The Frame-Up
Shouts and frantic screams erupted from every direction. The Register world had always felt as vivid as reality itself, yet this time the intensity was on another level entirely.
It was the sharp bite of alcohol and the coppery stench of blood stabbing at his nostrils that did it. The scents were so overpowering that Park Su-hwan nearly believed he had truly stepped into a hospital.
Sniff, sniff.
He drew another careful breath. The smells were no illusion.
This is impossible…
Just as Su-hwan could never intervene in the death visions the Register showed him, the world itself had never been able to affect him in return. That was the rule he knew. Even under a blazing midday sun he felt no heat; even in a torrential downpour not a single thread of his clothes grew damp.
Yet right now every scrap of that familiar knowledge had been turned upside down. The sensation of solid ground under his feet was real. He truly felt as though he had walked into a hospital.
No way… It can’t be.
Swallowing dryly, Su-hwan reached out with careful fingers and pressed his palm against the wall. Cold, rough texture met his skin.
…!
At that exact moment a thunderous shout exploded from the nearby nurses’ station.
“How the hell does a nurse make a medication error?!”
A middle-aged woman was furiously cornering the protagonist of this vision—Seo Da-eun. Both women wore the same nurse’s uniform.
What’s going on?
Su-hwan tilted his head and hurried toward them.
“I-I didn’t do it,” Da-eun stammered, her whole body trembling, voice thin as a thread. She looked seconds away from bursting into tears.
“If it wasn’t you, then who was it?! The epinephrine was clearly already administered—why did you inject it again?!”
“Th-that was because the head nurse told me to—”
“Ha! You’re saying I told you to do that insane thing? You really have lost your damn mind!”
“I-it’s true. You did. You said you were busy and asked me to look after Patient Park Jeong-han just once—”
“Shut your mouth! How dare you try to pin this on me? You should be on your knees begging forgiveness!”
The other nurses working at the station kept shooting furtive glances, carefully gauging the atmosphere.
“One mistake from you and the patient is in the ICU right now. Do you understand that? How are you going to take responsibility for this mess, huh?!”
The head nurse’s murderous aura was so sharp that even Su-hwan felt a chill. Judging purely by the flow of events, Da-eun looked like the undeniable cause of the disaster.
“I really didn’t do it. Please believe me. Everyone!”
Da-eun looked around desperately.
“The head nurse really did give me that order. She asked me for a favor!”
“Stop talking nonsense! Fine. Let’s pretend for a second that what you’re saying is true. Did you not even check the chart before administering the drug?”
“…”
“Look at that. She’s lying through her teeth. Da-eun. We all know you’ve been going through a hard time lately and your head’s somewhere else. But this is too much.”
“What…?”
“Just admit you made a mistake already. Then I can at least try to clean up the mess for you.”
“Y-yeah. Da-eun, honestly, that was way out of line.”
The nurse sitting at a computer chimed in, and the others immediately piled on. Every single one of them was blaming Seo Da-eun.
“I didn’t do it. Really. All I did was follow instructions—”
“She still can’t even reflect on what she did.”
“I know everyone here doesn’t like me, but framing someone for a crime they didn’t commit is a whole different story. You’re all being cruel.”
In the end, tears began to spill down Da-eun’s cheeks.
Hmm…
Watching her, Su-hwan cocked his head. Her expression looked far too pure, far too innocent.
He opened the Register and examined her death entry.
Framed Fall from the Heights
Death of Resentment and Rage
She throws herself from a high place while bearing a false charge. Seo Da-eun is fated to meet a death steeped in injustice and fury.
So the head nurse is framing her?
Every reaction directed at Da-eun was ice-cold. In this world it seemed she had not a single ally.
No one is even willing to listen to her?
It looked no different from collective bullying. Of course, if she had truly made a mistake that put a patient in danger, no one would have been obligated to protect her. But right now she was desperately pleading her innocence.
Su-hwan vaguely recalled news stories about how severe workplace harassment among hospital nurses had become. The wall of freezing stares surrounding her made the situation easy enough to guess.
Then his eyes caught one nurse who looked particularly restless.
Huh…?
He had been so focused on Da-eun that he only now noticed her properly.
What is it? Something’s off.
She was the one who had been hammering Da-eun the hardest alongside the head nurse. Su-hwan narrowed his eyes and studied her.
A thin sheen of cold sweat on her forehead. Pupils trembling ever so slightly. At a glance she might have looked sick, but that wasn’t what Su-hwan saw.
She looked exactly like someone who had committed a crime and was terrified of being found out.
What was she doing just now? Sensing something wrong, Su-hwan quietly approached her station.
The monitor showed only the desktop, yet the taskbar at the bottom revealed that a chart program was still running.
Another wave of suspicion hit him. There was no reason for a nurse on duty to deliberately minimize a chart program to the taskbar. If the work were legitimate, she wouldn’t need to hide it.
He wanted to open that program. If he could, his suspicions would solidify into certainty.
If the sensation of touching objects is real… then maybe intervening in this world is possible too.
Swallowing hard, Su-hwan carefully placed his hand on the mouse. The cold plastic pressed against his palm.
Is this actually going to work?
The people around him still could not see him; they continued to corner Da-eun. He shot them a quick glance and slowly moved the mouse.
I-it really works!
The cursor on the screen responded. A thrill ran through him and his body gave an involuntary jolt.
This is insane.
He hurriedly clicked the chart program.
Click.
With a crisp mouse-click the chart unfolded across the monitor. Su-hwan let out a dry, disbelieving laugh.
Ha. So she was the culprit.
From the login account to the administration time to the operator’s name—every single piece of data had been meticulously rewritten to point at Seo Da-eun.
He had just walked in on the exact moment someone was shoving another human being’s entire life into the abyss.
Worse, the falsification had continued even while Da-eun was being dragged over and made to cry in front of the head nurse.
She said the head nurse ordered her to administer the drug, didn’t she?
I get it. Those two are in on it together. Maybe everyone here is.
“The system says you did it. Stop lying already.”
“No. I really didn’t. I haven’t even entered the chart yet—”
“So you’re saying you administered the drug and then didn’t even properly record it? Is this for real or are you just talking crap? Da-eun. Just admit you did it. Because you did.”
“I… I really didn’t. Or… no. It’s true. I didn’t do it.”
“Then the chart is lying? Why do you keep refusing to own up to your mistake? This is attempted murder, you know that?”
“Hah…!”
Park Su-hwan sucked in a huge breath and snapped his eyes open.
Seo Da-eun hurling herself over the hospital rooftop railing. The final image of her plummeting body refused to leave his vision, lingering like a phantom. Especially the wind that had brushed past his cheek—he could not forget that sensation.
One truth settled coldly into place.
Exercising physical force inside the Register world was not an unalloyed blessing. It also meant he would have to experience other people’s deaths far more vividly than before.
“Um… excuse me?”
A cautious, trembling voice. It was Seo Da-eun—the same woman who had been tearfully denying the head nurse’s accusations only moments ago.
“Yes?”
“You suddenly spaced out… You’re not feeling unwell, are you? Looking at your eyes you seem fine, but… do you need any help?”
For a second Su-hwan’s expression went blank; he failed to process her words right away.
“Ah—no?”
“Really? I thought maybe…”
Lately he had already been sensing that the physical symptoms that used to seize his body whenever he returned from the Register world were steadily diminishing. Now he knew it wasn’t just his imagination. A trained nurse was reacting with surprising calm. Compared to the old days—eyes rolling back, body convulsing, babbling nonsense—he had clearly improved.
Everything, including what had just happened inside the Register world, seemed to be shifting in a positive direction.
Yet because he could not understand the reason for the change, a quiet unease stirred inside him. Da-eun, who had been loading a watermelon into her cart, started to leave.
“W-wait a second.”
Su-hwan hurriedly caught her arm. The reason for the change could wait.
Right now, what mattered was warning her of the cruel fate that was about to close in.