It’s the second night

Episode 3

“No… That can’t be true.”

She shook her head and took a step back. Then, she tripped over the wheel of the IV stand and fell.

Crash! The IV stand toppled over, shattering the bottle of nutrients attached to it.

Was it because her body hadn’t fully recovered? Even her mind felt hazy.

“No… This isn’t right.”

As she tried to get up, the needle in her left arm was pulled out, tearing her skin. Blood dripped down her pale arm.

“See? It doesn’t even hurt.”

There was no pain. That meant it made sense. She couldn’t be Yoo Hae-in.

She stared at her bleeding arm as she slowly moved it, then stepped out of the bathroom.

There had been an accident. A system window had appeared in her dream, telling her to play some kind of mafia game.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips.

“Hah… What kind of joke is this?”

Leaving the bathroom, Juhong looked around the hospital room.

But now that she really noticed, the room wasn’t normal at all.

She was wearing a hospital gown, but the room looked like a luxury hotel.

A fridge, a TV, a table, even curtains and a humidifier—everything was high-end.

“What… is this?”

She rubbed her face with both hands, and the blood from her arm smeared across her skin.

Where did things start to go wrong? No, more importantly—where did reality even begin?

If this was a dream, then was the accident a dream too? Or not?

Right—the accident.

Wouldn’t a massive explosion at a corporate training center in the middle of Seoul be all over the news?

They say people become strangely calm in extreme situations. Maybe that was happening to her now.

Her mind was a mess, completely jumbled. She couldn’t think of what to do next.

No… First, she needed to check the facts.

She needed to watch the news.

She walked to the table in the center of the room, picked up the TV remote, and turned it on. Luckily, the TV was already on a news channel.

The breaking news filled the screen.

“We bring you an update on the accident. The 72-hour golden time for rescues ended two hours ago.”

The screen showed aerial footage of the collapsed training center, completely destroyed.

“The current death toll stands at 16, with two missing. The only known survivors are Yoo Hae-min, who was rescued first, and Jung Hyung-woo, who was rescued the same day.”

“The police and fire department are struggling to determine the cause of the accident.”

“Initially believed to be a gas leak, authorities are now considering the possibility of terrorism.”

She barely listened to the news anchor. Instead, her eyes focused on the names scrolling at the bottom of the screen.

[Deceased: Hwang Jeom-su (52), Lee Do-ran (41), Kim Dan-woo (29)…]

Among the sixteen names, she recognized one. Her lower lip trembled as she bit down hard. The metallic taste of blood quickly filled her mouth.

Then, the missing persons list appeared.

[Missing: Yoon Soo-young (32)]

Soo-young… Her senior.

And then—

[Joo Hong (30)]

“This… isn’t a dream?”

[[Survivors: Yoo Hae-min (28), Jung Hyung-woo (30)]

“Am I… really dead?”

Her face twisted, on the verge of tears, as she shook her head in denial. She reached up and touched her face again.

No. That’s not right. I’m here. This is me. It has to be me.

But even her voice was different. It was undoubtedly her voice, yet it sounded unfamiliar.

What is this?

Just then, the hospital room door burst open. A woman walked in.

“Miss?”

The woman, holding two cups of coffee, widened her eyes in shock and hurried over.

“Oh my god, miss!”

Setting the coffee down on the table, she kept muttering in disbelief as she grabbed her hands.

Miss.

She had never seen this woman before.

A sleek bob, extravagant makeup, and designer clothes—there was no way someone like this could be an acquaintance. But when the woman’s gaze landed on her bruised face, the blood trickling down her arm, and the stained hospital floor, her face went pale.

“Miss Hae-in, let me see. You’re hurt. You’re bleeding.”

A manicured hand cupped her cheek.

“Who did this? Was it Seo Tae-jo?”

“Who are you to act like this—”

Unnerved by the touch of a stranger, she shoved the woman’s hand away and strode toward the door. First, she needed to confirm whether the accident had actually happened. But the woman blocked her path again.

“Miss Hae-in!”

Why does she keep calling me Hae-in?

Yoo Hae-in… That woman…

“Move!”

“Miss, please!”

She pushed the woman aside, only to be stopped again. It happened over and over.

Their commotion drew the attention of the hospital staff, who rushed into the room.

“Let go of me. Please!”

I have to go.

I have to see it for myself.

I need to confirm if the accident was real. If Kim Dan-woo is really dead. If Yoon Soo-myung and Joo Heung are actually missing.

I need to know!

…Then, the television news anchor delivered a breaking report.

“This just in: The missing person, Yoon Soo-myung, has been found in the rubble of the collapsed building.”

“This brings the death toll to 17. One moment—ah…”

“Unfortunately, the last missing person, Joo Heung, has also been discovered. He was found dead.”

“We extend our deepest condolences to the deceased.”

Joo Heung’s name echoed in her ears as her vision blurred. Tears streamed down her face.

It’s true…

Shaking her head, she moved again.

Am I really dead?

I can’t believe it. I have to see it with my own eyes.

But she never made it past the doorway. The hospital staff restrained her, and someone plunged a syringe into her arm. A sedative.

A heavy darkness consumed her once more.
***
His mind clouded, as if shrouded in a dense fog.

Joo Heung is dead.

He’s really dead.

It didn’t matter how the research center exploded, who was responsible, or how many people had died or been injured.

Whether his fiancée had survived or perished—it didn’t matter.

Only Joo Heung.

Only the fact that Joo Heung was gone struck Taejo with unbearable force.

Beyond the haze of his blurred vision, old memories surfaced, hazy yet vivid.

How Joo Heung smiled, how he drank water, the way his eyes wavered when he was embarrassed—it all flashed through his mind like a panorama.

How he laughed, how he cried, how he looked when he was lost in thought.

The first time they met as childhood friends. That afternoon when the sunlight scattered in soft, white hues, and he stood there, slightly aloof. Taejo had liked him from the very first moment.

The day he saw him again on campus after returning from the military—he had been so elated that he momentarily forgot what kind of person he had been back then.

For Taejo, Joo Heung was his first love.

A love that burned through him like a fever.

Yet, not once did he ever have the courage to stand by him openly.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips.

“Pathetic idiot.”

They had spent an entire year together, yet nothing had been real enough for him to hold onto.

Back then, that was just how things were. Even his breathing hadn’t felt like his own.

He hadn’t even been able to admit he was Rook’s friend, that they had met before. He hadn’t even had the right to choose how they parted.

After losing him, Taejo had tried to erase him from his heart. But of course, that hadn’t worked.

The more he tried to wipe him away, the deeper the marks became.

It was like scrubbing a stain—rubbing at it only made it spread, made it stand out even more.

Joo Heung was like that for him. So instead, he had forced himself to accept the absence, switched off his feelings like flipping a light.

And eventually, he grew accustomed to it. He even reached the point where he could say Joo Heung’s name without flinching.

But now…

Why is your name there?

Why is your name among the dead?

Taejo clenched his eyes shut, forcing back the flood of emotions.

Yet, in the depths of that suffocating darkness, the face of his first love surfaced, clear as day.