CTLI — Chapter 21
by Brie“Of course not. The date the minister mentioned was September 20th at 11 a.m. If he had been attacked then, maybe it wouldn’t be so damn frustrating.”
“So the attack happened on the 30th.”
A full ten days later. I mentally sorted the dates.
Today was October 6th. The minister was attacked a week ago, on September 30th. The date he predicted his death was September 20th, seventeen days ago. And he first started talking about the possibility of dying on September 12th, twenty-five days ago.
“So that’s the day he shut himself in.”
“Yeah. Even after the 20th passed and nothing happened, he stayed locked up for another five days. Once he realized nothing would happen, he shamelessly walked out like nothing had happened.”
“…”
“Anyway, the reason I called you here isn’t just to vent.”
“…”
“I had a bad feeling, so I put someone on him—and it turns out someone had been whispering strange things to the minister.”
Strange things? I frowned, a creeping unease settling in, but Jin Sungwook looked more embarrassed than disturbed. He opened and closed his mouth several times like he didn’t even want to say it. Finally, after a long pause, he muttered a sharp curse and spoke.
“She told him she knew the future. That he was going to die.”
“…”
“Damn, don’t look at me like that. It’s humiliating. I don’t even know why he believed her. But apparently she stuck close to him for a while and said she’d tell him how to survive if he helped her with something.”
“What did she ask for?”
“That’s what you need to find out.”
Is this a joke? I opened my mouth in disbelief and stared at Jin Sungwook. He outranked me, so I couldn’t exactly ignore him.
“Then where is she now?”
“You need to figure that out, too. She vanished without a trace after the minister was attacked.”
“What? Then the others who went into hiding—was it because of her?”
“Ah, those bastards? Don’t give them too much credit. They’re just scared shitless after what happened to the minister.”
“Right…”
Is it really okay for the country to be running this loosely?
Jin Sungwook shoved the rest of the documents at me. Among them were detailed records, including a photo and personal information of the woman in question—her appearance was ordinary, unremarkable.
She said she knew the future. That alone sounded suspicious, but I couldn’t bring myself to say she was just some lunatic. The discomfort and dread piled up like dust settling quietly on an unreachable surface.
“Ah, I said I wouldn’t keep you long. Go on and get some rest.”
His exhausted voice made it clear I was being dismissed. He looked as if he could barely keep his upper body upright, swaying like a drunk man—he was clearly worn to the bone.
Feeling a little sorry for him, I gathered the documents and the apple, bowed deeply, and left. Better to leave him in peace than offer some half-baked words of sympathy.
Clunk.
As I stepped outside, not far away, I spotted Park Moonkyu sipping coffee while scrolling through his phone. I tucked the files into my coat and casually rolled the apple in my hand as I walked up and tapped him on the shoulder. Sensing me, he looked up with a shrug.
“Finished?”
“Yeah.”
“Then go and get some rest. Your room’s probably dusty, so I sent someone to clean it. Till then, use mine.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Alright, you going now? I need to lie down too.”
Park Moonkyu downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp and got up from his seat. As he crumpled the paper cup and tossed it into a trash bin, I grabbed his arm and shook my head.
I wanted to rest more than anything, but there were too many things still bothering me.
“Let’s go somewhere first.”
“Somewhere? Where?”
He blinked at me, confused, then made a face like I was out of my mind.
“You’re seriously going? What do you expect to get from meeting that lunatic?”
“Even a lunatic said he was looking for me.”
“Just ignore him.”
“If you wanted me to ignore it, you shouldn’t have told me in the first place.”
My voice came out flat. He hesitated, clearly reluctant, but after seeing the firmness in my expression, he slumped his shoulders and started walking reluctantly toward where the man was being held.
I followed, raising a hand to smack my friend’s hunched back and told him to straighten up already.
Hoping—just hoping—that there would be something worth salvaging.
The man was being held in a temporary lodging facility underground. Though it was called a lodging space, in truth, it was little more than a holding cell for suspicious individuals—no different from a prison. The only reason he hadn’t been formally detained was that he hadn’t committed any major crimes and was only spouting nonsense. Technically, he could leave whenever he wanted.
I silently observed the man trembling in anxiety as he sat in a chair. Before entering, I’d wanted to take a closer look at him through the glass, but once again, I was certain—he was not someone who existed in my memory.
He anxiously checked the time over and over, shifting his feet nervously. Cold sweat was pouring down his face like someone being chased.
“You’re really going in there?”
“Stop asking me twice, three times.”
“I know, I know, but…”
Groaning, Park Moonkyu lowered his head and rubbed at his neck before clicking his tongue. He seemed to realize there was no changing my mind. I gave him a small, grateful smile and stepped into the room.
At the sound of the door opening, the man flinched and instinctively looked up. When he saw my face, he lit up and sprang to his feet.
“Ma Kanghyuk!”
With an extremely bright expression, he rushed over and grabbed my hand. I scowled, but raised my brow and forcefully pulled my hand away. He looked shocked by my reaction, his mouth hanging open for a second before he shook his head quickly, regaining his composure.
“It’s been… it’s been a long time.”
The way he acted like he knew me well made me respond curtly. My voice was low and laced with sharp caution, without needing any conscious thought. The man stammered and fumbled before his shoulders slumped weakly.
“Ah… right, of course… you don’t remember me…”
You don’t remember me.
My jaw tensed naturally. I drew in a deep breath, pulling my chin down and puffing up my chest, then let it out sharply and dropped into the chair opposite him. The man glanced at me briefly, gave a feeble smile, and returned to his seat.
Why did he say I wouldn’t remember him? If we had truly known each other, he should’ve talked about the context of our meeting or the situation at the time to jog my memory. But instead, he gave up right away. As if my not remembering him was expected.
My thoughts naturally drifted to Choi Dohyun and the things I had forgotten—what happened in the underground sewers.
“I heard you were asking for me.”
“That’s right. What I’m about to say is important. I’m not crazy, so please take it seriously.”
“Yes, go ahead.”
“…This world—this entire world—is fake.”
He said the same thing he had in the video, then studied my face. I silently nodded and listened.
Before deciding whether he was crazy or not, I had to figure out what exactly he was trying to claim, what evidence he had, and what he wanted from me.
When I didn’t interrupt and simply listened, he visibly relaxed and continued.
“There’s a limit to what I can tell you. But one thing’s certain: if you’re not here, I’ll disappear. This place you live in, you too—you’ll keep repeating the same time over and over.”
“…”
“That’s why I know the future. If you just listen to me, you can live a peaceful life.”
He knows the future. The story I’d heard from the young director came rushing back. Then the woman who had influenced the Defense Minister—was she someone like this man?
I couldn’t hold back the sigh that came, heavy and deep. Just one breath, but it felt like the ground might cave in beneath me.
“Did you understand what I said? Was my voice unclear, or did you feel dazed for a moment… anything like that?”
That was when I became certain of what he was. The phenomenon he described—I’d been experiencing it for days now. And now, I could guess why.
Feeling stifled, I unbuttoned the top of my shirt and rubbed my neck.
When I nodded, the man let out a relieved breath, though he also bit his lip nervously, as if trying to think how to explain more clearly.
“I’m glad… looks like you’re handling it okay. So, what I want to say is—”
“Are you a player, too?”
I cut him off.
And as I spoke, my vision shook violently. Though I hadn’t moved, it felt like the whole world tilted and fell apart in pieces, only to reassemble itself again.
The dizziness was overwhelming. I pressed my palm to my forehead. Thud. Thud. Thud. Letters flickered in front of my eyes.
Warning! Be careful not to exceed critical levels!
Error Progress: 60%
Execution of deletion begins at 99%
Temporary program initializing…
[ Time until program begins execution ]
<< 39:58:44 >>
My blurry vision cleared almost instantly. The countdown shimmered faintly with a soft glow.
Before I could even process the throbbing pain building behind my eyes, the man grabbed my hand tightly, jolting me to look up with just my eyes.
He stood up in shock, gripping my hand tightly.
“H-how, how did you…?”
“I’ll ask the questions this time.”
“W-what? Wait, how… how do you know about that…?”
“What’s your goal?”
His mouth hung open as he stared at me, stunned. My words seemed to hit him hard, but he wasn’t afraid. If anything, he looked elated—like a man drowning at sea who had finally grabbed a lifeline.