Chapter 29
Kim Guhyeon. Age: 46. Affiliation: Combat Division. A former A-rank Hunter, he started as the Security Director’s secretary ten years ago and now holds the position of Chief Security Officer.
I stared at the useless details about Kim Guhyeon’s personal life and the few photos attached, then asked Han Jaemin, “Has he been working with my father for about ten years?”
“On paper, yeah.”
The last page was filled with newspaper clippings—my father and Kim Guhyeon at public events, side by side. He looked like any other affable middle-aged man, but something about him still set my teeth on edge.
Twice.
Out of the ten lives I’d lived, I’d encountered him twice. And both times, he had killed me. If I went by age alone, that incident had happened exactly ten years ago. Since I hadn’t personally lived through my eighth year in this life, the uncertainty gnawed at me. The fact that my life was unfolding like a predictable novel meant nothing beyond the script was truly mine. The years before the save point belonged to the real Yu Chanhee, not me. Had the real Yu Chanhee ever met Kim Guhyeon? If so, how had he handled it?
“Your food’s getting cold.”
Han Jaemin pouted, pretending to be offended that I was more focused on the documents than the meal. I knew he wasn’t actually upset, but he was eerily good at faking it.
“I brought you to this secret spot just for you, and you’re not even appreciating it.”
“What kind of ‘secret spot’ is a gukbap place?”
“There’s nowhere as amazing as this.”
Han Jaemin gestured casually around the old, worn-down restaurant. With his messy hair and casual clothes, he looked more like an ordinary college student than the leader of an anti-government faction. After scanning the place for a moment, he leaned back, stretching his arm behind him, and fixed his gaze on me.
“Like it? The info?”
“…It’s fine.”
“Did you get what you wanted?”
……
“What I mean is—”
……
“If I keep bringing you stuff like this, could you do what we want?”
His tone was casual, but the words were sharp. Ironically, my certainty that I wouldn’t live much longer made it easy to give him the answer he wanted.
Right on cue, a group of middle-aged men burst into the restaurant. They smelled faintly of sweat, as if they’d just finished hiking, and piled their gear in a corner. I slipped the documents Han Jaemin had given me into my bag and picked up my chopsticks. The cold broth was terrible, even setting aside the fact that it had gone cold. I scowled at Han Jaemin.
“Is this actually supposed to be good?”
“Mhm.”
I checked his bowl to see if he was serious. It was completely empty. Shaking my head at the absurdity, I dropped my spoon with a clack.
“You’re not normal anywhere, are you?”
“Coming from you, that’s something.”
This time, I picked up my chopsticks and took a small bite of the side dish. The moment it touched my tongue, an overwhelming saltiness hit me like I’d dipped my mouth in soy sauce.
“Ugh—”
I gagged and reached for water. Han Jaemin pretended to look hurt.
“You’re gonna hurt his feelings.”
“What am I supposed to do? It’s disgusting.”
“Uncle worked hard cooking this from the morning.”
Uncle?
I jerked my head up and looked toward the kitchen. A familiar silhouette—wearing a mask and sunglasses—was watching us. It was the same man I’d seen with Han Jaemin in that abandoned building.
“Is this a joke?”
“Nope.”
“Then why is he—”
“You catch on quick.”
Han Jaemin’s expression turned serious.
……
“Our company’s funding comes from here. Selling gukbap.”
Han Jaemin chuckled, tapping his bowl with his spoon.
“We built the company from selling five hundred bowls of this.”
I finally lost my patience and threw my spoon at him.
“Look at that temper.”
“I’m going home.”
“Uncle won’t let you leave until you finish.”
Ignoring him, I grabbed my bag and stood up—just as one of the men from the hiking group rose first. He seemed to be their leader.
“Alright, everyone, I’m sorry for taking up this table when we should be somewhere better, but I’ve got something to say.”
Han Jaemin, now resting his chin on his hand, watched them with interest.
“This year’s going to be busy.”
Han Jaemin tapped my arm lightly. When I glanced at him, he subtly pointed at the men, one by one, whispering as if sharing a secret.
“Those guys…”
His expression was cryptic, as if he were about to reveal something important.
“Who do you think they are?”
“How should I know?”
“Don’t you watch the news?”
I studied his face, trying to figure out if he was serious.
“Well, they’re all people our Chairman brought in.”
By “Chairman,” he meant the head of the Hansung Foundation, the financial backbone of the Hansung Guild—the parent organization of <Crush>. The place I’d visited with Han Jaemin not long ago was one of the largest subsidiaries of the Hansung Group.
Han Jaemin grinned and rested his chin on his hand again. Only then did I start examining the faces of the men sitting nearby. Some of them looked familiar—people I’d seen in news articles. I’d only ever thought of “government reformists” as Han Jaemin and his immediate circle, but now, the scope of this reality was starting to feel much larger. It was as if the system running this fake world was mocking me, expanding day by day while I was trapped in my miserable relationship with Yu Hyunjae.
If I tried to dip my toes in and then pull back—
Han Jaemin stood up and walked toward the men, who welcomed him as if they’d known he was there all along. Our eyes met as he took a drink someone offered him. It wasn’t just an introduction—it felt like he was using them to pressure me.
I realized how foolish I’d been, thinking I could slip away with some flimsy excuse.
***
My father sat in his custom-made leather chair, reading the newspaper. I walked slowly across the living room toward him. The only sound was the friction of the rug and my indoor slippers against the floor. He didn’t look up until he’d finished the page, then removed his reading glasses and finally turned to me.
“The Combat Bureau tour seems to have given you a lot to think about.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Learning from Chief Kim isn’t a bad idea.”
“I heard you’ve already been told. Are you giving me permission?”
“Do I need to? It’s your decision.”
I suppressed a bitter laugh and cleared my throat.
“Should I contact Chief Kim directly?”
“Before that—”
My father slowly folded the newspaper and placed it on the table. Even that small action felt like slow motion. After setting his glasses down as well, he spoke again.
“I’m curious what you’re thinking.”
“…Thinking.”
I tried to force out an answer, but no sound came.
Instead, the background blurred into a familiar monochrome, and with a crackling effect, text appeared:
***
[Yu Chanhee lifted his head, determined. Yu Gyuhwan saw, for a moment, his own face in his only remaining son. Without hesitation, Yu Chanhee spoke like someone with nothing to fear:]
“I will definitely become the No. 1 Ranker.”
Yu Gyuhwan’s eyes flashed. It was the same declaration his other son—the one he could no longer see—had once made, standing firmly before him.
“Do you think that’s possible?”
“It’s impossible.”
“Impossible?”
“Yes.”
Yu Chanhee’s gaze drifted away from the center, fixing on an indeterminate point in the void.
“Then what do you plan to do?”
The aggressive, provocative question made Yu Chanhee look back at his father.
“Eliminate them.”
……
“Obstacles.”
……
“I’ll do it myself.”
***
I read the excerpt and fell silent. My father was still watching me. I instinctively knew that if I hesitated, something would go wrong. And I knew there was only one answer I could give.
Taking a breath, I replied slowly, my voice flowing naturally, as if it had never been blocked.
“…I will definitely become the No. 1 Ranker.”
“Do you think that’s possible?”
I stared at the ashen background and answered like a parrot.
“It’s impossible.”
“Impossible?”
“Yes.”
“Then what do you plan to do?”
In this gray world, I looked at my father—or rather, the character playing his role in this novel—and responded.
“Eliminate them.”
He raised one eyebrow, demanding the next answer. I obliged.
“The obstacles. I’ll do it myself.”
