Debut or Die-Chapter 252

※Warning※

This chapter deals with depression and death.

Actually, there’s still time before the “Truth Confirmation” deadline. The status-ailment countdown hasn’t ended yet.

However, the problem is that after the Chuseok holiday, there won’t be any time to unpack this issue at leisure.

“After preparing the new album, I’ll immediately start year-end preparations.”

To show that the group’s album-promotion capacity remains intact, we can’t waste this year-end. There’s no time to spend on side effects from the “Truth Confirmation.”

“I don’t know what will happen... but I can’t miss the right window.”

Assuming I can continue these activities, I made the most reasonable decision.

...If I return to my original body, I might regret not pushing on for a few more months, but for now... let’s not think about that.

We agreed to first consider a future in which I can keep doing this.

I exhaled.

“Let’s go.”

[Truth Confirmation] ← click!

I clicked the word on the popup.

Clack.

As expected, my vision vanished.

And my consciousness sank, as if sucked downward.

“Twenty years old.”

“...Yes, yes.”

I’m sitting in a familiar restaurant.

It’s the gukbap place I’ve frequented often since I started studying for the civil-service exam. It’s cost-effective and easy to eat alone.

But now I wasn’t alone.

Opposite me sat a kid with a pale face, spooning gukbap.

I’d found him collapsed, looking ready to die, without a coat in front of a motel nearby. I almost called the police before deciding to bring him food instead.

‘Unnecessary meddling.’

I thought it was absurd to do this when I should be busy with my own life, but what was done was done.

I sighed. The kid flinched, then in a timid voice said:

“I... I don’t have any money.”

“....”

Did he really expect me to buy him dinner after seeing him like that?

“I already bought it while I was eating, so finish it all.”

“...Thank you.”

He acted like a criminal for getting a meal worth less than ten dollars. Maybe I didn’t look like someone who’d pay for anyone.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror beside the register.

I was a civil-service applicant in a flannel shirt, cap, and glasses. At least I looked intact.

It meant I looked better off than the kid across from me.

‘Hmm.’

I watched him pick up some kkakdugi.

He’s twenty so not a runaway... just some guy similar to me who evidently couldn’t get into college.

“Do you have anywhere I can contact you?”

“....”

“How about a job?”

“...I got fired.”

I had a rough idea. I took a spoonful of gukbap and said:

“Go to the community center first.”

“Yes...?”

“I mean the administrative welfare center. Check if you qualify for basic living subsidy. If you do, you’ll get money every month. Even if not, there’ll be something to apply for, so ask persistently.”

I kept listing methods to him while eating. The kid looked bewildered but didn’t argue.

‘Must be uncomfortable.’

At that age it’s understandable. I quickly drained the remaining broth and stood.

“Well, I’m off. Keep eating.”

If he had the intent, he’d go.

“W-wait!”

But just as I was putting on my coat, I heard him call out, panicked.

And heartrending words:

“Um... thank you, I’m sorry.”

“....”

I paused, then blurted out:

“Have you ever worked at a barbecue restaurant?”

“Huh? I’ve, I’ve never...”

Right, a minor working in a barbecue place is tough. They usually don’t hire underage without family.

I scratched the top option off and picked the next one.

“I’ll recommend you a convenience-store job. Call there and say a former worker sent you. I’ll give you the number.”

Barbecue owners are the most gullible, but convenience-store managers at least keep business ethics.

But the kid looked even more flustered.

“I-I don’t have a phone...”

“....”

I suppressed a sigh, dug out my smartphone, and jotted my number and the store manager’s number on a scrap of paper.

“Get an advance and activate a free phone. You can’t work without one.”

“....”

“Take it.”

He took the paper blankly.

Without raising his head, he murmured:

“Thank you... really, thank you.”

“....”

He was probably crying.

I just turned away. Just as I was about to leave.

“Your name is...”

Right, after going this far, I should at least introduce myself.

“...Ryu Geonwoo.”

Yeah. Good job, Ryu Geonwoo.

Projecting your own situation onto a stranger you met for the first time—what a waste of time and thought.

“What’s your name?”

The kid opposite finally looked up and answered sturdily:

“I’m Park Mundae.”

An unusual name.

I nodded, then at last left the restaurant. To escape this bizarre scene.

After that, I kept in occasional contact with this “Park Mundae.”

[You might remember me—Park Mundae, the one you bought a meal for. Thank you for recommending the convenience-store job.] 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

He’d text that he’d gotten his first paycheck and offer to buy me a meal.

But we rarely met. No particular reason, and handling my own life was enough.

He insisted on repaying me, but I didn’t expect much. Besides the meal, I hadn’t done anything.

Just occasionally meeting for a meal was fine. Since I spent all my time alone reading books, my social skills were wrecked, so this was okay.

But separately, my grades weren’t good.

“Am I insane.”

I never thought I’d fail the interview. Objectively I thought I performed well.

‘Shut your blind mouth, fuckers.’

The only negative I could guess was my family background.

‘I packaged that well too.’

It even went well in my professor interviews.

Normally that would be a plus, but this year’s interviewers must have been unlucky.

“...sigh.”

I flopped onto the mattress. My brain felt broken.

‘Should I drink?’

There wasn’t anything special to do.

Three years as a civil-service student, failing that damn interview, drinking alone...

The next morning.

I gave up.

“Let’s call it quits, fuck.”

The reason was simple. My saved money was all gone.

From the start I only planned to try this far. Once in year two, once in year three.

Maybe I could make up by doing one more data gig... but given my age, getting a job was safer.

‘I prepared for job security, so the means shouldn’t override the purpose.’

I wanted a job that would pay me even if tragedy struck, so I wouldn’t starve.

“....”

I briefly considered lowering my standards, but that would cost more, so I put it off.

‘At twenty-nine I should catch the last train.’

That year, I got a job at a mid-size company.

I thought I adapted well... but who knows.

“It’s due tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

In my twenty-nine years, had I used up all my mental strength, or was I just socially maladapted?

I often thought on the bus after overtime:

“....”

I simply had no will to live.

No excitement.

Life was just tiring.

Nothing was particularly bad, but nothing was good.

Surviving at work was no problem, but office politics was boring. Promotion held no excitement.

‘This can’t be normal.’

What was this lethargy accumulated over my life?

I briefly thought of psychiatric counseling, but that was absurd. I’d risk being fired.

I considered changing jobs, but lacked motivation. The company didn’t give time for job searching.

“....”

No matter how much I pondered, no answers emerged.

Was there anything I’d find interesting besides the occasional drink?

A flicker came.

Photography?

‘Too extreme.’

Too expensive a hobby. No time or money.

Data gigs aren’t sustainable post-resignation. Many who invested more lost money.

“Hmm.”

In my studio apartment, I ordered rope and painkillers online. It felt unsettlingly interesting.

I thought for weeks. It’s not an easy decision.

Yet after that process, on the final weekend night, I was in a foul state.

Right after attempting, as I kicked the chair, a fleeting thought:

‘Was this depression?’

But it didn’t last long.

I couldn’t breathe...

“Gasp.”

I bolted upright in bed and touched my neck.

‘My breath...’

It was fine.

“Ha.”

I leaned over the headboard. My pajamas were soaked with sweat.

What I’d just experienced... was it even a memory?

Until now, I’d only been confirming others’ memories, but this was...

‘Was that me?’

It felt like I was recalling my own memories.

But the problem was I had no memory of doing this.

My last memory was failing the civil-service exam and drinking myself to sleep. I had no memory of getting the job or the suicide attempt.

Moreover, at least...

‘I’ve never met Park Mundae.’

This first scene is split.

If I’d foolishly done that, I’d remember.

But I saw Park Mundae for the first time when I entered his body.

And the timeline was off.

“Park Mundae didn’t die.”

In the first Truth Confirmation, Park Mundae had attempted an extreme overdose in front of that motel...

At that moment, a sudden realization flashed in my mind.

An attempt is just an attempt.

‘Could Park Mundae have survived?’

Thinking it through, I was certain. Searching on my smartphone, I saw that no matter how much one takes a non-prescription sleep aid, at worst they suffer side effects but won’t die.

Then, combining the season and date from this Truth Confirmation...

‘He must have met me right after his suicide attempt.’

The kid staggering in front of the motel.

It fit.

“....”

And if this guess is correct, I’ve entered the body of a Park Mundae who didn’t die.

“Then where did you go?”

But there was no answer. There never was one.

I summoned the status screen and asked:

‘Are you Park Mundae?’

The screen gave no reply. Instead an odd message appeared:

[-Calculating-]

I had no idea what bullshit that was, but it gave no hint of Park Mundae’s whereabouts.

And it wasn’t just Park Mundae’s location that mattered. The insane thing I’d just confirmed about myself...

Did I really do that?

‘I never thought I was that crazy.’

But assuming I did, why was that memory gone? Was twenty-nine some magical idol deadline?

“This is driving me nuts.”

I let out a hollow laugh.

At least if it were Park Mundae, there’d be something to investigate, but here the person “Ryu Geonwoo” simply never existed. No phone number, no social media, no university accounts...

‘...Wait.’

The data I recorded still existed.

I ran a hand through my hair.

Then... if I changed the premise to “Did Ryu Geonwoo ever exist here before?”

There might be a way to find traces.

Hey, Mundae. If you want, spend Chuseok at the members’ homes instead of the dorm. Oh, you can come to my house too.

Ryu Cheong-woo’s house.

Our family vacation photos or videos might hold traces of me and my parents.

“....”

Knock knock.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door.

“Park Mundae? Are you okay??”

It’s Bae Sejin. I must’ve been talking to myself.

“...Yes. I had a cramp, just a moment...”

“Want the massage device?”

“I’m fine. It’s gone. Just a sec.”

I got up to change clothes.

When I opened the door, Bae Sejin, who’d been sitting at the kitchen table, froze in surprise.

“Your clothes...”

“Yes.”

Wearing my street clothes, I nodded.

“I’ll be right back. I have to meet someone.”

I need to check.

The first day of the holiday was unusually peaceful.

“Ggami, come here.”

“Woof!”

Ryu Cheong-woo placed the black toy poodle that ran to him onto the sofa. The incense and the TV’s holiday specials set a cozy atmosphere.

But since it wasn’t my grandparents’ bustling house, it felt comparatively gentle.

“I’m heading out, oppa!”

“Alright, take care.”

“Geez, don’t be late!”

“Ha ha, I know.”

His sister grumbled at not getting a big meal from her elder brother who returned home, then left. Ryu Cheong-woo laughed and saw her off.

Even with just four dogs, the house didn’t feel empty. Warm words were exchanged.

“So, how are your siblings who stayed home?”

“They’re still good kids.”

Ryu Cheong-woo mistakenly included Bae Sejin as a sibling, then hurriedly corrected himself.

He remembered another member mature beyond his years.

“He’s a good kid, so I was going to invite Mundae here for Chuseok~”

“Ha ha ha.”

Coincidentally, his parents brought up the suggestion.

Inviting Park Mundae, a close junior, to their holiday dinner.

Naturally, they agreed but weren’t overly enthusiastic.

Even a close junior can feel like a stranger at a family gathering.

‘Maybe it would’ve been better if Sejin went home instead.’

Park Mundae is perceptive, so it might’ve been uncomfortable, Ryu Cheong-woo reflected.

‘I hope he’s doing well.’

Ryu Cheong-woo posted a dog photo in TeSTAR’s group chat and watched the flood of holiday food pics in response.

“Everyone’s doing well.”

It seemed a peaceful day.

But that evening, just before night fully fell.

Ding dong—

Someone rang the doorbell. It wasn’t a delivery; the figure lingered outside.

“I’ll get it.”

“I’m counting on you, son~”

Ryu Cheong-woo rose from the sofa.

‘A stalker?’

He had negative premonitions and checked who was at the door.

“...!”

It was someone unexpected at the intercom.

Ryu Cheong-woo opened the door immediately.

“...Mundae?”

“Yes, hyung.”

There he was, Park Mundae at the front gate.

Without any prior notice. But his calm eyes were now fierce.

“As you said, I came ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) to visit. May I come in?”

Ryu Cheong-woo felt a chill.