It Was Getting Out of Hand
"That’s it for today, dayo!"
Today’s future, as shown by the crystal ball, was full of wonderfully happy scenes.
A father taking care of three children with a slightly gaunt but blissful expression, and a mother with a healthy shine in her face as she prepared dinner.
It was the picture of a very happy family.
Hmm. If I’d had a younger brother or an older brother…
There were scenes of them snarling at each other over the computer, of him being pinned down by his brother’s physical superiority…
Would a younger sibling be different?
There were scenes of him tattling to Mom at the slightest thing, and of him getting pinned down by a younger sibling’s physical superiority, too….
"Hmm…. Brothers are unnecessary, dayo…."
Looking at the clock, the hour hand was heading toward twelve.
He cracked the door open and peeked out. Mom was sitting on the sofa, watching TV.
When their eyes met, Mom smiled and patted the seat beside her with her palm.
At the signal, Juhwan dashed straight to her side.
Hop.
The moment he sank into the plush sofa, the living room came into view.
On the side opposite where Mom had patted the cushion, dried laundry was piled high, and she was folding it one piece at a time.
Mom had shifted her hands through the heap of laundry.
"I got played, dayo."
"We’re all going to wear them anyway. What does it matter?"
Folding laundry wasn’t hard.
The problem was that Mom had won the mind game against Eternals for real.
She’d also lost the fried pork cutlet mind game against Dad.
Maybe she had more talent than I thought.
I should teach Mom and Dad this fun game someday, too.
"What did Mom do today, dayo?"
As she folded laundry briskly, Mom let out a sigh.
"Sigh. I went to vote in the morning, then did housework like always."
Kim Juhwan wondered if she should go vote later in the afternoon.
"There’s just nobody worth voting for. Nobody. Though that handsome district mayor in Mapo did catch my eye this time."
Kim Juhwan thought it over carefully, then asked, "Why can’t you vote for him, dayo?"
Mom looked at her with an amused, unreadable smile.
"Juhwan, are you an idiot, dayo?"
Kim Juhwan stared at her, eyes wide.
"Huh?"
"You’re copying Mom too, dayo?"
Mom laughed and kept going with the dayo-che.
"How’s this, dayo? Am I doing it right, dayo?"
"That’s not how you do it, dayo!"
Mom’s version of dayo-che was like….
…
Under the scorching heat of midsummer, rough breathing echoed in the back courtyard of the Andong nobleman’s house like the roar of beasts.
"Heh-cha! Hoo-it!"
With a sharp crack, the worn hemp jacket split open, revealing bronze scars and rippling muscle beneath.
"You wretch, Manjeok! You still haven’t finished chopping that stupid tree yet?"
Despite the scolding, the pine stump that hadn’t budged even when ten burly men threw themselves at it was split effortlessly under the thick arm of the slave called Manjeok.
"Yes, yes! I’ll have it done in no time, dayo~"
…
The way she spoke was just like a Joseon-era slave, and before he knew it, Juhwan had burst out laughing.
"That’s not how you do dayo-che, dayo!"
"Understood, dayo~"
Mom, still smiling, turned her full attention back to the TV.
Dear viewers, good evening. We have just received a breaking news alert.
Under the anchor’s image on the screen, the caption read: [Breaking] First confirmed domestic case of a “new virus”.
As of around 8 a.m. this morning, a woman in her thirties who entered the country from China through Incheon International Airport has been conclusively confirmed to have contracted the new virus.
"Oh my…."
Mom’s expression darkened.
Some observers are viewing this as a positive development since it occurred after the local elections, and attention is now focused on how the Korea Disease Control and Prevention Agency will respond from here on out.
The screen changed, and footage of people in full-body protective suits guarding quarantine checkpoints flickered by as stock footage.
The anchor’s voice, saying that the infectious-disease crisis alert had been raised from Watch to Caution, drifted through the living room.
"Juhwan, you saw that, right? If you go out and come back, make sure you wash your hands…."
Mom trailed off in the middle of her sentence and fell into thought.
"Come to think of it, I don’t need to worry about you, Juhwan."
"That’s right, dayo. Mom and Dad need to be more careful! I’m fine, dayo."
Mom patted Juhwan’s head as she spoke, her eyes bright with affection.
"There are days when never leaving the house turns out to be an advantage…."
At whether that was praise or not, Juhwan laughed.
And so Kim Juhwan spent a pleasant little while like that.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Tick, tick.
The second hand of the clock on the wall sounded strangely loud.
With his interlaced hands resting on the desk in his office, he stared only at the TV screen.
Election day.
It was an important day that would decide the path ahead, but there was only one thing filling Kwon Suhyuk’s mind.
The virus he had learned about through Kim Juhwan.
The beginning of the pandemic she had spoken of.
It was an exact match.
The time, the place, even the gender—there wasn’t a single deviation.
"…So the gears have finally started turning."
Suhyuk muttered low under his breath and turned off the TV.
The moment he set down the remote, the phone on his desk rang sharply.
After a brief hesitation, Suhyuk slowly picked up the receiver.
"Suhyuk, you’ve seen the news too, haven’t you?"
Of course it was his grandfather.
"Yes, Grandfather."
His grandfather’s voice over the line was firm.
It was a thoroughly rational command, delivered after he had already grasped the situation and reached his conclusion.
"It may be nothing more than a trivial cold, but as always, the public catches fear very easily. I trust you understand what I mean."
"Yes, Grandfather. I think so too."
"Lay low for a while. Put a stop to everything you’ve been stirring up as of today. This is a time to cling to what we have and weather the waves, not get swept away by them."
"Yes, Grandfather. I’ll do as you say."
Suhyuk answered calmly and hung up.
But unlike his cool reply, his eyes were burning hot.
His grandfather’s instructions were calculated with nothing but profit and loss in mind.
It was the same decision the future version of his grandfather had made after hearing what Kim Juhwan had said.
For now, they were being ordered to prioritize their own survival.
If this had been the Suhyuk of the past, he would have bowed his head without even trying to resist that suffocating pressure.
The instant Suhyuk ended the call, he held down the intercom for a long moment.
"Secretary Kim, call the head of the bio research lab and Managing Director Choi to my office immediately."
With a heavy expression, Suhyuk rose and looked out the window, biting his thumbnail.
…
The heavy office door opened, and the lab director and Managing Director Choi entered with tense expressions.
Suhyuk tore his gaze away from the city outside the window and turned around.
"Did everyone watch the news?"
The first to answer was Managing Director Choi.
"You mean the breaking report about the first confirmed case just now?"
Choi answered while wiping sweat from his brow.
"But it’s only one person for now. The Korea Disease Control and Prevention Agency says they’re keeping the patient in strict quarantine, so soon…."
"No. It’s already spread."
Suhyuk’s resolute voice cut through Choi’s words.
"Director. If we take this newly reported virus and assume it follows our predictions, what’s the situation now?"
The lab director’s face went ghost-white as he answered.
"If we plug the virus that’s been publicly announced into the simulation we’ve built so far, the situation is more serious than we expected."
The director’s eyes widened even further when he saw the desk in the office.
Different types of simulations, carefully organized from the discussions he’d had with Kwon Suhyuk in the past, were laid out at a glance.
The young master is staking everything on this virus right now… Just how far this snowball rolls, nobody really knows.
"A respiratory infection with asymptomatic transmission—this may already be at the point where it can’t be controlled. The medical staff currently in quarantine will be the first exposed to danger, and then the hospitals…."
Suhyuk said, glaring fiercely at the table.
"A virus that starts like that becomes a disaster-class threat…."
"Exactly."
"We’ve already foreseen this crisis. If it weren’t for that person’s words, this never would have happened."
Suhyuk lifted his head, closed his eyes, and fell silent for a moment.
"Deploy every liquid asset available right now. Grandfather moved exactly as we predicted. Gather everything—my personal assets, stock holdings, and slush funds, all of it. And get exclusive contracts with mask manufacturers, both domestic and overseas."
"R-Representative, that’s far too dangerous a gamble! If the incident ends early, the losses would be enormous…!"
Managing Director Choi’s objection made sense.
No matter how much Suhyuk had changed, the fact remained that he had already burned 65 billion won in retained corporate earnings.
And with Choi having received those instructions at his side, he was still feeling responsible for that mess.
Now, with Suhyuk preparing another all-in bet, Choi’s back was soaked in cold sweat.
And Suhyuk wasn’t unaware of how he felt.
"I’ll take full responsibility. Don’t worry."
A heavy voice, a face full of certainty.
Suhyuk breathed life back into the grim atmosphere of the office and tightened their unity.
"And Director."
"Yes, Representative."
"We need to throw ourselves into securing a sample of this new virus through the most lawful routes possible. As we’ve been preparing all along, complete the reverse-sequence analysis and start developing a diagnostic kit that can identify asymptomatic carriers, starting now."
In the lab director’s eyes, Suhyuk looked like someone who was already facing a catastrophe that had truly come to pass.
"Remember this. We are not moving to make money right now."
Bang.
Kwon Suhyuk drove his fist down hard onto the office desk.
"We have to become a shield for innocent citizens. We don’t have time. Move."