Even Choices Regress
Even choices regress…
"Gang-cheol! Come eat! You're meeting that agent uncle today, right? You'll be late!"
His mother's voice from outside the door shattered his reverie.
Not the weary, aged voice of his previous life, but a bright, youthful one.
Ma Gang-cheol drew a short breath toward the boy in the mirror.
"Hoo. All right. Calm down."
He let go of the cheek he had been pinching and opened the wardrobe.
He pulled out his favorite blue tracksuit and put it on. The design was hopelessly outdated, yet in this era it was the height of fashion.
He looked into the mirror once more and muttered as if casting a spell on himself.
Ma Gang-cheol. Get a grip. You're thirty-five. Not a kid. Don't let your emotions run wild.
He opened the door and stepped into the living room.
His young mother was setting the table. The savory aroma of soybean-paste stew stabbed his nose.
He wanted to run over and throw his arms around her right then, but he forced himself to hold back.
Food wasn't the issue now. The hour of destiny was approaching.
"Mom, I'm heading out first. I can't be late for the appointment, so I'm going to loosen up on the way."
"Oh my, you have to eat something! At least one spoonful!"
"I'll buy you something delicious when I get back. Really delicious! I'll even let you cut the steak later!"
Gang-cheol sat at the entrance and tightly laced his sneakers.
His hands moved with the grim resolve of a general marching to war.
"I'm off!"
Watching her son's back as he burst through the front door, his mother tilted her head.
"Why is he so intense today? Like he's heading off to a battlefield…"
Out on the street, Gang-cheol drew a deep breath.
The air of 2013 filling his lungs to the brim. Even the exhaust fumes smelled sweet—so strange and so longed-for.
The streets brimmed with life.
Schoolgirls in baggy pants giggled as they passed, and in front of the phone shop "Amazing Girls – I'm Too Dazzling" blasted at full volume. Even the flyer stuck to the glass—[Latest Flip Phone Free!]—felt welcome.
And the prices! A roll of gimbap for a thousand won, bus fare only a few hundred. Everything was exactly as he remembered from the best years of his life.
Gang-cheol fished in his pocket. The solid grip of a flip phone met his fingers.
He pulled it out and checked the date and time once more.
2013. 05. 12. PM 1:30
"Still thirty minutes left."
The hotel where they were to meet was three subway stops away.
Plenty of time. If he ran, he could be there in ten minutes.
Gang-cheol adjusted the bag on his shoulder. Inside were his passport and the invitation from Real Madrid's youth team. It was no mere scrap of paper. It was the single lifeline that could sever the endless cycle of poverty and defeat.
This time is different. This time it's real.
He started walking.
His steps felt light as feathers.
In his previous life, thirty-five-year-old Ma Gang-cheol would limp after five minutes because fluid filled his knees. On rainy days he couldn't sleep without painkillers.
But now?
The spring in the soles of his feet against the pavement, the taut readiness of his calf muscles.
With every breath his heart pumped vigorously, flooding his body with vitality.
"Haha…"
A laugh slipped out before he could stop it.
Had being healthy always been this joyful?
He hummed a tune under his breath. Passersby stared, but he didn't care. Right now he felt as though he owned the entire world.
Yet that happiness did not last long.
Familiar streets. Familiar buildings.
And far ahead, the traffic light at the intersection.
His heart began to race faster and faster. Like an ominous drumbeat—thump, thump, thump—it hammered against his ribs.
The crossroads of fate.
The "Devil's Crosswalk" that had once split his life into heaven and hell was drawing near.
Calm down. You're thirty-five. An adult who's been through every hardship under the sun.
Gang-cheol swallowed dryly.
Cold sweat beaded on his palms.
He repeated the words to himself like a hypnotic chant.
Just walk past. Nothing will happen. I only have to go my own way.
Cross that crosswalk and the subway station appears.
The moment he passes through the turnstile, his future changes.
The green grass of Spain. The roar of the Bernabéu. Hundreds of millions in salary. A life of swaggering around in a Mercedes.
And above all, the future where he could shout to the mother who had worn herself out washing dishes in restaurants, "Mom, you don't have to work anymore."
I can do this. Just close my eyes and walk past. This life is for me alone.
Gang-cheol pulled his cap low. He fixed his gaze on the ground.
Like a racehorse, he vowed to look only forward. He would not look around. No matter who was in danger, no matter what happened, it was none of his business. He would neither hear nor see it.
He reached the crosswalk.
The traffic light glowed red.
The wait that normally lasted less than a minute stretched into eternity.
Gang-cheol stamped his feet impatiently, waiting for the signal to change.
Then it came.
Cutting through the peaceful noise of the road, the clear laughter of children rang out.
"Kyarr! Poppy, come with me! Wait!"
Gang-cheol's shoulders jerked.
His heart plummeted.
It was the voice preserved in his memory, the one he had heard in thousands of nightmares.
Don't look. Don't turn your head.
Reason commanded it, but human instinct could not be denied.
As if drawn by a magnet, his gaze swung around.
On the opposite sidewalk, a little girl of about five in a pink dress was playing with a puppy.
A radiant expression. Pure eyes still untouched by the world's grime.
And in the child's hand was a silver balloon filled with helium.
No… please…
Gang-cheol screamed inside.
Please. Don't let go. Hold on tight. Please don't let go of that string.
But fate cruelly repeated the same repertoire. It felt as though God had designed this moment solely to test him.
The instant the child waved her hand, the balloon slipped free.
Riding the wind, it drifted toward the roadway.
"Woof!"
The clueless puppy Poppy dashed after the balloon onto the road.
"No, Poppy! It's dangerous!"
Without a second's hesitation the child stepped onto the roadway to catch her dog.
The light was red. Cars were racing past.
At the same moment, a deafening roar that threatened to split eardrums came from far away.
BAAAAAANG—!
A 25-ton dump truck, ignoring the left-turn signal and speeding, charged forward.
That massive hunk of steel opened its maw like a monster and hurtled toward the child.
SCREEEEECH—!
Tires screamed against the asphalt, but the law of inertia was merciless. The truck would not stop.
Time seemed to freeze.
The screams of the people around him vanished.
Only the child, the truck, and himself remained in the world.
Inside Gang-cheol's mind two futures were weighed on the scales.
Stand still. Look away.
The child will die or be injured. It may become a lifelong trauma. It may haunt his dreams.
But he lives. His legs remain intact, and he will sign the contract as planned and become the "Emperor of Football."
The reason he regressed. The life he so desperately wanted. The success he had yearned for while dying in misery—it is right in front of him.
Dive in. Save her.
The child will live. But him?
His legs will be crushed again. He will once more endure that hellish rehabilitation, poverty, and contempt.
No—this time he might die. The truck's speed looked even faster than in his previous life.
The answer was already decided.
Only a madman would choose B. Anyone could see A was the correct answer.
Gang-cheol squeezed his eyes shut.
Turn your head. Don't look. You're thirty-five. Stay cold. My legs are worth more than that child's life. The future of Korean football is at stake! I have the right to be happy too!
And I already saved her once, didn't I? That's enough…
Reason was screaming those words.
His mind finished the cold calculation.
He planted his soles firmly on the ground. He ordered his muscles never to move.
But.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
His heart began to beat of its own accord.
That damned instinct that had thrown his body at the ball since he was five.
That stupid courage that headed the ball instead of dodging it.
And above all, that foolishly good nature that could not turn away from a life flickering out before his eyes.
That was the essence of the human being called Ma Gang-cheol.
"Damn it… damn it! Goddamn it!"
Curses burst from his lips.
His legs had already escaped the control of his brain.
Spain? Ballon d'Or? A ten-billion-won salary?
What good was any of that when that kid was about to be crushed to death! A person was dying!
Tadadak—!
Gang-cheol's body shot forward like an arrow.
The explosive speed of his prime. In an instant he crossed the road.
The truck's massive grille loomed right in front of his nose. The driver's terror-stricken face appeared in slow motion.
Too late…!
There was no avoiding it. If he pushed the child, he would be hit.
It was a guaranteed angle of death.
Gang-cheol clenched his teeth. Terror wrapped his entire body, yet he did not stop.
He launched himself, scooped the child into his arms, and rolled hard toward the sidewalk.
"Get clear!"
He shoved the child away.
But the truck was too fast, and his legs were still on the road.
KWAANG—!
A horrific impact flipped the world upside down.
The crushing weight of the massive tire grinding his legs. The sound of bones turning to powder.
"Guaaaaah!"
Pain more terrible than in his previous life, as if it were tearing his soul apart, burned through his brain.
Gang-cheol tumbled across the asphalt.
He didn't need to check his legs to know.
Shattered. Again. No—this time it was worse.
"Haa… haa…"
The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
Through his blurring vision he saw the child on the sidewalk, wailing.
She was fine. Not a single hair harmed. The balloon had flown into the sky, but the child remained on the ground.
Seeing that, a strange relief rose instead of curses.
Ha… you pathetic bastard… ended up like this again… I knew it…
He couldn't stand how pathetic he was.
He had sworn that if he was reborn he would live selfishly.
Yet not even an hour had passed before he tossed that vow away like a worn-out shoe.
Genius? What a joke. Looks like I'm just fated to be a sucker my whole life.
Still… as long as she didn't die, it's fine. Better this than watching a kid die and having nightmares forever… this is easier on the heart…
His consciousness drifted farther and farther away.
Another ruined life. Should he just give up on this one?
Mom, I'm sorry. Your unfilial son is crying again. Spain… I'll have to go next life.
Just as Gang-cheol, resigned, was about to close his eyes—
Ding—!
You abandoned your own future and saved another.
With flickering eyes Gang-cheol stared into empty air.
A hallucination? Or a message from the reaper?
"What… the hell… is this…"
He squeezed out the last of his strength to mutter.
Then his head lolled, and he sank into deep darkness.
