2
Looking back, I wonder if the scales of my life were ever in perfect balance.
I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth like others. But I wasn't a child of poverty either. Even if not a silver spoon, I was born with a spoon sturdy enough to eat my fill.
Of course, I couldn't enjoy that spoon entirely for three years, as I ended up sharing it with my sister who was three years younger.
By others' standards—that is, by the standards of somewhat greedy people—our family was by no means well-off. But that was always an outsider's perspective.
A father who always believed in me silently. A mother who was incredibly kind. And a sister who, though a bit immature, always took my side at important moments. Their presence was more than enough to make me forget any material lack... no, looking back now, they were a family far too good for me.
If I had been satisfied with what I had, our family would have always been happy until we grew old and died.
But my desires, blind with ambition to be something more when I didn't even know my place, ruined everything.
On the very day I turned twenty.
It all started with the dream I had that day.
Having dreamed the dream that Awakeners supposedly dream, I went to take the Awakener examination on my own, thinking I'd surprise my family. And I received the lowest rank—F.
F-rank.
It's essentially just a title of Awakener; in reality, it's no different from being slightly healthier than a normal person who can use mana. But I couldn't even use the mana that even an F-rank could handle.
Because my mana value was so insignificant that it was impossible to even sense it.
This was hopeless. Becoming a Hunter who hunts monsters was out of the question, and I couldn't even apply for special occupations that only Awakeners could enter. It was right to neatly fold up the dream of being an Awakener.
But I couldn't do that.
Awakeners bloom one skill through their dream of awakening, or up to three if they're lucky. And I too received one skill through my dream.
A skill with unknown name and unknown usage.
And this became the second spark.
A skill whose existence is recognized in the mind but whose method of use is unknown—society calls this an Awakening Skill.
A skill that finally blooms like a flower in spring when certain conditions are met.
If normal skills are silver spoons, this Awakening Skill is beyond a gold spoon—it's a diamond spoon.
It was enough to make me delusional.
Though I started as a mere F-rank, I firmly believed without a doubt that if I could just bloom the skill, I could turn my life around.
'What a fucking idiot.'
I wasn't a three-year-old child—where on earth did that baseless confidence come from?
Just because you can see something doesn't mean you can grasp it all. That's life. But back then, I couldn't accept reality and was so blinded that I tried to grab an illusion I couldn't hold.
So, with my eyes clouded by greed, I declared independence from my family.
To ride the so-called bus, that is.
Among Awakeners, those who obtain combat-related skills and enter dungeons are called Hunters. And "riding the bus" refers to lower-ranked Awakeners delivering the final blow to monsters that higher-ranked Hunters have conveniently cooked up for them.
To ride this bus, I even took out loans from private moneylenders on top of my university tuition. Where did I get the collateral, you ask? If you go about two steps beyond the formal financial sector, they don't really require collateral.
So I desperately scraped together whatever money I could, riding buses here and there, and a significant change occurred in my stats. I rose from the bottom of F-rank to the top of F-rank.
Right. My stats went up, but I still couldn't escape being a mere F-rank.
That was because ranking up required clearing special dungeons that opened once every six months.
There was no way a guy who had done nothing but ride buses for a year could clear a dungeon on his own.
I remember that as the time when I gradually broke free from the illusion I couldn't grasp and faced the bone-chilling, cold reality head-on. Because that was when the moneylenders who hadn't been paid started moving in earnest.
As the debt grew and the moneylenders kept hounding me, naturally all the lies I had constructed were exposed, and my family found out everything.
The worst moment I never want to recall.
What exactly was a child worth.
My parents sold our only home.
My father sold his car, and my mother even gave up her wedding ring that she had cherished so dearly.
Stupid Baek Hye-young.
The girl who would normally fight back so fiercely—why did she have to go and empty out all the money she had saved up to live on her own.
Thanks to my family who gave up everything in an instant, the debt was paid.
In return, our family who had given up everything had to move to a remote area where there wasn't even a convenience store, requiring a 30-minute walk just to reach the local supermarket.
But that shouldn't have happened.
One day while working my early morning part-time job, a single text message came from my sister.
It was a message telling me absolutely not to come home.
That morning when I got off work.
The road leading home was blocked off by the military, Hunters, and reporters from various broadcasting stations.
An E-rank dungeon hidden in an abandoned building had caused an Outbreak.
It was a disaster that occurred at dawn, when everyone was asleep.
What happened after that was nothing special.
I lived like a wreck for a few months, then came to my senses and worked any job I could find to save money. And then, as if it were heaven's rebuke asking if I even deserved such happiness, I lost everything to a rental scam. Finally, I died with a head-sized hole in my chest, courtesy of a damned pleasure killer.
Right. I died.
But why can I still continue my thoughts?
Just as his hazy mind gradually became clear and Baek Woo-jin recognized a very significant and fundamental problem—
"My, I focused too much."
A heavy, aged voice of an old man flowed into his ears.
At that moment, his hollow insides filled up as if it were a lie.
Is this what it feels like to reclaim a lost body?
Starting from his chest, a burning pain spread out, and before long it reached even his cold hands and feet.
"Ugh..."
When he tried to move his body slightly, a groan naturally slipped out. It was a pain that made his brow furrow involuntarily. I've never been properly burned, but it must feel something like this.
"Haha, your body is weak but your spirit is strong."
At the old man's voice that came again, Baek Woo-jin, who had barely managed to sit up, put strength into his furrowed brow and lifted his closed eyelids.
"Nice to meet you."
A white-haired old man sitting on a dignified sofa greeted him with a benevolent smile.
"...Yes."
Returning the greeting, Baek Woo-jin surveyed his surroundings.
Light brown wallpaper and ceiling.
A light fixture of a shape he had never seen before in his life.
Slightly turning his head, there was a desk and chair, and beyond that a small window through which rough snowflakes were swirling past glass that looked thin at a glance.
'...I can't figure it out.'
For a place called hell, the atmosphere of where he was sitting was far too warm. And the sensations he could feel, though somewhat dull, were real.
But he couldn't definitively say it wasn't hell, either.
'You'd have to visit to know for sure.'
After all, hadn't the Grim Reapers in a recent drama worn neat suits and even used smartphones?
Baek Woo-jin's deliberation didn't last long.
"Excuse me, but could I ask you to explain the situation?"
He had realized that no matter how much he racked his brain alone, he couldn't come up with a proper answer. So he decided to seek the answer from the old man who seemed to hold the answer to his questions.
"Tsk tsk, that's not such a difficult thing."
Stroking his pure white beard, the old man laughed lightly.
"But you don't yet have the qualification to ask me questions."
The old man drew a clear line.
"How can I obtain that qualification?"
"A trade must always be fair."
For the first time since waking, he met the old man's eyes.
The incredibly clear and transparent blue eyes were the only part of the old man, who otherwise bore the marks of time, where no such traces could be found.
"You want to know about this place, so tell me what kind of person you are."
Was this truly a fair trade?
No.
Baek Woo-jin shook his head.
The trade the old man proposed was not fair at all.
He didn't want his regret-filled life to become someone's story to pass around.
Especially in this kind of situation, even more so.
Baek Woo-jin briefly looked at the old man who was leisurely waiting for an answer, then lowered his head. His chest was completely pierced through, and his clothes were a mess caked with blood.
The fact that he could still be alive in this state was surely the old man's doing sitting before him.
'This isn't going to work.'
They say you know your own body best.
He could tell that the sensations that had been vivid when he first sat up were gradually dulling. And this meant his body was dying.
If I'm going to die anyway, I might as well just die.
Open my mouth just to satisfy one curiosity? Not worth discussing.
"It seems it's not to your liking."
"Yes."
"Tsk tsk, that's understandable."
Even though he rejected the proposal, the old man only nodded as if understanding. He didn't show any displeasure whatsoever.
"Truth be told, there wasn't time for that anyway."
The old man stood up from his seat. And Baek Woo-jin could understand why the old man had said that.
'This is...'
His body, which had already been a mess, began to crumble away like grains of sand and get sucked into the ring on his left index finger.
It wasn't painful.
"Take good care of the ring. I doubt you can take it off even if you want to, but if the finger gets cut off, that's a different story."
"Wha—"
He tried to say something to the old man who was heading toward the desk as if he was done, but he couldn't. His mouth had just crumbled away.
The old man who sat down at the desk opened a book and spoke to Baek Woo-jin, who was left with only his eyes wide open.
"Let's at least exchange names next time. Young man."
With the old man's final words, Baek Woo-jin's vision went dark once more.