Freefall Without Fear
A bungee jump platform in some provincial backwater. Sixty-three meters high. Taller than your average short apartment building. Down at the base, two staffers in fluorescent vests murmur to each other.
"Last jumper of the day?"
"Yeah."
They nudge a rubber boat by the riverbank with their feet. Their job? Paddle out to scoop up guests dangling after their plunge, unhook their safety gear, and haul 'em back aboard.
"Gonna take one call and be right back."
"Hey."
"It'll be quick. Takes like ten minutes for 'em to jump anyway."
Way up top, a faint figure stands on the platform—but no way they're dropping right away. Bungee jumping. Most folks think it's just a simple thrill, strapping on gear and leaping. But once they're up there? The imagination runs wild.
"True. Hit the edge, and every damn thought floods in."
Mostly the worst-case scenarios. Gear fails from poor maintenance. Harness snaps mid-fall. Cord tangles and crushes you. Miscalculated drop slams you into the river. Rare as hell, sure—but not like it's never happened in history.
"Even that 0.001% chance feels personal when it's you—"
"Whoa whoa whoa! They're jumping!"
"Huh?"
The staffers' heads whip around at the sight of the guest plummeting like it's nothing. Ballsy one. Shaking off all those nightmares and leaping anyway? The rush you get defies words. Watching the cord trail under the blue sky, a strange anticipation lights up their faces.
"Oh."
"Oh."
Truth is, one of their secret perks is catching the expressions on falling guests' faces. The raw human mask. Adrenaline exploding after conquering that primal terror of death. Pure liberation. Electric thrill. Untamed emotion. Something so primal it tugs at something deep in your chest every time—
"·········?"
"·········?"
But their faces twist weird. The falling guest is close enough now to make out details.
"·········!"
"·········!"
Recognition hits. No way.
The two stay silent long after the guy finishes his drop over the water. Dangling there, staring like he's waiting for pickup. Finally, they shove off in the boat, exchanging baffled looks.
"That's him, right?"
"Totally."
From the moment his face came into view, not a flicker of change. Like some enlightened monk or stone Buddha. But it wasn't just the unnatural calm that floored them—miles beyond the usual jumpers.
"That guy earlier too..."
"What the hell is his deal?"
From morning till closing. This dude jumped five times today.
Lee Tae-gyu, 30 years old. A man who'd lost his heartbeat somewhere along the way.
"·········Thanks for your hard work."
How long had it been since he stepped out? A piercing scream echoed from behind, raw thrill ripping through the air. Woooaaahhh— He envied it. The ordinary lives that could dive deep into the moment with just one jump.
"Life's so damn boring..."
Yeah. Tae-gyu was bone-tired of his own existence, rolling along as limply as the footsteps carrying him down the hill. Thud... thud...
Lately, immersion in life felt impossible. No joy in the daily grind, no anticipation for tomorrow. When was the last time he'd felt truly alive? Thud... thud...
Last belly laugh? A good cry? Rage boiling over? Hell, even a sharp, vivid emotion to paint over the blandness? His emotional range had shrunk. It hadn't always been this muted—he couldn't pinpoint when it started. But staring at the sky, he'd mostly accepted it.
Drifting white clouds. Like them floating aimlessly, his life would drift on, dull and dry, until it scattered somewhere. It used to hurt. Now? He'd made peace and was flailing for any improvement.
"·········One to Dong Seoul Terminal, please."
At the bus terminal, he bought a ticket north to Seoul. Sighing, he waited by the platform's smoking booth, lighting up. Click.
This habit? Started wondering if it could spark something. Not a psychopath, mind you. Vivid emotions had faded, but faint ones lingered. Take now.
"Ahem."
A disheveled old man in a threadbare suit shuffles up, clearing his throat.
"I, uh, lost my wallet... Not usually a beggar, but my nephew's wedding's tomorrow... Lost my phone too, total disaster... Gotta get to Seoul somehow, can't impose but—"
A flicker of pity. For this wrinkled face etched with dried tear tracks.
"Seoul, you say?"
"Y-yeah."
"Dong Seoul?"
"Yes, yes! Just the ticket, I'll repay you somehow, please if you can manage—"
"Here. It's yours."
"Th-thank you! Truly!"
The old man grabs his hand. Tae-gyu wasn't stupid—scam crossed his mind. But seeing the guy bow nonstop, clutching the real Dong Seoul ticket? He shrugged it off and boarded. Plop.
Coincidentally, they got seats side by side. But after three vows to repay the favor, silence fell.
"······."
"······."
The bus roared toward Seoul. Vrooom— By highway speed, Tae-gyu stared out the window, lost in thought.
Built it up too much, maybe.
Today's bungee jump underwhelmed. A slight tremor, sure—but not worth the trip from Seoul. Still, not over yet. World was vast, untried thrills everywhere.
Wonder about this weekend.
A quirky part-time gig lined up. Underground stuff, barely advertised—bound to be a wild ride. He was braced. No drugs or crime, but if this boredom lingered...
Better pan out.
Worst case, maybe dip into loan sharking—
"Loan sharking? Hell no."
Misheard at first. But the old man's follow-up snapped Tae-gyu's eyes wide.
"Bored enough for that? You'd lose your mind."
"·········Pardon?"
"Gimme your hand."
"My hand?"
"No tip needed. I owe you."
Reading minds?
"Close enough."
"!"
Before Tae-gyu could react, the old man snatched his hand. Thump! His eyes bulged—not just shock, but the rare swell of emotion pulsing stronger than usual. Heart racing, he stared.
The old man tsked, peering between palm and face before declaring:
"·········Pathetic case. Rare sight."
Tae-gyu opened his mouth—
"Smile."
"Huh?"
"That issue? Smile often, it'll fix itself naturally."
"No—"
"You just thought, 'Shouldn't it make me wanna smile first?'"
No way.
"Listen up. You don't smile because you feel like it—you feel it because you smile."
Dead serious. From a guy who'd peeked into his head? Hard to dismiss. Mystic? Sage? Whatever, Tae-gyu leaned in.
"·········This funny enough?"
A chuckle nearly escaped. The old man—pushing eighty?—had hiked his brows like inverted V's, thrust out his chin, mouth agape in a cartoonish grimace.
Slapstick wasn't Tae-gyu's jam, but in this vibe? Irresistible.
"Al... almost laughed."
"Like it?"
"Y-yeah, hilarious."
"Wanna learn it?"
Over-the-top cartoon reply, jaw jutting, upper lip curled—mumbled, but clear enough.
"Think I got it without pointers."
"Memorize."
"The face?"
"Yeah. It'll help. Then suck in with your right hand, spit out with left."
"What do you—"
"Can't say more. You'll figure it soon."
With that cryptic line, he reset his face, patted Tae-gyu's shoulder with a puzzled grin.
"Sleep first."
Sudden, irresistible drowsiness crashed over him.
"Sir, wake up."
Tae-gyu stirred from bus sleep long after reaching Dong Seoul Terminal.
"Sir!"
"······!?"
The driver's shake jolted him. Blinking awake, first thing he sought: that old man.
"Ex-excuse me, the guy who sat next to me—"
"Pardon?"
"The old guy here earlier."
"What? No one sat there this whole trip."
"·········What?!"
"Oh, King Sejong? Haha, good one. Grab your cash and go—we're here."
Just bills on the seat. Exact fare for the ticket the old man had covered. Eerie.
·······What the hell?
Hustled off with his bag, Tae-gyu hit the terminal bathroom. Still no answers on the old man or what went down. Lingering questions swirled as—
"Yes!"
"Eek!"
"Whoa, for real!"
Cheering yanked his head around. Central waiting area. Folks glued to a big monitor's live feed.
Broadcast awards. He'd care normally. Tae-gyu dug dramas and films. Stories cranking extreme emotions you can't get in dull daily life—perfect escape immersion.
And this was Do Kwang-seon. The living legend. Tae-gyu had binged his works.
What'd he say again?
Mind still foggy. Eyes on the screen, but replaying the bus surrealness—especially that killer moment.
'This face'll help,' he said?
Mimicking the old man's goofy grimace, Tae-gyu twitched his facial muscles on reflex!
Twitch.
A ghostly flame flickered to life!
- "First off, my heartfelt thanks..."
By the actor's face on the massive screen, reciting his speech.
'·········Huh?'
Something like dokkaebi fire ignited. Whoosh!