A Customer Named Baek Rahui
Baek Rahui. In the countless years I had repeated, she and I had encountered each other in truly diverse ways. Sometimes we were enemies, sometimes allies, and sometimes we merely joined hands for a brief time. Still, across all those numerous loops, there was one aspect in which she remained consistent.
“...I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
Baek Rahui had no talent for concealing her emotions. Her eyes widened, and she froze solid, as if someone had struck her across the head. The expression that looked ready to spill over with tears quickly shifted into a forced smile, but she couldn’t hide the transition itself.
“R-right, of course...” Her lips were trembling so visibly that I could see it from where I stood.
“Yes. May I take your order?”
“Ah. Order... Yes. I should order.”
She hurriedly turned her gaze to the menu board. It didn’t look like she was actually reading it, though. Her eyes kept circling the menu before darting back toward me, repeating the motion over and over.
“...An Americano, please.”
“Iced or hot?”
“Iced.”
“For here or to go?”
“To go, please.”
Order received. I handed her the pager and immediately began preparing the coffee. An iced Americano was one of the simplest items on the café menu.
Why is Baek Rahui here?
I narrowed my eyes. This was far too perfect a coincidence to be mere chance. More than that...
Why ask a question like that?
The one about whether I remembered her face. At this point in time, I was in a state of complete first acquaintance with Baek Rahui. We might have passed each other on the street a few times, but there had been no connection close enough for me to remember her face.
This is strange.
With a soft clink, I set the finished coffee on the counter. Baek Rahui approached immediately, as though she had been waiting for it. I watched her closely, eyes narrowed. The tip of her finger as she inserted the straw was trembling faintly.
“Um... you know. I’m not a suspicious person or anything.”
She smiled awkwardly.
“No matter how much I think about it, I’m certain you’re someone I know.”
Baek Rahui hesitated for a moment, then spoke carefully.
“By any chance... did you attend Korea University?”
“Huh? That’s right. How did you—”
“I-I’m an alumna of Korea University too.”
She added the words in a rush.
“That’s why your face looked familiar.”
The smile that accompanied her words was somehow mysterious. It didn’t seem like the expression of someone meeting a welcome acquaintance. It was closer to the face of a person who had coincidentally recovered something they had lost for a very long time.
Of course, it could have been my imagination. But at least in my eyes right now, that was how it looked.
“What was your major?”
“Korean Language and Literature.”
“Wow. Same here. This is really amazing. What a coincidence.”
She clapped her hands with exaggerated gestures. If it looked like she was acting, was that just my bias? No, it wasn’t. Baek Rahui was neither a Korean Language and Literature major nor a Korea University graduate. In other words, she was currently going so far as to lie in order to create a connection with me.
For now, I would play along.
“But you’re truly impressive. Opening a café couldn’t have been easy.”
“It’s only the beginning.”
“Even so.”
Baek Rahui gave a small laugh.
“The fact that you’re starting at all is already impressive.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
She lowered her gaze as though recalling something.
“There are more things in this world that end without ever beginning than you might think.”
“....”
“I’ve had quite a few of those myself.”
Though she had added the words playfully, what I felt first was not humor but a strange bitterness.
“...I truly, sincerely think it’s amazing.”
Before I knew it, Baek Rahui had drawn close to the counter. Close enough to feel slightly intrusive. Yet she seemed completely unaware of it as she continued to stare directly at my face.
After a brief silence, she asked in a low voice.
“By any chance... will you be working tomorrow as well?”
“It’s my shop. Unless something unusual comes up, I open every day.”
“Then... would it be all right if I came again at this same time tomorrow?”
“I don’t turn customers away.”
At my answer, the corners of Baek Rahui’s mouth lifted slightly.
“My name is Baek Rahui.”
I already knew it. After all, it was the name I had given her. White Baek, to spread Ra, and shining Hui. A name I had chosen with the meaning of scattering light even within darkness.
“What is your name, sunbae?”
I let out a small, inward chuckle. From the very title of sunbae, her intentions were blatantly obvious.
“I’m Shin Suhan.”
“...Shin Suhan.”
She spoke my name slowly. Soon her lips softened into a gentle curve.
“It’s a good name.”
Highlighted Memory
After Baek Rahui left, I sank into thought.
At this point, Baek Rahui should not have escaped the research institute yet.
Baek Rahui was one of the victims of illegal human experimentation conducted at a secret laboratory run by a major corporation. The so-called Prometheus Project. The name was chosen to signify a new species that surpassed the limits of ordinary humanity.
Unless a major variable occurred, Baek Rahui should still be trapped inside that lab.
It had been a full year from now when she would destroy the research institute and announce her name to the world.
Tap. Tap. I lightly drummed my fingers on my smartphone as I checked the news feed.
It’s changed.
What should have happened a year from now was already unfolding. This was something that could never have occurred with the original Baek Rahui. The meaning was obvious.
Judging by her reaction, it hasn’t been long since she regressed.
The strongest evidence supporting that conclusion was simple.
She’s still clumsy.
If it had been me, I would never have acted so flashily. I would have done everything possible to avoid creating a massive turning point connected to the pursuers who would be dispatched afterward.
It was too crude and weak to be called the work of a seasoned regressor. So what should I do?
If there are two regressors, things will progress far faster than working alone.
And the other regressor was Baek Rahui. Given how well she had built favor until now, she would likely follow my lead without resistance.
The problem was that this particular loop was my designated vacation season. In truth, the 100th loop was not merely a symbolic milestone for me. Long ago, I had decided that I would rest during exactly this loop, and I had been looking forward to it immensely.
To a regressor, a promise is more important than anything else. The reason I had endured until now was precisely because of the promises I had made in previous loops. Among those, promises to myself were like an anchor—something that kept me sane and grounded amid a cycle where everything could vanish overnight.
You could call it stubbornness. You could call it narrow-mindedness. Either way, it was that very trait that had allowed me to endure this long.
I will definitely rest during this 100th loop.
I firmed my resolve once more.
*
Are you stupid, Baek Rahui....
Baek Rahui felt like sinking to the floor and burying her flushed cheeks in both hands. Her original plan had not been this reckless. She had intended to begin a natural conversation as an ordinary customer, slowly build points of connection, and grow closer little by little. That had definitely been the plan.
She knew his tastes and interests better than anyone—knowledge gained from careful observation throughout her past life. Based on that, she had imagined the flow of conversations they might exchange over several days, written multiple pages of scripted dialogue in a notebook, and memorized them thoroughly. It had been an extremely meticulous preparation.
Why did I suddenly ask if he knew me back there....
It was mortifying. So embarrassing she wanted to die. What was even worse was the memory of Shin Suhan’s slightly uncomfortable eyes as he said it seemed like their first meeting. How anxiously she had studied that expression. It was a memory too horrible to revisit.
Still... Sunbae really doesn’t exist in this world anymore.
The thought suddenly flashed through Baek Rahui’s mind. The Shin Suhan she had depended on and loved no longer existed in this world. The man inside the café was closer to a complete stranger, unrelated to the person she remembered.
You already knew that, Baek Rahui.
She clutched the hem of her skirt so tightly it felt like the fabric might tear.
That there was no way Sunbae would remember me... that there was no chance he would even faintly recall my face... I knew that much, at least.
Had she secretly hoped for a miracle like those found in novels—that he might recognize her through some vague sense of déjà vu? Either way, Baek Rahui thought it was selfish. Because remembering her would mean repeating those horrible memories from their past lives.
“...It’s fine.”
She could build new memories and new recollections one by one from now on. This time, truly from the beginning.
“Captain.”
Someone called out to her. When she turned, the interior of an abandoned factory came into view. The comrades who had escaped the laboratory with her stood there, staring at her in silence.
“I interrogated him for a long time, but it was a failure. I used every form of torture I could think of, but he refused to speak.”
“You did well.”
Baek Rahui rose from her seat.
“I’ll handle the rest, so the rest of you should rest now.”
Her comrades nodded. Their eyes toward her were filled with unwavering trust. In a way, it was only natural. The sole reason they had survived after escaping the laboratory was Baek Rahui’s own skill and leadership.
“Ugh... uuuugh...”
A man’s groan reached her ears. She lowered her gaze slightly. A blood-covered man was writhing on the floor.
“So.”
Her lips curved into a smile.
“How does it feel to be bitten by a lab rat?”
“S-Subject 1...”
“I go by Baek Rahui now.”
She corrected him in a gentle voice.
“You should at least get my name right.”
The researcher’s face turned deathly pale. Baek Rahui looked down at him with one knee bent, as if his reaction amused her.
“...Just kill me.”
The researcher pressed his lips tightly together. From his firmly sealed mouth, a desperate resolve never to speak could clearly be felt. To Baek Rahui, it was merely ridiculous.
“Seo Taeho. Correct?”
“...!”
“Born in Suwon. Three children. A patriot. Your wife’s name is Kim Huiyeon. Your parents are still alive...”
As his personal information began pouring from her lips one detail after another, the researcher’s eyes shook violently.
“H-how in the world...”
“I wonder why?”
At her answer, the researcher began to falter. Baek Rahui hummed a light tune and knelt on one knee to meet his gaze directly.
“I’ll give you one special chance.”
“....”
“There are people who escaped the lab, aren’t there?”
Baek Rahui smiled brightly.
“All you have to do is tell me where they are.”
The way to move a person was simpler than expected. Threats, persuasion, torture—those methods had their uses, but nothing was more effective than striking at their weakness. And for most humans, family was the greatest weakness of all.
“D-don’t do this...”
“....”
“They don’t know anything. They’re truly ordinary civilians...”
“We were the same.”
Baek Rahui spoke calmly.
“Until we were dragged into the lab.”
Seo Taeho’s face hardened like stone. In that instant, he realized that hoping for even a sliver of mercy from Baek Rahui was a luxury.
“So, your answer?”
Seo Taeho eventually opened his mouth. The locations of the escaped researchers. Their hiding places. The names of their collaborators. He vomited up everything he knew. And, as promised, Baek Rahui granted him a death without pain.
“Captain.”
Soon one of her subordinates spoke cautiously.
“What should we do now?”
She slowly looked down at the coffee in her hand.
“Well...”
To be precise, it wasn’t the coffee but the paper holder. Her fingertips gently traced the surface of the paper. She knew it was a foolish thing to do. There was no way his body heat remained on it, and a mere scrap of paper could not possibly hold any special meaning. Yet strangely, she could not let it go.
“...Should we depart immediately?”
“Right now? We’ve been resting, so it’s fine for us, but what about you, Captain?”
Baek Rahui did not answer for a moment.
The words she had casually spoken inside the café resurfaced. A faint smile formed on Baek Rahui’s lips.
“We can rest tomorrow.”