Rich Bond I
Let's dive into the tale of a father and his son.
In this context, "rich" doesn't refer to a wealthy bourgeoisie but to the richness of familial bond between a father and son.
To truly grasp these two characters' story, I had to reluctantly go back to my fourth cycle.
At that point in my life, I was a walking embarrassnt. Those first five cycles were my "teen phase" of sorts.
Even now, after living through countless years, I cringed at mories from my first to fifth cycle.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, I only acquired my [Complete mory] ability in my fifth cycle. mories from before then were like blurry dreams.
What I'll describe is a mix of reconstruction and fiction.
"Help ..."
"It hurts, it hurts too much..."
The first thing that always ca to mind in those shadowy mories was the groaning of people.
Whether it was a "Gah!" or a "Grrr..." the sounds varied in volu, but the quieter they grew, the shorter their lives beca.
I walked with bells jingling, asking people:
"Do you want to escape hell?"
"Huh...?"
"Do you want peace forever?"
It might seem like sothing a cult preacher would say, but those were indeed my words.
Let offer a brief explanation.
First, I rarely spoke politely at this ti. So technically, it should have been written as, "Wanna escape this shitty hell?" and "Need peace?"
But writing that way would make my fingers curl into a black hole of embarrassnt. Please forgive .
Plus, my fourth-cycle mories were vague, so a bit of historical distortion is reasonable, right? Historical distortion is better than cramping fingers.
Second, I never intended to spread a cult.
Those questions were related to why I earned the moniker "Undertaker."
"Screw you! Get lost!"
"Isn't he the Undertaker?"
"Bah! What a bad on!"
Most people could still manage to survive. Though they claid they wanted to die, they held onto life. I'd then politely excuse myself.
But there were always those who had given up hope.
"Yes... I don't want to hurt anymore..."
The one bitten by monsters, the diseased, the grieving, the disillusioned, and those who realized peace would never return—these people agreed.
So I asked another question:
"My nickna is Undertaker."
"Yeah, I know..."
"That makes this easier. I can make people sleep forever in their dreams."
"......"
"If you agree, I can help you relive your happiest monts endlessly in a dream."
Ti Seal.
It was my unique ability that I hadn't yet revealed.
While I knew the convention of unveiling a protagonist's powers early, I remained silent because I had primarily used [Ti Seal] in my first six cycles.
After that, I rarely used it.
Mostly because I hated my own ability.
That's why I considered this episode a shaful part of my past.
"Alright, put in the dream now..."
"Before you agree, there's sothing you should know."
I spoke calmly.
"Once you're trapped in a dream by my power, everyone will forget you."
"What?"
"Your family, friends, and anyone you've t won't rember you while you dream. In this world, only I will rember you."
"......"
"You'll be happy in the dream, but you'll be completely forgotten. Do you still want to live in your dream?"
I didn't explain the full power of this forgetfulness, but it was strong.
Even if I regressed and started a new life, the [Ti Seal] remained intact.
It beca an exception to regression itself. Sohow, the sealed person would remain sealed, forgotten.
It was like they never existed.
"That's... too much..."
Most people hesitated here.
No matter how painful things were, the idea of being erased was unsettling. They often chose suicide instead.
"Whatever, it's fine."
But there were always those who had given up hope.
"Being erased from the world sounds comforting. What do I have to see in this fucked-up world? Please, just erase ."
This is where the "father" in today's story, forr pro football player Kim Joo-chul, ca in.
Retired.
That's how Kim Joo-chul referred to himself.
"I was a starter in the first league. I was a left back defender, you know? They were throwing money at !"
He inhaled the oxygen of past glories instead of the current reality.
While many longed for their forr jobs after the world fell apart, Kim Joo-chul clung particularly hard to his.
"Hey, kid. Wanna see my highlight reel?"
He went so far as to download his highlights onto his phone.
An ideal talent for today's era, where self-promotion is crucial.
In the six-minute reel, he dashed across the field in a red uniform like a banner. He was a defender, so goals were rare, but the crowd's cheers rang out vividly through the screen with every play.
"Got an offer from Japan. Even sent agents from the Netherlands to scout . People underestimate the Dutch league, but it's a big deal."
He effortlessly switched between formal and informal speech like dribbling a football ball.
"Damn, I should have gone abroad instead of being loyal to my club. Should've just ditched everything for romance. I wasted my life."
Kim Joo-chul's phone often ran out of battery because he couldn't stop bragging about his highlights.
Unlike others, he didn't try to contact the outside world with his phone. For him, the phone only served as a storage for his highlights.
"A defender is crucial in modern football..."
"Mister! Stop talking and hurry up!"
"Oh, jeez. Kids cussing out again. You remind of my son."
Kim Joo-chul grinned and stood up.
"Let's go, you old retired man."
Despite his grand words, his body barely managed to move forward.
Kim Joo-chul's left leg limped constantly.
A world overrun by monsters wasn't kind to humanity, much less a cripple.
Even those who ran the fastest couldn't guarantee their survival, so Kim Joo-chul was always treated like leftovers.
It didn't matter that he had been a well-known football player back in the day. If not a national World Cup player, most people wouldn't recognize football players' nas.
"Being an ex-athlete ans shit."
He chuckled.
Maybe his constant self-promotion was a way to raise his value.
But the survivors remained cold. If he had been elderly or infirm, they might have shown pity, but no one cared for a seemingly fit middle-aged man. He struggled in food distribution, night watches, and other chores.
"Well, that's how life is."
Kim Joo-chul wasn't bitter. Not because he was exceptionally kind, but because he was used to being treated this way.
"I have a son. He should be about your age. Or younger?"
"You must not be close to him."
"Don't even talk about it. He ran away with his mom ten years ago."
Kim Joo-chul smirked.
"We got along once. But after so punk shattered my left leg on the field, everything fell apart. Funny enough, it turned out my knee joint was linked to my family's harmony."
"......"
"Well, I'm the asshole, but cut so slack. A promising player was forced to retire out of nowhere at age 26. You think I'd be okay ntally? My left leg was my damn livelihood."
His voice grew quieter.
He was one of the first people summoned to the transford Busan Station terminal with . Resting against a bookshelf in the maze-like station, he rambled.
"When I was in rehab, the jerk who broke my leg had the nerve to visit. I never knew crutches made such good weapons. Beat the crap out of him. But his parents had connections at the football association. The whole thing blew over, and I ended up with no place to go. This is Korea's problem. Assholes always seem to thrive."
"......"
"That bastard couldn't even play."
Though he seed honest, there were things Kim Joo-chul avoided discussing, like how he indulged in alcohol and gambling after being discharged from rehab.
How he practically lived in Macau and Gangwon, leaving his young son to be raised solely by his wife. How his wife died two years ago. How he wandered around a convenience store near a Gangwon casino just before being summoned to the Busan Station terminal. And how he had bought two packs of cigarettes, which he now stashed in socks.
I knew much about Kim Joo-chul because I was with him through the first four cycles.
"Damn, this world is so harsh..."
From the first to fourth cycles, he never made it out intact.
I didn't rember the exact circumstances of his death.
But as best as I could recall, in my first cycle, he tripped in the transford Busan Station and got eaten by a monster from his feet up.
In the second, I died first, but his condition must have worsened. In the third, he likely died from blood loss after covering a glass door with his body to protect others and losing an arm.
Finally, in my fourth cycle.
"Life's a fucking ss..."
Kim Joo-chul and I successfully escaped Busan Station, but shortly after, a hound-like monster bit off his left leg.
Though he passed out instantly, I managed to stop the bleeding and keep him conscious. Once awake, he panted heavily and muttered.
"I dragged this crippled leg around my whole life, but now that it's gone, I feel relieved."
"......"
"Young man, there's a football stadium nearby. Could we stop by there for a bit?"
I carried Kim Joo-chul to what would likely be his final destination in this life.
With one leg gone, his weight was quite light. As he lay on my back, he drifted in and out of consciousness.
"Ahh..."
Carefully, I set him down in the stadium's stands.
The stadium had been partly destroyed, likely due to monsters rampaging through. Debris was scattered across the field and the seats.
"Why does it look so wide now? It used to be much narrower. It was narrower..."
For a while, Kim Joo-chul mumbled, "Wide, so wide."
"Mr. Undertaker."
His face was pale as he spoke. It was the first and last ti he addressed as "mister," though I was much younger than him.
"Thank you. Thank you so much, but that's enough now. I'm content..."
I understood entirely what he wanted to say.
I took a Silver bell from my pocket and placed it around my wrist. It was my ritual.
"Are you sure? As you know, once you fall under my ability, you'll be forgotten by everyone."
"Forgotten? I don't care. To disappear from this world is comforting. What reason do I have to stay in this fucked-up place? Please, just erase from the world."
Kim Joo-chul smiled faintly.
"I'm tired now."
"......"
"Oh, right. In that dream or whatever, will I be able to realize that I'm dreaming? I an..."
"You won't."
I shook my head.
"The person will simply repeat their happiest day forever, without realizing it's repeating."
"That's a relief. If you rember everything, it would be torture, right? Even the happiest mont would beco tedious after repeating it... That's good. Do I just close my eyes?"
"Yes."
"Thank you, doc. Really."
In many ways, Kim Joo-chul was an ordinary man.
There was no particular reason to rember him out of all the people I'd laid to rest.
Even so, I rembered Kim Joo-chul for a long ti because of his last words.
"Kim Si-eun, Kim Si-eun. My son... Born November 11. My son's na is Si-eun."
Most people who drifted into dreams asked to rember them, but Kim Joo-chul muttered his son's na until the end.
"My son."
Jingle.
The bell rang as I activated my ability.
That was how Kim Joo-chul said goodbye on my tiline.
It took many long years before I finally t the heir to his last words.
Footnotes:
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