The Point of No Return
It was truly the worst possible situation.
She had passed out cold, her phone was smashed to pieces, and the usual shop had already closed for the night.
My clothes were filthy, and so were hers—leaving us in a thoroughly awkward mess.
That was when the motel right in front of me caught my eye.
“Haa… this is driving me crazy. I can’t even call anyone. Screw it. Whatever.”
I just hoisted her onto my back and walked into the motel.
The old me would never have done something like this.
In the worst case, she could wake up tomorrow and report me to the police.
There wasn’t a single circumstance working in my favor.
Drunk woman. Motel. Destroyed phone. Unable to give a statement.
In any incident, the situation always outweighed reason. The odds of me being cast as the perpetrator were high.
And if word got out at the company, I’d be handing in my resignation that same day.
But leaving her like this was even more dangerous. This wasn’t a choice—it was the best response I had.
And right now, I had nothing left to fear.
Whatever happened later, I just wanted these reeking clothes off me this second.
Handcuffs or getting fired—either way, I was living on borrowed time.
There was no tomorrow for me.
Once inside the motel, I immediately stripped off my top and roughly washed up.
Then I came back out, carefully removed the blouse from the woman I’d laid on the bed. It was so covered in vomit I couldn’t leave it on her.
I kept my eyes averted as best I could while I stripped the clothes off her, then wiped her mouth and neck clean with a damp towel.
Finally I dressed her in a robe and pulled the blanket over her.
I went back into the bathroom, hand-washed both the dress shirt and the blouse, wrung them out hard, and hung them on the room’s hangers.
“Whew.”
I considered just putting the wet clothes back on and going home, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave an unconscious woman alone.
On top of that, her phone was destroyed. If she woke up, she could easily get the wrong idea.
At the very least, I felt I needed to explain what had happened.
At first I tried to tough it out on the sofa, but it was so uncomfortable I finally lay down on the far end of the bed opposite her and closed my eyes for a moment. And just like that, I fell into a deep sleep.
Once I finished explaining everything up to that point, Kang Bitna’s expression gradually returned to normal.
“Really… nothing happened at all? You’re sure?”
“Of course. Absolutely nothing happened.”
“Ugh… so embarrassing…”
She pulled the blanket all the way over her head and curled into a ball.
Seizing the moment, I grabbed my still-damp dress shirt, threw it on quickly, and picked up my coat as I spoke to her.
“Your broken phone and handbag are on the chair. Explanation’s done, so I’ll head out first. That seems best. Get home safely. Take care.”
I hurried out of the room.
She never moved, still buried under the blanket the entire time.
She must have been thoroughly mortified.
Outside the motel, the sun was hidden behind clouds and the air had turned quite chilly.
Even though it was morning, everything around me felt dark, as if rain could start falling any second.
I skipped the subway and boldly chose a taxi instead.
What was a little taxi fare?
I was exhausted in body and mind, and I looked like a wreck. This was no time for the subway. Honestly, it wasn’t as if I couldn’t make money. From now on, when it was time to spend, I would spend.
Of course, habits don’t change overnight.
Even with a terminal illness, the old habits stuck around.
Just as expected, as I got closer to home the rain began to fall in scattered drops.
The neighborhood itself was already damp and gloomy; with the weather this overcast, it felt downright desolate.
The taxi stopped at the entrance to the alley.
My studio building was a little farther in, but taxi drivers hated going that deep, so I’d already told him to drop me at the front.
I paid the fare and stepped out just as the rain started coming down in earnest, drop by drop.
I hurried toward the studio building when, from the opposite direction, a group of young-looking students came walking toward me, each with a cigarette dangling from their lips.
They were horsing around, laughing loudly.
I pressed myself against the wall and waited for them to pass.
But an unexpected variable appeared.
“Huh? This old guy?”
I’m not an old guy. I’m a thirty-two-year-old young man.
“Isn’t that the same old guy from before?”
One of them scowled and glared at me.
Ah, that little punk with the yellow hair…
Looking closer, it was the yellow-haired kid who’d tried to buy cigarettes at the convenience store the evening before last.
Right—he’d said his house was right up front. Of all the ways things could go wrong…
“Nah, not me.”
I gave him a bright smile and tried to walk past. But Yellow Hair quickly blocked my path and barked sharply.
“Hey! Guys! This old fart! This is the bastard I told you about. The convenience-store busybody.”
“What?”
“For real?”
In an instant the high-schoolers surrounded me.
Were these really high-schoolers? It felt like a wall had gone up around me.
Kids these days really were well-built.
Damn it. This was exactly why you shouldn’t stick your nose into other people’s business for no reason.
“No, fuck. It’s him. Ah~ playing dumb? Come on, talk big like you did last time.”
Even so, dropping the f-bomb on an adult years older than him… my temper started to flare. My condition was already at rock bottom today.
“Could you move, kids? I’m pretty tired today.”
“Puhah! Tired? Fuck, I was tired that day too, and I had to run all over the damn convenience stores because of you. How are you gonna take responsibility? Huh? How are you gonna take responsibility?!”
Yellow Hair raised one hand to shove me.
In that instant I calculated the rotation radius of his wrist and the angle of force. Maximum control with minimal movement was possible.
Pressure on the left radial extensor. He’ll collapse reflexively.
My movement felt less like instinct and more like quantified calculation.
I grabbed his wrist and twisted it lightly.
“Gyaaah! Let go! Fuck! Let go! It hurts! It hurts!”
“Hey, you—you better let go right now!”
“You wanna die?”
“You crazy bastard!”
In that moment his friends around us threw punches or tried to shove me.
I casually released the hand I’d been twisting. Yellow Hair toppled straight into his friends, and the sudden impact sent them all tumbling into a heap in the alley.
“Aah!”
“Ah, fuck! You idiot, get up already!”
“Bullshit! Just move!”
The kids tangled together, flailing.
“Tsk…”
I stared at my own hand for a moment as if it were something strange, then continued toward the studio building.
Lately my hands had been moving differently from what I intended.
Was this another side effect?
Just then the delinquent who’d finally scrambled to his feet charged at me.
I spun around sharply and raised one hand.
In that instant, something stirred inside me. A cold energy raced through my body and then burst outward with force.
What was that?
“Aah!”
Yellow Hair covered his face with both hands and flinched. The sudden killing intent had stopped him cold on pure instinct.
“Just go.”
I muttered it like it was a bother and walked into the building.
Shouts from Yellow Hair and his friends rose behind me, but I ignored them lightly and climbed the stairs.
I was tired.
I needed more sleep.
Something was definitely off with my body.
Once home I stripped off the clammy dress shirt and immediately took a hot shower. Only then did I start to feel human again.
I dried my hair and was about to take the medicine sitting on the table when I changed my mind.
I needed to observe my body a little longer first.
My head didn’t hurt right now, after all.
So I went straight to bed. I was a bit hungry, but exhaustion came first.
Just like that, empty of thought, I sank into deep sleep.
I was wandering through the mountains.
A place deep, dark, damp, and cold—air that burrowed straight into my body.
It’s been a while.
I looked down at both my hands.
They call this a lucid dream, right?
Knowing it was a dream yet still wandering inside it.
In truth, this was just one fragmented piece of my memory.
When I was very young I had gotten lost in the mountains and, inside a low, dark cave, I had seen something glittering brilliantly.
Of course I remembered nothing after that. I only ever saw it vividly in dreams.
I always entered the narrow cave, reached out toward the shining something, and then woke up.
Just like right now.
Flash.
I opened my eyes and looked out the window—still daytime.
The rain must have cleared; the weather had turned bright.
I checked the time: noon.
I’d only slept two hours.
So why did my body feel so light?
Strange.
I stretched lightly and got out of bed. No hangover, fatigue completely gone—instead I felt power welling up inside me.
Then I spotted the clothes scattered around.
Instinctively I got up, stuffed the laundry into the machine, started it, and vacuumed the room.
Cleaning felt like second nature. Since when had I been this tidy?
I opened the fridge—completely empty.
It was time for a long-overdue investment in myself.
I put on training clothes, pulled on a cap, and left the house.
Down the alley sat a fairly large supermarket, convenient for shopping. I just rarely went.
Once inside I began grabbing everything I needed at high speed. Strangely, the exact location of every product was crystal clear in my memory.
Milk, lettuce, cherry tomatoes, bacon, cheese, sparkling water, bread, eggs, meat—within moments I’d finished shopping and headed straight for the checkout.
There were two cashiers and the lines were long.
I stood in one of them and waited my turn.
Right in front of me was a couple who looked to be in their late thirties; the man was covered in tattoos from head to toe.
Just as my turn was approaching, the man in the young couple ahead suddenly started muttering a stream of curses.
“Ah, fuck. So goddamn slow. Don’t you think about the people behind you?”
He’d said it like he was talking to himself, but of course everyone around heard him.
I glanced ahead and saw an elderly grandmother slowly transferring her groceries into her own basket.
Naturally she was slow, and only later did the cashier hurry to help her.
But the man’s swearing didn’t stop there.
“There’s a ton of people and you’re just standing around not moving? Fuck. No common sense? Hey, why are you just standing there? You should be telling her to hurry up and clear out, right?”
“Ah, yes. I’m sorry.”
The cashier bowed her head and answered while scanning barcodes.
“A customer’s talking to you and you’re avoiding eye contact? Huh? You ignoring me?”
The fully tattooed man kept raining curses on the cashier, demanding she hurry up with the payment. The middle-aged woman cashier’s hands trembled and her face went pale.
“Oppa, she’s pitiful. Stop it.”
The woman beside him chewed gum and looked at the cashier with fake pity, then snickered and practically tossed her credit card over.
The cashier looked ready to burst into tears any second.
What a piece of trash. That bastard must have eaten manners for breakfast and shit them out.
My gaze couldn’t help but turn cold.
Then suddenly my eyes met the tattooed man’s.
He stepped toward me with a vicious face.
“The fuck you looking at.”
“The fuck are you looking at.”
The words just slipped out on pure instinct.
I couldn’t stand being spoken to casually out of nowhere.
The tattooed man laughed in disbelief, then glared again.
“Ha! Unbelievable. You wanna die?”
“If you’re done paying, hurry up and get the hell out. Don’t you think about the people behind you? There’s a ton of people and you’re just standing around not moving? No common sense? Hey, why are you just staring blankly? Get lost already.”
I threw his exact vocabulary, tone, and rhythm right back at him.
Imitation is the strongest counterattack.
When an attack fails to land, humans panic. Panic breeds fracture. This wasn’t just a verbal fight—I was dismantling his rhythm and his pride.
“You… you…!”
The tattooed man faltered for a second and reached to grab my collar.
But the sharp glares of everyone lined up behind me forced him to clench his teeth and back off.
A short while later the tattooed man was waiting at the supermarket entrance just for me to come out.
The woman kept urging him to just leave, but he only exploded in temper.
Looks like he was properly pissed off.