CTLI — Chapter 26

“I’m fine.”

“Want a beer?”

“That’s fine too.”

I didn’t know when I might be sent out on an emergency mission, so it was better to stay clearheaded.

Yoon Seohwa seemed disappointed at my firm refusal but didn’t ask again. They brought the chicken and beer over from the table, sat on either side of me, and chatted away cheerfully. The topic was:

“What’s the first thing you want to do once this whole disaster is over?”

Yoon Seohwa said she wanted to travel. Choi Dohyun agreed and suggested going to the beach. Despite the grim uncertainty of when this situation might end, their voices were so bright it felt like they could take off tomorrow.

“Wow! You have a villa?”

“Yes, it’s on a remote island. My grandfather likes quiet places.”

With a cola in hand that she’d given me, I quietly listened to their conversation. Yoon Seohwa was very hopeful and seemed to adapt quickly to new situations. I was honestly surprised when she said she wanted to work as a rescue worker if possible until things were officially declared over.

Despite going through months of isolation that would leave anyone traumatized, she wanted to return to the front lines. That alone took courage.

Choi Dohyun just smiled without saying much. He nodded along to her words with admiration, but never once mentioned what he wanted to do, what kind of work he planned on, or how he intended to live.

Of course he didn’t. To him, this world was fake—just a temporary diversion, nothing more or less.

Eventually, as Yoon Seohwa seemed to relax, she started nodding off, and soon she was snoring softly with her head resting on the sofa. She’s got nerves of steel. I got up, moved her into the bed, and then finally turned my attention to Choi Dohyun.

He tossed his empty beer can into the trash, then, with a clear and sober expression, gestured to me with a smile.

“Let’s talk too. You haven’t said a single word, hyung.”

“I have something to ask.”

“What is it?”

He showed no sign of fear. Well, there was no reason for him to fear anything. At this point, I didn’t even need to wonder how he viewed me. Just thinking back to the man I’d met in the underground room made it obvious. To him, I was probably a tool—something essential to his goal.

That alone explained why Choi Dohyun treated me well. Why he kept trying to protect me. It all made sense.

I pulled up the blanket and gently laid it over Yoon Seohwa, brushing aside her disheveled hair. Looking at her made me think of my younger sister—the one who had died, and perhaps a sister I had forgotten about. The ache in my chest grew heavier. Maybe I was seeing them both in her.

I stared blankly at her for a while, only turning to Choi Dohyun when I heard him tap the floor a few times.

“So, what do you want to ask?”

“Do you know these people?”

Sitting across from him, I pulled two photos from my inner pocket. One was of the man from the underground room whose data had seemingly been deleted. The other was the photo of Heo Yaeun—the woman who had supposedly approached the minister.

“Hm…”

I hadn’t had any particular expectations. The man had recognized the woman right away, and since both were suspected to be players, I thought perhaps Choi Dohyun might know them too.

But instead of answering immediately, he picked up the photos, studied them closely, and then glanced sideways at me before speaking.

“Why?”

“I’m asking because they seem to be the same kind of people as you.”

At those words, the small countdown that always appeared on warning flashes flickered slightly—but that was all. The error rate didn’t rise, and no alerts sounded. Even the constant dull ache in my head was gone.

“Yes.”

“They’re people I know, but they’re not players.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Even with my doubtful expression, Choi Dohyun didn’t take it too seriously. He just dragged out his answer playfully. Annoyed by his lack of attention, I twitched my lips and called his name.

“Choi Dohyun.”

At my firm tone, Choi Dohyun straightened his back and crossed his arms. Then, studying the photos again, he spoke.

“By the way, these still exist? That’s odd… they shouldn’t.”

“I’m not sure about the woman—she’s missing. But I did meet the man. He said this world is fake and that he knows the future. And he also…”

The more I spoke, the more Choi Dohyun’s expression twisted in a strange way. He shook his head in disbelief, as if I’d just told him dogs could fly.

“There’s no way.”

“He also said he reached the ending but couldn’t return.”

My vision briefly shimmered with static, then returned to normal. Time was still flowing steadily, and the error level hadn’t risen.

I quietly breathed a sigh of relief and moistened my dry lips, watching Choi Dohyun’s reaction. His usual composure seemed slightly off. He frowned, staring into the air as if trying to confirm something.

“That shouldn’t be possible.”

He denied it again and pressed his fingers hard against his brow, then turned his gaze back to me. His face, usually full of laughter, had gone rigid. His eyes swept over me coolly, carefully. Was he wondering if something was wrong with me?

“I’m the only player.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well…”

Choi Dohyun, unlike his usual self, responded slowly, his eyelids trembling. He was shaken. His eyes blinked rapidly in confusion, and he bit his lower lip slightly. No—he looked… anxious. I narrowed my eyes and continued observing him.

For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, staring blankly. Then he shook his head and forced a smile.

It felt unnatural.

“I’m doing this with help from those two.”

“…”

“There’s no way. This is something I do alone…”

His murmuring trailed off.

Instead of pressing him, I picked up the photos again and studied their faces carefully. Could they be the “arks” the zombies spoke of? I stared for a long while, committing their features to memory before setting the photos down again.

No—they must be the ones who turn back time. That meant it would be faster and more accurate to ask the zombies again. The mutants who might offer me more information. I needed to find them.

“Where are you going, hyung?”

As I rose and headed to the door, Choi Dohyun quickly followed and asked.

I looked at him with a blank expression. The unease in his demeanor wasn’t unpleasant. Had I disliked him before? My unconscious mind answered no—but that didn’t mean I cherished him either. Of course, I didn’t wish for him to fall into despair.

“I think I need to find a mutant.”

“Why?”

His question came a little too quickly. I turned my head slightly and looked out through a small window, where the city’s lights glimmered faintly. The dim glow gave just enough light to see, but beyond a certain point, it was pitch black—like everything had simply cut off.

“Hyung.”

“It’s a personal reason.”

“You’re going to look for a zombie—for a mutant whose location you don’t even know—just for personal reasons?”

“Mr. Choi Dohyun, I think you should rest now.”

“Hyung.”

He grabbed my wrist tightly. I winced at the pressure, and he hesitated briefly before loosening his grip and suddenly leaning in close.

“Don’t go.”

His face was so close that I instinctively turned my head in surprise, but he didn’t back away and kept his eyes locked on mine. It was the first time I’d seen his face this close. I sighed, my face stiffening even more.

His face was still immaculate. There were no dark circles under his eyes, no roughness to his lips or skin. With those long lashes, sharp eyes, and sculpted nose—anyone would call him handsome without hesitation. But to me, it didn’t stir anything.

If anything, it was slightly unsettling.

“Let go.”

I pried his hand off my wrist and firmly pushed his shoulder. He stumbled back, breathing slightly heavier, and then spoke.

“Why aren’t you asking anything?”

“I already asked a lot.”

“You didn’t ask how I know them. Why I started this game. What I used to do. How it ends. What I’m capable of…”

“…”

“Why don’t you ask anything, hyung?”

The more Choi Dohyun spoke, the more pained and distressed his expression became. I gave a short laugh inwardly. Was there really any reason for him to be in pain? Or perhaps he was starting to feel anxious at the thought that he might not be able to escape this place. That, I could understand.

“Is it important?”

“…What?”

He looked startled by my blunt response, his mouth falling open and his eyelids trembling slightly. As if the thought had never crossed his mind. I sat him back down in the chair and spoke firmly.

“I’m not interested in your circumstances.”

“…”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t help you.”

“…”

“Even if I die, we can turn back time. Isn’t that right?”

Choi Dohyun didn’t say a word. I gave a dry chuckle as if I’d expected that, then turned and began putting on my shoes.

Whatever he did, I was fated to help him. It was an instinctive pull. Something that hadn’t come from my own will, but had been forced upon me—like it had been implanted into me that this was simply how it had to be. It was more than enough to make me feel uncomfortable and uneasy. That was precisely why I didn’t want to know more about Choi Dohyun.

As I grabbed the doorknob, a loud sound rang out behind me. I turned in surprise to see Choi Dohyun standing up from his seat, the chair he’d been sitting in now lying toppled on the floor.

“If you’re thinking of going outside right now, you shouldn’t.”

“I won’t have time tomorrow.”