This Time Too, Was It My Fault?
I wished, with all my heart, that I could just rough up Park Jagi's back and escape right there.
Frustration had been boiling inside me for so long that even crawling home would have been worth it if only I could make these people do exactly what they wanted.
But even that much energy wasn't there anymore.
Normally I could move perfectly and play games without any problem even if I went a full day without eating. But the moment I started eating something like pizza, that emptiness I'd filled with ramen before suddenly felt impossible to bear.
Or maybe it was just because I was too lazy to care.
That's why I just slumped onto Park Jagi's back like dead weight.
Obviously my head knew I was in a situation where I should be angry, but after living for so long taking out all my irritation only in games, maybe I had forgotten how.
No, even that had stopped. After getting chat banned, I didn't just stop getting angry — I stopped speaking entirely.
Maybe I had forgotten how to feel anger at all.
Any urge to erupt inside me would quickly fizzle out, realizing there was no point.
Right now, I was literally the fifth dead tower.
Of course there were champions who would turn into anomalies after ten deaths if only a specific item dropped, but even without a single victory broadcast.
Most warriors would naturally play more restricted if they couldn't catch their opponent even once during three deaths, so the team wouldn't suffer any more than necessary.
I could say my heart had been broken and my aggression stripped away.
Ah, since I'd become a woman, the expression of aggression felt oddly appropriate.
The man sat me down on the bench, then handed me an apology again.
“Sigh, I'm sorry. Kim Ji-jin is so rigid that he just does exactly what he's told. If I just pretended to do it properly, he wouldn't have made me drag things out. The deputy was furious and yelled 'Don't work if you're going to do this,' so he just stood there blankly like an idiot.”
Speaking about the completely irrelevant behind-the-scenes stuff.
Anyway, his intention had been good, apparently trying to justify that part.
It only added to the unpleasantness.
“We already agreed on the transaction details. Why did you still try to do extra? I hope you weren't acting with malice. If you're forcing something, there must be some reason you want it. If you really wanted something more, you should have negotiated honestly instead.”
I shot back at him.
Even though my energy was completely gone, I was annoyed enough to keep talking.
Park Jagi faltered and stuttered in response.
“No, it wasn't like that at all… We just thought the student was having a hard time, so we wanted to help purely….”
Yeah, even if it wasn't purely, offering help was still a good act.
Even if he wanted additional gain, that didn't change anything.
Even if he wanted something else on the side, from a universal perspective, it was still a good-hearted offer.
But that only made it more annoying.
If the journalists had been purely evil, I'd have enjoyed watching him get slammed for it.
But they were just reasonably weak, reasonably good ordinary people.
That only twisted my mood further.
“Don't you know that pure goodwill is rare in this world? Even if he offered his hand without wanting anything in return and I couldn't repay it, I'd feel miserable. I'd keep thinking about the debt while interviewing, and maybe try to do something more. What would I have done if the debt was still there when I couldn't repay it? If giving me that burden was meant to make the negotiation easier, it was very effective.”
“Still, seeing someone struggling right in front of you, you can't just not help.”
“If we had no connection at all, I would have gratefully accepted it. Just some passerby, or some random internet person I'd never actually meet. But that's not the case. I'm afraid of what I'll be forced to ask for in return after helping like this.”
There were people who treated every act of kindness as part of a transaction.
During group projects, the ones who seemed to do an extra bit out of pity, then dumped all the annoying and tedious tasks onto the others.
During tutoring sessions, they'd slice fruit for me and call expensive coffee “premium coffee” even though I didn't like it at all, then demand extra unpaid lessons from parents.
Even back when I was a physically able man, these kinds of things had been a hassle.
Now that it had happened to me, they'd only push harder.
If I refused to accept it, I'd become the bad person.
It wouldn't just prick my conscience — I'd become the political victim.
But back then, if I'd been afraid of that, I should have done exactly as they said.
Now that death was waiting for me anyway, I could speak boldly like this.
“I see… I'm sorry, I was being short-sighted.”
Yet the reporter apologized for my sake without hesitation.
I figured he was giving me the look that said “Do it for a little longer and I'll stop being so sensitive.”
That meant I was overthinking again.
Confronting people's faces was always uncomfortable, especially in situations like this.
It was hard to tell whether his words were sincere or just polite, or whether he was just probing me.
His eyes or expression might have made it clearer, but even so.
Still, seeing his voice so drained, I softened a little too.
It wasn't like I had to accept every apology, but he seemed to understand my words reasonably well.
“I think I was too sharp with my words. Probably because I hadn't eaten anything yesterday, my nerves got a bit too edgy.”
“Ah, you didn't eat anything?”
“Yeah. Well, anyway. Since I'm staying home anyway, it's not like I'm burning much energy. So let's wrap this interview up quickly and help me get a box of Bakas.”
“Ah, of course. Thank you. Actually, I heard there was a violent incident here in this apartment complex that started as an online fight and turned into an in-person confrontation, and there were too many articles framing it as just a gaming issue, so I wanted to do some direct reporting. I couldn't just trust internet rumors, you know — otherwise I'd be no different from those lazy reporters who scrape any random article for clicks.”
“Ah.”
Thinking he was just some ordinary reporter, hearing that made me reconsider — maybe he wasn't so bad.
It was one thing being a professional, another being the one who'd done this to me.
He seemed like a decent guy, though I wondered why he'd been so pushy.
…Suddenly I felt really tired.
Talking to other people had been that exhausting.
I missed the woman next door so badly it hurt.
Without giving or receiving anything, just making pointless jokes while chatting.
She nagged me sometimes, but she was the kind of friend I could rely on.
But now that I had viewers in my pocket, I had to finish this interview and get some comfort from them as soon as possible.
While I was lost in thought for a moment, Park Jagi turned on his phone's voice recorder.
“So I wanted to ask how the true nature of this incident ended up.”
It seemed he really intended to put my words into an article.
So I gave a concise explanation without any extra details.
“Yeah. Well, it's pretty straightforward. That person was alone insulting me, crossed the line, and got sued, so they came over to beat me up. I guess they planned to make me retract the lawsuit while hitting me. Instead, they ended up in prison because of it.”
“Ah, so you were the victim?”
“Yeah. Well, you probably already knew.”
“I asked to confirm. Ah, but is this one question too?”
“…I'll give you one free pass.”
It seemed a little too casual somehow.
Still, that meant the debt was settled.
After I winked at him once, the reporter hesitated a moment before asking his next question.
“Um, then how closely do you think this incident is related to games?”
Probably thinking about the articles floating around right now, just like the viewers had said.
Even if I didn't like those articles, I had thought about it for a while.
I gathered my thoughts for a second and opened my mouth.
“The insult was because of games, yes. But no matter what, if anything like this happened, he would have come beating people up anyway. There are billions of gamers worldwide. Are they all criminals? Of course not. It would make more sense to investigate the correlation between people who drink water and crime rates.”
“Those fabricated articles are indeed absurd. Um, then what do you think would be a good way to prevent incidents like this?”
The final, third question.
After hearing that, I realized Park Jagi was only interviewing about this incident.
My disability was just a side issue.
An article about a gamer beating up a disabled person's house might be sensational, but because he seemed like someone genuinely trying to do something as a reporter, my resentment finally melted away.
“I don't think prevention is possible. A porcupine in your pocket will prick your finger eventually. People who want to act unruly will end up doing so one day. The only reason I was safe was because the security uncle saw the suspicious person following me. Thanks to the police coming right away.”
“Ah… Then maybe you want a box of Bakas too.”
“Yeah. Well, just to give the security uncle a thank-you greeting. I got four questions. That's a loss.”
So I spoke honestly about my inner thoughts and even threw in a joke.
Realizing that, Park Jagi's voice brightened as he replied.
“Thank you for the interview. Now I can bury those other forced articles! Ah, for the additional questions, I'll buy you a box of Bakas.”
“Then I'm happy with that.”
“Hah, hah. We just bought new chicken. I'm really sorry, so I wrapped it only with the chicken leg.”
While we were doing the interview, Kim Ji-jin suddenly came running over, holding my cane and the chicken.
Though the man had looked only disgusting earlier, now that my resentment was gone, seeing him panting like that was almost pitiful, so I gave him a joke too.
“Ah. You only have one leg, but I have many legs here.”
“Ah….”
“Hah, sorry!”
Well, that joke hadn't been very good after all.