Prologue: Seoul's Beautiful Night
Seoul's night is beautiful.
The skyline from the bridge glittered more dizzyingly than the subway cars on any evening commute. My body, though, trembled like a leaf in a storm.
Was it the cold night air? The soju I'd been knocking back by the bottle? Or was it simply because death was waiting just beyond the railing?
"Phew..."
I hooked both hands over the bridge rail. I could barely keep myself upright. Jump now and I'd drop cleanly into the cold water below. Even so, I regretted the soju still left in the bottle. Years spent drowning in drink, living on dependence—and somehow the half-empty bottle still felt like a waste. Or maybe it wasn't the soju I was clinging to. Maybe it was life itself.
What did it matter either way. My life was already ruined.
I tipped the bottle back. Only about seventeen percent alcohol, but drinking it like water with nothing to chase it sent a hot burn sliding down my throat. Gone. Three bottles. All of them empty. My body had stopped obeying me—whether from the cold or from the decision to die, I couldn't tell. My mind, though, was clearer than it had been in a long time. A drunkard's specialty, maybe. Or so I told myself.
I wanted to scream at the world. Open my mouth and, under the thin excuse of drunken rambling, shout from the top of this bridge. But after more than four years of this life, I couldn't find the courage.
"Phew—heh heh… heh heh heh…"
It was funny. So damn funny. Mid-twenties. Anyone who saw me would laugh—a green kid talking like this. Still, I couldn't stop. Even I knew what a complete idiot I'd been. Put kindly, a good person. Put honestly, a sucker. That was me.
Isn't it funny? That one woman could wreck an entire life.
Until I became an adult, I'd been ordinary enough. All-boys middle school, all-boys high school, hanging out with the neighborhood kids—a normal guy. Was that the problem? The first love that found me at twenty became the principal architect of my ruin.
"Is something troubling you?"
"…?!"
The voice at my shoulder nearly sent me over the edge right then. I hadn't sensed anyone approaching. Drunk or not, failing to notice a person standing right beside you was another matter entirely. My throat locked. What did it matter now.
"…Go away."
"You're going to die, aren't you?"
A woman. I couldn't make out her face properly, but the voice left no doubt. The notable thing was her height—taller than me, and I stood in the mid-seventies. I had to look up. A volleyball player? I didn't care what she did for a living. I was a man about to die. Stranger or not, I didn't want to plant guilt in her.
"I won't say anything. Just go."
"If you're going to die anyway, why not tell me your story."
"…You're not going to stop me?"
She was strange. Normally, if someone was about to jump, you'd tell them not to. You'd try to pour a little hope into them. But she seemed almost as if she wanted to watch someone die. Instinctive unease crawled up my spine—whether because I lived on alcohol and flinched from conversation, or because some deeper instinct whispered she might not be an ordinary person. I didn't know which. I stopped thinking about it. What was the point of agonizing and doubting when I was about to die.
The thought settled something in me. Maybe her next words helped.
"On your way out, unburden yourself. I'll listen. Go on."
"Once you've heard it all, leave. I want to be alone."
"Alright."
I let out a long breath. I looked pathetic enough already—an idiot, and too much of an idiot at that. A hollow laugh hovered at the corner of my mouth and then scattered. Where to begin.
Right.
"She was beautiful."
Quietly, I told her my story. Right before dying, with everything already finished—stories I could only understand now that I was free of that woman's hands.
"Why someone like her would love someone like me. It was so suspicious the entire time we dated. She was beautiful enough to stand next to a celebrity."
"I see."
Was it because it was first love? Everything was clumsy and hard. There was more pain in the relationship than love. Later I learned they called it gaslighting. A funny word, but it felt like my head was clearing—that it hadn't been my fault, that she had been the one doing the damage. Society told me so. By then, though, my life was already wrecked. Four years gone. Dependent on alcohol. The sight of a woman made me flinch. When I finally looked around, every relationship I had was shattered—friends, family, all of it.
"Pretty pathetic, right?"
"Yes."
"Haha—isn't that a little fast?"
Facing death, something in me had shifted. At least I could tell this casually to the woman standing next to me. Even saying it out loud, it sounded pathetic.
"At first I loved her. Ah, I must be lacking. I must be worthless. She blamed my inadequacies inside the love itself—and I turned around and blamed myself for it."
"It was your first time."
"…First. Yeah. First… Immature. Full of mistakes. But did it have to be her?"
The end of the story was coming into view. Over four years we broke up three times. Still I let her play me. Still I blamed myself. Life turned barren. I met her financial demands under the name of love. Like a sucker, I did nothing but idiotic things.
My lips opened and closed. Too pathetic to say with my own mouth. Then I spoke the climax—the thing that finally broke me, and finally set me free.
"I knew she was cheating. Then one day she said it to my face."
"What did she say."
"She was transferring. Openly. That she loved another man now—not me."
Breathing got harder. Recalling it, my heart felt like it was being wrung. The green soju bottle tumbled into the Han River. My body shook the way a beast shakes when it meets a predator. I made sounds, but they wouldn't connect.
"Bu…t. I—like an i-idiot… clung to her. Don't—don't go…"
"Oh dear."
"Guh—hoo—hoo… But th-that woman… that bitch…"
I lifted my head. Seoul's beautiful nightscape wavered. Half the world was wet and rippling in the water.
"She… played with me. S-said the three of us should date…"
"Three people?"
Everything that had merely been hard when it was two of us became days of agony so severe those earlier times felt like nothing. Two men and one woman? This wasn't a romance novel. What the hell was this. This was twenty-first-century South Korea.
She grew more vicious. She started weighing me against him—catching every little action, saying he was better, I was worse. Like a mother comparing you to some perfect kid named Cheolsu. When she suggested the three of us go on a trip together, I nearly lost my mind. And we actually went. I was truly insane.
"So… a-after half a year, we broke up."
"……"
"Hahaha! P-pretty pathetic… right? Me?"
"You're a coward."
"…A coward?"
The hollow laughter stopped. The word hit the center of me. I couldn't speak.
"I understand. But aren't you protecting yourself with the defense mechanism of self-blame."
"……"
"You don't want anyone to discover how pathetic you are, so you say it first. Don't you?"
She was right. My mouth closed tighter. Shame flooded through me; my cheeks burned. I wanted to snap at her—but I didn't want to become the kind of person who couldn't admit a correct statement, so I didn't.
"Ha, haha… You're right."
"I'm not attacking you. Don't take it so hard."
"You've already stabbed me plenty. And that's what you say?"
"Heh. True enough."
"…Did you just laugh?"
The sound of it made something itch in my chest. A woman with a dry tone and no readable emotion had smiled.
A brief silence.
"I—I've said it. If you don't want to see something ugly, leave."
"Something ugly? Are you going to hit me."
"I'm going to jump in the river. Life's been rough."
"You're a kind person."
"I'm sick of hearing that too. I've got two hundred million in debt—I can't give you money either."
I thought of the soju that had vanished into the water and smacked my lips. Maybe a few drops were left somewhere. After staring a long while into the dark current, her voice came again.
"How about living a selfish life."
"Would that even work?"
"I'll let you live the opposite life. One without a single burden."
"Pfft—what, are you some kind of god?"
"Something like that."
"You're completely drunk. Me too."
No matter how hard things had gotten, I hadn't reached hallucinations and voices. It must be time to go.
"There's another world. An easier life, I suppose."
"Is that possible?"
"Yes. Just turn on a camera and stream, and thousands will pour in every month."
"What—are you going to make me a woman?"
"If you want?"
TS, was it called? Knowing it was nonsense, how nice would it be if it were real. Around the time I felt pathetic for seriously considering it, I refused.
"Ugh, no thanks. I like being a man."
"That's fortunate."
"Huh?"
I asked back at the word. Even knowing the whole conversation was absurd. The woman who had listened to my life spoke of a deal—and I listened seriously again.
"It'll be similar to reality, but different. Roles. Yes—think of it as the roles being reversed, and it'll make more sense."
"What does that mean?"
"Men like women. Women like men. A place where ideas of chastity, and social roles themselves, are reversed."
"Pfft. Weird world."
"Women go to the military. Men are physically weak. That kind of world."
My mouth twisted. Did such a place really exist? Deep down, something in me bit. But learned helplessness held me back.
"Sounds nice, but… I'm exhausted. Just hearing the 'wo' in woman makes me shudder."
"It'll be fine. They'll come running even if you just sit still."
"…Why make me that kind of offer?"
The question rose. Why me?
"Because I think you'll do well. You seem like a suitable person."
"……"
"I promise you an easy life."
"An easy life…"
Was it because I was so tired? An easy life. The thrill those words carried filled my chest. How wonderful would that be.
"Alright then."
"I look forward to working with you."
Suddenly my body lifted. Not telekinesis. Not some special energy. Just the woman taller than me picking me up—the way you'd lift a child—both hands under my armpits.
"Wh-what strength…!"
"You'll have to get used to it. That's the kind of world it is."
"Ah…"
In that instant I couldn't help panicking—because she threw me. Straight out past the railing, toward the cold river water. I squeezed my eyes shut, and deep darkness came.
It didn't take long.