Marine Park Ji-hoon.
Marine Park Ji-hoon.
Park Ji-hoon was always a talkative bastard, but once he joined the military, he started sending a fuckton of letters.
- Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me. Save me.
- Why does this shit only happen to me, why am I the only miserable one, goddammit! Hurry up and get your ass in here and roll around too.
Park Ji-hoon was annoying as hell, but I still felt sorry for him, so I wrote back often.
- Hanging out with Da-yeon at the PC bang, sweet as hell~
- Busy running around having a crazy good time, don't bother me.
While Park Ji-hoon was rolling around in the military, I had a peaceful time traveling with my dad or doing a ton of shopping with Da-yeon.
Every so often I'd go hang out with Alpha and Beta along with Da-yeon, or go on fishing trips, lazing around and enjoying a rest that was sweet as honey.
Da-yeon and I had made plans to travel to Australia, and for transportation we made use of the private jet free-use pass I'd won way back when I beat Jeong Seong-hoon, 9-dan.
As for why we suddenly headed to Australia, I guess you could say I got curious about what Han Jong-su was up to.
The bastard had been posting pictures of himself on social media for a while, then suddenly went quiet.
So without letting Han Jong-su know, I secretly boarded a flight to Australia with Da-yeon.
Once we arrived in Australia, the very first thing we did was head to a restaurant Da-yeon had found.
We sat inside, looking over the menu.
Da-yeon, sitting across from me, must have had something she really wanted to eat, because she ordered a fish dish called barramundi. I ordered a meat pie.
"What do you think Jong-su's doing?"
"Mm... if he's working, wouldn't it be picking blueberries in a greenhouse or something?"
"That sounds fun~"
It'd probably be hell for the person actually doing the work, but it did seem like it could be fun to try for a bit.
Squatting down, picking those little blueberries, maybe popping one into your mouth if it looked tasty.
We were each looking at our phones while chatting, and before we knew it, the food came out.
There are a few good things about being famous.
One of them is that when you go to a restaurant, they put care into the presentation and try to explain each dish to you at your table.
But Da-yeon and I had the experience from gallivanting abroad, so we handed the waiter a tip to make it clear we wanted to be left alone.
Once the food arrived, Da-yeon's eyes sparkled as she looked at her dish.
"I really wanted to try this!"
"Oh~ it does look tasty~"
I waited for Da-yeon, who was taking pictures, and looked down at my meat pie.
I poked it with my fork; the outside was crispy, and once the fork passed through the crust, it slid in with a light touch, which sparked my appetite.
Taking a bite, I could see why Da-yeon had called this place a good restaurant.
The outside was crisp, and inside, the tomato-based sauce mingled with the meat juices as it flowed out, everything coming together perfectly.
"Oh..."
"Is it good?"
"Yeah. Wanna try?"
I put some mashed potatoes and peas marinated in sauce onto my fork and fed it to Da-yeon.
Da-yeon, whose eyes were sparkling, chewed for a moment before gulping it down.
"Wow... I should've ordered this too..."
This taste and texture was definitely more Da-yeon's style than mine.
We finished eating and went outside.
The routine was always that Da-yeon found the restaurants and I found the desserts, so I immediately took Da-yeon and headed to an ice cream shop I had looked up.
After playing around with Da-yeon for a good while, we got into my Blackie, which a bodyguard had brought over.
The Maklaren Spyder, which I felt like I hadn't seen in forever.
It was a car I'd donated to Team 7, but there were no particular signs of use on it.
My driver's license was already set up to be valid in both the U.S. and Australia, so I got Da-yeon in and immediately started driving through the Australian streets.
After about two hours of flooring it, before I knew it we arrived at an enormous blueberry farm.
But at that farm, there was no Han Jong-su.
I spoke to the person in charge and learned he'd been fired...
Hadn't I expected this?
A bastard who was still memorizing his ABCs—forget a working holiday, I'd figured he'd last about a week before getting canned.
Honestly, I bet plenty of people besides me would've predicted it.
"... Where could he be?"
"At least he's alive."
I couldn't find Han Jong-su anywhere on this huge chunk of land, so I tried contacting him, but of course he didn't answer the phone.
"He's not actually dead, is he?"
"... No way..."
I drove around aimlessly...
Didn't even get a kilometer away from the blueberry farm.
On the sidewalk, a guy with a very familiar build was sitting on some spread-out newspaper.
With a fucking beard grown way out...
It was like running into some grimy Taoist sage from the East, right in Australia.
I stopped the car in front of this guy, and without even looking this way, he raised a cup.
"... What are you doing?"
"".....""
Han Jong-su, his face stiffening hard the instant he confirmed who Da-yeon and I were.
This bastard looked like he was stuck back in the Joseon era all by himself.
He must've been through hell, because the hardship was written all over his face.
"Did this fucker apply for a visa just to come beg in a foreign country? You dumb piece of shit. Is this even legal?"
"... Go on your way."
"Why was your phone off?"
"..... It's dead."
"Wow... Alright, live well. Looks like you're having a blast."
Just as we were about to leave, Han Jong-su desperately grabbed my ankle.
"... Please save me."
"".....""
"I'm so hungry I think I'm going to die. I... miss my mom."
I opened my mouth to speak through the rapidly mounting headache and rage.
"Even if you're begging, you gotta do it, for fuck's sake. Do it where there are people, you idiot. You're begging in a place without a single fucking ant?"
"The guys over there are scary..."
"".....""
"I already got beaten up four times."
At the mention of getting beaten, my expression hardened.
"Who did it...?"
"Forget it. Can't find 'em."
I called over the car that was following behind.
Han Jong-su looked puzzled by my actions, but I ignored him and switched cars.
"Wow... is that a bodyguard...?"
"Did you think we've ever moved without bodyguards? Ah, you shit-stinking bastard, the fucking smell, seriously."
"....."
Jong-su's smell was truly dire, so Da-yeon was apologetic but still plugged her nose.
We arrived in Koreatown and sent Han Jong-su to a sauna.
"Jong-su... looks like he went through absolute hell..."
"Looks that way."
Suddenly, someone from the bathhouse side asked what the hell this mute beggar bastard was doing here, and they tried to throw Han Jong-su out. I was about to argue but just shoved fifty times the entry fee into their hands.
After washing up, Han Jong-su had shed the Joseon-era look and advanced to... maybe the Korean Empire period.
The bastard must have cried a fucking river while he was washing, because his eyes were red around the rims.
"You wanna go back to Korea?"
"... No."
Even in a situation like this, he still said he wouldn't go back to Korea...
In a way, Han Jong-su really was one hell of a tenacious bastard.
"Lend me 400,000 won. So I can look into somewhere else."
"How's your English coming along?"
Han Jong-su, speaking in English... His conversational level was actually better than I expected.
The only problem was, he still couldn't read written English...
You could see how desperately this dumbass had been struggling to survive.
That cockroach-like bastard.
I tried to talk to the blueberry farm people to get him settled in, but Han Jong-su flatly refused.
"Don't help me. This was my choice."
"Then why are you borrowing 400,000 won?"
"..... I'll build success on the foundation of failure."
"So is this 'success' a part-time job?"
"... To me, it's a big deal."
Han Jong-su was the youngest son of the family behind one of the larger midsized companies.
I had to wonder whether the son of a company prominent enough to show its face at government-hosted chaebol parties should really look like this.
His older brothers and sisters were back in Korea comfortably driving supercars, so seeing him choose this kind of hardship made me think this bastard might actually accomplish something.
I briefly wondered why he was living like that, but I guess what's good is good...
"The interest on my money's a little steep, you know? Pay me back three times."
"Wow..."
"Honestly, if you're not prepared to pay back triple, don't borrow it."
Han Jong-su agonized over it seriously, then looked at Da-yeon.
"Just 400,000 won..."
He really was one unique bastard.
He said he'd drunk nothing but water for a week, so I took Han Jong-su to a Korean restaurant.
His hair was even longer than Da-yeon's; he was going around with this Jesus hair.
"So why did you get fired?"
"I couldn't open a bank account."
"That's it?"
"As it happened, I was the only Korean there, so no matter what anyone said to me, I couldn't understand."
"So, did you get the account opened now?"
Han Jong-su nodded while eating his food.
"A new friend I made helped me out."
"So, what's your plan now?"
Han Jong-su had his nose practically buried in his food, but at my question, he swallowed what was in his mouth and nodded.
"I thought about it while I was washing up... I'm going to a cheese factory."
"Wow, from a farm to a factory... The industrialization has begun, dumbass. What's next, gearing up for a Luddite movement?"
Da-yeon was struggling to hold back her laughter at my words.
"My English has to be good enough for me to work at a café or some place like that, and besides, I hear factories pay a lot more than those kinds of places."
"... You dumbass, just a single phone call to your older brother and a monthly allowance in the ten-million-won range would drop into your account..."
Ignoring my words, Han Jong-su said his piece.
"And that factory's near the beach, you know? On my days off, I'm planning to get a room and just enjoy some fishing."
"This bastard's thinking got even more free-spirited after living homeless. You're gonna just fish anywhere when you can't even read English and get hit with a fine and actually chased out of the country, you hear me? The law's strict here?"
"... Really?"
This guy is seriously hopeless...
I genuinely got curious about what thoughts and romantic dreams had brought him all the way here.
I had mentioned the working holiday thing, but the choice itself was his own.
Still, I guess you could say I felt a slight sense of responsibility...?
"First, eat. And then let's go buy you some clothes."
Still, Da-yeon seemed to think a guy like Jong-su was pretty incredible.
We bought Jong-su some clothes and were walking and talking when Jong-su spotted a group of three people and flinched.
"Is it them?"
"... What."
"The guys who beat you up."
"What are you going to do about it even if you know? Let's just go."
I started texting on my phone.
At that moment, the guys, having spotted Jong-su, approached us.
And with perfect timing, a black car with heavily tinted windows pulled up between us.
Jong-su was nervously keeping an eye on those guys, but they disappeared the instant the black car passed by.
"...? Where'd they go?"
"What."
"... You didn't...?"
"Didn't what?"
"... No way... to kill them...?"
"What crazy bullshit are you spouting? Why would I kill people? I'm just gonna give 'em a few good smacks and send them on their way."
""......""
I felt a refreshing sense of relief and booked Jong-su a room to rest in.
"I'll help you up to this point."
"300..."
"You keep trailing off. Hurry up and finish your sentence."
"I'll pay you back 3 million won."
"Meaning you're buying today's dinner, too, right?"
Seeing Han Jong-su nod, I snorted a laugh.
"If you're too busy to call, then at least get on social media or something and confirm you're alive."
"Got it."
"We're going. Don't live homeless like a fucking idiot. You do realize you would've croaked for real if you hadn't run into us?"
"... I was gonna try to hold out for two more days and then go to the police station."
"That's a thing to brag about, dumbass. Look at you, filming your own survival show: Alone in the City."
As I sent Jong-su off, I assigned people to investigate and help Jong-su for a week.
And for the remaining time, I enjoyed traveling with Da-yeon before returning to Korea.
Time passed, and Han Jong-su started being active on social media again.
He reported in that he was alive.
-Thank you... I'll never forget this.
For the first time in a while, I headed to Switzerland with my dad.
To travel around the world's art museums with Farzier, who had gotten extremely old.
I said extremely old, but Farzier was still going strong.
"Si-yoon! Come look at this! This is my masterpiece!"
The painting Farzier excitedly showed me was just a mess of paint splatters.
"What is this? You didn't really put paint in your mouth and spit it out, did you?"
"As expected! You recognized it at a single glance!"
"Are you insane!?"
The moment Dad and I heard Farzier, we dragged him and headed to the hospital.
Farzier struggling and kicking, saying he didn't want to go...
Many of the staff were already worried about Farzier's health.
I told him that if he refused to go to the hospital, we'd go home too, and that finally got Farzier admitted.
Countless artists had died of lead poisoning after putting paint in their mouths to test its consistency; it wasn't just one or two. If we'd been a little later, Farzier might have joined them.
I should've known when I saw the dark circles under his eyes over video call.
I briefly wondered why there were only crazy people around me, then nodded.
The problem was that I never made friends with normal people...
Still, fortunately, Farzier's symptoms weren't severe, so we took him and toured the surroundings again.
Farzier asked if I knew how to ride a horse.
Dad didn't know how, so he sat behind me and served as my backrest.
Feeling Switzerland's magnificent scenery while riding a horse was a new experience.
There was a reason folk songs in the form of yodeling were born in this Alpine region.
Dad got excited and started filming me, and Farzier, upon seeing me, seemed to get struck by inspiration and made a call somewhere.
Painting tools set up right before my eyes...
Watching him throw money around like that made it clear Farzier wasn't called a master for nothing.
In the end, he told me he wanted to paint my figure and said to just enjoy riding the horse for a while, so I took Dad, who had finished taking pictures, and rode around the area.
"Si-yoon, is it fun?"
"Dad."
"Yeah?"
"Hold on tight."
As if to demonstrate why a car's output is measured in horsepower, I started galloping on the horse.
Clip-clop, clip-clop.
This whole area was all Farzier's property, so we went up a hill that was visible in the distance and looked down at our surroundings.
Dad was holding my waist with one hand and shooting video with the other, but then, as if some inspiration had struck him, he put the camera down.
"Should we film the music video here?"
"Suddenly?"
"I should try mentioning it."
Dad suddenly asked me to stop the horse.
When I stopped, he got off the horse and started running down the hill.
"... Can't you just ride down?"
Dad, Farzier... It seemed like when they got hooked on something, they became dumber than anyone...
At dinner, I sat at the table with Farzier and Dad and enjoyed fondue.
It was a menu they said they'd prepared for me, but there's definitely something about enjoying local food right at the source.
The flavor was on a whole different level from what you eat in Korea.
As I was dipping broccoli into the cheese and eating, Farzier asked for my advice on the painting he had done that morning.
"Lately, you're trying to paint only with emotion, aren't you?"
"Hmm... I thought that might be the case."
"You don't have to use the brush so lightly to express joy, you know."
We talked over dinner.
In the evening, we changed clothes at Farzier's house and headed to the invited party room.
The place was full of people working in the arts, and here, at least, my popularity overwhelmed my dad's.
As I walked around in a dress, sipping non-alcoholic champagne and looking at the artwork, people approached from every direction wanting to talk to me.
We even enjoyed the concluding auction, and then headed home.