Thwarting Jaerin's Stalker
The Ryu Jaerin stalker incident. It shocked the entire nation at the end of 2013, becoming the trigger that pushed Jaerin to focus on overseas activities and the reason she developed panic disorder, making her reluctant to appear in front of people.
'Since it's well-known that Jaerin attends Daejong High, stalking her must've been easy.'
Is there anything easier than tailing a student? That's why the perp deliberately targeted days when Jaerin had no schedule.
'It's all coming back to me, one by one.'
She'd said that when she somehow ended up in an empty alley, he suddenly blocked her path.
'And it was right around Christmas, no less.'
For something like that to happen while everyone else was laughing and celebrating.
'Targeting an idol on break after her activities.'
He was one despicable bastard.
And the biggest problem was in the last part of the future message.
The perpetrator escaped by scaling a wall and exploiting a CCTV blind spot, evading capture.
Moreover, the streetlight in that alley was out at the time, so no one even saw the stalker...
2013 was still a time when South Korea had plenty of CCTV blind spots. Debates over budgets and privacy invasions were ongoing.
'That's how he slipped away even if bystanders spotted him.'
Disappearing amid residential streets and alleys takes seconds.
That was the real issue, actually. The stalker hadn't done any real harm to Jaerin, but 'to be precise, he'd tried, but Jaerin fought back fiercely.'
But he got away scot-free? That only amplified the anxiety.
And it became a chain that would torment Jaerin endlessly in the future.
'Not on my watch.'
With that thought, I calmly checked the items I'd bought. Black gloves, black mask, black hoodie, black cap. A perfect match for the culprits in Detective Conan.
'I'm not a total wimp, though.'
Anyway, preparations were complete. One goal: 'Make sure Jaerin never even encounters the stalker.'
To achieve that, I'd need to move stealthily.
BloomBell's debut song had a concept about becoming someone's bride, a sweet tune that warmed many hearts.
But one particular individual interpreted it entirely differently.
'My, my bride!'
Song Byung-gu was that guy.
Once a promising athlete, he'd fallen into booze and gambling, forgetting his place and spiraling straight to rock bottom.
His days consisted of doing nothing but watching TV and drinking.
Then he caught BloomBell's music show performance by chance, and it planted a twisted delusion in his head.
That's when the stalking began.
It was an era when celebrities' privacy wasn't heavily protected—fans could find home addresses online, and random assaults were spreading like a trend.
Song Byung-gu relentlessly tailed Ryu Jaerin.
One day near Christmas.
The very moment Jaerin coincidentally slipped into a secluded alley.
'B-bride...'
Muttering nonsense, he followed her.
Thud.
He bumped into someone.
"Wh-what the hell."
Narrow alley or not, it was wide enough for five people abreast. Bumping into someone there? No way it was accidental.
"Who the hell are you?"
The guy was a bit over 180cm tall, with an intimidating build. Just the light brush told Song Byung-gu he was solid.
Ignoring him, the man pulled out his phone.
Tap, tap-tap.
Familiar motions.
Then he compared a photo on his phone to Song Byung-gu.
Nod.
A silent nod.
That nonchalance drove Song Byung-gu mad.
"Come on out!"
No chance to talk later—he needed to meet her now, do something, but this weirdo kept trying to pass, so he blocked him again.
"Hey, what the hell are you?!"
Song Byung-gu shoved roughly, but—
Thud!
It was like pushing a brick wall; the man didn't budge.
Only then did Song Byung-gu properly take in the man's appearance.
'What the hell kind of body...'
His gaze, fixed on Jaerin until now, snapped back to reality like a dream shattered.
The man was all black. As if rejecting all light, only the dim glow from the old streetlamp overhead faintly illuminated him.
"Hey, you picking a fight? You know who I am?!"
Even if it'd been years since he trained, an athlete was still an athlete. Experience doesn't vanish, and even faded, it counts.
So Song Byung-gu squared up to vent some long-pent rage—
Click.
The streetlamp went out like a lie.
The alley, reliant on that single light, plunged into instant darkness.
Panicking, Song Byung-gu drew the knife he'd stashed for emergencies.
"Say something, you bastard!"
The terror of a silent figure looming over him. The moment he aimed the knife to kill—
"Huh?"
Song Byung-gu's view shifted in a flash. Suddenly dropping low—'Did he grab my head?'
Before the thought finished—
Crack.
His knife-wielding wrist twisted instantly.
"Guhk...!"
Pain surged; as he tried to scream—
A rag crammed into his mouth.
Clang.
The knife hit the ground, and a simultaneous crack of ribs breaking echoed inside him.
No weapons—just a fist. Perfectly slammed into his solar plexus, it stole his breath and sight.
He retched, but the gag blocked it.
His own body, yet utterly helpless. Terror of death. It all mixed, weakening his legs, forcing him to kneel.
He wanted to beg for mercy, but couldn't. All he could do was sob and pray for it to end.
'Hm?'
Did his prayer work? '...He's not hitting anymore?'
No more blows came. Really, just that one solar plexus punch. Head down, arm twisted, gut shot. Three moves, total domination.
When Song Byung-gu looked up again—
Short and clear message. Even an idiot would know what not to touch.
But.
'What an idiot.'
Song Byung-gu smirked. Phone out for the message meant the twisted arm was free—body mobile again.
'You dare!'
The instant he grabbed the knife with his good hand—
Click.
The streetlamp flickered back on, as if waiting.
Blinding sudden light. And simultaneously—
"Kyaaah!"
Screams from behind—people spotting knife-wielding Song Byung-gu.
Clear-cut: he was the freak with the blade.
'Damn it!'
He bolted to flee, but—
Crunch!
The man blocked again. Shoe toe perfectly into his shin center—a flawless joint strike. Song Byung-gu crumpled.
'Perfect.'
The man—no, Kim Donghu—nodded inwardly and vaulted the wall.
'Bystanders report it, cops come—done.'
Satisfied, Donghu grinned, turned, and vanished.
Far off, Ryu Jaerin turned at the screams.
'Hm?'
Something happened, though she wasn't sure what.
'That black-clad guy looks familiar.'
Who was it? The thought passed briefly.
Jaerin shrugged and continued on.
'Even if we can't spend Christmas together.'
She could at least bake a cake. Her steps lightened toward the department store shortcut.
The morning after wrapping up the incident neatly.
I nodded contentedly at the headlines popping up everywhere.
'Got him good.'
Wrist and one leg neutralized—no escape, even for an ex-athlete.
'So this is the first future tragedy I've prevented?'
Thinking about it, there were plenty more. Events tied to people precious to me now, forgotten in my past life since they didn't affect me.
Preventable with foreknowledge, surely.
'Problem is, I don't remember them clearly.'
But Sims would fill in the gaps—no worries.
'And the biggest tragedy? I haven't forgotten it.'
The 2015 event, the most crucial to me. Had to stop it.
'About a year left, huh.'
They say even hedgehogs think their young are cute. The incident that denied even that.
'My parents' death.'
I vowed it wouldn't happen, checking my schedule again—
Jaerin's out-of-the-blue KakaoTalk popped up.
"How'd she know!?"
The shock was brief.
Thud thud thud.
"Donghu, open up—I brought cake."
Jaerin was at the door. Next-door perks for the ambush.
'Wh-what the hell!'
My heart nearly dropped out.