The Final 48 Hours
I'm really fucked. ……………
"Yeah. I get that you're struggling too, ajusshi."
Yeom Hana withdrew her smile and spoke. Her voice remained calm.
"So if you want it gone, I'll get rid of it. Just say the word—no holding back."
"...That won't work."
The words burst out almost reflexively. I knew it in my head too. If we aborted the fetus growing in Yeom Hana's belly right now, we could end this mess in one go. That was practically the only solution. I'd turn into human trash, but at least I'd save my life. Lee Jin-ah and Han Sol would be satisfied. Yeom Hana would... probably go back to how things were before. Maybe I was being an idiot. Don't people opt for abortion even later in pregnancy? But I didn't want to. My head got it, but my heart rejected that fix outright.
"You need to take care of your body too. And watch your mouth—can't be talking about getting rid of the baby in front of its mom."
"Heh, really?"
Yeom Hana grinned and shot back at me.
"Then what do you want to do, ajusshi? What's your plan going forward?"
"Well..."
I couldn't answer. What did I want? If I knew that, would I be huddled here in this motel room corner, half-dead? Tens of thousands of simulations in my head, and all that came up were bad ends or dead ends.
"I don't know."
In the end, a pathetic admission of defeat slipped out. As I slumped completely, covering my face with my hands, Yeom Hana let out a chuckle.
"Sigh. My ajusshi looks about ready to keel over."
Then she abruptly yanked my head toward her, pulling me into her embrace.
"Here, grope my boobs and perk up."
Warmth flooded through the gown. A strangely soothing scent—body wash mixed with her natural smell.
"...Hey."
"Yeah?"
"Is this supposed to be comfort?"
"Duh? You love this stuff, ajusshi. Said it melts your stress away."
"Hah."
I nearly laughed at the sheer absurdity. A crude joke in the middle of this dire situation. But it was pure Yeom Hana.
"Enough. Just rest."
Her hand slowly stroked my back—like calming a massive, terrified dog.
...Haha.
At my age, getting patted and soothed by a twenty-year-old girl. My pride should've been shredded, but right now? It just felt good. Having a place to lean back on without a single thought.
"Oh, the hospital said they can check the gender with a blood draw."
"...Already?"
"Yeah. If you're curious, I'll do it next visit and let you know. Boy or girl—aren't you wondering?"
"Nah, no need to go that far..."
I tried brushing it off, but that vague little dot in the black-and-white photo was gaining shape, inching closer as my son or my daughter. The weight of those words hit hard. Layered with her hand gliding down my back, it felt like the one lifeline dangling from this cliff's edge.
Unthinkingly, I wrapped my arms around Yeom Hana's waist. Soft skin pressed against me through the thin gown fabric.
But.
...Something's off.
A subtle wrongness. Her breasts felt fuller, heavier than before. Not just fat gain—the density, the heft filling my palms was different. Already impressive, now they ballooned past my head in feel.
No way—is this pregnancy too?
If so, her body was gearing up perfectly for motherhood. I was the only one frozen, flailing.
The brief solace. But even that was momentary.
Pulling my head from her chest, reality slammed back. Dingy motel walls. And outside that door—hell itself. Lee Jin-ah and Han Sol, twin blades of murderous threats. Just picturing them choked the air from my lungs.
"...Hana."
"Yeah?"
Impulse hit—no calculations. Words tumbled out.
"Should we just run? Somewhere no one knows us."
Hollow laugh, nonsense tossed to dodge the crushing weight. Eighty percent joke, twenty percent real.
But... strange.
Once said, the words hung heavier, morphing into a viable option.
Run.
One word solidifying fast in my mind. Sounded decent, actually.
Stay in Seoul? I'd die. Socially shredded by Lee Jin-ah, or dragged into Han Sol's nightmare. Protecting the kid in Yeom Hana's belly? Dicey at best.
Might as well bolt to some backwater village, sling manual labor... at least survive.
Manual labor...
A week ago? Unthinkable. Han Kang, barely clinging to middle-class fringes. Ditch the steady job, plummet to rock bottom? Bullshit.
But now, that grubby future gleamed as the sole exit. Helmet on, hauling bricks—fine by me. No abortion-pushing girlfriend threats, no self-harm-dangling daughter.
Body aches? Deal. Homecoming: Yeom Hana and the kid waiting.
"I'm good."
Yeom Hana's voice cut in.
"Got nothing to lose anyway. Anywhere's fine with you, ajusshi."
"...Really?"
"Yeah. But you okay?"
She peered straight into my eyes.
"Job, rep, cash—all gone."
Speechless. Of course not. Blood from my eyes. End with running? Lee Jin-ah backs off? No guarantee she won't slap me with hierarchy abuse charges, turn me fugitive.
Han Sol? Back to normal sans dad? Hell no. She'd slash her throat. Or legacy-note me into a dive.
No debate. Night flight: moronic, brain-dead, trash move. Hell pursues relentlessly.
Long silence. My big answer? Pathetic.
"...Dunno. Paradise ain't in escape, they say."
Rock bottom. Trials? Forget passing. Current crisis? Unbreakable. Cliffs everywhere, no retreat.
Then Yeom Hana—arms still looped my waist—patted my back soft.
"Don't stress so much."
Drowsy voice, brimming certainty.
"Live crappy... but with you, ajusshi? Me and baby happy."
"........."
Couldn't agree or argue. Just with you, happy echoed.
Motel's purple light flickered faint. Her warmth enveloped me; outside, sun dipped.
No answers.
……………
Next day. Summoned by Lee Jin-ah the instant I clocked in.
Alert hit—guts twisted. Yesterday's fleeting peace in Yeom Hana's arms? Vaporized.
Elevator up, stairs to rooftop—like marching to the noose. Feet leaden dread.
Pushed the iron door: morning sun stabbed, chill wind gusted. Back soaked in cold sweat.
Lee Jin-ah leaned on the railing. One thing screamed today: tablet PC in her left hand. Why? Presentation prop only.
"You're here."
She turned.
"Days since then. You get rid of it?"
Knife-straight. No hello, no lead-in.
"That..."
Lips glued shut. Duh—no abortion, no plans.
What to spit? More time? Mulling? Excuses doomed; words fizzled unspoken.
My silence? She sighed short.
"Knew it."
Expected. Flicked tablet screen on.
"See this?"
Exposing the Misdeeds of Special Security Management Bureau Agent Han Kang (45)
[Peeping via hierarchy]
[Maintained workplace lover relationship while impregnating another woman, freshly adult from dire straits]
[Victim: high-school grad, no real job]
[Perpetrator exploited social status and age]
Screen thrust out. First glance: dense doc. Title hit—blood reversed.
Expose post. Finished draft.
Eyes auto-scanned body. Each word gouged eyeballs. Sly mix: kernel truth, bulk lies. Painted me ultimate scum, pervert predator. Frame so venomous, nausea surged.
Fists shook.
"This... what the hell. You wouldn't..."
"No hard feelings."
Lee Jin-ah sliced calm.
"Just aiding since sunbae won't pick."
Voice flat—no rage, envy, hurt. Pure notice: ignore warning, promised action follows.
"Sunbae knows. Cancer lump."
Finger tapped pregnancy.
"Slice now—hurts, but saves sunbae. Might resent me; doing surgery for you."
Cancer. Yeom Hana's child.
"...Watch it. Cancer? Talk like that to a person?"
Edge sharpened my voice first. She didn't blink.
"Said it's not a person yet? No brain formed—how's it human?"
Tablet off, sidled close hug-like, straightened my shirt collar. Gentle hands. Mouth? Ultimatum.
"Exactly two days."
"........."
"OB-GYN receipt in two days. No?..."
Eyes crescent-smiled.
"Blast this to forums, SNS, tabloid hacks. Know those TV tip lines for scandal sagas?"
Two days. Forty-eight hours. Impossible. Body, soul.
Her face: your mess, not mine.
"Oh."
Door-bound, paused.
"No funny business on me. File shared with friend—auto-posts sans check-in."
"......"
Even head's dark flashes? Preempted.
Clang.
Door shut-echo as she left.
...Over.
Legs buckled; ass-planted.
Two days. 48-hour death clock.
Tick out: social corpse.
Price for fear-frozen retreat, not hardship charge. Endgame: sheer drop, no footing left.