A Reason to Survive
"You don't have a girlfriend, do you?"
No, I didn't.
The question came with no context and no consideration whatsoever. So after agonizing over it for a good long while, I shot one back of my own.
"What did I do wrong?"
"Ah, was that too out of nowhere? Haha, no, you didn't do anything wrong…"
Kwon Mu-seop was waving his hands in a flurry of denial when—
BANG—!
The door flew open and Kim Woo-in stormed in.
"Why are you keeping a patient hostage this long?"
"We're just about finished."
"Then just finish it. What's so important about whether he has a girlfriend right now?"
Kim Woo-in fired back the instant Cha Si-eon responded. Apparently he'd been listening to everything from outside. Rushing to the rescue the moment a patient's crisis was detected—now that was a truly dedicated physician.
"Get up already. Stop tormenting the patient and get the hell out."
Kim Woo-in sauntered over and began hammering the back of his hand against Kwon Mu-seop's shoulder, whap whap. So Section Chief Kwon really was everyone's punching bag.
"I'm not tormenting him. I just think he might need it, that's all."
Kwon Mu-seop held his ground under Kim Woo-in's contempt. And so the same question resurfaced in my mind. What on earth did I do wrong?
As I sat lost in thought, Kwon Mu-seop asked, "Do-woon, you said your goal was to survive, right?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I want to live…?"
"That's a feeling, not a reason."
"I'm afraid I don't follow the point of the question."
"I'm asking whether you have a reason that makes saving yourself non-negotiable."
Excuse me—does anyone need a *reason* to look after their own life? When I made my bafflement plain, Kwon Mu-seop added lightly, "If it doesn't come to you right away, then you don't have one. And if you don't have one, you ought to make one."
"As a girlfriend?"
"A lover makes for powerful motivation."
Nod nod—
He even nodded along with himself as he said it. But I didn't think that was a particularly good approach. Kim Woo-in apparently felt the same, muttering flatly, "Your own body is your own to look after. What kind of person outsources the reason to keep it alive to someone else?"
Exactly. That's right. Reasons and motivations were things a person ought to furnish for themselves. Pressing an innocent bystander into service for my personal circumstances would simply be bad manners.
Once Kim Woo-in and I had allied ourselves in shared discomfort, Kwon Mu-seop hurried to clarify. "Of course it's best when you can do it on your own. But Do-woon here already has a rather illustrious track record."
Track record?
Kim Woo-in turned to look at me at Kwon Mu-seop's cryptic remark. Then he abruptly stationed himself beside the section chief and began nodding along in solidarity. "Some people do need backup."
"Right?"
"I was already planning to clear him for going out. Once that waist heals, he should get out for a bit."
"Perfect timing. Do-woon, go get some fresh air."
"Go meet some people, too."
Why are these people doing this to me? Is whether or not I have a lover really the kind of thing a doctor needs to weigh in on? Utterly unable to make sense of it, I looked down at Kwon Mu-seop's hand.
He spread his fingers open for me to see. "I don't have one."
Sure enough, there was no ring on those scar-riddled fingers. Surprising. He looked the type to have married early and lived under his wife's thumb.
My gaze drifted, unbidden, toward Cha Si-eon. And once again Kwon Mu-seop answered for him. "Si-eon doesn't have one either."
Well, that was the correct outcome. For the sake of one woman's life, and for the sake of our next generation. In any case, when it came to being girlfriend-less, everyone in this room was in the same boat.
"Then why is it just me—"
"The rest of us are people for whom this is already everything. You aren't."
"I'm sorry?"
"Besides, Do-woon, you're surprisingly reckless."
I had no idea what he was talking about. When I stared blankly at Kwon Mu-seop, he let out a rueful laugh and elaborated. "When you handed Sol your ticket at the railroad station."
Ah.
"When you took off your mask at the hospital. And this time at the warehouse-style mart too. Honestly, reckless doesn't begin to cover it. Am I wrong?"
Kwon Mu-seop recited my history, and I had no choice but to nod. So that's what he meant by my "illustrious track record."
"And none of it was impulsive. Each one was a conclusion you thought through and chose deliberately. Not that I'm saying you were wrong. Frankly, your decisiveness commands respect. It's just—if the question is whether it serves your goal, then in my opinion? Not remotely."
That much I had to concede. It wasn't a wrong assessment at all.
"Of course, your goal of surviving is surely sincere. And in ordinary circumstances, there'd be no need to attach a reason to it. Survival is a perfectly natural instinct."
Having read my silent acquiescence, Kwon Mu-seop pressed on. "But your situation is special now, and you've already made choices that run counter to that instinct—several times. That's why you need a brake, Do-woon. Something that makes you hesitate—before you hand over your ticket, before you take off your mask."
Well. I had more or less thought the same thing myself. Right after I'd handed the ticket to Lee Sol. If I'd had family, I wouldn't have given my ticket away to some kid I barely knew.
But even so. Still.
"So you're telling me to get a girlfriend?"
"Doesn't have to be a girlfriend."
"I'd like a boyfriend even less…"
"No, I meant it doesn't have to be a lover at all… hmm. Right, you were in the book business. Very open-minded, as expected."
Kwon Mu-seop fumbled, flustered, then gathered himself and went on. "In any case—person, object, anything at all will do. So go make one. A reason you absolutely have to save yourself."
One week later.
By the time my body was nearly healed, I really did go on that outing. Section Chief Kwon came out to see me off for my very first excursion, giving me a meaningful little nod as I left. But no matter how much weight he tried to hang on me—
the place I was headed was my publisher.
My former workplace, which I'd called to resign over the phone and hadn't even finished clearing out my desk from since.
"Assistant Manager Seo! We heard the news—how are you feeling?"
"Assistant Manager Seo, you've been through so much. Are you all right?"
The people from the company came running the moment I walked in, appearing for the first time in three whole weeks. And then—
"Oh, his cousin came with him too?"
"Hello, cousin!"
Why were the people at my former workplace showering Gwak Jae-gyeom, who'd merely come along, with this much adoration?
"Hello, everyone! Hope you've all been well!"
What's more, Gwak Jae-gyeom was as bright and breezy as if he'd arrived at a family reunion…?
Even the editor-in-chief came over to slap Gwak Jae-gyeom on the shoulder. "I had no idea Assistant Manager Seo had such a handsome cousin. If I had a younger brother like you, I'd have been bragging about it ages ago."
"Aw, how could you not have known? Anyone who looks at my cousin knows I had to come out good-looking by association."
"Haha, and quick-witted too."
What is this? What is this unnecessary, effervescent warmth? And Gwak Jae-gyeom—you should gargle before you tell lies like that. My family tree contains no House of Gwak, not even at sixteen degrees of separation.
As I stood bewildered by the scene before me, the supervisor at the next desk leaned in with a hint. "Oh—did you not hear, by any chance?"
"Hear what?"
"Last month the company computers got hit with ransomware. Total meltdown. But your cousin here came in carrying your paperwork, and he cracked the ransomware encryption for us. All of it."
"…?"
Yes, I knew Gwak Jae-gyeom had come to the office in my place. There'd been various documents to submit for my resignation processing. But ransomware on the company PCs? And Gwak Jae-gyeom cracked it?
…That ransomware wasn't something the Bureau's people scattered around, was it?
The timing was awfully convenient, but in any case, thanks to that incident Gwak Jae-gyeom had somehow become, without my knowledge, our publishing house's resident hero, savior, and god of IT all rolled into one.
Fine, so far so good.
"But Assistant Manager Seo, we heard. You're actually a chaebol heir?"
"It's true. Wow, all this time you were just cosplaying as a commoner…"
"Oh, come on, it wasn't cosplay. It's not easy living alone with a family that big behind you, you know?"
"That's fair. Your cousin worried about you so much. You should go home and live well this time. Just don't forget us…"
"Right—Assistant Manager Seo's illness should be treated by the Seo family physician. Go home and get proper care. And never, ever forget us…"
"…"
What on earth did you do…
I stared at Gwak Jae-gyeom with my mouth shut. But Gwak Jae-gyeom absolutely refused to look at me. Just like that old team leader of mine once had, he was desperately, desperately avoiding my eyes.
In any case, we left the office with smiles on our faces. And the moment we climbed into the car and shut the doors, Gwak Jae-gyeom turned serious. "I'd like a chance to explain myself, hyung."
"Go ahead."
"It was a battle of sword and shield."
Gwak Jae-gyeom gripped the steering wheel and began unloading his mouth. "When I came by before, your boss suddenly said he'd put you on leave."
"So?"
"Refusing point-blank would've been suspicious, so I said you'd come down with an incurable illness that required long-term treatment."
"…And then?"
"Then your boss said it might be a misdiagnosis, that he'd refer you to a doctor he knew. So I said I'd already been to several major hospitals."
"And then?"
"He fact-checked me—asked how I'd gotten appointments when getting into a big hospital isn't easy—and the words just flew out of my mouth, that our grandfather is a corporate magnate on the level of a major chaebol family… and somehow, before I knew it, the story had become that your family disowned you because of your grandfather… and then that your family staged a dramatic reconciliation because your condition was grave…"
"Ha…"
"I'm sorry, hyung. I did think I should stop somewhere along the way, but it felt like stopping halfway would only make things blow up worse…"
Right, I understood the effort was well-intentioned. I also understood that he had thoroughly demolished the place I was meant to return to. But did this punk really have to go that far…?
As I heaved sigh after sigh, Gwak Jae-gyeom spoke up cautiously. "S-so, um, by any chance, do you ever think about coming back here?"
"Our industry's too small for that…"
"Ah. Um, then just tell them your cousin is sick! Has a bit of a delusional thing going on. Everyone at the office seemed to like you, so they might understand that much…?"
At Gwak Jae-gyeom's pathetic little proposal, I let out yet another sigh. Then I addressed the punk who was so busy watching my face that he still hadn't pulled out of the parking spot. "Enough. Just drive."
"Where to?"
"My place."
"And after that?"
"Pack up my things and enter the Bureau, obviously."
"Really? No one else you want to see?"
"No."
"Really, truly no one? The section chief said he'd let you have plenty of fun today…"
"…Do I look like a dog on a walk to you?"
The moment I said I'd just head back, Gwak Jae-gyeom started glancing at me sidelong and whimpering under his breath. It shouldn't be like this. The section chief gave me orders. And I don't want to go in yet either. That's what his eyes were saying.
At that nonverbal performance, I belatedly realized the truth. This punk hadn't been walking me. He'd been walking himself.
But I really did have nowhere to stop by. Besides, no amount of extra hours spent wandering around was going to solve the assignment Kwon Mu-seop had handed me.
Make a reason you absolutely have to save yourself, he'd said.
I could see the need for that directive. I'd genuinely spent the past week chewing on it. So what was my conclusion?
I still hadn't managed to make one. Honestly, part of me wondered whether I really had to at all…
Vrrrm—
"Hyung, something's coming in."
What now?
I checked my phone reflexively.
"Is it an ad, or a personal message?"
Gwak Jae-gyeom asked, his voice brimming with hope. …I wasn't particularly interested in feeding this punk's hopes. And yet, regrettably, what had just arrived was not an advertisement.
It was, at long last, a personal message—the kind I couldn't bring myself to ignore.