Chapter 1: The Beginning (1)
Chapter 1: The Beginning (1)
Let’s see...
A twenty-four-year-old pathetic mess who can't even look after his own body.
That’s the perfect description for me.
Once, I was a man who believed there was nothing I couldn't do. Now, my reality is being confined to the house, unable to move a muscle without my sister’s help.
I really am a pathetic piece of work.
I haven't looked in a mirror, so I don't know what my eyes look like, but I’m sure they’re cloudy and lifeless, like the eyes of a rotting fish...
Sigh... Being stuck inside all day, mostly cooped up in my room, is suffocating.
Has it been two years already?
Doing nothing but staying home makes me feel like the most useless human being on the planet. A sense of utter helplessness has taken over my body.
"Haah..."
A sigh escaped my lips involuntarily.
Leaning against the backrest, I tilted my head back and stared at the ceiling. After a moment of blankly gazing upward, I adjusted my posture and lifted my left hand.
A simple motion: clenching and unclenching my fist.
It took me a full year just to be able to do this.
As I shifted my gaze, the scars running down my arm caught my eye. My body was little more than a patchwork of ruins. To be honest, it was a miracle I even survived after what I did back then.
Who did I think I was? I had no power, yet I stood in the way of those monsters...
Even now, I wonder why I did it. I still don't know where that courage came from.
But back then, I felt I had to. The shelter I had evacuated to was full of young children, and someone had to buy time, no matter what.
It would be a lie to say I have no regrets... but since everyone else survived even if I ended up a cripple, it wasn't meaningless.
I suppose that’s my only consolation.
Ugh... Why am I getting so sentimental all of a sudden?
I turned my attention to the monitor in front of me. Using the computer was the only hobby I could enjoy at home.
The incident happened two years ago. The reason I was dwelling on it now was because of the article I was reading. It was about a group of people in a shelter who were massacred by Orcs that had poured out of a Portal.
It was impossible not to remember.
Back then, I had stood in front of the Orcs to buy time, but the ones who actually saved the children, the others, and myself were the Awakeners—people with supernatural abilities far beyond those of ordinary humans.
...Well, that’s what my sister told me after I spent a week hovering between life and death in the hospital.
At the time, I had blocked the path of burly Orcs standing well over two meters tall, only to have my entire body shattered by a single, casual punch. If the creature had swung the axe it was holding instead, I wouldn't even be alive to have these thoughts.
Fortunately, according to ongoing research, Orcs are creatures with a strange sense of honor. They have an odd habit of matching their opponent: if you hold a weapon, they use a weapon; if you're empty-handed, they fight with their fists.
From my perspective, that quirk is the only reason I'm alive, so I suppose I should be grateful.
I hadn't even had time to think before I jumped in front of them, and this was the result.
I felt so sorry for my sister. I still don't clearly remember how I was attacked...
Regardless, I was on the brink of death, underwent major surgery, and miraculously survived. The doctor who saved me said it was a miracle I even pulled through... Tsk.
Surviving was good, but the problem was money.
Starting from the surgery to the constant post-op treatment and rehabilitation, I spent an entire year in the hospital. Naturally, it wasn't free, and the medical bills were astronomical. I had insurance, but there was no way it could cover everything.
My sister shouldered those bills all by herself.
I had some savings from part-time jobs I did before joining the military, but it was barely a drop in the bucket. To my sister, I was nothing more than a useless burden.
Even after being discharged, I couldn't even take care of my own basic needs, so finding a proper job was out of the question.
My sister paid for everything. Not just the medical bills, but all our living expenses as well.
Ugh...
I really am a piece of trash to her... Sigh.
Despite everything, she never complained. She probably thinks it’s only natural for her to take care of me, even if I don't have a cent to my name. Her actions and the way she’s looked after me made that clear.
The problem remained: I was still just dead weight.
Over the course of a year, I finally regained enough strength to support my upper body, but my legs still wouldn't move. Beyond just not moving, I couldn't feel them at all; they felt like useless appendages.
Even now, when I touch my thighs, I feel nothing. I can feel the warmth of my hands through my palms, but that part of my body is no longer under my control. At least I can still feel the warmth, so I haven't lost all hope...
The doctor said the attack from the Orc seemed to have completely severed the nerves connecting to my lower body.
If I already experienced one miracle by surviving, couldn't another one happen?
These pointless thoughts kept bubbling up.
The beep-beep of the electronic lock reached my ears. Shortly after, I heard the faint sound of the front door closing.
It was already time for Noona to come home.
It had to be her. Hardly anyone ever visited our place. In a way, I’ve never been much of a social butterfly. I’d long since lost touch with my high school friends, mostly because I went straight into the military after graduation.
I moved my hands busily to greet her.
I maneuvered my wheelchair—which had become like a part of my own body—and headed out of the room. This was something I couldn't even do a month ago. Before that, I always had to greet her while lying in bed.
Getting even this far had been an exhausting struggle.
As I opened my door and rolled out, I saw her at the entrance, just stepping out of her shoes.
She was a beauty, the kind whose looks would turn heads on the street. A career woman with a black leather work bag slung over her shoulder, she looked over at me.
My only family and the only person I could rely on: Kang Yujin.
Ever since we were kids, she was so popular that my friends were always begging me to introduce them. She was beautiful, and she excelled at everything, whether it was academics or sports.
Since she was coming straight from work, she was dressed in a black women’s suit. It suited her perfectly—she was someone who maintained herself flawlessly. Even though she’d been working since early morning, her clothes looked as crisp and clean as if they were brand new.
She was perfect, without a single flaw.
Noona was always like this. Even at home, she never let herself go and always showed me her best side. Even I had to admit, deep down, that she was incredible.
She was someone who should have been successful, enjoying her life and living comfortably, but instead, she was suffering because of me. The thought made me feel terrible. She was bearing the burden of my medical bills and our living expenses all on her own.
It was a debt I had to repay someday.
Now that I’d recovered enough to use my upper body, I wanted to do something for her, especially since she must have had a hard day at work... I just felt so sorry.
Whether she noticed my thoughts or not, Noona looked straight at me.
"Shin-a. I told you to stay in your room. Why did you come out?"
As soon as she saw me, she spoke with a worried expression, her voice carrying a hint of a scolding. I could feel how much she cared for and worried about me in those words, which only made my guilt grow.
"I'm fine. I can't just do nothing forever... I need to keep moving like this."
I quickly made an excuse, but...
"No. You need to focus on resting. I'll take care of you, Shin-a."
Yujin-noona spoke with a firm tone. Setting her bag down, she walked over to me. She moved behind me and turned the wheelchair toward the kitchen.
When I first opened my eyes after being severely injured two years ago, the first thing I saw was her face, eyes brimming with tears. She must have been terrified, seeing me come back from the dead. Ever since then, she had become incredibly overprotective.
After bringing me to the dining table, she took off her suit jacket and put on a white apron.
"I'll get dinner ready quickly. Is there anything you want to eat?"
She looked at me as if urging me to speak up.
In this situation, saying "anything" would be the wrong answer. She hated it when I tried to be "considerate" by saying I didn't need anything or giving a vague response.
Ahem...
"There’s some curry left over from yesterday. I’ll just have that."
I tried my best not to be a burden. Fortunately, she nodded without much protest and immediately turned to the sink to wash her hands.
"Alright. Just wait a bit, I'll have it ready soon."
My eyes fell on her glossy, beautiful black hair. Whenever she went out, she wore it in a neat ponytail, a sight I saw every day.
As usual, I just sat at the table and watched her prepare the meal. I wanted to help with even the smallest thing, but the most I could do was set out the spoons and chopsticks...
Even though I was now capable of taking side dishes out of the fridge and setting them up, she never let me do anything. If I even tried, she’d give me a sharp look and tell me to stay still, leaving me unable to budge.
Even now, she glanced back at me while cooking. When she saw me sitting still with my hands on the table, just watching her, she smiled with satisfaction.
I was grateful for her, but I couldn't help the sense of self-loathing that came from being so helpless...
Ugh...
Get it together. If I start having dark thoughts, she’ll worry. I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions, and she can read my face like a book. I need to keep my expression in check.
Soon, the kitchen, which had been quiet while she was away, became noisy with the sounds of cooking. The house, which had been silent while I was alone, felt alive again.
Since she was just heating up yesterday's curry, it wouldn't take long.