Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Prologue
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It was a bizarre dream.
Not like I was on the verge of death or anything, but my entire life flashed before my eyes like a montage.
A static hiss, like from an old TV. At the same time, I saw myself in a blue prison jumpsuit.
-Ammunition Group Chairman Han Seo-jun has been remanded to Seoul Detention Center this morning. Prosecutors are seeking a 15-year sentence on charges including embezzlement...
"Ah... no!"
My scream shattered the screen with a crash.
Was it a warning not to meddle with the past?
The moment I reached for a memory I didn't want to recall, it scattered above my head like shards of glass.
"Aah..."
A sharp glass fragment sliced my hand, and red blood dripped to the floor.
It pooled like a puddle. Then, an image from a bit further back reflected on its surface.
-Breaking news. The Ammunition Group board has appointed Han Seo-jun as the new chairman. At just twenty-five years old...
A flushed face. Confident steps on the red carpet.
In front of the podium, bathed in chandelier light, that foolish version of me from back then opened his mouth.
'Hello. I am Han Seo-jun, the new chairman who will now take the helm of the Ammunition Group.'
A position I'd stumbled into not through skill, but bloodline and internal group politics.
Thanks to my father's sudden death, I'd become the chairman of a top-10 conglomerate at barely mid-twenties.
Right away, the voices of the executives in the audience seats, badmouthing me.
'It's ridiculous enough that a green kid like him is chairman, but a bastard child to boot... What do you think, Executive Director Park?'
'The company's doomed. His life too.'
'Well, that punk can't escape being the scapegoat. All we can hope is the group survives...'
Distrustful glares poured from the employees. They couldn't accept that this kid was the captain holding the Ammunition Group's wheel.
"I... I was such a fool."
Clenched fists. Grimly gritted teeth.
My teardrops hit the blood puddle, creating rippling circles.
With each drop, the image of the past lost more form.
The shape in the ankle-deep puddle blurred beyond recognition from the shaking.
"If I could go back... I wouldn't make the same mistakes again..."
In that instant, my throat closed up.
Was it dizziness crashing in like an unwelcome guest?
I couldn't finish my mutter.
"Ugh..."
The shaking in my head intensified.
The vibration reached the ceiling, it seemed—the chandelier above the podium rained down brilliant light onto my head.
-Crash!
Hundreds of crystal shards poured like a downpour.
Fragments of the past embedded in each one imprinted on my retinas.
Regret shards, remorse shards, sorrow shards...
"Aah..."
Time crawled slowly from the frozen screen. It felt like my breath would stop any second.
"Hyung-nim! Seo-jun hyung-nim! Get up already!"
A familiar voice from outside the dream.
My name called from inescapable reality.
I gasped for air and opened my eyes to the lit ceiling I'd seen for nearly ten years now.
"Hyung-nim! Get up quick, I said!"
"Urgh, what? Dae-sik?"
"Ha... seriously! Guards are coming and you're not getting up, what're you doing?"
"Uh... wait, what about the chairman inauguration?"
Still half in the dream, I fiddled with the threadbare blanket and mumbled something.
Feeling the cotton tuft poking from the corner, yeah, this was definitely prison.
My cellmate Dae-sik, who'd woken me, scratched his buzzcut in frustration and raised his voice.
"Inauguration? What's that nonsense?"
"Ha... right? Makes no sense, huh?"
"Lordy, hyung-nim always has the weirdest dreams. Hurry and fold that blanket!"
* * * *
In the dream, a big-company chairman toasting with champagne in a fancy hotel.
In reality, me—a prison inmate in a blue jumpsuit. The hole in the toe of my rubber shoes was my charming quirk.
"Hyung-nim. Dreaming of your glory days again, huh? Heh... guess you're itching to get out, having all kinds of wild dreams."
Weekend morning exercise time. I hung from the pull-up bar, chatting with my buddy Dae-sik.
"Get out? I've still got six months left."
"I've got three years. Anyway... must've felt good, right? What the kids call your prime time?"
"......"
Prime time—life's golden era, another way to put it.
Before being forced to take the fall for all of Ammunition Group's corruption and insolvency, landing me unjustly in here.
A conglomerate heir who'd shrunk under family pressure suddenly hailed as "Chairman" overnight.
Pulling my body up onto the bar, I replied to Dae-sik.
"Hup! Good my ass. Can't even rewind, so dreaming's just pie in the sky."
"Aw... c'mon, don't play coy! If you could rewind, you'd go back, right?"
Swinging full circle, I hooked my legs over the bar and hung upside down, staring at the sky.
Unlike me, trapped in this prison well, those white clouds drifted free across the blue expanse.
"Rewind to back then... pie in the sky. You mocking me? We been off lately?"
"Nah, not mocking. Imagination's free, right? Like, if you went back, what'd you do first?"
Dae-sik, true to his conman roots, had a silver tongue that reeled people in.
Was it the autumn breeze brushing my cheek?
As always, I spilled my true feelings, hooked by his words.
"First off... no taking the full blame unjustly. Ten years for nothing? That's crossing the line."
"And then?"
"Got the chairman seat at a failing company? Chance of a lifetime—time to swing the nuclear bat and overhaul everything."
And... make Mom stop suffering, waiting for her son all these nearly ten years.
She came every Wednesday, five-hour round trip from home to prison. Never missed once.
A guy like me? Calling me a magma-level unfilial son wouldn't even cover it.
Swallowing the follow-up, I turned my head aside. Didn't want that cheeky punk Dae-sik seeing the dew in my eyes.
"Heh heh... what's this, bawling? Waterfall city over here."
"Shut it! It's humid today. That's sweat, not tears."
"Hyung-nim, know what folks call that?"
"What?"
"Cowardly excuse. Heh heh heh."
Damn punk.
Anyway, Dae-sik's a weird one. Ever since he came in about a year ago, he's stuck to me like glue.
Always prying, so now he knows all about the Han family of Ammunition Group.
I was debating giving his forehead a flick when he suddenly lowered his voice.
"Alright, hyung-nim. Time to go, so come down already."
"Huh? Exercise time over already? Feels like we just started."
Still leg-hooked, I crunched up into a sit-up.
The electronic clock on the watchtower read 11 a.m. Still twenty minutes left.
Must be a special day or something. Time-conscious Dae-sik slipping up like this.
"Hey, Dae-sik. Check the clock. Plenty of time left."
"Nah, not exercise time. Rewind time."
"Huh? What's that mean? Rewind time? Nonsense..."
-Bzzzzzz!
My head rang, strength drained from my body. Same as waking from that morning dream. No—worse.
Dizzy, I couldn't hold myself up. Losing balance on the bar, about to crash headfirst, when Dae-sik grabbed me.
"Hup, can't summon the reincarnation truck, but rewind bar's no problem, right?"
"Dae-sik... what... are you..."
Throbbing headache cut my words. Vision spun, world went foggy.
Even Dae-sik's face, holding me, smeared like pixel mush.
"Inmate 1014! Inmate 1014! You okay?"
The guard on the watchtower saw I looked bad and blared my number urgently.
"Poor guards busting their asses too. But not as hard as you, hyung-nim."
"Ugh... Dae-sik, head hurts so much..."
"You're exaggerating.... Hold on a sec. It'll pass soon."
Growing headache. Darkening vision.
Dizziness peaked; even the loudspeaker faded.
Last thing in my ears: Dae-sik's lullaby-like farewell.
"You've suffered enough. Live well when you go back. Don't waste this chance."
* * * *
"Ah!"
I came to.
Dizziness lingered like after time travel, but bearable.
Rubbing sleep from my eyes in a daze, someone spoke out of nowhere.
"Oh... my condolences on your loss. As a son, your grief must be immense."
"Huh? What?"
Reincarnation truck? Rewind bar? No clue. Just confusion.
Snapping out of Dae-sik's magic, I saw a mourner in funeral black bowing to me.
"This..."
Black suit, two-line armband for chief mourner—my clothes said funeral home.
"What... is this? Where am I!"
My blank face must've misled him.
The white-haired old mourner gripped my hands, pleading earnestly.
"Sigh, that explosion... I know it's a shock. But Young Master Seo-jun, you must stay strong."
Explosion snapped a dusty memory loose.
My father, whom I'd only met after twenty. Died inspecting an Ammunition Group munitions factory.
"No way..."
Ignoring the long line of mourners, I whipped around.
Didn't care if I looked nuts. Had to figure out what was happening.
Through incense smoke, the portrait showed a stern middle-aged man with his usual grumpy scowl.
"Father...? So this is that funeral?"
In front of piled chrysanthemums, the black wooden plaque read:
-The Late Han Hwa-yak, Chairman of Ammunition Group
"What. Really... like Dae-sik said? Back in time?"