Chapter 31
Terminally Ill, but It's Okay — Episode 31
A new week began.
True to my resolve from last night, I got up early and headed to the fitness center.
Back when I was Lee Do-hyeon, I'd been a fairly diligent gym rat, so the screech of equipment friction and the faintly sour smell of sweat felt oddly welcoming.
Should I just start by wrecking my chest?
I was approaching an empty machine, just about to unwrap the towel from around my neck, when it happened.
"Park Ha-yul. You work out in the mornings too?"
"Oh, hey."
Two familiar faces greeted me.
It was Baek Sa-young and Lee Dae-ho, already drenched in sweat.
Well, sure.......
Those two haunted the fitness center like resident ghosts, so calling this a coincidence was a bit of a stretch.
I answered as if it were nothing.
"Figured I'd start today."
"Ohh, what's this about?"
"Yeah? Then let's train together. Way better than going solo, trust me."
As someone who knew that lifting was surprisingly a team sport, it was an offer I couldn't refuse.
I was also curious about the training patterns of top-tier Superhuman Track students.
"I'd be glad......."
But the moment I saw the black shapes stacked behind them—
More precisely, the countless plates loaded onto their bars made me change my mind.
"......I'd love to, but I think I'll start on my own."
"Really? That's too bad. Still, if you ever need help, just say the word."
"Heh heh, just brace yourself. We'll get your body sorted out for you."
But seriously, were these guys insane?
One, three, ten...... thirty-kilo plates.
I couldn't even calculate the total.
Anyway, I was just about to seriously start working out again...... no, about to start, when—
"That can't be all the weight, right?"
"Nah, no way. That's probably their warm-up."
......Warm-up?
My hearing was annoyingly sharp, so I caught their murmuring all too clearly.
It kept nagging at me, so I had no choice.
I had to move somewhere quiet.
I fiddled with my phone for no reason, then got up from my seat.
"Hello."
* * *
Monday was the day for individual sparring class.
Since the course was designed around fighting Demonkin, it focused on one-on-one combat, with students frequently paired up to test their skills against each other.
However, up through week two, it doubled as orientation and theory class, so there were no special events.
I practiced Samjaegong while pretending to listen, then slipped out of the lecture hall first.
And so, trudging along—
I was dragging my trembling body back to the dorm in the aftermath of the morning workout.
The plaza in front of the main building, usually so quiet it felt almost reverent, had turned into an untimely marketplace.
-Hey there, juniors, how about the horseback riding club? Light riding, and the after-party is guaranteed. That's why the club's called "Unbridled Colt," right?
-Now, now, I fly solo. In that case, let me welcome you to the astronomy club "Andromeda." You should go stargazing with the opposite sex.
Ah, clubs.
It was already week three, so it was about time for promotional activities to start.
Clubs had a special place at Taehak.
There were close to two hundred of them, weren't there?
Registration was possible starting from sophomore year, and since clubs were the only link between seniors and juniors, they were just as active as at any ordinary university.
One club per student was mandatory, so I couldn't exactly opt out.
I'd already decided in advance which club to join.
"First, the field study club was a lock."
Joo A-rin, Baek Sa-young, Cheon Seo-yoon, Lee Dae-ho, and many other major Class A characters would join it, and every trip outside would drag them into major incidents.
That meant quests would come with it, so of course I had to make sure I was part of it.
"And......."
It would be a bit of a hassle, but I planned to join a few more.
The clubs I'd shortlisted were volunteer work, painting, and kendo.
Volunteer work was Baek Sa-young's extra club, painting was Joo A-rin's, and kendo was Cheon Seo-yoon's, so I couldn't afford to miss the episodes that unfolded in those places either.
"But three is a bit......."
No matter how I racked my brain, I couldn't find the time.
In the end, I decided to join only two: painting and kendo.
The volunteer club accepted one-day experience sign-ups, so it seemed like I could just tag along whenever necessary.
Now that I'd decided, there was no point dragging it out.
I moved to the plaza. The first thing I spotted was the kendo club tent, so I went inside.
"Excuse m......."
But the atmosphere felt off.
Ildoyangdan — only strong men survive.
All there was to see was a slogan scrawled as if with a thick brush, and beneath it, a single shaven-headed man sitting solemnly in a lotus position.
Then, sensing my presence, the man half-opened his eyes and asked,
"An applicant?"
"Yes?"
"Over there."
"......?"
"The application form is over there."
"Ah, okay."
I was a bit flustered by the curt, monosyllabic exchange, but once the original work came back to me, I quickly understood.
That shaven-headed guy was probably the president of the kendo club, Ildoyangdan.
His concept was something like a master of the sword, and later on he occasionally appeared as the one who taught the club's only female member, Cheon Seo-yoon, how to wield a blade.
He was practically a Taoist sage, a person of upright character, but his extreme terseness made conversation difficult—a major drawback.
"Here you go."
"This way."
"......Well, then."
He wasn't someone I needed to keep an eye on right now, so I dropped my application into the basket under the shaven-headed man's gaze and quietly left.
"Next......."
I glanced around, spotted the painting club booth, and headed over.
.......
But when I actually tried to go in, I felt a little strange.
"Painting, huh......."
I'd thought I'd left it behind completely when I stopped making art, yet here I was, running into it again under these circumstances.
It was almost like an ex-girlfriend.
It was the kind of love-hate relationship where things felt awkward, yet given an excuse, you still wanted to see her again at least once.......
But I couldn't blame anyone for it.
Because I was the one who'd stubbornly insisted that Yoo So-young, while she was agonizing over Joo A-rin's character concept, should make her a painter.
I wandered around for a while, then finally grabbed the door handle.
"There's no one I know here anyway, and I'm not going to be active in it, so what's the big deal."
I carefully opened the door. Bright lighting filled my vision, and a rich scent hit my nose.
"There's not much time left. Please start wrapping up."
"A-already?"
Unlike the kendo club, which was so dead that flies were buzzing around, the interior here was bustling with a flood of applicants.
Students sat in a circle around a somewhat youthful-looking female student who appeared to be the model—a scene I found quite familiar.
Figure drawing?
It was a sight I'd often seen at art prep academies, and I let out a small, involuntary laugh.
"Applicant?"
A female upperclassman approached and spoke to me.
When I nodded, the upperclassman looked troubled.
"Hmm, what should we do? As you can see, today's admission test has already started."
"How much time is left?"
"About thirty minutes. It might be better to come back tomorrow......."
"Could I just do it now?"
Thinking about visiting again tomorrow made me feel inexplicably reluctant.
Besides, I was planning to just sketch it roughly anyway.
"Well...... it's not impossible, but."
"I'll just draw as much as I can and turn it in."
"The test?"
Just as the upperclassman looked dumbfounded—
"What's going on?"
A rather elegant-looking beauty appeared and stepped between us.
Her long, wavy hair with a green tint was uncommon, so I recognized her immediately.
Jeong Ae-ri, president of the painting club Dodam.
She was the second daughter of the Jeong family of Aesthetics, a prestigious house renowned in the worlds of art and politics.
With her vast network and political acumen, she was the social butterfly of social butterflies, later rising to the position of student council president.
She'd been close with Joo A-rin since childhood, so the two were like sisters.
"Well, you see......."
As the senior explained the situation, Jeong Ae-ri's expression shifted moment by moment.
Then she looked at me with clear disapproval and turned away.
"Just give him a seat. It seems he came in without really knowing what kind of club 'Dodam' is."
As a fanatical devotee of art, she took immense pride in the painting club.
"Follow me."
The senior, who'd been forcing a bitter smile, guided me inside.
"You'd better hurry. Once the test ends, we're collecting the papers with no exceptions, so don't blame me."
I gave a light nod and sat down.
Thirty minutes, huh.
Time was tight, so I picked up a pencil first.
......Had it been three years?
The small scar between my thumb and index finger stood out more than usual today.
But whatever—it wasn't like I was submitting this anywhere. A simple figure drawing was honestly nothing.
Besides, since this club would be involved in a main episode in the near future, joining was absolutely essential.......
In the end, the pencil touched the white canvas.
I stole a few glances at the model's pose and face, then practically looked away.
Because if I stared too intently at even this, I felt like I'd end up giving it my all.......
I'd only captured a fleeting image, and my hand moved boldly without a moment's hesitation.
Where my hand passed, lines formed, and lines gathered into shapes.
Since there was no time, I boldly discarded any description that would have required more work.
Just the inspiration I'd received from the model.
Like a pink wildflower blooming a little late on a quiet hill—rough-edged, yet somehow buoyant.
That was the only thing I tried to bring out.
I didn't color it.
I only set the boundaries with lines that were sometimes rough, sometimes soft.
Time passed.
.
.
"Okay, that's it! Hands down, please. And make sure you've written your name and department in the bottom right corner."
The moment I heard the voice announcing the end, an involuntary “Ah...” of regret escaped me.
I'd sworn I'd just sketch it roughly.
But little by little, I had gotten sucked in, and by the end I was completely absorbed without even realizing it.
My whole body ached as if I'd unconsciously used mana.
I smiled bitterly and set down the pencil.
"This is a sickness. A real sickness."
I chided myself pointlessly, then got up without lingering and walked outside.
After that, as if nothing had happened, I stopped by the Dapsa club and filled out an application.
Aside from the Class A members, there was nothing special about the club, so the process ended very simply.
Time to head to the training grounds.
Half lighthearted, half unsettled, I left the plaza.
* * *
At twenty-two, Jeong Ae-ri was already a professional manager running a renowned domestic art gallery, as well as an art lover.
She herself acknowledged that her eye was exceptional, but.......
"Rejected."
"Then how about this one?"
"This one's no good either~"
This batch of applicants was so lackluster it was almost painful.
Even though she'd set the bar at art-school entrance exam level, not a single one caught her eye.
It was so dull that the obligation to “judge” them felt like a shackle.
"I'm going to rest for a bit."
She was just about to fiddle with her phone.
Then she suddenly heard the club members murmuring.
"What's this? This one didn't even color it. If you can't finish, isn't that an automatic fail?"
"Well, yeah, but...... isn't something a little weird about it? This one drawing stands out. I keep looking at it."
"Really? Let me see too."
At first, two. Then three, then four.
The judging panel was made up of club members who knew a fair amount about painting.
Yet they were going back and forth over a single drawing, unable to make up their minds.
As if they were appreciating some great masterpiece.
"What's going on?"
In the end, when she interjected again, one of the members scurried over and held out the drawing.
"Ae-ri, look at this. It's hard to evaluate."
Watching that, she couldn't help but sigh.
"Guys, this isn't a problem with the drawing—it's a problem with your eye for art......."
......Or so she'd meant to scold them, but the words caught in her throat.
...What is this? This drawing?
Its distinctiveness was almost arrogant.
Despite being a figure drawing made solely of black lines, it stirred emotions more vivid than any colored painting.
It was primal, which made it simpler, more direct, and all the more powerful.
As someone who prided herself on having seen countless masterpieces, Jeong Ae-ri recognized at a glance how valuable this drawing was.
This was no ordinary skill.
Not only did it focus on the subject's inner self rather than their outward appearance, but how many artists could convey that emotion so completely?
"Ae-ri, is something wrong?"
"Ah, no. Wait a second."
Jeong Ae-ri swallowed hard and looked at the name written at the bottom of the drawing.......
......D.H?
The name was D.H?
Th-that was all?
"No, who the hell is this!"