Dad!
Young Woojin's call. His father looked down at the son cradled preciously in his arms. The harsh sunlight had cast dark shadows across his face, but now it shone brightly, revealing everything. He wore a smile happier than anyone else's in the world.
"Yeah, my son!"
His voice was warmer than anything on earth.
The child added to his call.
"…scary?"
It wasn't clear…. But it was definitely a question about something. What did he say?
"…scary?"
The beginning was muffled. Ah, just a little closer….
"…Are you not scared, Dad?"
Yeah? Scared of what? He focused every ounce of energy and nerve into his ears once more. Finally, the words from the child's mouth formed a perfect sentence.
"Aren't you scared, Dad?"
A sudden curiosity from his son, who had been playing with a toy fire truck.
Then, "Dad is…."
The moment his father's lips began to move—
Beautiful image of father and son vanishes in sudden light.
"Gasp?! Cough, cough!"
Woojin jolted awake, face flushed, sprawled on the ground, gasping ragged breaths.
"W-what? Why am I…."
He clearly remembered the bus exploding, followed by the split-second mission failed message…. And not just that. The excruciating pain that hit his entire body the moment it exploded—pain he'd never felt before in his life—was vividly etched into his mind.
That level of explosion and agony should have killed him outright. Was he resurrected? What the hell was going on?
The surprises didn't end there. Woojin stood, hands trembling as he patted himself down. His eyes widened.
"No wounds…."
How? He didn't even have time to process it.
> Hey, Lee Geon-woo! Respond!
> You're not dead, right? Please!
The fire chief's voice crackled urgently over the radio.
Woojin replied in a daze.
"Yes, Chief. Baek… no, Lee Geon-woo here."
> Ha, you crazy bastard… You know you just dipped your toes in the River Jordan?
Huh, that dialogue felt awfully familiar? Woojin shook his throbbing head and quickly scanned his surroundings. The tunnel entrance loomed ahead. This virtual world had thrown one unexpected domino after another, scattering his thoughts, so above all, he needed calm.
Exhaling slowly, he gathered his mind, and the picture started to form.
First, his current position made it clear: He'd ignored the chief's order to stand by, charged into the flames, broken through to the other side—and respawned right after.
Then, like reciting the alphabet in order, rational deductions lined up one by one.
'So, does that mean….'
A mission naturally ended in 【Success】 or 【Failure】. Success brought rewards, so failure demanded a price.
'And that price is… resetting until success?'
It reminded him of the "Sisyphus's boulder" from a Greek-Roman mythology book he'd read as a kid. This virtual world was a kind of infinite loop, escapable only by mission success.
"……."
> Hey, Lee Geon-woo! You listening?!
Lost in thought, Woojin didn't respond, so the chief shouted louder.
"Ah, yes…."
> When you get back, it's report-writing first….
"Sorry, sir."
> …Just glad you're alive, you idiot! How's the situation there?
As expected. The scenario flowed word-for-word the same. Which meant,
"Tunnel's thick with smoke. Bus is tilted, about twenty passengers inside. Fire's spreading to the rear."
> Flames at the engine….
"If it flips, another explosion's likely."
He didn't need to see it himself; he already knew and predicted everything. Success odds were higher now. Hope glimmered.
> Move carefully. Keep reporting.
"Got it."
> One more thing, Lee Geon-woo. Your safety matters. Your life is their lives. Got it?
As Woojin ran toward the tunnel, the chief's radio matched the previous loop. The order was a bit jumbled, but that could shift with his responses.
Crash! Entering the tunnel, Woojin smashed a rear window just like before, wedging his axe between the bus and ground. No hesitation this time. Failure was the mother of success, right? The lesson: time is everything.
Cold assessment: Him plus two firefighters, no heavy gear, bare-handed against a bus explosion? Impossible. Twenty survivors still inside a bus moments from crashing and exploding. To beat this insane mission, one answer: Rescue more, faster, alone—until Won Jong-su and Moon Hee-yeon arrived.
Woojin squeezed every last drop of strength.
1/21
2/213/21 …
The chime—welcome yet anxiety-inducing—rang on.
First rescue, he'd saved ten alone when Jong-su and Hee-yeon arrived….
7/218/21
'Hurry….'
But rushing drained stamina fast; limbs shook.
'Not enough yet!'
Head spinning, vision doubling, but 'Not yet, no, please… listen to me, damn it!' Woojin couldn't stop. The curse spilling from his lips showed his desperation.
10/21
Numbers rose, but his thirst deepened.
Thud.
"Gasp!"
Exiting the tunnel, Woojin set down the kids in his arms.
11/2112/21
Still not enough, but more than before.
"Cough… urk!"
Body wrecked, on the verge of collapse. Coughs racked him; nausea overwhelmed. Woojin yanked off his helmet and vomited.
Swipe.
Having emptied everything, as he reached for his helmet to stand—
"Geon-woo!"
"Sunbae, we're here!"
That moment. Voices as welcome as the chime: Won Jong-su and Moon Hee-yeon. Finally….
"You okay?"
"Yeah…."
"Can you stand?"
"I'm fine—survivors first… no time!"
"Right. Hee-yeon!"
"Yes, sunbae!"
Won Jong-su and Moon Hee-yeon entered the tunnel. Woojin steadied his ragged breaths and followed.
Time… no time.
Tick-tock.
The second hand echoed like an auditory hallucination. Woojin steadied his wobbling body and dragged heavy steps forward.
Calm down. Recap.
First rescue: Ten alone. Then Jong-su and Hee-yeon got three more. One with Hee-yeon as the bus flipped. Fourteen secured when the accident hit.
Exact time unknown, but—
Tap-tap-tap.
One more hand would change everything. No way they'd give an impossible mission! If so, he'd rip the diary to shreds upon return.
Woojin approached the bus. Inside, Jong-su and Hee-yeon worked rescue.
"Jong-su, Hee-yeon!"
They turned. Woojin continued.
"Hee-yeon, get out of the bus first!"
"Pardon?"
"What do you mean, sunbae?"
Bus flips, game over. Needed to lighten the load inside.
"Too risky if it tips—get out!"
Moon Hee-yeon glanced puzzled between them. Won Jong-su said,
"Geon-woo wouldn't say it lightly. Go."
"Ah, yes!"
As she exited, Woojin yanked the axe free.
Crash!
He smashed the front windshield.
"Jong-su pulls survivors; Hee-yeon and I carry and run."
Best way. Shave every second.
They nodded; the three moved in sync.
13/2114/21 … 18/21
Count climbed. Bus held—for now.
"Whew."
"Kids all out."
Eighteen kids safe. Two adults left: teacher and driver.
"Hee-yeon, move kids to safety. Jong-su and I finish."
"Got it."
"Hurry!"
Woojin entrusted the kids to her and reentered. Jong-su had already moved the teacher out.
"Geon-woo, take the woman."
"You?"
"Driver next. Go!"
Woojin glanced at the tilt. Risky, but holding.
"Okay. Careful."
Shouldering the teacher, he headed out. Clearing the entrance—
19/21
Almost there. Lay her down, help Jong-su.
Sighing in relief, reentering—
Boom!
"No… no! Damn it!!!"
Woojin sprinted madly. Dread confirmed. Bus flipped, rear flames roaring. Like a puppet, trembling hand outstretched.
"Jon…."
Time merciless, no moment spared.
KABOOM!
Before words finished, explosion. Hell returned. Body incinerating. Throat burned first—no scream.
But—
All survivors not rescued.
More painful than agony: the message he'd dreaded, confirming failure.
* * *
"Aren't you scared, Dad?"
"Scared of what?"
"Going into the fire."
"Dad is…."
Father stroked young Woojin's head.
"No. What do you think, son? I'm curious."
"Hmm…."
Young Woojin pondered, then spoke.
"Probably scary, but…."
"But?"
Father looked intrigued. The child continued.
"You still have to go in!"
"Why's that, son?"
"'Cause you're the best firefighter!"
"Hahaha! Oh, my kid. Who'd you get this smarts from~?"
Father patted his cheeks. With that—
Image vanishes in light.
"Argh!"
Woojin awoke again, body shaking. Face pale, limbs trembling uncontrollably. A physical reaction born of emotion.
That emotion:
"……."
The primal fear humans feel facing ultimate terror. Instinctual dread.