The Weight of an Ordinary Life
“Elder!!”
Even as the voice calling out to Dae-baek-gong faded into the distance, starting from the moment of compassion, there was no way to stop the brightening sunlight. I cried out desperately, but it was futile.
“Joo-in?”
At my mother’s touch waking me, I snapped my eyes open and bolted upright, causing her to flinch back in surprise before speaking urgently.
“Jong-hyuk’s been waiting forever. He’s never once overslept.”
“What time is it...?”
“You’re about to be late. Hurry up and change, then get out there. His dad’s waiting to give you a ride on his way out today.”
Before I could even gather my wits, her frantic urging had me splashing water on my face in a daze, grabbing my uniform, and stumbling out of the house like I’d been chased into the alley.
“Whoa, what’s up with you? You’ve never slept in once.”
As I greeted Jong-hyuk and his father, Jong-hyuk teased me with a grin. I mumbled a half-hearted reply while starting to change into my uniform.
“Dude, we eat the same stuff, so what’s this? How’s your stomach all ripped like a washboard?”
The moment we reached the school gate, I thanked them profusely, grabbed Jong-hyuk’s arm, and broke into a run. We barely made it past the gate safely, but the wide playground still stretched out between us and the classroom.
“Huff... huff...”
“What’s going on? Did you guys bet on a morning run or something?”
We burst into the classroom just as Kyung-soo greeted us and the bell rang—we’d made it on time. Before I could catch my breath from the frantic sprint, Kyung-soo was already grilling us. In my still-foggy state, I blurted out a question to Jong-hyuk and Kyung-soo without thinking.
“What would you do?”
“Huh?”
Jong-hyuk and Kyung-soo, who’d been chatting about my rare tardiness, turned to me in unison at my sudden question.
“Say there’s a real villain you wish was dead. A scum who just keeps making victims as long as he lives. But killing him makes me stronger. Could you do it?”
“Did you pull an all-nighter gaming?”
“A villain... hmm, like what?”
“Around gym teacher level...?”
“Gym teacher level? He’d deserve it. I’d slice him clean if it were me. But your character’s a villain type? PKing boosts your stats?”
“It’s... not exactly... it’s a super realistic game, so PKing messes with your mental state. You could fall into corruption...”
“Then max out mental strength stats. Or if there’s no such thing, grab skills like Mental Barrier or whatever.”
“Or quests that lower your karma. Don’t games have stuff for when your chaos meter spikes?”
“Ah...”
I found my answer in their words. Ever since meeting Dae-baek-gong last night, I hadn’t been able to pull myself together—not because of anything else. Watching sinners like the gym teacher, I wanted to focus only on my family and close friends, but life is unpredictable. My report out of worry for Ji-hye had caught that criminal, but absurdly, a new victim named In-ha had appeared.
Could I ignore the horrors unfolding right in front of me like I did before regression? I’m no great person. That’s why my family and close friends matter more. My own health and satisfaction come first. I’m no great person... but could I really close my eyes to the atrocities happening before me?
If I could turn a blind eye, I wouldn’t be agonizing like this right now.
That’s why I couldn’t brush off the gym teacher incident as mere luck—it forced this dilemma. Like Dae-baek-gong warned, using power without cost leads to corruption, accelerating the world’s doom. I’d stay drunk on that power and end up harming my family, friends, and everyone around me.
But if, like Jong-hyuk and Kyung-soo said, it wasn’t costless power—if I could create the “lucky situations” Dae-baek-gong mentioned...
I just need to rack up singularities and trade them with Dae-baek-gong for a spell I need.
Aim for something like the Mental Barrier to avoid corruption, or whatever helps. That’s the goal—accumulate singularities. Only then did the fog blocking my vision start to clear.
Dae-baek-gong said there are beings accelerating the apocalypse...>
I swallowed the rising confusion and tossed out a casual question.
“So, in a game with a world-ending backdrop...”
“Apocalypse setting?”
“Yeah, zombie stuff’s everywhere these days. I couldn’t sleep after one round of Bio Hazard.”
“Ha... ha... so, how would you stop that kind of doom?”
“Just do the quests.”
“Follow the quests, and it usually ends with averting doom, right?”
“What if it’s not a major game?”
“Even then, the protagonist holds the key in the end.”
“Or it’s not a game.”
It’s no game, and I’m no protagonist...>
Frustration welled up naturally, but what I could do alone was limited. Dae-baek-gong’s warning was simply a hope that I wouldn’t corrupt and hasten the end...
Asking Dae-baek-gong for at least ways to delay the apocalypse might show the path forward.
Before regression, if life was ordinary, I wouldn’t have cared about the world ending or vanishing tomorrow.
· · ·
Before regression, I lived deceived by the word “ordinary.” But reaching the end of life reveals the truth: the “ordinary” we perceive isn’t ordinary at all... Passing endless ordinary benchmarks leads us to unwanted destinations, watching each other in regret... I learned too late.
We deceive each other that we’re ordinary. Look around daily life: the neighborhood mini-mart always lit up. Its owner rises at dawn to sweep the front, works late into the night without holidays, just to keep it going. For them, ordinary means opening at dawn, closing at midnight, staying open year-round for the community’s convenience.
Can they vacation with family? Go to the hospital freely when sick? The old pork soup joint always at dad’s favorite market. As a kid, I resented dragging the family there for scalding-hot stew, but as an adult, I couldn’t go even if I wanted. It held its spot from my childhood to adulthood, prices unchanged, taste preserved—but after the grandmother, worn out by grueling hours, passed, no family member could continue.
Bad taste? No. They couldn’t match her workload.
Yes. The “ordinary” daily life we casually call ordinary is infused with someone’s sweat and effort. We struggle to fit that mold. Everyone says “ordinary” lightly, but undervaluing the effort it takes makes the word wrong.
We live deceiving each other as ordinary, fretting if we exceed or fall short of that range. But everything deemed ordinary is built on someone’s blood and sweat. We just cloak it in “daily life” or “ordinary” and speak easily of it.
Under the guise of “living ordinarily,” haven’t we abandoned too much? Like others, chasing decent grades for college, jobs, family... If we live deceived by “ordinary” to blend in—not for true happiness—life can’t be our own.
Studying because you love it is great. But studying to pass ordinary benchmarks—who’s that for? College for your dreams is great. But going because everyone does—who’s college is that? Working to enjoy life is great. But needing a “decent” job by others’ eyes—whose standard? Marrying for love matters, not age or stares—whose life is that?
I learned too late: be the subject of your own life, no one’s standard. Society rejects the unordinary. It doesn’t teach self-love or living your truth. In my youth? I believed parents, teachers, newspapers, news, elders. No doubts. I was young, taught to trust adults—it felt ordinary, easy.
But I ignored parents’ dilemmas, their lonely struggles, hearing only what suited me. Overlooked teachers’ deviations, biases, abusing authority for gain. Missed newspapers’ buried truths amid “facts.” Ignored news manipulating for agendas, remembering only sensationalism. Saw elders’ infighting as mere society, not self-interest.
Now, at life’s end reborn, I know: Parents may lie from circumstance, truths hidden from the young. Teachers vary—some admirable, others phoning it in, annoyed by kids. Media chases profit, burying painful truths to exploit. Elders race life’s waves without looking back.
Deceived by “ordinary,” I squandered my precious single chance at life.
That’s why... I won’t waste it pretending ordinary like before regression.