As soon as Cheongnyeo picked up the call, I went straight to the point.
“Can you talk right now?”
-Yes. Did something go wrong with the mission?
“…”
-It seemed like the only reason you’d contact me.
Calling him right after the encore concert might have been too obvious a timing.
With so many unexpected things blindsiding me lately, I hadn’t planned this out as thoroughly as I should have.
‘But I can’t let it seem like I’m begging for answers.’
I needed to set the tone right from the start. So I cracked my neck and spoke with confidence.
“There wasn’t an issue with the mission itself.”
-I see.
“But another mission has popped up. Turns out it wasn’t the last one after all. Did you lie to me on purpose?”
-No, I didn’t.
The reply on the other end of the line was calm and compliant, without even a hint of amusement.
I thought I heard a faint whining from a dog before the voice continued quietly.
-I think I can explain it… How about we meet in person when you have time? Someone could be listening to the call.
“I think it would be better if you explain over the phone.”
I wasn’t actually proposing a long phone chat. I meant that if someone were to overhear, it would be less of a headache than having my skull bashed in.
-If it makes you uncomfortable, we can meet at Testa’s dorm. I have no ulterior motives… After all, I know that wouldn’t work anyway.
Hmm, I was planning to record the conversation just in case he tried something funny, but it seems that won’t be necessary.
Still, I wasn’t about to fully trust him. I’ll prepare a safety net, just in case.
“Alright, here’s what we’ll do.”
After arranging a time and place, I stepped off the balcony.
Kim Raebin, who happened to be nearby, jumped in surprise.
“Hyung! You were gone for 35 minutes! I was worried you might have snuck off to drink, but you were on the balcony?”
“Yeah.”
He was a bit tipsy, too.
Before the others noticed and tried to strike up a conversation, I sat down next to him.
“Raebin.”
“Yes?”
“I need you to do me a favor.”
“I’m listening!”
He stiffened up, thinking I was about to point out something he’d done wrong.
‘It’s not that serious.’
I waved my hand, signaling him to relax, and explained my request.
“Here’s the thing…”
And, as expected, the situation unfolded just as planned.
* * *
A few days later.
“Looks good.”
I had arrived early at the outdoor café in a quiet corner of the city, which I had suggested, and Cheongnyeo had reserved entirely.
It wasn’t easy to observe from a distance, but if something went wrong and someone screamed, the people nearby would likely call the authorities. There were enough CCTV cameras as well.
“You came early.”
A few minutes later, Cheongnyeo appeared at the café entrance with… a dog panting beside him, its chest snugly strapped with a harness.
“Woof!”
“…”
I had considered the possibility, but I didn’t expect him to actually bring it.
“I figured bringing the dog would make things easier to explain. Is that okay?”
“…It doesn’t matter.”
“Haha, you can pet him. He’s very friendly.”
Cheongnyeo grinned and picked up the dog, who wagged its tail furiously as he moved toward me.
‘How nice.’
It looked well-fed and healthy.
“The café owner said we could order anything we want, so feel free to grab something.”
Like I could stomach anything in this situation.
I sat at the table, answering nonchalantly.
“I’ll pass for now. Let’s just get to the point.”
“Sure. So, it sounds like the mission hasn’t ended… Should we start there?”
“Before that, you need to answer something else first.”
“Hm?”
I asked the question that had been bugging me, the one I didn’t think he’d answer before.
“How were you so sure about the number of missions?”
“…”
From the start, he had spoken to me with certainty about the total number of status effects.
– According to my calculations… it seems you get one mission at the start, then an additional one for each year you’ve gone back. That’s it.
“I want to know where you came up with this formula of ‘one plus the number of years.’ It’s wrong.”
“Oh, that.”
Cheongnyeo nodded easily and patted his dog.
Then, he dropped a bombshell.
“I collected cases from people like us.”
“…!”
“But they’re not around anymore. They died.”
He said it without any particular emotion.
“Some kind of illness… Anyway.”
I clenched my hands. My mind went numb.
There were others?
“How did you meet them?”
“Oh, this is a bit embarrassing, but… Was it the fifth time? I started talking nonsense on broadcast, claiming I knew the future because I was desperate to debut as quickly as possible.”
Cheongnyeo smiled brightly as he continued.
“I went around telling everyone that I knew the future.”
“…!”
“But, either because I wasn’t in the right field or something else, my mission didn’t clear… So from then on, I played it straight. Thinking back, it’s kind of funny.”
His tone was changing.
I couldn’t let this lunatic get lost in his nostalgic ramblings. I cut him off before he could fully shift the mood.
“So, what happened next?”
“Next… an old man approached me, claiming that he also came from the future.”
Cheongnyeo stopped petting the dog.
“After some fact-checking… I realized something.”
“What?”
“That the end of his known future matched the point where I restarted my past.”
“…!”
“So… it seems that only one person at a time can exist who knows the future. He knew for a few years, and then I knew for a few years.”
“…”
“And now it’s your turn, Moondae.”
Finally, I understood what he meant when he said those words to me earlier.
– Now is a good time, isn’t it? You must feel like the protagonist of your own story.
It was because only one person could occupy the period of knowing the future.
‘…But what’s the criterion for that?’
What did I have in common with this guy? And was the old man who had died also in the entertainment industry?
All sorts of questions were buzzing in my head, but the situation didn’t seem right for a deep dive.
Cheongnyeo continued to mutter to himself like he was talking to no one.
“Come to think of it… I’ve never restarted while that person was still alive.”
“…”
“I wish I had checked to see if he would also return to the past if I restarted while he was still alive. It would’ve saved us a lot of trouble. Haha!”
“No.”
I deliberately interrupted his train of thought.
“No?”
“Yeah. It’s better to take a few hits than die trying to check that.”
“…Hmm. I suppose you’re right.”
The wind went out of his sails.
‘What a headache.’
While wiping the dog’s drool off my hands, I suddenly realized something else.
“…So you figured out I’d returned to the past right away?”
“That’s right. The timing lined up perfectly.”
Cheongnyeo smiled.
“I thought maybe someone else now knew the future, but then, a random rookie appeared on an audition show and won first place.”
“…!”
“On a program that everyone thought would fail, at a decisive moment, you revealed your family background and clinched first place.”
“…”
It was the result of coincidence and the status window’s help, but Cheongnyeo smiled as if he found it mildly amusing.
“How many times did you run it back? I thought it was obvious.”
“…Hm.”
I guess I did look like the perfect candidate for him to think that.
“But maybe the reason you got another mission is because of that.”
A hypothesis flashed through my mind.
“…Because I’m not actually ‘Park Moondae.'”
“Exactly.”
Since I entered someone else’s body, I got hit with extra penalties compared to those who had simply gone back in time.
‘This is insane, not something I ever wished for.’
I pressed my fingers to my temples.
If this theory holds, then the latest status effect specifically mentioning that ‘Park Moondae’ would die seems linked.
Maybe it’s a signal that if I can’t clear this status, I won’t be able to use Park Moondae’s body anymore.
‘Damn it.’
…Will it stop at just one?
I don’t know. There’s also the status window glitching and the mysterious ‘coin,’ which complicates things further.
‘The coin still hasn’t shown up.’
After the notification saying I received it, there’s been no word.
Out of desperation, I even shouted ‘inventory’ aloud, but there was no change.
All I got was Cha Yoojin asking me if there were leftover albums after he overheard me through his earphones.
‘Damn it.’
The memory made my face flush with embarrassment. I roughly petted the dog’s head to push it away from me.
‘Is there anyone else with a status window?’
For a moment, I wanted to tell the person sitting in front of me to shout ‘status window’ and see what happens.
But instead, I stood up.
‘Whether it works or not, it would cause more trouble either way.’
There was no need to stir things up any more. I’d achieved my goal for now, so I’ll dig deeper next time.
Suddenly, the dog whimpered.
“…Whine!”
Does it want me to stay?
“Kongi seems to want to play more.”
“…Kongi?”
“Yes.”
The name was unexpectedly local. It suited the dog, but it was a bit unsettling that *he* had named it.
At that moment, as if emphasizing something, Cheongnyeo added,
“That was his original name.”
“…”
I got the point.
“Alright.”
After giving the dog, who had apparently been named Kongi for a long time, a few more pats on the head, I finally stood up.
“Play some more.”
“No need.”
I felt drained. There was no reason to keep talking to him.
I headed toward the entrance of the café.
As I reached the gate, with the dog in his arms, he suddenly asked a question.
“By the way… You must have had an original name too, right?”
“…!”
“Unless you just happened to have the same name. Haha.”
I almost answered without thinking.
…It shouldn’t matter. My records had been erased anyway.
“Ryu Geon-woo.”
“Hm.”
He made an odd expression.
“That’s better than Park Moondae.”
“…You’re not wrong.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
Still, Park Moondae had grown on me over time… It didn’t seem like such a bad name after all.
‘Even the fans eventually started liking it for its uniqueness.’
In any case, I left the outdoor café and headed home.
“Woo-woo-wooo!”
The dog’s mournful howl echoed until I turned the corner.
I massaged the back of my neck.
‘At least I didn’t walk away empty-handed.’
I’d gotten a working theory about why another status effect had appeared.
I hate to admit it, but having another brain to work with makes it easier to come up with conclusions. At least he wasn’t bluffing this time.
But knowing that this bizarre phenomenon had affected other people too only made it more unsettling.
‘Why am I the only one with a status window?’
I really do feel like the protagonist of some web novel.
At that moment, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
‘Oh no.’
I immediately answered the call.
“Hyung! Are you okay??”
It was Kim Raebin.
“Sorry, I didn’t check earlier. I’m on my way back now.”
“You’re fast… It hasn’t even been an hour.”
Yeah, tell me about it.
I recalled my conversation with Kim Raebin yesterday.
– I’m stepping out during break time. Could you send me a message every 30 minutes? It won’t take long… Six messages at most.
– Of course! May I ask why?
– Remember that crazy guy I had a run-in with before? Just a precaution. If I don’t respond, call me, and if I don’t answer, alert the company.
– Got it! Smart thinking!
I had essentially hired him as my emergency alert bell.
Kim Raebin is reliable when given a task, and he rarely forgets to follow through, so I planned to use him for this more often.
‘Maybe I should get him a snack or something as thanks.’
It’s hard to make someone work for free, so I was considering how to reward him when suddenly, loud noises flooded through the phone.
– Ah, hey!
– Hyung!! Hurry up!
– Go away, Cha Yoojin!
– It’s important! Get away, Kim Raebin!
I get it. It’s Cha Yoojin.
“I’ll be back soon. See you in a bit.”
Just as I was about to hang up calmly, he shouted something unexpected.
“Hyung! We made it onto an American show!”
“…?”
“Our reality show!”
It was completely out of the blue.
And after checking the details later, it got even more bizarre.