Tiger (2)
Mist drifted through the silence.
It felt almost alive.
Writhing like something breathing.
...Now that I think about it, I get it. Noise is a hundred times better than this quiet.
I reached my conclusion. It was an ironclad fact.
Silence could fray nerves worse than any distraction.
...But what can you do? This is how it turned out.
I crouched to cool the sweat soaking my dress shirt and scanned my surroundings.
No one around.
Just me.
No special reason for that.
Let me rewind a bit.
Section Chief Jo didn't just take my opinion seriously—he treated it like an urgent task that demanded resolution.
"Sung-jin, you're right."
He agreed we faced a dire threat, where one slip could lead to irreversible disaster.
"So... we're fucked."
That was why I ended up alone.
After agonizing deliberation, that's what he said.
"Post-Special Duty Division, all personnel—disperse now. As I said before, no radio unless absolutely necessary. And execute the plan, even if imperfectly."
Amid the rising mist and the moon's cold, glinting edge.
"Here's your assignment. Everyone except Assistant Manager Oh Sung-jin—lure the unidentified anomaly tentatively named Dream Tiger."
Just like that, a crushing burden landed on my shoulders.
Maybe despair was inevitable.
...Back to now.
Pushing through the fog felt like wandering a dream.
And dreams were humanity's darkest creation.
What was that shaking between the trees?
A hand? Or just moonlight playing tricks?
Or a branch's shadow? If so, what about those gleaming eyes inside it?
Was this even reality?
....
Maybe I was asleep.
Rationalizing that I'd wake soon, stumbling through an eternal dream maze> maze forever maze maze maze forever maze maze forever maze forever maze.
And slowly dying. It'd look peaceful from the outside. The kind of death many crave, aside from happening too young.
A random thought, but it felt truer than anything.
Yet I knew it wasn't true.
And I couldn't stop thinking it precisely because I knew.
Truth could breed more anxiety than the unknown.
So I walked.
Clinging to the faint glow of my smartphone flashlight—like a firefly's tail against the moon, dark woods, and steep mountain path.
I walked.
Rest doesn't suit me. Fact. And I hate that fact.
Gripping my swollen ankle, ignoring the shadow waving from the treeline amid barren trees, I kept walking. And walking.
And at the end of it, I realized something.
I was afraid.
Snap.
A sound from the bushes.
Snap, snap.
It's coming.
Snap, snap, snap.
It's approaching.
And then.
It stopped.
"......"
I drew my pistol from inside my jacket. My index finger trembled on the trigger like an aspen leaf. One twitch, and a stray bullet would scar a tree across the forest.
Or pierce my own foot.
I still remembered firearm safety rules, but I couldn't shift my finger to the guard. It felt too bold, too reckless.
Deep breath. The air rasped in my lungs, sharp and eerie beyond words.
"I know you're there."
I whispered.
"I've got a gun. .44 Magnum, seven rounds loaded. Catalog says it punches through police body armor easy. Even takes down bears."
Not to someone else—to myself.
"I know you can't trust catalog specs fully. Impulse, barrel length—none of that matters much in use. Yeah, I'm a businessman. I get how 'b budget budget budget' cheap off-the-shelf stuff is made."
Sweat pooled in my palm, unrelenting.
But still.
"Even so......"
I bluffed. Kept up a front of confidence, at least outwardly.
The future was still in my hands. Even if the situation dimmed and darkened, anxiety crawling up my spine, gooseflesh consuming me.
"This'll sting pretty bad."
It wasn't over yet.
I eased the trigger back a hair. One millimeter, and the striker would move.
Rustle.
Another sound, and a shadow surged from the bushes.
About my size. Crunch—stepping on leaves.
No animal musk.
......I lowered the muzzle.
"D-don't shoot......"
"No, you can't go out there!"
Two people.
A woman and a man.
Kim Mun-ho and Joo Han-ul emerged from the bushes.
"......"
"......"
Words were pointless at gunpoint. Natural silence fell, and I didn't force any.
Unlike my earlier feigned menace. Things were going sideways, prospects dim.
But that wasn't what sealed my lips......
What stopped me was a line from a future document I'd write.
Its author: me.
Objectively, I'm exceptional. Graduated top university in Korea, landed a spot in a top conglomerate by mid-twenties.
Likewise, future 'me' is exceptional. They'd have tried everything I could think of.
Even the foolish moves I haven't tried yet.
And all failed. Just like the mountain of failures that forged current me.
In other words.
What I needed wasn't untested actions—but repeating what was done.
Or rather, doing what was possible.
Like my creed.
Reflect on now.
Events from the 'three-views-kill video' were unfolding.
I'd met Kim Mun-ho and Joo Han-ul, just like in it.
'The future where I die hasn't changed yet.'
Which meant...
'The future's still under my control.'
And I could change it.
......Inspiration struck.
I eyed them suspiciously. Natural, after my act.
Time to use it.
"Oh, it's you all. Doing well?"
Acting.
"You slipped our eyes nicely. How'd you manage that?"
Deceiving.
"Looks like the point for fruitful talk has passed."
What was I even saying?
No idea.
"So, you all......"
One clear thing.
"You'll follow me."
I had to head to the fated future.
Like entering the tiger's den to catch one.
"This isn't a suggestion. You're my hostages. Understood?"
Words as violence, for that purpose.
Explaining amicably and seeking consent? Tough in this mess.
"If my words don't sit well, hear out this guy. No yes or no with him."
Muttering that, I felt awkward at my own line, then shoved the muzzle forward. Kim Mun-ho flinched; Joo Han-ul's eyes widened.
"......No answer. That counts as agreement, right?"
They nodded.
Initiative mine now.
'Good. Success.'
Now I fully got why 'three why 'me' in the 'three-views-kill video' had to toughen up.
The future doc from the trait, 'Report on the Dream Tiger', had gaps galore.
'Told me to follow directives, but not a single one listed.'
Had to be 'my' intent.
Sometimes blanks say more than words.
Yes. Intent. That's key.
At least this moment, embody the month's top employee, company spirit and all.
We climbed the mountain. As 'I' intended.
We reached the Jangseung forest. Also as intended.
And inside: Point 2, the shaman's house.
There, warp and weft of clues tangle into thread; the flow's needle pierces past and future through now, opening the path.
Just before entering, I warned them.
"No sounds from now on. Even breathing carefully. Small noises might be okay......"
A lie. Jangseung forest anomaly only triggers above certain volume.
"Well, testing it could be fun. Though the price for curiosity's curiosity's steep."
Lying to hold my grip.
'People are less rational than you think. Keep tension taut.'
I confirmed their pale nods, then stepped into the forest.
The Jangseung loomed, peering down.
Their forms in the dark held something uncanny.
"Eek—."
Joo Han-ul behind me swallowed a gasp. That instant.
Crack—.
A bone-twisting sound, and every Jangseung in the forest turned its head.
No illusion this time, unlike daytime.
These Jangseung really moved at night. Ghosts, basically.
Tied to tales—the underworld creation myth's backstory for Dangsan Dowon.
But no time for that now......
"......"
Terror-struck Joo Han-ul clamped her mouth. Reflex, but spot-on.
Crack—. Rustle-rustle-rustle-rustle. Jangseung heads turned back. A few leaves fluttered down.
Know what extreme fear does to people?
Seals their lips. Like Joo Han-ul.
Thanks to that, I kept some composure.
Yeah. I was scared.
Perfectly natural.
I was a civilian not long ago. No tolerance for this.
Like Guan Yu weeping for his scraped arm bone from Hua Tuo, I wanted to collapse, bawl, call for Mom.
'Tears blurring my vision......'
But no. Duty outweighed fear now.
I quickened my pace. To finish before the shoulder load flattened me.