Actually, he had the ulterior motive of finding out who that bastard was who had deliberately left him at the entrance when he was trying to enter the accommodation. That bespectacled guy had been (captured and) there until quite late, so if things went well, he might know who that problematic bastard was.
He’d ignored it earlier, but when asked again, he did give a reaction.
“Did you ask if I was okay?”
Then, “Huuuuu.” A deep sigh that came almost like a habit.
“You don’t need to ask with difficulty… Can’t you tell by looking?”
“I thought it’d be better to hear it directly.”
That’s what he said, but honestly, the moment Son Yowan heard the other’s complaint, he thought.
‘I have no idea at all.’
That bespectacled guy, who always looked tired as if carrying all the world’s hardships alone and had eyes so dark underneath as if he hadn’t slept even a minute of deep sleep, was like that today too. The area under his eyes was admirably dark and his skin was astonishingly haggard.
On top of that, unfocused eyes that made you suspect fish eyeballs had been taken out and stuck in instead behind the glasses.
He always looked so tired that he couldn’t even gauge whether a hangover was added to it or not.
“Specifically.”
The bespectacled guy spoke slowly and sighed deeply.
“Uh, hmm, I guess you weren’t okay.”
Even though it was the usual sigh, the one he’d just exhaled conveyed a fatigue that seemed to come from deep inside his stomach, so Son Yowan hesitated.
At the same time, he was made to reflect on last night, which he couldn’t even remember properly.
‘Don’t tell me I was drunk and tormented him tremendously? Did I force him to drink? Or did I push him onto the stage telling a person like an office worker one minute before fainting to sing?’
However, memories that wouldn’t return no matter how much he squeezed them until just a few minutes ago couldn’t suddenly appear now either.
Even while frowning inside his sunglasses and thinking desperately, only the same scenes he’d remembered earlier kept coming up.
‘Drank whiskey, drank cocktails, drank traditional soju, drank sake, drank wine…’
This was also a memory that came earlier.
‘Found all the ahjussis and guys around my age and went around with them singing, playing, playing drinking games…’
This was also a memory that already came earlier.
‘In the midst of it, that bespectacled guy said he was tired and wanted to go to his room, so I followed him to his room and drank, and.’
Oh, a somewhat new memory came up.
‘That bespectacled guy was just going to lie down and sleep whether we played or not, so I woke him up and forced him to dance…’
…Wasn’t this a memory better not recalled?
Ugh.
Anyway, the fact that a new part came to mind was positive.
‘Then if I squeeze a bit more, maybe I’ll remember who threw me outside.’
“What are you groaning about so much…”
The bespectacled guy asked, but Son Yowan waved his hand dismissively. He didn’t need that bespectacled guy anymore. Just a bit more and he could find the culprit himself.
And really, the groaning was worth it. New memories came up simultaneously in his head.
“This is—”
Then, Son Yowan couldn’t even think to close his mouth that had unconsciously opened and froze like that. Soon his eyes widened as if they would pour out.
‘Uh.’
He remembered.
‘Huh?’
No, he wasn’t sure if he could call ‘those things’ that just came up memories.
‘Uh…?’
That day, at that time.
Son Yowan suddenly realized the ‘truth.’
‘I’m fucked.’
That’s what.
According to the suddenly emerged ‘truth,’ this scene was a murder play.
And Son Yowan was one of the people appearing in it.
Like broken glass shards, several scenes came to mind sporadically. The characters appearing were different and the time periods were each different, but fitting the pieces together wasn’t difficult. Because the people appearing were people he knew, and the places where they were active were also familiar to his eyes.
The location was here, ‘Manghyang.’ A massive resort that was the Godfather’s private villa but which he suddenly decided to open to civilians.
The characters were Manghyang’s ‘VIPs.’ In other words, some guests the Godfather had personally invited to privately enjoy the facilities before Manghyang was opened to the public.
And the time period was a bit later than now.
Lastly, the most important thing was the incident. Manghyang suddenly became as good as closed, and the people trapped there died one by one.
Son Yowan was flustered. He couldn’t even grasp what the scenes he’d suddenly recalled were.
‘Drama? Movie? Dream?’
One thing was certain—it wasn’t a novel.
‘It’s not text, not text.’
Because the creature called Son Yowan had the habit of immediately closing the book if an entire page consisted only of text.
‘Or… regression?’
Then Son Yowan established a somewhat more common-sense hypothesis.
“Did someone put something in my cocktail…”
Drugs? Not with ‘洋’ or ‘韓’ or ‘補’ in front, but a very vicious character attached.
That’s possible! Honestly, that’s much more common-sense than prophetic dreams, possession, or the fact that this is a world inside a movie!
Goosebumps spread all over Son Yowan’s body.
That can’t be! After rolling around in that harsh periphery, how much he’d cherished this body!
Right away, Son Yowan returned to his room, took off all his clothes, examined every part of his body thoroughly, and also observed his own pupils reflected in the mirror. Everything was normal.
“Huh?”
From then on, he became bewildered again. If it wasn’t some drug with a vicious character in front administered, then what were ‘those’ scenes?
“Just a dream…”
…That was also possible. That was more likely than a prophetic dream, uh. Though it was too vivid and detailed for that, still…
So Son Yowan shoved chips into his pocket as he grabbed them and headed to the casino. And he sat at every game table in sight and started games.
Guests coming to Manghyang, the Godfather’s private property that everyone was curious about, were of two types. VIPs who entered directly with their own bodies. And secondary guests permitted to enter only certain areas and only as holograms.
Among the buildings in Manghyang, secondary guests were most numerous in the casino. Because even secondary guests could acquire chips if they won games, and those chips could be exchanged for real money outside. However, that day—poker, mahjong, baccarat—at every game table Son Yowan sat at, the secondary guests there had to raise both hands and declare bankruptcy.
Son Yowan swept all the game tables. Was it because he was a born gambler? Or a great con artist? If that had been true, Son Yowan wouldn’t have even entered Manghyang. He would have already stripped Old Man Son’s company clean from outside.
Yet the reason he could win consecutively, sweep every game he participated in, and even rake in all the chips from slot machines was…
“3, 1, 6.”
“3, 1, 6.”
“Dice, 3. Dice, 1. Dice, 6. You got it correct.”
What he saw in that strange scene that suddenly came to his mind…
“2, 2, 2.”
“2, 2, 2.”
“You got it correct.”
The game results.
“1, 2, 5.”
“1, 2, 5.”
“You, you got it correct.”
And the results in ‘reality’ matched.
“4, 3, 3.”
“…4, 3, 3.”
The dealer’s smile wavered, and people around began murmuring.
“You got it correct.”
But the person far more flustered than them was Son Yowan.
“Left.”
“The dice are, on the left.”
“Yes, left. Correct.”
The chips piled up like a mountain, but the more they did, the colder Son Yowan’s hands and feet became.
“This time, the center.”
“C-center.”
“Center. It’s there.”
Son Yowan loved money. Yet even though chips that could buy anything in Manghyang and had more value than currency outside were piling up to a height he’d never imagined until now, he wasn’t happy. Precisely, he couldn’t even think he was earning money.
“This time, the center again.”
“Center…”
Thud!
Son Yowan, who had been continuing the game like someone possessed, suddenly kicked back his chair and stood up as if struck by lightning.
“It doesn’t make sense. I really got it right. I really got them all right. Really.”
The scenes he’d seen and the game results were identical. If it had been one or two rounds, maybe not. But having swept through the casino to this extent, it couldn’t be coincidence.
What Son Yowan saw wasn’t something like a dream but the real future. This was inside some kind of ‘murder play.’
What did that mean?
“This isn’t the time.”
If he stayed still, the incident he saw would happen exactly the same.
“I need to run away. I need to get out quickly.”
But right now was before problems occurred in the scene he’d seen.
“It’s okay, it’s not too late yet.”
So he just needed to leave here.
The hardship he’d gone through to enter this place briefly crossed his mind, but whatever. He could do what he needed to do if he was alive, right? Even if it would take much longer!
So Son Yowan moved. He didn’t even have time to pack his things. He planned to leave Manghyang at full speed no matter what.
