Lock On

The emcee's closing remarks wrapped up the 2012 entrance ceremony. "With that, we conclude the 2012 freshman orientation. Please follow the student council seniors from each department as they guide you out."

The sound of thousands of chairs scraping against the floor flooded the auditorium. Amid the crowd flowing out like a receding tide, I remained rooted to my seat, completely dazed. The blue letters seared into my retinas squeezed my heart in a vise.

…Are they seriously telling me to die?

My mind went blank. Just minutes earlier, in a corner where the Business Administration freshmen had gathered, I had spotted my past self—wearing those tacky horn-rimmed glasses, dozing off like an idiot. I nearly bolted upright with a scream.

This wasn't some doppelganger situation where simply seeing it would trigger deletion. It was a blatant threat to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wipe my entire existence from the universe. What kind of insane joke was this?

It wasn't as if I'd chosen this body. I'd simply stumbled upon it in the depths of despair right before death. Yet these blue letters were holding my life hostage and hurling the most humiliating, grotesque "mission" imaginable at me.

They say there's no paradise in running away…

The result of throwing myself from a cliff at the dead end of my life was sleeping with my own past self? And in this womanly body I had personally designed, no less?

A solemn line from some manga protagonist flashed through my mind, but it was instantly drowned out by raw, instinctive resentment and revulsion.

No, this is way too far…!!

That famous line a detective in a movie once spat at his colleagues echoed inside me like a scream. Whoever designed this damned System had not only locked my soul inside this narrow, feverish female body—they were now shoving me forward, forcing me to use that very body as a tool to be ravished by "myself."

It was revolting. At the same time, looking at "Baek Gangho" sitting over there made something in my chest ache with a stifling tightness. That guy must be wary of every woman on the planet right now. Back in the days when, instead of dating, I'd been desperately cramming English vocabulary to try for the KATUSA program. Of course, the outcome had been a spectacular failure followed by assignment to a frontline infantry division, but at least the old me had been an iron wall who dodged women at all costs until military service.

For someone like that, the idea that I—who now inhabited another person's body—had to approach him and entwine our flesh… This went beyond seduction or strategy. It felt like having my human dignity shredded to pieces.

The very notion that my past and present lives were being mashed together and forced to wallow in the mud for someone's amusement sent chills of disgust down my spine. Yet the four letters blinking on my retina—"permanent erasure"—were far colder and more absolute than any moral qualms I possessed.

"Cha Seolah? Are you okay? Do you feel sick?"

The worried voice beside me snapped me back to reality. One of the student council seniors who'd been sneaking glances at the curve of my chest finally saw his chance and leaned in.

"Ah… Yes. I'm fine. I just felt dizzy for a moment."

I answered on autopilot and moved mechanically. The entire way out of the auditorium, following the group, my eyes tracked only the direction in which the Business Administration crowd had vanished.

The campus tour, billed as school tradition, was pure torture. As we walked down the steep slope from the main auditorium, past the central building, and all the way to the library, I drifted along half-conscious, swept up in the crowd.

…I never thought I'd walk these paths again.

This was the campus I had trudged across with growing disgust for nearly a decade while my graduation kept getting delayed. The place where I'd sworn, while grinding through job applications and civil service exams, that I would never return. Yet returning to the past had erased even those hateful years as if they'd never happened.

The location remained identical, but my body and point of view had been completely reversed. Even when we stopped in the middle of the main avenue for a headcount, I couldn't find the right moment to slip away. Those with prior commitments left one by one after the first event, but I remained tethered by the four letters "permanent erasure" in the sudden quest window, following along in a daze.

At least there was one small comfort: unlike those guys whispering over there, I no longer had to worry about military service.

"Junior? Are you sure you're not sick? Your face is terribly pale."

The student council senior tried again. I was shaking my head in disgust at the blue letters hovering on my retina when he spoke.

"Ah, no. I'm fine."

With that answer, the group headed toward the infamous steep slope known as Panting Hill. I took off the coat I'd put back on after leaving the ceremony hall, draped it over one arm, and began the climb. With every step, the heavy sway of my breasts inside the dress reminded me of a weight I had never known as a man, pressing down on my shoulders and back.

"Wow, she's seriously incredible. Her figure is insane up close."

"Look at that skin. She looks like she belongs at a foreign university. Why come here?"

The whispers from my classmate Do Taehoon and some nameless others tickled my ears like background radio noise. To the eyes of a thirty-five-year-old uncle, Do Taehoon was the textbook example of a girl-crazy guy. The tall, decent-looking one beside him—Kang Jinwoo—seemed completely uninterested in the entrance ceremony and already thinking about the PC bang, but I could tell Do Taehoon was only using him as an excuse while constantly looking for a chance to talk to me.

That was when it happened.

"Hi? I don't think we've met. You're Cha Seolah… right?"

A short female student with bright, sparkling eyes slid up beside me.

"Uh… yeah."

Startled by the sudden approach, I answered clumsily. My mind belonged to a middle-aged man, yet the person in front of me was a twenty-year-old female college student. My brain short-circuited trying to decide whether to treat her as the opposite sex and keep my distance, or to respond warmly as a fellow female classmate. This strange identity confusion immediately produced an awkward, bashful reaction.

The porcelain-white skin and cat-like eyes I had crafted must have transformed that embarrassment into an aura of "mysterious charisma."

"Wow, you look like a total ice beauty but you're actually really shy? I'm Choi Suyeon. Let's get along well."

"Whoa, Choi Suyeon. You two already hitting it off?"

"What the hell, Do Taehoon? Weren't you going to the PC bang?"

"What's the big deal? We're participating in the department event like this, right?"

I was almost impressed by the sheer thickness of Do Taehoon's skin as he jumped into the conversation at the perfect moment. Maybe that level of shamelessness really was required if you wanted to get close to the opposite sex.

"Seolah, you're… twenty, right? You didn't retake the exam or anything, so you're not my noona?"

Noona…

"Uh… yeah."

At least according to my ID, we were the same age.

"Same age, so casual speech is fine? You've looked out of it since earlier. After this, want to grab something delicious? Jinwoo and I know a really good spot."

Do Taehoon smiled slyly, using Kang Jinwoo as a shield. But when I simply stared back with a blank expression, he seemed to decide he'd been rejected and beat a hasty retreat.

"If you have plans, we can go next time."

Not wanting to push anyone away right from the start, I turned my gaze ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠slightly toward Choi Suyeon instead of answering. Using today's newly acquired same-sex friend as a shield seemed like the smartest move.

"What do you think?"

At my sudden question, Choi Suyeon's eyes widened. And just like that, the rest of the schedule was decided.

Leaving the chatting group behind, I subtly turned my head to look at the Business Administration building visible in the distance. Somewhere over there was the "most awkward shield" I absolutely had to target right now.

After the department tour came a light after-party. In my Baek Gangho days I would have escaped long ago, but with the naturally sociable Choi Suyeon linking arms with me and dragging me along, I somehow ended up seated in front of a sizzling grill at a meat restaurant.

Or perhaps the instincts of this Cha Seolah body had pulled me here first.

"Nice to meet everyone."

It wasn't as large as the massive freshman welcome party coming up, but the gathering of remaining classmates was lively. The atmosphere didn't force alcohol on anyone, which was a relief. Since I had no idea how weak this body was to liquor, I only touched my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lips to the glass during toasts. I was terrified of blacking out and throwing a tantrum about heading to the old study room near campus instead of the house in Seongsu-dong.

A memory suddenly surfaced. Fourteen years ago, I'd received the additional acceptance notice late and couldn't secure a room in time. So on entrance ceremony day—today—I had temporarily unpacked at a shabby study room near school. If I walked just one more alley from this restaurant, that place would be right there. I didn't even need to go all the way to the business building. At this hour, my past self was probably escaping the stuffy room to smoke a cigarette somewhere in the alley.

Then Do Taehoon, seated beside me, grilled meat and casually spoke up.

"Seolah, you've been spacing out since earlier. If you're not drinking, want me to order cider?"

"No, it's okay. I'm going to step out for some air."

I stood up. Do Taehoon, who had been hovering near the entrance watching for his chance, sprang up like a jack-in-the-box.

"Huh? I was just thinking about a cigarette myself. Let's go together."

As we walked out side by side, teasing jeers erupted from the classmates still inside.

"Ooh~ Do Taehoon! Already making your move?"

"You two, is today day one?"

Do Taehoon blushed and waved his hands, shouting "N-no, it's not!" but an irrepressible smile lingered at the corners of his mouth. I ignored the commotion and stepped out into the cold night air. The indifferent expression created by Cha Seolah's features proved an excellent shield in moments like this.

In the alley beside the restaurant, Do Taehoon pulled out a cigarette pack and asked, "…You don't smoke by any chance, do you? Want one?"

I stared at the cigarette in his hand for a moment. In my Baek Gangho days I'd been a heavy smoker, but injecting nicotine into this clear, pure body somehow felt like a sin. Above all, cigarettes simply didn't suit this body.

I looked at his hand, then shook my head.

"I'm good. I don't smoke. I was thinking of buying some ice cream. My stomach feels a little heavy."

"Ice cream? Then ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'll go with—"

"It's fine. I'll buy it and bring some back. What do you want, Taehoon?"

Surprised by my unexpected kindness, Do Taehoon blushed and nodded vigorously. "Then anything with chocolate!"

Leaving him behind, I walked deeper into the alley. If my memory was correct, passing behind the restaurant and climbing the hill just a little would bring me to it—the shabby study room where twenty-one-year-old me, who had received the additional acceptance notice late and failed to find proper housing, had temporarily unpacked.

I wonder if it's really still there.

Streetlights flickered with a humming mechanical buzz, and there it stood: the familiar brick building. And, just like a lie, a man was squatting at the entrance.

Tacky horn-rimmed glasses. A gray hoodie stained with sweat. One hand held a cheap lighter he'd gotten for free; the other fiddled with an unlit cigarette.

Baek Gangho.

At the crossroads where future memories and the system's bewildering guidance collided, I finally stood face to face with both my target and my fourteen-years-ago self.

He noticed me emerging from the darkness and froze. The stupid, dazed eyes typical of a socially awkward guy blinked at me from behind thick lenses.

I swallowed a dry chuckle as I looked at the blue letters floating across my vision. He really was here. That shabby, tacky guy was my lifeline.

"…Excuse me."

The unfamiliar, beautiful voice that left my lips shattered the silence.

The die had been cast. Now came the time to figure out how to complete this absurd mission.