Chapter 31
Beef! Eating too much harms the body, but vitamins do the same, so that's beside the point! I was thrilled that I could soon devour some beef, though I felt a twinge of pity for my opponent, who still couldn't accept his defeat.
"No way..."
"Good match."
It had been a fantastic match—one that earned me that beef.
"This is cheating!"
The coach of that player bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"Admit it."
"He must've used drugs! Winning with that scrawny body? We need to test him right now!"
"And if it's not drugs? I want specifics on how you'll compensate for slandering my athlete's honor."
"Kuh!"
"If not, just apologize and we're done."
The coaches launched into a secondary battle over the match results. Far more exciting than the main event! I waited quietly, biding my time for that beef...
"This isn't slander! Look at your guy—how could we not suspect drugs? Right? Long legs? Big hands and feet? Skinny as a rail."
Delusions are free, but isn't personal attacks crossing the line?
"That remark you just made? That's slander."
"Hmph! It's not wrong, is it?"
"If you lost, admit it cleanly. Don't be sore losers."
"Wh-what?! Sore losers?!"
The conversation gradually tilted toward me getting tested. 'Tests are such a pain...' I'd had too many lately and wanted to refuse, but the mood was pushing for verification.
At that moment...
"Coach, calm down. That match was fair."
"We were ahead at first, weren't we? We just lost stamina."
"That player's specialty isn't long limbs."
"It's his incredibly high lung capacity."
The other athletes watching stood up and chimed in one by one. Then...
"Th-think I don't know that?! It has to be a bronchodilator boosting his lung capacity...!"
Cornered after his personal attack backfired, the coach hastily changed his tune.
'Bronchodilator?' Something that widens the airways? I hadn't even known such a drug existed.
"Can you take responsibility for that claim?"
My coach asked again, looking extremely displeased.
"Of course!"
"How exactly?"
"If I'm wrong, I'll apologize formally and clean the pool until the end of the year!"
Ooh! Pool cleaning! Overkill, but that showed his confidence, huh? Too bad. Of course...
"Let me ask the reverse. If drugs are proven, how will you take responsibility?"
"I'll resign without a word."
"...Fine."
A declaration to quit coaching. Harsher than pool duty? The coach's eyes, brimming with certainty moments ago, wavered faintly. He seemed conflicted but didn't back down.
"Looks like we're done talking. Shall we get tested?"
"Naturally."
"You'll regret it..."
"That's my line! Let's see when that bravado crumbles."
And so... the pool lost a poor cleaning job opportunity.
* * *
This gave me a crash course in Olympic banned substances. Especially salbutamol and formoterol, asthma treatments that boost lung capacity and draw the most suspicion.
Salbutamol. Formoterol.
I even memorized those unfamiliar names! Beyond them, the EPO I'd been accused of—erythropoietin—temporarily boosts red blood cell production to increase oxygen transport...
"Must've been rough."
Seo Hye-ju, the section chief, smirked at my grumbling.
"Don't even ask. That coach even accused the doping test doctor of being in on it—total nonsense."
"As a fellow doctor, that's regrettable."
Her soulless reply made it clear she had zero interest in my week's ordeal. She only cared about one thing.
"How's your body recovering?"
"Not yet."
Here, "body" didn't just mean the physical. Mental state. The trauma from Choi Kang-min, the Magic Boy, had hit hard.
"Choi Kang-min doesn't have much time left."
"Pardon? Isn't it over two months still?"
"The 100 days I mentioned before aren't a guaranteed minimum grace period. Quite the opposite. He could die any moment."
"......"
"For reference, he's also prescribed salbutamol and formoterol—the drugs you were suspected of. One of his complications is asthma from bronchial inflammation."
"Ah, I see."
I didn't care what killed Choi Kang-min. But 'Gotta hurry, huh?' If I wanted the treatment fee Seo Hye-ju promised, I couldn't afford to slack like this.
Not that I felt urgent, though. I'd decided to help him without ethics, morals, or duty. After experiencing hell, I no longer saw him as human.
Anyway, "To convince Choi Kang-min, trapped in his dream, we need solid proof that it's a dream."
The only way to wake him before his life ends. Not mere speculation.
'Song Seon-yeong was the same.' She'd chosen suicide every time things went wrong, never questioning the unrealistic rewinds to the past. She thought she was special. Baseless rationalization.
"Choi Kang-min firmly believes he's a special being with superhuman powers."
"Hearing that just drains me. I'm working day and night to wake him, while he's blissfully happy in his dream..."
"No choice."
I disliked Choi Kang-min, but couldn't fault him on this. Why? Even I, a science believer, had fallen for Song Seon-yeong's dream as reality.
"But Kang Moon-soo, do you have a plan?"
"Convince him. What else?"
The moment Song Seon-yeong abandoned the occult under my persuasion, we woke from what we thought was reality.
'Got lucky then...' Back then, my actions weren't premeditated as dream knowledge. But now? The moment the surroundings shifted unrealistically, I knew it was a dream.
"Subduing him... impossible."
"Yeah. No way I beat Choi Kang-min, who's fast as light."
Persuasion was the only path. But failure meant another hell, so I needed ironclad proof.
"Same here. But solid proof..."
"......"
"......"
We clamped our mouths shut, deep in thought. Seconds later...
"A family secret only they know."
"Info unobtainable in the dream."
Seo Hye-ju and I spoke our ideas almost simultaneously. Different paths, same conclusion. Satisfied, we exchanged knowing smiles.
"I'll head out."
"I'll contact the guardian for cooperation in the meantime."
"Thanks!"
Showing up at Choi Kang-hun's place unannounced? I'd be stuck at the elevator without a keycard. But with a heads-up from his attending physician, Seo Hye-ju, it'd be smooth.
'Already looking forward to it.' Did he shit the bed or couch watching a horror movie as a kid? I needed loads of Choi Kang-min's dark history known only to him and his parents.
* * *
(Reserved guest has arrived.)
Ding-dong! Dr-r-rk—
The elevator stopped at the penthouse officetel top floor, doors sliding open to butlers and maids welcoming me.
"Welcome."
"Welcome, sir."
"Welcome, Kang Moon-soo!"
The maids' gazes, perfectly matching the homeowner's tastes, focused on me, making me feel like nobility.
"Young Master Kang Moon-soo?"
"Ah, yes."
"The Chairman is waiting."
"...Got it."
The butler's words snapped me alert; I stepped forward slowly.
"No need to be so tense. The misunderstanding's cleared up."
"......"
The aptitude shaman reveal turning me into a suspected fraud? That sting vanished the moment I saw my bank balance. My serious expression now? For another reason.
'How much to tell him?'
Choi Kang-min framing his half-brother Choi Kang-hun, sending him to prison. Dream events, but to Choi Kang-min—who believed it real—his judgment and actions were sincere.
"A banquet is prepared on the Chairman's orders."
"Oh!"
"He urgently hired a top chef upon hearing you'd come."
"No need to go that far..."
"That's how sincere the Chairman is toward you."
"...I see."
Sincerity. The word stirred my undecided heart—for good or ill.
Knock knock.
"Chairman. Kang M—"
"Come in!"
The butler's knock on the study door was cut off by the homeowner's booming permission. A total 180 from when he'd treated me like a con artist.
"Young master, please enter. I'll prepare tea."
"Yes."
Creeeak—I gave a light bow of thanks to the thoughtful butler, then cautiously opened the study door.
"Excuse m—"
"Moon-soo! I'm truly sorry!"
Whoosh!
I was enveloped in a hot hug from the homeowner, who'd been waiting right by the door.
"Ah, hello?"
"I was such an old fool last time!"
"It's fine. These things happen."
The apology was plenty in my bank account digits.
"Ever since, Kang-hun nags me nonstop whenever our eyes meet! How could you do that to him, he yells at his old man..."
"I-is that so."
His grumbling voice brimmed with love for his son, Choi Kang-hun. That's why 'I have to tell him.' Even if a dream, another son existed who envied and hated this love.
"Chairman."
"Hey now! Moon-soo, call me 'uncle' like old times. I'd love that—it's this old man's wish!"
"...Uncle."
"Yes! Haha!"
The modest man laughed heartily.
"I have something important to say..."
"About the dream?"
"Yes. Seo Hye-ju must've told you."
"No, the doctor said nothing. Just that a real shaman—you—would explain."
"Then how...?"
"From Kang-hun."
"He grumbled to me about going to prison in your dream."
A wry smile escaped me. I hadn't told him to snitch...
"What? Kang-hun went to prison? For what crime?"
"......"
I'd jumped ahead.
"Kang-hun didn't say much. Just that the real shaman—you—met Kang-min in the dream."
"I see."
Then it was safe.
"Kang-min sent his only brother to prison?"
"......"
"Nailed it. Your face says it all."
"Uncle, how did you know?"
I doubted Seo Hye-ju hadn't spilled.
"That's the kind of son he is."
"Pardon?"
"That's why my successor is Kang-hun, not Kang-min. That boy wouldn't kill his brother."
"Ah..."
Is this what parents do? My heart ached.
"But my successor in prison... means dirt in my eyes, right? Is that it?"
"Yes."
He pieced it together flawlessly without explanation. I let out a hollow laugh.
"Amazing, really. Killing me wouldn't be easy..."
No bluff. This study alone proved it.
"......"
"......"
Black-suited bodyguards stood silently in the corner. Alone against them? Choi Kang-hun? Unrealistic.
'Right. Impossible in reality.'
But a superhuman, a Magic Boy? Entirely possible.
"Moon-soo."
"Yes."
"Just curious—didn't Kang-min tell you in the dream?"
"What?"
"How he kills this old man."
"......"
What had this man seen in his firstborn? My gut screamed this held the key to my visit.
"Why assume that?"
"That's the kind of son he is."
"If you're okay with it, could you tell me the story?"
"Hm... Very well."
His tale dated back ten years.