"Gangcheol! Come eat! You said you’re meeting the agent today, right? You’ll be late!"
His mother’s voice from beyond the bedroom door shattered his thoughts.
It was not the weary, aged voice from his previous life, but a lively, youthful one.
Gangcheol took a short, deep breath at his reflection in the mirror.
"Whoo. Good. Calm down."
He lowered the hand that had been tugging at his cheek and opened the wardrobe.
He took out his favorite blue tracksuit and put it on. The design was tacky, but in this era, it was the latest trend.
He looked in the mirror once more and muttered as if hypnotizing himself.
'Ma Gangcheol. Get a grip. You’re thirty-five. You’re not a kid. Don’t get swept up in your emotions.'
He opened the door and went out to the living room.
His young mother was setting the table. The savory smell of soybean paste stew stung his nose.
He wanted to run over and hug her right away, but he held himself back.
Food wasn’t the issue right now. The hour of fate was approaching.
"Mom, I’ll go first. I can’t be late for the appointment, so I’m going to warm up on the way."
"Oh my, you should eat before you go! At least have one spoonful!"
"I’ll buy you something delicious when I get back. Something really delicious! I’ll let you cut into steak later!"
Gangcheol sat by the front door and tightened the laces of his sneakers.
His movements were solemn, like a general heading out to the battlefield.
"I’ll be back!"
Watching her son’s back as he burst out the front door, his mother tilted her head.
"Why is he so serious today? Like he’s going off to war..."
Out on the street, Gangcheol drew in a deep breath.
The air of 2013 filled his lungs. Even the smell of exhaust was so unfamiliar and nostalgic that it felt sweet.
The streets were full of life.
Passing schoolgirls wore wide-legged pants and giggled, and in front of a cell phone store, Amazing Girls’ “I’m So Dazzling” was blaring loudly. Even the flyer stuck to the window that read [Latest Flip Phone Free] felt welcome.
And how cheap prices were. A roll of gimbap for a thousand won, bus fare only a few hundred won.
Everything was exactly as he remembered—the best era to be alive.
Gangcheol felt around in his pocket. He felt the solid grip of a heavy flip phone.
He took out the phone and checked the date and time once more.
[2013. 05. 12. PM 1:30]
"I still have thirty minutes."
The hotel where they were meeting was three subway stops away.
Plenty of time. If he ran, he could get there in ten minutes.
Gangcheol adjusted his bag on his shoulder. Inside were his passport and an invitation from Real Madrid’s youth team. It was not just a scrap of paper. It was the only lifeline that could sever the sickening cycle of poverty and defeat.
'This time will be different. This time, it’s real.'
He began to walk.
His steps were as light as feathers.
In his previous life, the thirty-five-year-old Ma Gangcheol would have had fluid swelling in his knees after only five minutes of walking, forcing him to limp. On rainy days, he couldn’t even sleep without painkillers.
But what about now?
The springiness in the soles of his feet as they touched the paving blocks, the taut tension in his calf muscles.
Every breath made his heart pump powerfully, filling his whole body with vitality.
"Haha..."
A wry laugh slipped out without him realizing.
Had being healthy always been such a happy thing?
He hummed under his breath. People passing by looked at him, but he didn’t care. Right now, he felt as if he had the whole world.
But that happiness did not last long.
A familiar road. Familiar buildings.
And in the distance, the traffic light at the intersection.
His heart began to beat faster and faster. Thump, thump, thump—it struck his ribs like an ominous drumbeat.
The crossroads of fate.
The “devil’s crosswalk” that had split his life into heaven and hell was drawing near before his eyes.
'Calm down. You’re thirty-five. You’re an adult who’s been through everything life can throw at you.'
Gangcheol swallowed dryly.
Cold sweat seeped into his palms.
He repeated it to himself as if casting a spell.
'All I have to do is pass by. Nothing will happen. I just have to go my own way.'
If he crossed the crosswalk ahead, he would reach the subway station.
The moment he passed through the ticket gate, his future would change.
The blue grass of Spain. The roar of the Bernabéu. A salary in the tens of billions. A life of swaggering around in a Benz.
And above all, a future where he could say loudly to his mother, who had suffered washing dishes in restaurants, “Mom, you don’t have to work anymore.”
'I can do it. Just close my eyes and pass by. In this life, I’m only thinking about myself.'
Gangcheol pulled his cap down low. He fixed his gaze on the ground.
He resolved to look only forward, like a racehorse. He would not look around. No matter who was in danger, no matter what happened, it was none of his business. He had neither heard nor seen anything.
He arrived in front of the crosswalk.
The traffic light was red.
Normally, the wait wouldn’t even be a minute, but it felt like an eternity.
Gangcheol anxiously tapped his foot, waiting only for the light to change.
That was when it happened.
Piercing through the peaceful noise of the road came the clear laughter of children.
"Ahaha! Ppoppy, come with me! Wait!"
Gangcheol’s shoulders flinched.
His heart dropped.
It was the voice that had been preserved in his memory, the voice he had heard in thousands of nightmares.
'Don’t look. Don’t turn your head.'
Reason commanded him so, but human instinct could not be defied.
As if drawn by a magnet, his gaze turned.
The sidewalk across the street.
A little girl, about five years old and wearing a pink dress, was playing with a puppy.
An innocent expression. Pure eyes untouched by the dirt of the world.
And in the child’s hand was a silver helium balloon.
'No... please...'
Gangcheol screamed inwardly.
Please. Don’t let go. Hold on tight. Please don’t let go of that string.
But fate cruelly repeated the exact same script. It was as if God had designed this moment to put him through a trial.
The moment the child waved her hand, the balloon slipped free.
Caught by the wind, the balloon floated toward the road.
"Woof, woof!"
The foolish puppy Ppoppy chased after the balloon and dashed into the street.
"No, Ppoppy! It’s dangerous!"
The child stepped onto the road without hesitation to catch the puppy.
The light was red. Cars were speeding by.
At the same time, from far away, a deafening roar rang out.
Baaaaaang—!
A twenty-five-ton dump truck, ignoring the left-turn signal and speeding wildly.
That massive lump of metal charged toward the child like a monster with its jaws open.
Screeeeeech—!
The tires screamed as they scraped against the asphalt, but the law of inertia was merciless. The truck would not stop.
Time seemed to freeze.
He could not hear the screams of the people around him.
It felt as if only the child, the truck, and he himself had been left in the world.
In Gangcheol’s mind, two futures were weighed against each other.
[Choice A]
Stand still. Look away.
The child would die or be injured. It might become lifelong trauma. She might appear in his dreams.
But he would live. His legs would be fine, and he would sign the contract as planned and become the “Emperor of Soccer.”
The reason he had returned. The life he had desperately wanted. The success he had yearned for while dying so miserably was right in front of him.
[Choice B]
Jump in. Save her.
The child would live. But he?
His legs would be crushed all over again. He would have to endure that hellish rehabilitation, poverty, and contempt all over again.
No, this time he might die. The truck seemed to be moving faster than in his previous life.
The answer was obvious.
Unless he was insane, there was no way he would choose B. No matter who looked at it, A was the correct answer.
Gangcheol squeezed his eyes shut.
Turn your head. Don’t look. You’re thirty-five. You have to be cold. My legs are worth more than that child’s life. The future of Korean soccer is at stake! I have the right to be happy too!
And I already saved her once, didn’t I? That should be enough...
Reason was screaming that.
His head had coldly completed the calculation.
He planted the soles of his feet firmly on the ground. He ordered his muscles never to move.
But.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
His heart began beating on its own.
That damned instinct he had carried since the age of five, throwing his body toward the ball.
That reckless courage that made him head an incoming ball instead of dodging it.
And more than anything, that foolishly kind nature that could not ignore a life fading before his eyes.
That was the essence of the human being called “Ma Gangcheol.”
"Damn it... damn it! Goddamn it!"
A curse burst from Gangcheol’s mouth.
His legs had already escaped his brain’s control.
Spain? The Ballon d’Or? A ten-billion-won salary?
What good is any of that when that kid is about to get crushed to death! A person is dying!
Tadadak—!
Gangcheol’s body shot forward like an arrow.
The explosive speed of his prime. In an instant, he crossed the road.
The truck’s massive grille was right in front of his nose. The driver’s terror-stricken expression appeared as if in slow motion.
'I’m too late...!'
He couldn’t dodge. If he pushed the child out of the way, he would be hit.
It was an angle of certain death.
Gangcheol gritted his teeth. Fear wrapped around his entire body, but he did not stop.
He threw himself forward, pulled the child into his arms, and rolled with all his might toward the sidewalk.
"Move!"
He shoved the child away.
But the truck was too fast, and his legs were still on the road.
Kwaaaang—!
With a terrible crash, the world flipped upside down.
The sensation of heavy tires crushing his legs. The sound of bones being ground to powder.
"Guaaagh!"
Pain more horrific than in his previous life, as if tearing his soul apart, burned through his brain.
Gangcheol rolled across the asphalt.
He knew without checking his legs.
They were shattered. Again. No, this time, it was even worse.
"Hahh... hahh..."
The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
Through his blurring vision, he saw the child on the sidewalk, sobbing loudly.
She was fine. Not a single hair had been hurt. The balloon had flown into the sky, but the child remained on the ground.
Seeing that, a strange sense of relief burst out instead of a curse.
'Ha... you stupid bastard... In the end, it’s this all over again... I knew it.'
He was so pathetic he couldn’t stand it.
He had sworn that if he were born again, he would live selfishly.
Yet he hadn’t even lasted an hour before throwing that vow away like an old shoe.
Genius, my ass. Maybe I was just born to be a pushover my whole life.
'Still... as long as she didn’t die, that’s enough. Rather than watch a kid die and have nightmares for the rest of my life... this is easier on my heart...'
His consciousness drifted farther and farther away.
A life ruined all over again. Should he just give up on this life?
I’m sorry, Mom. Your unfilial son is crying again. Spain... I guess I’ll have to go in my next life.
Just as Gangcheol was about to close his eyes in resignation.
[Ding—!]
Along with a cheerful notification sound, a clear, transparent blue window he had never seen before appeared before his eyes.
[Condition fulfilled: You gave up your own future to save another.]
[Hidden Quest “Proof of a Hero” completed.]
Gangcheol stared into the air with fading eyes.
Was it a hallucination? Or a message from the grim reaper?
"What... is... this..."
He squeezed out the last of his strength and muttered.
Then his head dropped limply, and he sank into deep darkness.