A Life Defined by Regret
Adults always ask the same damn question. "What's your dream?" Are they really curious about mine? Or do they just want to brag about their own achievements and puff themselves up?
Fuck you bastards, stop asking that shit. Dreams are bullshit. Dreams only come when you're so fucking exhausted you're barely drifting off to sleep, your body aching all over, tossing and turning till dawn.
My life could be summed up in one word: [Regret.]
A string of wrong choices. Being born an orphan wasn't my choice, so I'd swallow the injustice. No education, no opportunities. All I had was this healthy body.
I built about ten apartments as a day laborer on construction sites, worked as a plasterer, slept less than others, and busted my ass harder.
"Park, your punches pack a wallop. Ever thought about boxing?"
It started when I saved Mr. Kang, the plasterer getting lynched by local thugs. Boxing was the one choice I never regretted.
Amateur boxing: 30 fights, undefeated. Pro debut, and I kept winning. Pro boxing paid surprisingly well.
"Boxing genius. Prodigy of the ring. Asian middleweight champion. Hope of the boxing world. Aiming for world champion."
The media hyped me up with sensational headlines, and as my record stayed perfect, the money piled up. I thought I'd finally opened the door to a happy life.
[Regret.]
If I'd been home that day... if I hadn't drunk and come back late... no, if I'd just stayed out overnight...
Burglars had broken in. One waiting behind the door stabbed my lower gut with a butcher knife, and the fight began.
I had to fight to survive. They'd gutted me, thinking I was done for. I seized the moment when they let their guard down and went after them.
All I remember is struggling for my life.
When I woke in the hospital, those two were dead, and I was a murderer.
"Even with a knife, a pro boxer's fists don't count as self-defense."
The photos the prosecutor showed of the "victims" were gruesome. Eyeballs burst, brains splattered, front teeth fused with molars.
"Faces smashed like they got hit by a truck. Look at this. Not self-defense."
In the burglary case, I became the victimizer, the dead burglars the victims. Then the prosecutor brought in a boxer who spouted bullshit like "a champ's punch hits like a shotgun blast," shaking his head.
Why are you so desperate to kill me? I'm the victim here.
Guilty verdict. A country where self-defense isn't recognized. That was South Korea.
Fine. Fuck it. I should've died back then. Should've let those home-invading bastards who tried to kill me rest in peace.
You crazy fucking judge.
I should've screamed that inside my head. My courtroom shouting earned me extra charges piled on.
20 years in prison. Bang bang bang.
My world champion dreams vanished like that. A presidential pardon got me out in 5 years special release, but the world was full of unfair bullshit.
Judges ruling for their own power. No justice in the world.
I turned my back on it all and holed up at home.
My real dream? Marry, start a family. Rewrite my lonely life through marriage.
But for an ex-con like me, even that wasn't easy.
And... time flew reading webtoons and webnovels.
"What a clusterfuck."
I felt more fucked than when I'd gone to prison.
Egenam, Surviving in a Cult Academy.
I slammed the novel shut and spat curses. Over 2,400 chapters, and now I finally got those prologue comments begging not to read it.
It started fun. Protagonist whose dad is the cult leader. That's where I first learned "Egenam."
A guy oozing estrogen—like a flower about to bloom. Not the same as a loser dude. An Egenam stares at field flowers forever, can't bear to hurt cute animals. Hobbies like flower arranging, knitting simple bags for mom... a dude as delicate as a real girl.
The polar opposite of me, a testosterone-pumped "Tetoman" macho man.
An Egenam protagonist? Intriguing.
He dreams of becoming a hunter at the academy, but his powers awaken late, landing him in the "Gatherers" class as a porter, not hunters.
In dungeons, he'd sightsee flowers, pass out handling monster corpses. His journey from bullied weakling to strong hunter was gripping.
But then the "heroines" get butchered one by one, turning it into grimdark trash.
Not one—all three heroines slaughtered.
"Why the fuck doesn't he get revenge?"
He vows revenge, grows stronger... but at the end, instead of payback, he spouts "True revenge is forgiveness" bullshit, spiking readers' blood pressure.
Ends reminiscing dead girls, walking alone. Stays Egenam to the end, blood pressure through the roof.
"Fuck this shit. Fucking Egenam!"
[Regret]
Thud—
Ah.
If I hadn't read this novel...
Looks like I died from a burst brain aneurysm reading it, high blood pressure and all...
...An unfamiliar ceiling.
I'd opened my eyes in the world of Egenam, Surviving in a Cult Academy.