Descent into the Abyss
Startled awake, Kim Jun spotted an old man standing at the cliff's edge, hands clasped behind his back, gazing out at the sea. The setting sun painted the waves blood-red.
“Teacher.”
“Now, let's begin.”
“Yes.”
Kim Jun tensed up completely. What kind of terrifying training demanded even a moment's rest?
“I'm going to touch your body with my finger. Very lightly. All you have to do is survive.”
“……”
Kim Jun just blinked in confusion. He couldn't make sense of the old man's words. Survive? Did that mean he could die?
“Good luck.”
In that instant, the old man's finger brushed his solar plexus. There was never any chance to dodge.
A cold, heavy energy spread from his chest throughout his body.
His body twisted.
Crack, crunch—bones snapped and ground out of place.
A bomb of agony detonated deep inside him.
Kim Jun screamed without realizing it.
Then, his heartbeat stopped.
His body tilted slowly backward and collapsed to the ground. He could feel the old man's gaze looking down from above.
His cooling body sank into deeper darkness. No, physically he lay on the cliff, but it felt like invisible hands had seized him, dragging him down into the ocean depths.
The vital connections sustaining his life since birth were snapping one by one.
Bones loosened in their joints.
Muscles attached to those bones grew slack and mushy.
Blood vessels clogging, halting circulation through his body.
Sensations blurred. He couldn't even hear his own desperate screams anymore.
His body… was dying.
My heart's already stopped. Three minutes? Four? Am I dead?
Only now did Kim Jun realize this death felt eerily like a deep dive.
The surroundings were deathly still.
No sea breeze, no salty tang in the air, no rough texture of the rocky island under his feet.
Not even tears for the sorrow of life's end. Maybe they were flowing, but severed senses hid them.
Darkness enveloped him.
The ocean floor of the abyss.
Where life ended and death began.
Kim Jun became part of the darkness. Sinking like this, forgotten like this.
Time lost all meaning.
He didn't know or care how long he'd sunk. This place… was it where everything vanished?
Something he'd never forget, even in death?
Yes!
Dad! Mom! Little sister!
And comrades! Master!
Light appeared. Or rather, he felt it.
The beam piercing the dark was warm. Touching it, he felt himself rising.
Sensations sharpened faintly. A dull ache from a sharp rock digging into his back.
His body's internals reconnected. Bones to bones, muscles to vessels. Clogged arteries cleared just enough. His marathon-honed lungs held out without oxygen.
Finally, a tiny spark crackled near his heart—then it beat again. Blood pumped slowly, spreading through his body.
But the light reviving him, banishing the dark, was feeble. His sturdy heart faltered, and Kim Jun sank back into the depths.
Hope of survival only amplified death's despair.
Despair swells when evaded, chasing relentlessly. Knowing this best, Kim Jun stared down the blackness head-on. Eyes fierce, he glared into death.
Family. Comrades.
He clung tight to those memories. Lose his reason to live, and he'd become part of that abyss.
Light returned.
Kim Jun began to rise.
His pounding heart thundered like lightning. The force pushing blood… still weak.
Death tugged him down again.
Thus, life and death played tug-of-war with Kim Jun in the middle.
The moment balance broke, he'd sink forever… or live again.
Kim Jun's eyes fluttered open.
A cool breeze brushed his nose.
His vision filled with stars like sugar sprinkled across the pitch-black sky.
“Awake?”
The old man spoke.
Kim Jun couldn't respond.
It felt like clawing out of a long nightmare. Like a movie protagonist yanked into a lake by a water ghost, barely escaping alive.
He tried to sit up but groaned and gave up. His body ached like it had shattered into pieces.
“Lie still.”
Hearing that voice revived the memory. The old man's finger on his chest—terror from that moment on.
Was it real?
Or just another dream?
As time passed, truth clarified. A day? Two? Maybe three days of battling life and death.
Kim Jun was certain: stay on this island, and he'd die.
The old man stepped away briefly. Gritting through pain, Kim Jun staggered to the cliff.
And leaped.
To survive.
After dropping three fishermen at the rocks, Kang the fisherman crossed the twilight sea, slowing his boat.
On the way to port, he'd haul up yesterday's net. For side dishes, or to gift a couple of fat catches to his benefactor.
He hooked the buoy and pulled.
The net felt heavy.
A smile crept across Kang's face. Guiding fishermen paid well, but fierce competition made him consider returning to full-time fishing.
The problem was his wife.
Catching fish in rough seas was grueling and dangerous.
She hated seeing him suffer. Grateful, but sometimes annoying.
“Whoa, this thing's heavy as hell.”
The net's top finally broke the surface. A big octopus and several hefty fish inside.
Kang chuckled, hauling it aboard.
He turned—and froze.
Miles from any island… a youngish man lay gasping on the boat deck.
“...What the?”
“H-Harbor, right?”
Kim Jun barely croaked.
“Y-Yeah?”
“Just drop me there.”
“...Alright.”
Kang gathered the octopus and fish but kept glancing at Kim Jun.
Moments later, the boat chugged onward.
Kim Jun sighed in relief, closing his eyes. Finally free from that hellish rock island.
Explaining to Master Go Cheolmin could wait.
The boat rocked gently. No engine rumble. They'd reached harbor.
Kim Jun sat up—and went speechless. That damn cliff filled half his view.
“H-How…?”
He turned. The old man chatted with the fisherman, who handed over two big fish with a grin.
“I told you not to bring stuff like this.”
“You saved my family, sir. This is nothing. Everyone around here owes you big time.”
“Heh, folks these days.”
The chuckling old man looked like a kindly neighborhood grandpa.
He approached.
“Let's head up.”
Kim Jun had no way to resist.
The boat pulled away from the island. His chance at mainland gone.
Seating Kim Jun, the old man grilled fish himself before speaking.
“Go Gundu ran away too.”
“...For real?”
“Three times, I reckon. Dragged back each time.”
“……”
Kim Jun got it. Escape was pointless. But knowing even Go Cheolmin fled such brutal training was oddly comforting.
“Eat up.”
Octopus, fish, perfectly fermented kimchi, wild herb banchan—irresistible flavors.
Even eating, Kim Jun eyed the old man warily.
Especially those blunt fingers. The instant one touched his chest, he'd nearly died.
Surviving was a miracle.
Meal ended.
Then, the old man glanced behind Kim Jun.
“Go, what brings you here?”
Kim Jun turned instinctively. No Go Cheolmin anywhere.
In that split second, the old man's finger jabbed the center of his back.
Kim Jun screamed, collapsing in convulsions.
His heart stopped again.
If the chest energy was ice, this back-piercing force was… pure flame.
His body burned from the inside out.
At pain's peak, Kim Jun felt himself rising. Like an ember from blazing logs, shooting skyward endlessly.
The higher it flew, the farther it scattered.
Scattering meant oblivion.
As his very existence blurred, a pull from below. That chilling force dragged him down slowly, relentlessly.
Heart beating again.
Recovery brought pain roaring back—worse than anything, fiercer than childbirth, the legendary scorching agony. Kim Jun teetered on insanity.
He wanted to forget it all.
Just die. No more pain then.
But he couldn't. Quitting here voided everything. His dream of finding Dad… just a foolish son's delusion.
He plunged into the searing torment.
Only way to survive.
Only way to heal.
Kim Jun screamed for two days straight, battling the scorching agony—and endured.
Coming to, Kim Jun didn't check for the old man. He crawled to the cliff edge. No strength to stand. At the brink, he didn't hesitate—shifted his weight forward.
Splash.
In the sea, Kim Jun ignored pain, thrashing arms and legs to escape underwater hazards.
Diving deep, he met the current from his damselfish hunt. It swept his exhausted body out to sea.
Reaching land took at least three days. Kim Jun lost track. He'd blacked out drifting at sea countless times.
Faint mountain outlines far off—he wept and sobbed. Finally escaped the island.
This time, boats approached? He dove deep to evade.
Scouting shores from breathable depths.
That old man might lurk.
An hour later, Kim Jun emerged, collapsing on a sandy, muddy beach.
Even the hot sun felt welcoming.
Sitting up, hunger gnawed.
Swimming here, he'd munched seaweed when starving. Speared fish, ate raw flesh.
He craved real food.
Leaving the beach for road, greasy jjajangmyeon scent wafted.
“Ah!”
No money crossed his mind. Only obsession: must eat that jjajangmyeon.
He pushed open the worn door of a rundown rural Chinese joint.
The owner gawked at him.
“J-Jjajangmyeon, double serving.”
Seated, Kim Jun rasped. Voice boomed—first words in days, poor control.
Owner said nothing. Decided to feed the castaway-lookalike.
Soon, steaming jjajangmyeon arrived.
Chopsticks rose— one clattered down. Hands shook violently.
Mixing took ages.
Saliva flooded his throat. He wanted to shove noodles in by hand, fingers scooping.
Finally, jjajangmyeon hit his mouth.
A nutty, oily, euphoric bliss spread through him. Crunching danmuji… heaven right there.
Never again underestimate jjajangmyeon and danmuji. Mock them? Cursed forever.
Empty stomach rebelled at the grease flood, but Kim Jun shoveled on.
Then, from the kitchen—the old man. No sign of the owner.
“Tasty? Haven't flexed my cooking in ages. Hope it suits.”
Kim Jun spat noodles, eyes flickering in shock.
As if expecting it, the old man chuckled, wiped the table, sat.
“Not dragging you back. Want to go? I'll spot bus fare to Seoul.”
Crumpled bills on the table.
Kim Jun listened silently, but his stare bored into the old man's fingers. The instant they twitched, he'd bolt out the door.