My Way
“Tell the truth. Are you a spy sent by the Dang Clan?”
He had no idea what she was talking about.
She had knocked him down and twisted his arm behind his back, and he still couldn’t make sense of what this sharp-eyed woman in period dress was saying.
No—he couldn’t make sense of the situation itself.
Of why he was suddenly in a dark forest.
Even as her shout faded behind him, he dredged through his memory for a moment…
“Aagh!”
“You’re planning to keep your mouth shut?”
Damn it.
She twisted harder.
He needed to remember…
He needed to remember…
* * *
There was not a single ray of sunlight in the basement.
Only the drone of a ventilation fan filled the air.
The bookshelves were packed tight.
There were academic texts on chemistry, physics, earth science, biology, pharmacy, weaponry, and math, as well as novels, comics, and original foreign editions that couldn’t be translated.
Not a speck of dust rested on the books.
They looked as if they’d been read dozens, maybe hundreds of times; the covers were polished smooth.
Rustle.
On the sofa, the blanket twitched.
A human-sized silhouette rolled over.
Thud.
The book that had covered the man’s face fell to the floor.
A wuxia novel.
The last book he had been reading before falling asleep.
He picked it up, set it on the desk, and sat up.
A familiar motion.
Ordinary everyday routine.
He climbed off the sofa and headed for the kitchen.
Creak.
He opened a drawer.
He lifted out a large pot, looking for all the world like he was preparing an ordinary meal.
Then he took out a flask.
And then a container.
On the white label, black letters stood out starkly:
EPHEDRINE
Baek Wontae.
Thirty years old.
An utterly forgettable face, the kind you could see anywhere.
The only unusual thing about him was that he held both bachelor’s and master’s degrees in chemistry from a prestigious university.
And—
He was the maker of a new synthetic drug called Fuego.
Fuego.
Using a new synthesis method, it could be mass-produced with ease.
Its addictiveness was far stronger than any existing narcotic.
It had all started in nothing more than the kitchen of a cramped studio apartment.
What he made in that kitchen soon swallowed South Korea whole, then spread outward into the world.
“Recently, reports of abuse involving the new drug ‘Fuego’ centered around Daehak-ro…”
“Member A of the idol group has been accused of habitual use of ‘Fuego’…”
“Last night in downtown Seoul, a driver high on ‘Fuego’ struck and killed a pedestrian…”
The news was full of praise.
Addiction, accidents, death.
The fallout was enormous, and the police and prosecutors were kept busy trying to put out the fire.
Baek Wontae was different.
All of it filled him with delight.
Just as the drug’s name suggested, he was setting the world on fire.
Money? Power?
Meaningless.
The reason he did this.
Proof of existence.
Back in the old days, all he’d known was contempt and humiliation.
Now things were different.
Everyone was trying to find him, cheering for his drugs, despairing because of them.
That was sweeter than money.
Fuego wasn’t just a drug.
It was ego—his second self.
He stretched at the workbench, loosening his body.
He tightened the strap of his gas mask.
Beside him, a tablet was already playing.
A news press conference appeared on the screen.
-This is Kim Gyeong-su, chief prosecutor of the Supreme Prosecutors’ Office Narcotics and Organized Crime Division…
Kim Gyeong-su.
Maybe everything had started with him.
-The Narcotics and Organized Crime Division will do everything in its power to eradicate the new drug “Fuego,” which is causing social chaos.
Tap.
Baek Wontae swiped the screen and turned on the music.
Frank Sinatra’s My Way.
Humming along, he reduced the solution.
The liquid in the glass vessel bubbled and changed color.
He was several steps in, just one last purification away—when Baek Wontae’s gaze suddenly shifted to the side.
The CCTV monitor.
Figures in the thermal camera’s grainy image, it being a black night outside.
Burly men moved through the alley as if feeling their way blind.
Careful, but purposeful.
That’s…
An involuntary sigh escaped him.
“Ah…”
He had always stayed alert, always been careful.
That habit had sharpened his sense for danger.
And now that sense was screaming at him.
Run.
He snatched off the gas mask and shoved his cap low over his face.
Then he grabbed the bag holding the packets of Fuego.
His heart thudded wildly.
He had avoided being traced through the dark web, encrypted messengers, and cryptocurrency, but his opponent was the state investigative apparatus.
In the end, they always caught up to your tail.
But Baek Wontae wasn’t the kind of man who left things sloppy.
The back passage was empty.
He made straight for the rear door.
He killed his footsteps, opened it, and slipped outside.
Everything around him was quiet.
Only parked cars lined the street.
Now, all he had to do was run.
Just as a breath of relief tried to slip out—
What…!
The doors of the parked cars opened, and burly men spilled out.
Baek Wontae lowered his gaze.
They haven’t spotted me yet, right?
They couldn’t have seen him come out the back door.
He jammed the cap deeper over his head and turned his steps naturally, casually.
Like any passerby, he walked on as if nothing were wrong.
But in the reflection of a roadside mirror, he saw them.
They were following.
An old alley.
A route he’d planned dozens of times in case exactly this happened.
Now it was finally time to use it.
He pulled out his phone and pretended to make a call.
“Yeah, I’m almost there. You said you arrived? Got it, I’ll be there in a minute.”
His pace quickened.
Sure enough, the men behind him picked up speed too.
As he passed the mirror, a voice rang out from behind.
“Excuse me.”
He bolted into a side alley.
“Stop right there!”
Shouts thundered at his back.
He pushed through the crowd and ran between the buildings.
Cold sweat streamed down him.
Hah, hah…! My heart’s going to burst…!
It felt as if his breath were tearing his throat apart.
But he couldn’t stop his legs.
After running for what felt like forever—
Ghh!
Creak!
The instant he straightened up, the sight ahead froze him in place.
At the end of the alley he’d thought would be deserted, police were already waiting in formation.
“Hah…”
His eyes wavered.
He tried to find another way, but the exits were already blocked on all sides.
There was only one option.
The building.
Without hesitation, he sprinted inside.
Taking the stairs two at a time, then three, he heard shouts exploding from below.
“He’s going up to the roof!”
“Call it in to the others!”
Bang!
The rooftop door flew open.
Baek Wontae ran straight for the railing.
The rail was broken, half-gone.
On the other side, only a short distance away, was the roof of another low building.
Thud! Bang!
The police burst in after him.
“Stop! You’re under emergency arrest for manufacturing narcotics!”
But Baek Wontae’s legs never once hesitated.
“Get him!”
The instant the officers rushed forward—
He kicked off the end of the railing and threw himself into the air.
The night wind brushed his face.
It would have been nice if he’d landed cleanly on the opposite roof, but—
Clank!
The bag snagged on a jagged iron spike sticking out from the broken railing.
The symbol of his proof of existence had grabbed his ankle.
He could have dropped the bag and gone on without it.
But he couldn’t do that.
Fuego.
The proof that a nobody like him had set the whole world on fire.
Letting the police get their hands on it was an humiliation he couldn’t stomach.
That obsession tightened around his throat.
“Ha—”
A hollow laugh slipped out.
In the night sky, a single star gleamed coldly.
Below it, his body hung in midair.
Riiiip!
The bag tore open.
Fuego scattered as it fell like rain.
And so did Baek Wontae.
He dropped headfirst, the asphalt rushing closer and closer.
The instant the world overturned—
He shut his eyes.
Thud.
He hit the ground face-first.
…Is this the end?
Was this death?
But almost at once, something felt wrong.
Thud?
Crash, crunch—
It hadn’t sounded like that.
And he didn’t feel the crushing impact of his body breaking apart.
Did I already make it to the underworld…?
What pressed against his skin wasn’t the hard bite of asphalt.
It was damp, rough, and scratchy.
The smell of pine needles was musty, yet strangely refreshing.
Unease prickled through him, and he curled his fingers.
What he touched was thin fiber.
He gave it the slightest bit of strength—
Snip.
It broke easily.
Grass.
Only then did he open his eyes.
He lifted his head, and dirt fell from his face.
He looked around, dazed.
It was still night, unquestionably so.
But everything around him had changed completely.
There were no lights.
No concrete buildings, no cars, no police in pursuit.
Only moonlight leaking through the branches, faintly illuminating the world.
A forest.
A dense, endless forest packed with trees and undergrowth.
He sat up and brushed the dirt from himself.
He was bewildered.
Was this the afterlife?
If there was a hell, he’d thought he’d be sent there, but there was no fire, no brimstone.
It was just a forest.
No different from the one he’d once climbed carrying a rope.
“…Tsk.”
He clicked his tongue at the bad memory.
No matter how far he looked, he was alone.
For a moment, he wondered if he hadn’t died after all.
“Did the chemical vapor leak through the gas mask?”
Maybe the police bursting in had all been a hallucination too.
He pinched his cheek.
The face that had been pressed against the cold ground just moments ago still felt strangely woozy.
So he opened his palm, and—
Smack!
He slapped himself hard.
“Ah…”
It hurt.
It wasn’t a hallucination.
Every sensation was vivid.
And that brought him to one conclusion.
“I’m alive.”
He had fallen from a rooftop and suddenly ended up in a forest.
An impossible, unreal thing he couldn’t understand.
For now, all he could do was keep walking.
“If I walk long enough, something will show up.”
He pushed through the branches and kept going.
Without moonlight, it would have been so dark he couldn’t have seen an inch in front of him.
He walked for a long time like that.
“Huh…?”
In the distance, he saw a light.
It wasn’t bright, but it flickered orange.
He headed toward it.
How long had he walked before he finally understood what it was?
“That’s a tiled-roof house…”
Was there a place like this in Korea?
At any rate, if there was a light, there must be people.
If I meet someone, I can figure something out.
Just as he was about to take another step—
Swish—
A sharp sensation touched his neck.
His whole body froze.
He didn’t need to see it to know.
That sharpness was a blade.
There hadn’t been a single sound.
Shouldn’t I have heard footsteps on the dirt?
His thoughts stopped, and his survival instincts screamed to life.
The moment he lifted both hands to show he meant no resistance—
“Don’t move.”
A woman’s voice.
In an instant, his arm was bent and his body slammed to the ground.
“Aagh!”
He screamed from the pain.
“Keep quiet.”
She made the demand while twisting his arm even further.
He forcibly turned his head to look behind him.
It was too dark to see clearly.
Even so, he could tell she had a refined face.
And a strength that didn’t match it.
Judging by the hand gripping his wrist, she was slender and not very big.
But even taking into account that he himself was no strongman, this was crossing a line.
It felt like a boulder was pressing him down.
What was even stranger was her clothing.
It was an old-fashioned Eastern outfit, wildly different from Baek Wontae’s white tracksuit.
She looks like she walked straight out of a historical drama.
That was the thought that rose in his mind.
Wait. Is this even Korea?
A voice stabbed into the back of his skull.
“Tell me the truth. Are you a spy sent by the Dang Clan?”
What the hell is she talking about…!
Dang Clan?
He’d heard that somewhere before.
But a spy?
He stayed silent, and she twisted his arm into an even more unnatural angle.
“Aagh!”
“You’re planning to keep your mouth shut?”
* * *
That was as far as the memory went.
For now, he needed to do something about this twisted arm.
“I-I’ll talk… Just my arm, please….”
She pressed down harder.
He couldn’t even scream properly anymore; his head felt like it might split from the blood rushing to it.
“You’re trying to lower my guard and counterattack. That kind of cheap trick won’t work on me.”
“Counterattack? I have no idea what you’re talking about—Dang Clan, spy, whatever. I’m Baek Wontae. I opened my eyes and found myself in this forest.”
“You opened your eyes and found yourself here? You expect me to believe—”
“I know, it sounds unbelievable. I don’t believe it either. You’ve got me pinned anyway, so what could I possibly do? At least tell me where this place is.”
Bombarded with question and answer, the woman finally sounded flustered.
“Wh-where i…”
She trailed off, then suddenly realized something.
Her eyes widened as she shouted, “You’re trying to deceive me and send a signal about our location. Have you learned telepathic transmission? Report your companions’ numbers and positions!”
This made absolutely no sense.