# Chapter 36
──────
## Father and Son Ⅰ
### Shin Noah
**1.**
Let me spin a tale about a certain father and son today.
Here, "father and son" (父子) doesn't refer to some wealthy bourgeois, but quite literally a father and his child.
To address these two people—I personally really dislike them, but I have no choice but to first trace back to the 4th cycle.
During this period, I was a cluster of black history itself. Perhaps I could call it the "chuunibyou" phase of my long regressing life.
Even now, having lived through enough years that counting my age has become meaningless, whenever I recall the times from the 1st to the 5th cycle, a cringe button would be pressed of its own accord.
Whether fortunately or unfortunately, I only acquired [Complete Memory Ability] in the 5th cycle. As I mentioned once before, memories older than the 5th cycle remained in my consciousness as faint as dreams.
Therefore, the past I am about to describe from here on is nothing more than reconstruction or fabrication.
"Please save me…."
"It hurts. It hurts so much…."
Within memories like faint shadows, the first thing that always came to mind were people's groans.
Whether "Gack!" or "Gack!" or "Gack…," the decibel levels varied, but they shared the commonality that the quieter the sound, the shorter the lifeline remained.
Each time, I would walk along, scattering jingling, jingling bell sounds. I would stop my steps and question people.
"Do you wish to escape from hell?"
"Excuse me…?"
"Do you wish to become eternally at peace?"
You might wonder why I'm suddenly spouting lines like some cult evangelist, but those were indeed words I spoke.
Here I need to make a brief excuse.
First, in reality, during this period, I rarely used polite speech. So if I were to describe it strictly accurately, I should have written 'Do you want to escape from pain?' 'Do you want to become eternally peaceful?'
But if I wrote it that way, my fingers would curl up so much they'd create a black hole on their own. Please forgive me.
Originally, memories of the 4th cycle were ambiguous and vague. So isn't this level of historical distortion understandable? Historical distortion is better than finger distortion, after all.
Second, I never had the intention of spreading some pseudo-religious faith.
Rather, questions like the above were fundamentally related to the reason I came to possess the epithet of "Undertaker."
"What kind of bullshit is that? Get lost!"
"Isn't he an undertaker? That…."
"Weird cultist. Ugh, what bad luck!"
Most people still found life worth living. Even while screaming that they wanted to die, they still clung tightly to their will to live. Then I too would say "My apologies" and withdraw.
But there were always those who had abandoned hope.
"Yes…. I don't want to hurt anymore…."
One whose limbs had been bitten off by a monster's teeth. One who had fallen ill. One who had lost family. One who had realized that all humans were beasts and left nothing but contempt for the world. One who grasped that no matter what happened from now on, the same peace as before would never return. Or perhaps all of the above.
These people nodded in agreement to my question.
Then I too would ask again.
"My epithet is Undertaker."
"Yes, I know…."
"Then that speeds things up. I have the ability to put people into an eternal sleep within a dream."
"…."
"If you consent, I can help you dream forever, repeating only the happiest moment of your life."
Time Sealing.
It was an ability of mine that I hadn't revealed even while spinning tales until now.
I didn't not know the grammar of novels that the protagonist's unique ability should be presented as early as possible. But the reason I maintained silence until now was because the use of [Time Sealing] was concentrated in the 1st to 6th cycles in the first place.
After that, I really barely used [Time Sealing] at all.
More than anything, I myself disliked my ability.
This was the reason I dismissed this episode as black history.
"Alright, put me into a dream right now…."
"Before you consent to me, there are things you must first know."
I spoke calmly.
"Due to my ability, once you fall into the dream, everyone else loses all memories of you."
"What?"
"No one will remember you. Not your family, not your friends, not even those who merely passed by you. While you are dreaming, no one in this world except me will be able to recall you."
"…."
"You will be perfectly forgotten by everyone in exchange for tasting a happy moment. How about it. Do you still want to live in a dream?"
I didn't bother explaining this to people, but this forgetting was more powerful than one might think.
Because even if I regressed and started a new life, [Time Sealing] was not released.
It became an exception to regression, so to speak. I don't know what the principle was, but the sealed human remained sealed forever, in other words, forgotten by the world.
They became someone who 'never existed' from the very beginning.
"That's, too…."
Again, most people hesitated at this point.
No matter how painful it was to want to die, there was something unsettling and ominous about an ending that was no different from having one's very existence deleted. They would often choose suicide instead.
"Oh my, I don't care. I don't care at all."
But there were always those who had abandoned hope.
"Disappearing completely from the world rather puts my mind at ease. What business would I have in this fucked up world like this. Please, wipe me from the world."
The one corresponding to the father in the father and son I'll talk about today.
Former professional soccer player Kim Ju-cheol was one such person.
**2.**
Has-been.
That was the word Kim Ju-cheol used to refer to himself.
"I was someone who once made it to a starting position in the 1st division league. A left fullback, I'm telling you, a left fullback. I was worth my weight in gold, you know?"
He didn't take in the oxygen needed to live today from the air of reality, but breathed only within the glory of the past.
Since the world had turned out this way, there were few who didn't miss their former occupations, but Kim Ju-cheol had an especially strong tendency in that regard.
"Young man. Want to see my awesome mad movie?"
To give you an idea, he had directly downloaded his own mad movie onto his smartphone and carried it around.
He couldn't not be called talent optimized for this era where self-PR had become essential.
In the six-minute edited video, Kim Ju-cheol indeed moved across the field in all directions. A red uniform fluttered like a flag. Since he was a defender rather than a striker, scenes of him scoring goals were rare, but the sound of the crowd cheering at each of his plays rang out vividly beyond the phone.
"Offers came from Japan too. In the Netherlands, they even sent an agent to observe me. Ordinary people might dismiss the Dutch league, but it's actually an incredible place, you know?"
He crossed the boundary between casual and formal speech as freely as if dribbling a soccer ball.
"Ah, seriously. Back then I should've just flown abroad out of loyalty to the club that raised me. I should've just cut ties and run. It wasn't romance, I just wasted my life."
Because Kim Ju-cheol went around showing off his mad movie to others so much, his smartphone quickly ran out of battery.
Unlike other people, Kim Ju-cheol didn't try to contact the outside world with his phone. The meaning of his phone's existence was nothing more than a mad movie storage device.
"If you ask how important a fullback is in modern soccer…."
"Mister! Stop talking and walk faster!"
"Oh dear, the young ones are cursing again. They remind me exactly of my son."
Kim Ju-cheol laughed with good humor and stood up.
"Heave-ho. Move aside. The has-been is coming through."
Despite his grand command, his body didn't move forward well.
Kim Ju-cheol's left leg kept limping endlessly.
A world where monsters ran rampant was by no means favorable to humanity. There was no need to even mention a cripple.
In a situation where survival wasn't guaranteed even for those who moved faster than anyone, Kim Ju-cheol was always treated like cold leftover rice.
The fact that he was once a recognized soccer player in Korea long ago wasn't important at all. Originally, unless they were World Cup national team level, ordinary people rarely knew soccer players' names.
"Being an athlete really means jack shit."
Kim Ju-cheol chuckled.
Perhaps his endless self-PR was an attempt to raise his value even a little.
But the survivor group's reaction was cold. If he had been elderly, that would be one thing, but no survivor purposely made accommodations for a middle-aged man who looked fairly muscular and normal on the outside. Rations. Night watch. In all aspects, Kim Ju-cheol had no choice but to struggle.
"Well, that's how the world works."
Kim Ju-cheol didn't particularly take offense at that either. It wasn't because his nature was unusually generous, but rather he seemed accustomed to people treating him this way.
"I have a son too. He must be about your age. Or is he? A bit younger?"
"It seems you're not on good terms with your son."
"Oh my, don't even mention it. He already ran away from home with his mother 10 years ago."
Kim Ju-cheal grinned.
"We used to be close in the past. But then some bastard wrecked my left leg on the field and everything fell apart. This is really something to make even ghosts cry, but it turns out my knee joint was linked to family harmony."
"…."
"Well, I'm the bad one. A real bastard. But please understand a little, young man. I was a player with talk of advancing overseas, and then I suddenly had to retire. I was 26 then, I think. Huh? A 26-year-old kid suddenly has his life stumbling around. You think his mind would be sound? My left foot was my fucking livelihood. It was my entire fortune."
Kim Ju-cheol's voice flowed low.
He was one of the first people summoned to the Busan Station waiting room along with me. A station with distorted space that had become like a labyrinth. There, leaning against a bookstore shelf, Kim Ju-cheol rambled on.
"I was hospitalized for rehabilitation, and the bastard who made me a cripple came to visit me, can you believe it. God, that's when I first learned crutches could be such excellent weapons. I beat the shit out of him. But that guy's parents had connections in the football association. It got swept under the rug at the time, but later I found out I had no place left. That's the problem with South Korea. If you watch, the perpetrator bastards always end up rising in the world, you know?"
"…."
"That guy couldn't even kick a ball properly either."
Kim Ju-cheol seemed honest about everything, but there were things he was reluctant to talk about. For instance, after being discharged from the rehabilitation hospital, he indulged in alcohol and gambling.
That he practically lived in Macau or Gangwon Province. That his wife had to raise their still very young son alone. That his wife died two years ago. That he had been wandering around a convenience store near a casino in Gangwon Province right before being summoned to the Busan Station waiting room. That thanks to buying two packs of cigarettes back then, he still had cigarette butts loosely hidden in his socks.
I was with him from the 1st to the 4th cycle. That's how I came to know much of Kim Ju-cheol's personal history.
"Phew, why is the world so harsh…."
From the 1st to the 4th cycle, Kim Ju-cheol never survived intact even once.
I didn't remember exactly how he died.
But describing it as I remember, in the 1st cycle, Kim Ju-cheol ran through the long passageway of Busan Station turned labyrinth, fell, and was chewed up bit by bit from his feet by a monster.
In the 2nd cycle, I died first, but he probably wasn't physically whole. In the 3rd cycle, he likely died from excessive bleeding. He probably lost an arm to a monster while using his body to block a glass door so others could escape.
Finally, the 4th cycle.
"Damn. Life really is fucked up…."
Kim Ju-cheol succeeded in escaping Busan Station with me. However, not long after, his left leg was chewed off and swallowed whole by a hound-like monster.
Kim Ju-cheol momentarily passed out, but thanks to my immediate hemostasis and treatment, he somehow regained consciousness. As soon as he came to, Kim Ju-cheol gasped for breath and muttered.
"I dragged this cripple leg around my whole life. Now that it's gone, I actually feel relieved. Relieved."
"…."
"Young man. There's a soccer stadium nearby, right? I'm sorry, but could we stop by there for a moment?"
To that place that would probably become his life's final stop, I carried Kim Ju-cheol on my back.
The weight of a person who had lost a leg was very light. On my back, Kim Ju-cheol repeatedly lost and regained consciousness.
"Hah…."
I carefully set Kim Ju-cheol down in the stadium's spectator seats.
Perhaps monsters had already rampaged through; the stadium was half-destroyed. Debris from the building was scattered chaotically across the field and spectator seats.
"No, why does that look so wide over there? It used to be narrower. It was narrower."
Kim Ju-cheol mumbled "wide, it's wide" for a while.
"Mr. Undertaker."
He spoke with a pale face. Using the title of 'mister' for someone much younger than himself was a first and last for him.
"Thank you. Really, thank you. But that's enough now. I have no regrets…."
I fully understood what the man before me was trying to say.
I took out a silver bell from my pocket and fastened it to my wrist. It was my own ritual.
"Will you be alright? As you know, if you're affected by my ability, you'll be forgotten by everyone."
"Forgotten? Oh my, I don't care. I don't care at all. Disappearing completely from the world rather puts my mind at ease. What business would I have in this fucked up world like this. Please, wipe me from the world."
Kim Ju-cheol smiled faintly.
"I'm tired now."
"…."
"Ah, right. If I enter that dream or whatever, will I become aware that I'm dreaming? I mean…."
"You won't be able to perceive it."
I shook my head.
"The person involved simply repeats an eternally happy day forever, without even noticing that this is being repeated."
"Then that's a relief. If the memory remained, wouldn't that be painful too? No matter how happy the moment, if you keep repeating it, it'd get tedious…. That's a relief. So, do I just close my eyes?"
"Yes."
"Thank you. Mister. Really."
In many ways, Kim Ju-cheol was an ordinary person.
Among the people I performed funerals for, there was absolutely no reason I should particularly remember Kim Ju-cheol.
Nevertheless, I remembered Kim Ju-cheol for a long time. Because of the dying words he left behind.
"Kim Shi-eun. It's Kim Shi-eun. My son…. Born on November 11th. My son's name is Shi-eun."
Usually, people who departed into dreams asked me to remember them. But Kim Ju-cheol muttered his son's name until the very end.
"My son."
Jingle.
I activated my ability along with the sound of the bell.
Thus Kim Ju-cheol bade farewell from my timeline.
It was after a very long time had passed that I met the heir to the dying words that man had left behind.