The Kick That Changed Everything
The fourth world had to be a little better, right? ……………
In a narrow alley in Seoul, a semi-basement one-room. The rusty doorknob turned. Catalina stepped into the cramped room reeking of mold. A single bed, a small desk, and a wardrobe—that was it. The window was half-buried in the ground, letting in barely any sunlight.
The address from the man's passport photo, the email in his YouTube channel bio. After weeks of searching, she'd finally tracked down this place. It was Ma Hyuksu's old one-room.
"Way smaller than the safehouse in Santa Esperanza. And he wanted to get married while living here? What an idiot..."
Her mutter echoed in the empty room. Catalina sat on the edge of the bed. The springs creaked, just like the safehouse sofa. She almost laughed. But the amusement faded quickly.
This empty room held only traces of him now. He no longer existed in this world. Forever.
He lived here. In this narrow, dark, damp hole, saving money, dreaming of travel. And at the end of that journey, he'd reached Santa Esperanza.
She clutched the bedsheet between her fingers. The fabric crumpled sharply under her grip. Hands that had killed hundreds. Hands that pulled triggers without hesitation. What should they do now? Work at a convenience store? Barista at a cafe? The ordinary life Ma Hyuksu had told her to live. She didn't even know what that meant.
She had money. The $30,000 he'd left her. Exchanged for won, it could last years in Korea. But after that?
In Santa Esperanza, a gun solved everything. Problems? Shoot them away. Negotiations? Lead with the barrel. Not here. And it shouldn't be.
His final words echoed in her mind.
"Easy for you to say... you moron. Telling a woman who's spent her life killing to just live normally."
She pulled out her phone and opened a photo. Ma Hyuksu grinning wide on some beach. Not from Santa Esperanza—captured from his YouTube channel. A few weeks ago, he'd died vomiting blood in a back alley there. It still didn't feel real.
Suddenly, she wondered. If she could start over from the beginning. If she hadn't sold him out to the robbers. Pointless what-ifs now.
Passersby's ankles shuffled past the one-room window. They probably never saw corpses hanging from streetlamps. Or blood splattered on roads. Could she live like that?
She didn't know. ……………
Catalina rose from the bed. She couldn't remember how many days she'd spent here. Convenience store kimbap wrappers and instant ramen cups littered the floor. Outside, only ankles passed by. Commuters heading to work, home, dates. Everyone going somewhere with purpose, meaning.
Everyone except her.
"Live ordinarily," Ma Hyuksu's last words resurfaced. They'd become shackles binding her mind. But she still didn't know what "ordinary" even was.
Her first kill at twelve. Countless lives taken by the time she fled Santa Esperanza. Could a woman like that ring up customers' items, bag them with a smile? Serve coffee with a grin? Laughable.
She'd escaped Santa Esperanza, but she was still trapped. In the prison of her past.
"I can't do it."
She lacked confidence to honor his request. She didn't know how to survive anyway, and Ma Hyuksu was gone.
His $30,000? Money couldn't buy everything. Like a reason to live.
Catalina dragged a small plastic chair under the window. Standing on it brought the ceiling close. Within arm's reach. She untied her sneaker laces. Not as sturdy as the nylon cords she used for kills, but enough for a woman's weight.
She knotted them into a noose. Sized for her neck.
'Sorry.'
She'd left Santa Esperanza per his dying wish. Come to Korea on a whim to see his birthplace. That was enough. Dying where he'd lived wasn't bad.
She slipped the noose around her neck. The lace bit into her skin. Just kick the chair, and it was over. Everything ended.
Catalina took a final deep breath. Once, twice. On the third exhale—
Something moved in her belly.
"Ugh."
At first, indigestion. But no. This was different. And it happened again. Sharper this time. Like a tiny butterfly fluttering in her lower abdomen, a small fish flicking its tail underwater.
Instinct told her. This sensation was... fetal movement.
Life had taken root inside her.
The noose suddenly terrified her. She yanked it off frantically. Stepped down, hand to her belly. Still flat, not swollen. But she felt it. Life growing within.
"No way...?"
The last days in Santa Esperanza. Despair, booze, nights with Ma Hyuksu. She counted on her fingers. The dates lined up. She'd blamed her stopped periods on stress. Wrong.
"You... you're in there, aren't you?"
The third kick. Unmistakable. As if answering her. I'm here. I want to live.
Her knees buckled. Catalina collapsed to the floor.
"Sorry... I'm sorry..."
She didn't know who she was apologizing to. The child? Ma Hyuksu? Herself?
After sobbing for a while, she lifted her head. Ankles hurried past outside. They were someone's children, someone's parents too. Maybe ordinary life wasn't grand—just surviving day by day.
She stroked her belly.
"It's okay. We... we can live."
She realized belatedly she'd said "we." Yes. She wasn't alone anymore. She'd acknowledged it.
Ma Hyuksu was dead, but not gone. Part of him, his final gift, grew inside her.
She might never live ordinarily. But she could raise this child that way. In a place without gunshots, hanging corpses, killing. The life he'd wanted.
Sunlight slanted through the tiny semi-basement window. Catalina's new life had begun. ……………
The familiar cafe aroma tickled her nose. Third time now. Death. Return.
"You're back."
The Victory Goddess in her sharp suit spoke first. A strange satisfaction lit her face—new.
"Quite the entertaining tale."
The Family Goddess set down her coffee cup.
"Especially that death scene. Impressive, leaving hope to the next generation."
'Next generation?'
His will—handing over everything, urging an ordinary life?
The Victory Goddess chimed in.
"Personally, staying and fighting in that city wouldn't have been bad. You had a warrior's talent."
Even the Love Goddess.
"Fine, I'll admit it was decent melodrama. Betrayal, forgiveness, death, new life, hope's seed. Not my favorite soap opera style, but... even cliches aren't bad."
She tapped her lips.
"But trial failed. Not a happy ending. Open, bittersweet with hope."
"...Yeah, probably."
Expected. Shot dead in the street—no claiming victory.
But all three goddesses looked satisfied. Unprecedented.
'Nice vibe...'
Opportunity. In this mood, maybe snag something useful for the fourth world.
"By the way."
Their gazes focused.
"Wasn't the third world too unfair? Sure, great physical abilities, but in a cartel lawless zone? Useless."
"Unfair? Life's always unfair."
The Love Goddess snorted.
"Still, balance it a bit. Need some proactive edge, right? Honestly, a fit body in that city? One bullet ends it. This was torture, not trial."
Silence fell.
The Family Goddess spoke first.
"...Fair point. Fine. Your third-world story was solid, so special reward."
"Reward?"
"Next world, you'll get a special ability."
"What kind?"
She smiled meaningfully.
"Who knows? Told you—everything's random."
I wanted to press, but she waved me off.
"No more details. I don't know. Find out yourself."
The Love Goddess snapped her fingers. Space rippled.
"Expect fun in the fourth. Melodrama's fine, but repeats bore."
Vision darkened. Transition to fourth world.
'Special ability...'
What would it be? Superpower? Magic?
Mix of hope and dread, consciousness faded again.
The fourth world awaited.