Chapter 2: A Stab in the Records of Fate
Rian entered the dark alley leading to his humble lodging. The air here was stagnant, and the smell of dampness wafted from the cracked walls. He parked his scooter and pulled a trash bag from the delivery bin. Fumbling for the phone in his pocket, he checked his bank balance; a few thousand more won, and the dream of a "home" would finally become a reality.
Suddenly, the silence of the night was shattered by the sound of rapid, heavy, and irregular footsteps. Before he could turn around, he felt a sharp coldness pierce the side of his neck. There was no pain at first—only a chilling sensation, followed by a strange heat that began to soak through his clothes.
"Found you! Did you think you could run away from me?" a gruff voice roared from behind him.
Rian fell to his knees. The trash bag tore beside him, scattering the remains of his meager meal across the cold ground. He tried to breathe, but his mouth filled with a metallic taste. He looked up at the killer standing before him—a man with criminal features, holding a dagger dripping with blood.
"Huh? You idiot! It's not him!" another person shouted, emerging from the darkness. "You killed the wrong person!"
The killer looked coldly at Rian's pale face. "Ah, looks like I made a mistake. Fine, let's go after the other one before he gets too far." With utter cruelty, the killer placed his foot on Rian's limp leg and indifferently pushed him aside to clear the path, dragging the dagger out of his neck.
Rian lay there, drenched in his own blood. The sky above him seemed impossibly far away.
'Why?' he screamed inside. 'Why was nothing ever the way I wanted? Was I destined to die in such a gruesome way? I thought I would finally rest a little after buying the house... even my dream of becoming an idol never came true... What was the point of my life?'
The sounds faded, and the world went pitch black.