahn Yijeong’s supervisor — burst through mercilessly.

He practically sounded ready to kill Ahn Yijeong for disappearing without a word, relentlessly continuing his tirade with veins bulging in his neck.

It got so intense that even my ears hurt just from overhearing it, forcing me to hurriedly shove Ahn Yijeong forward and tell him to leave already.

Despite his rank as assistant team leader, Ahn Yijeong bowed and apologized so desperately that it was almost pitiful, trying his best to calm Manager Lee Geonyeong’s anger.

Ahn Yijeong truly seemed kind by nature.

“Haah…”

I’d had a nightmare since early morning, leaving me with an unpleasant lingering feeling all day.

Since I’d barely slept at all, the dark circles under my eyes had grown noticeably worse, enough to make me sigh every time I looked in the mirror.

The nightmare itself wasn’t particularly complicated.

I’d simply stood alone among the ruins of a destroyed building, covered head to toe in ash, crying so hard my eyes felt swollen raw.

I didn’t even know why I was so sad or what felt so unfair.

I just cried endlessly.

— What’s with you, Han Jaeyoon? Why are you sighing? Did something happen?

If I had to guess, this was probably another side effect of the medication.

Recently, I’d started waking up constantly from chills or uncontrollable trembling in my gums.

At this point, nights where I couldn’t sleep properly outnumbered the nights I could.

I’d writhe in pain until the medicine slowly kicked in, and only then would I practically black out into sleep.

And every single time, without fail, I had nightmares.

— Han Jaeyoon, I asked what’s wrong. Can’t you hear me?

“…I hear you. I just didn’t sleep well last night, so I’m not feeling great.”

— What the hell were you doing all night that you couldn’t sleep? You’re already skinny as hell. If you stop sleeping properly too, won’t you waste away even more?

Lee Shinwoo’s scolding voice echoed vividly through the speaker.

Ever since that phone call with Song Ahyoung, someone from the shelter in District 2’s Relief Special Zone contacted me twice every day without fail.

Lee Shinwoo called once in the morning, and Song Ahyoung once in the afternoon.

The two of them never skipped a single day, always calling to briefly exchange updates and check on me.

“Lee Shinwoo.”

— Yeah, what? Sick of hearing me nag again? Honestly, if the shelter had proper phones installed back then, I would’ve called you at least once or twice a day even after you entered the center. Your body’s weak as hell, but you never eat properly. Your meals are garbage too. Caring about the shelter people is fine and all, but at least take care of yourself while you’re at it—

“…Your leg.”

— ……

“The injured one. Is it okay?”

Truthfully, from the moment I first heard Lee Shinwoo’s voice again, that was what I’d wanted to ask.

Was his leg alright?

It was a miracle he’d survived such a desperate life-or-death situation, but even so, how many people could calmly accept spending the rest of their lives limping because of permanent damage?

That fact always weighed heavily on me.

No matter how desperately I tried to help him, the reality that he’d have to live with a disability forever would never change.

If I had enough money to provide him with proper medical support equipment, I’d have wanted nothing more.

But with my current situation, even covering the shelter members’ living expenses — excluding the half Kwon Yiyul was paying — already pushed me to my limits.

Of course, for someone like Kwon Yiyul, covering all of their expenses would’ve been effortless.

The reason he deliberately forced half the responsibility onto me was probably his way of reminding me that the shelter’s current peaceful life depended entirely on the both of us.

If either one of us broke the contract and disrupted that balance, not only my future but the futures of everyone behind me would collapse as well.

Kwon Yiyul had intended to use this contract that way from the very beginning.

When it came to things like this, he was terrifyingly clever.

— Hey, Han Jaeyoon.

“Yeah?”

— Don’t tell me you were awkwardly stalling this whole time just because you wanted to ask me that? That’s unlike you.

“…No, I just wanted to know if your leg healed properly and how you’ve been feeling. I don’t really know what things are like over there anymore. Did that question bother you?”

— Why would it bother me? I should be happy instead. My friend was that worried just to check on how I’m doing.

Lee Shinwoo’s cheerful laughter rang out.

Typical Han Jaeyoon, he teased.

Always unnecessarily timid.

He told me that just because he’d have to live with a disability didn’t mean the value of his life had disappeared too, so I shouldn’t underestimate him like that.

— One missing leg doesn’t mean much. Thinking every disabled person is automatically miserable is just prejudice anyway, isn’t it? I still eat well and sleep well. The medicine here’s really high quality too. Even serious wounds heal fast with just a little treatment. Honestly, my appetite’s become too good lately. I’ve only been here about two weeks, but I’ve already gained over five kilos. Song Ahyoung keeps calling me a pig every single day now.

“Hahaha. You gained that much? What have you even been doing?”

— Doing what? Eating three proper meals a day and working hard in rehab, obviously. It’s muscle.

“Are you sure it’s muscle? You’re not mistaking fat for muscle, are you?”

— Seriously? Hey, you definitely teamed up with Song Ahyoung behind my back, didn’t you? How are you two saying the exact same thing word for word? Unbelievable.

The heaviness left behind by my nightmares finally started easing.

At the same time, a bitter smile formed faintly on my lips.

I wanted to protect the peaceful life they had now, no matter what.

I wanted them to never again sleep on freezing floors.

I wanted them to eat good food and live the rest of their lives in a decent environment.

And for that to happen, they needed substantial financial support while they adjusted to living in this city.

— Oh right, Han Jaeyoon. Even if you’re busy with work at the center, how have you not shown your face even once? Song Ahyoung cries all the time saying she misses you. Though now that she’s older, she doesn’t say it directly anymore.

“……”

— Han Jaeyoon? Han Jaeyoon?

That was why I came up with the idea of dying in a workplace accident.

Normally, when a Guide died, the center provided enormous compensation to the bereaved family depending on factors like their team affiliation and contributions to society.

Otherwise, who in their right mind would willingly work in a center where dangerous incidents happened constantly, especially alongside Espers who were basically living time bombs?

I was a Guide assigned to Attack Team 3, the most influential team in the center.

At one point, I’d even received a plaque of appreciation directly from the center director for my contributions.

Because of that, the compensation payout for my death would probably be at least two or three times higher than that of ordinary Guides.

That amount should be enough for the shelter members to continue living comfortably in District 2’s Relief Special Zone.

“…Sorry. Looking back, I’ve been too distant. No matter what, I should’ve visited at least once to make sure everyone was okay.”

— Hey, forget it. No point forcing yourself.

“Later. When I get the chance later, I’ll definitely come visit. I’ll bring tons of gifts too, so tell everyone not to be too shocked.”

— Yeah, yeah. Your mouth’s the only thing working properly, huh? Just hurry up and come already. At this rate, I’m gonna forget what my reunited friend even looks like.

It was time to hang up.

If I listened to Lee Shinwoo’s voice any longer, I knew I’d end up choking up and crying again.

So I used work as an excuse and wrapped up the conversation, saying we could talk more later when Song Ahyoung called in the afternoon.

Thankfully, Lee Shinwoo ended the call without suspicion.

“Workplace accident… workplace accident…”

Afterward, I spent a long time circling the words guiding overload and workplace death written across the memo paper in pen.

More than five crumpled sheets with similar notes were already scattered across the desk.

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