Chapter 13

Chapter 13.

CLICK.

I unlocked the door.

The instant it opened, a hulking man barged inside.

"Jeong-seok!"

He threw his arms around me.

The reek of sweat and cheap aftershave hit me like a wall.

He pounded my back while wailing.

"Oh, Jeong-seok! You're safe! You weren't answering your phone — do you know how worried I was?!"

Exaggerated gestures.

I could hear the theatrical sobbing over his shoulder, but his shirt was bone dry.

An act.

I stood there expressionless.

I didn't push him away, nor did I hug back.

When there was no reaction, Park Gwangcheol awkwardly peeled himself off.

He swept his bloodshot eyes over me.

"You hurt anywhere? You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Thank god. Your mom and dad must be watching over you from heaven."

He clicked his tongue and scanned the cramped studio.

Mold-spotted wallpaper.

A floor mat damp with humidity.

A space barely big enough for one person to lie down.

Park Gwangcheol's brow furrowed.

"Why in the world are you living like this? With all that money sitting there, what is this squalor? Don't tell me you spent it all?"

Money.

That damned money was always the issue.

In my previous life, I'd never touched the inheritance my parents left.

No — I couldn't touch it.

'It was their wedding anniversary.'

My parents had gone on their first overseas trip in a long time.

I could still picture how happy they looked.

The plane was crossing the Pacific.

Sudden, unforecast turbulence out of nowhere.

And then a massive typhoon.

The airliner broke apart in midair and crashed.

Every passenger killed except one.

At the funeral, there was only an empty casket — no body.

A massive death insurance payout and inheritance landed in my name.

Enough to live on for the rest of my life without working.

But the young me couldn't bring myself to touch that money.

Every time I spent it, it felt like I was feeding off the price of my parents' lives.

Guilt. Longing.

Those emotions had imprisoned me in this cramped semi-basement room.

'I was a fool.'

Now I regretted it.

If I didn't use it, someone else would line their pockets with it anyway.

Just like the man standing right in front of me.

Park Gwangcheol had exploited my guilt.

While I turned away from the money, he bided his time.

And when the world turned upside down, he finally took everything from me.

"I haven't spent a single won. It didn't feel like my money."

A flash.

Park Gwangcheol's eyes glinted.

Greed. A very familiar look.

I stared at him.

"What brings you here, anyway?"

"What do you mean, what brings me?!"

Park Gwangcheol practically leaped.

"My only nephew, and you think I wouldn't worry?! Did you see the news? The world's gone crazy!"

He sprayed spit as he launched into a tirade.

"Monsters everywhere, the ground's caving in, people are dying left and right. How are you going to survive alone in all this?"

He grabbed both my hands.

Clammy, sticky palms.

"Your uncle will protect you. Don't stay here — come to our place. Hm?"

Protect me.

Sounds nice.

But I knew.

What he really wanted wasn't my safety.

It was the personal seal, the bankbook, and the property deed buried somewhere in this room.

A scheme to pose as my legal guardian amid the chaos.

The exact same playbook as my past life.

"Come on, let's go."

Park Gwangcheol pressed.

"I'll keep you safe. Family's got to stick together, right?"

I smirked.

Protection.

I did need protection — true enough.

Of course, the one who needed protecting wasn't me. It was him.

"No thanks."

The curt reply cleaved the cramped room.

Park Gwangcheol's expression hardened.

The forced smile calcified into a plaster mask.

"......What?"

"I said no."

"You — you just said......"

Park Gwangcheol's brow twitched.

Bewilderment, then displeasure.

How dare a nephew refuse an elder's offer?

The entitled mindset was written all over his face.

But my heart was cooling by the second.

When you got down to it.

Uncle by marriage.

A nice title, but he didn't share a single drop of blood with me.

And someone like that was invoking family?

It was revolting.

I tilted my head at an angle.

"And another thing."

"......"

"Let's cut the act. You didn't come because you were worried — you came because you smelled money."

"Wh-what are you talking about?! Your uncle cares about you so much!"

"How did you even find my address?"

I cut him off.

"I changed my phone number. Did you hire a private investigator?"

Park Gwangcheol's pupils quaked.

Bull's-eye.

He'd spent money digging up my information.

That's how badly he wanted my inheritance.

"I've got no money for you, so leave."

I waved him off.

"And have some shame. A grown man coming to steal pocket change from his nephew — isn't that embarrassing?"

"......You little shit?"

Park Gwangcheol's face flushed crimson.

The mask came off.

The thug underneath showed his true colors.

"I've been going easy on you, and now you've got no respect! Is that how you talk to your elders?!"

Elders.

Laughable.

I'd lived more years than he had.

And he thought a few extra birthdays gave him the right to lecture me?

"Kim Jeong-seok. Apologize. Now."

Park Gwangcheol seethed.

I smirked.

"Me? You're the one who should be apologizing."

"You — you disrespectful little——!"

Park Gwangcheol finally snapped.

He raised his fist high.

"You need a good beating to come to your senses!"

WHOOSH.

The clumsy fist sailed toward my face.

Slow.

Yawn-inducingly slow.

I didn't dodge.

I simply extended my hand.

TAP.

"......Huh?"

Park Gwangcheol's eyes widened.

My palm had caught his fist whole.

Not a single tremor.

"Let go! Let go of me!"

Park Gwangcheol struggled to yank his arm free.

But the trapped fist didn't budge, as if wedged in a crack between boulders.

I stared at him and steadily tightened my grip.

Little by little.

"Nngghh......"

Park Gwangcheol's face began to contort.

"Ow, ow! Let go!"

"You said you'd protect me."

I smiled thinly.

"With this much strength, who exactly are you going to protect?"

CREAK.

The sound of bone twisting.

Even at only 20%, I was an awakened.

My grip strength was already beyond human limits.

An ordinary person's bones were no different from cracker crumbs.

"Ahh! AAAARGH!"

Park Gwangcheol screamed.

His knees buckled.

Unable to bear the pain, he collapsed in front of me.

"P-please! My hand's going to break! AAAARGH!"

Agonized screams filled the room.

I bent my knees to meet his eyes.

Park Gwangcheol's pupils shook violently.

Fear.

A primal terror unmistakably etched in those eyes.

The greed that had been so bold moments ago was nowhere to be found.

'Should I kill him?'

The thought flickered briefly.

This was the man who'd stabbed me in the back and sucked me dry.

Guilt? Not a chance.

If anything, he deserved to die.

'If it weren't for this bastard.'

Memories of my past life flashed through my mind.

The man who'd stolen my parents' inheritance and thrown me onto the streets.

Because of him, I'd been homeless despite being an awakened.

I'd had to worry about my next meal, digging through trash cans. I'd had to wander from subway station to subway station to escape the cold.

That had stunted my growth.

While everyone else was killing monsters and leveling up, I'd been fighting just to survive.

'Six months.'

A full six months.

The first six months were golden time that couldn't be traded for anything.

This man had thrown that precious opportunity into the gutter.

My grip tightened involuntarily.

CREAK.

"Ggghk......!"

Park Gwangcheol groaned, foaming at the mouth.

I wanted to snap his neck right then and there.

But.

I slowly released my grip.

Killing him now would be too merciful.

Above all, I knew this bastard's 'real ending.'

'Zombie food.'

Not long after the Great Cataclysm, he'd meet a gruesome fate.

Eaten alive.

His innards ripped out, his limbs torn off — writhing in agony as he turned into a zombie.

Then he'd roam the streets as a soulless monster.

'Killing him myself would be far too kind.'

A life of suffering in this godforsaken world, ending as zombie feed.

I had no desire to change that ending for him.

Right now, he was garbage not even worth dirtying my hands over.

I released his fist, practically tossing it aside.

"I'll let you live."

Park Gwangcheol trembled as his gaze bounced between my hand and my face.

An expression of pure disbelief.

I added in a voice that had gone ice-cold.

"But."

I raised my index finger and pointed between his eyebrows.

"If you show up in front of me again, a wrist won't be all that breaks."

"......"

"You know what happens, right?"

Park Gwangcheol swallowed dryly.

The mere thought must have been horrifying — his face went sheet-white.

"Staying out of my sight is the best way to keep yourself alive for as long as possible."

A final warning.

Park Gwangcheol nodded frantically.

"O-okay! I'll go! I, I was wrong!"

He didn't look back, crawling across the floor and out the front door.

He didn't even think to put on his shoes, scrambling away in a pathetic display.

SLAM.

The front door shut.

Silence returned to the room.

I stared at the door he'd vanished through for a moment, then turned away, unbothered.

The rat had been chased off.

Now for what remained.

'Time to spend that money.'

Rotting slips of paper.

The inheritance I couldn't bring myself to touch, convinced it was the price of my parents' lives.

But now I understood.

Holding onto this money served no purpose.

I needed to spend it before it was too late.

In the most valuable place possible.

I picked up my smartphone.

Opened the search bar.

'Hope Welfare Foundation.'

Without hesitation, I dialed.

— Hello, this is the Hope Welfare Foundation. How can I help you?

A friendly female voice.

I got straight to the point.

"I'd like to make a donation."

— Oh, yes! A sponsorship inquiry. Would this be a recurring or one-time donation?

"One-time. About one billion won."

— I'm sorry? One billion — what do you...

Silence on the other end.

She was clearly flustered.

She probably thought it was a prank call.

"Give me the account number. I'll wire it right now."

— Oh, one moment! Sir, may I ask your name?

"Kim Jeong-seok."

I continued.

"I'd like to make a designated donation."

— A designated donation? Do you have a specific recipient in mind?

"Yes."

I took a short breath.

A single face surfaced in my mind.

My comrade from before the regression — the one who'd stayed by my side until the very end.

Spirit Monarch Park Hayan.

She was in a hospital right now.

A cold hospital room, tucked in the corner of a six-bed ward.

It had been a plane crash.

The accident had shattered her spine and paralyzed her from the waist down.

Surgery could have given her a chance to walk, but she had no money.

Poverty was the crime.

She'd eventually contract with a spirit and use its power to float through the air.

But that was years from now, after she'd awakened through tears of blood.

Above all.

'......The sole survivor.'

She was the only person who'd survived the very flight my parents had been on.

Verification was still needed, but in my assessment, Park Hayan was not a god's avatar.

Her history was too well-documented.

If a god's avatar was created from scratch, Park Hayan couldn't be one.

Of course, 'possession' had to be considered too.

But.

'If a god had possessed Park Hayan, there's no way they'd have left her legs as they were.'

They would have fixed the disability first.

The gods' game.

Beings who'd come to play would never tolerate such inconvenience.

I gathered my thoughts and spoke.

"Park Hayan, currently admitted to the orthopedics ward at Hankuk University Hospital."

— Ah, one moment. Let me check.

The sound of typing came through the receiver.

— Yes, confirmed. May I ask your relationship to the patient?

"No particular relationship. I just want her to live."

I exhaled once.

"Surgery costs, hospital fees, and rehabilitation — all of it."

I spoke evenly.

"Please provide enough support so she can walk for the rest of her life without issue."

***

Hankuk University Hospital, Room 602.

A curtained-off corner bed.

Park Hayan stared blankly out the window.

Unfocused eyes.

Dead eyes, devoid of any spark of life.

The outside world had supposedly gone mad.

Monsters had appeared and the ground had split, they said.

But to her, it was somebody else's problem.

Her world had already collapsed.

She looked down beneath the blanket.

She couldn't feel anything.

Below the waist, sensation didn't exist.

It was like having a rotting log strapped to her.

The doctor had said.

Surgery could let her walk.

But it was false hope.

Money.

That damned money — she didn't have it.

For an orphan like her, tens of millions of won in surgery costs were as unreachable as the stars.

'Maybe I should just die.'

If only she'd died when the plane crashed.

Surviving alone felt like a curse.

SWOOSH.

The curtain was yanked back.

A nurse and an administrative staffer rushed in.

Not their usual dry expressions.

Flushed faces.

Panting, they cried out.

"Ma'am! Congratulations!"

Park Hayan didn't react.

Congratulations?

Who says that to a paraplegic?

But the staffer's next words made her doubt her own ears.

"You're going into surgery right away. The professor has cleared his schedule."

"......What?"

Park Hayan's lips trembled.

"What...... do you mean? I don't have any money."

"It's been taken care of."

The staffer waved a bundle of papers.

"A sponsor just appeared. Surgery costs, hospital fees, rehabilitation — everything. The full amount has been deposited."

"......"

"One billion won! Enough for a lifetime of treatment and then some!"

Her mind went white.

She couldn't comprehend it.

Someone with no family — who in the world?

"Wh-who? Why......?"