The place seemed to suffocate under the weight of trash bags piled in a corner. The acrid smell of plastic lingered in the air. Hanging from a precariously fixed pull-up bar above the doorframe, Jin was finishing a series of exercises. His thin, barely defined arms trembled under the strain as he panted. His rapid breathing was the only sound breaking the silence of the room.
"Forty-three... forty-four... forty-five…"
He dropped down heavily, his knees buckling under the impact. His sweat-soaked black hair fell into his eyes. Jin wiped his forehead with his sleeve and cast a fleeting glance at the wall clock. The hands moved with sadistic slowness.
"Another day… Another damn day." He exhaled, staring at the ceiling as if searching for answers in the sprawling damp stains.
For weeks, sleep had evaded him. Every night, he saw the same nightmares. An indescribable catastrophe, screams, faces twisted in fear. Black monoliths, engraved with symbols he couldn't decipher, haunted him. Jin woke up each morning with a lingering sense of nausea.
He pulled himself from his thoughts, crossing the room and stepping over piles of dirty clothes and trash bags. He stopped in front of a small cracked mirror hanging on the wall. His reflection showed a tired man, with dark circles so deep they seemed painted on. He ran a hand over his face.
"You're losing your mind, Jin…" he muttered under his breath.
He grabbed a towel and disappeared into the tiny bathroom. Cold water ran over his skin, sending a shiver through him. He hurried through his wash, the droplets running down his pale body, and slipped into simple clothes—a worn-out pair of jeans, an oversized black t-shirt, and a hoodie. Before leaving his apartment, he checked his backpack: a water bottle, a sandwich, and some work files. The sharp click of the door echoed through the decrepit hallway of the building. Jin Kang Soo adjusted the hood of his jacket over his damp hair, a water bottle tucked into the side pocket of his backpack. The smell of mold emanating from the walls reminded him once again of how miserable his living conditions were. His worn-out shoes scraped against the cracked tiles of the lobby floor. He stopped briefly in front of the glass door, hesitating before stepping outside.
Jin Kang Soo walked along the sidewalk, his bag slung carelessly over one shoulder. The air was cool but filled with the scent of pollution, wet concrete, and coffee wafting from small street-side shops.
He moved through a bustling city, where everything seemed to progress at a pace that crushed him. Modern buildings, covered in glowing advertising panels, blinked insistently. A massive holographic billboard projected the image of a smiling woman promoting an energy drink. Another, rotating, displayed an electric car gliding silently through a clean, utopian city—a far cry from the reality of Namjeong.
Jin looked up at the screens, their aggressive brightness reminding him of how insignificant he felt in this constant flow of empty promises. The messages cycled through, shouting slogans like "Live Your Best Life," or "Achieve Your Dreams with X-Corp!" Jin muttered under his breath:
"My best life? They have no idea…"
The streets were crowded. Impeccably dressed passersby walked like puppets of the system. Some spoke rapidly into earpieces, while others typed on their phones without ever looking up. A woman in a gray tailored suit adjusted her jacket while editing a report on her tablet. Nearby, an electric bike courier loudly apologized after nearly running over a pedestrian. Jin passed a young couple holding hands, laughing carefreely. He turned away, his jaw clenched. That kind of happiness felt almost unreal to him, like a scene from a movie he'd never get to star in.
The sounds of the city formed a familiar cacophony—the hum of electric cars, the buzz of delivery drones, and the constant murmur of conversations. Jin moved among them, invisible, just another cog in this immense machine.
As he passed by a small convenience store, a robotic voice called out to him from an interactive panel:
"Good morning! Why not start your day with our premium coffee at half price? Click here for more details!"
He ignored the offer, but the panel followed him for a few steps before shutting off, as if refusing to be dismissed. Jin sighed. Even the machines insisted he consume something.
Not far away, a group of high school students in uniform laughed loudly, discussing their favorite new video game. Jin slowed for a moment, listening to their voices. Their carefree attitude reminded him of a time he had almost forgotten—a time when the future didn't feel so heavy.
A street vendor, set up on the sidewalk, was preparing tteokbokki in a thick, fragrant steam that lingered in the air. The smell made his stomach growl, but he had neither the time nor the money to stop. He watched enviously as a student handed over a few bills for a steaming bowl.
"One day, maybe," he murmured to himself, an ironic smile on his lips.
Jin reached an intersection, where a wide, illuminated crosswalk signaled it was time to cross. A dense crowd gathered around him, and he found himself stuck between an overly tight-suited man nervously tapping on his phone and an exhausted mother pushing a stroller.
When the light turned green, the human tide moved as one, an unbroken stream of bodies advancing in mechanical synchronization. Jin let himself be carried by the flow, his thoughts drifting.
"Does everyone feel this way?" he wondered, looking around. "This emptiness, this feeling of being trapped in an endless loop?"
As he left the intersection behind, he passed an old man playing a violin on the sidewalk. Jin slowed for a moment, listening to the melancholy notes. Something about the melody made him want to stop, but he shook his head and kept walking.
Finally, he spotted the entrance to the subway station, a staircase descending into the city's underbelly. Around it, neon advertisements still flashed, touting insurance plans or miracle medications. Jin took a deep breath before descending the steps, immersing himself in the underground world of the subway.
As he approached the subway station, the crowd grew denser. High school students in uniforms chatted animatedly near a vending machine, their overstuffed bags dangling from their shoulders. A woman in a suit spoke rapidly on her phone, her gaze lost in the void. Jin weaved through them, indifferent to the constant buzz of conversations. The escalators, worn with age, groaned under the weight of the passengers. Jin gripped the handrail, his thoughts relentlessly returning to the image of disasters.
— "What does it mean? Why does it keep coming back?" he muttered, his brows furrowed.
A child climbing the escalator in the opposite direction stared at him, intrigued by his dark demeanor. Jin looked away, uneasy. In the station's main hall, flickering neon lights and advertising screens illuminated the crowd. Travelers rushed to ticket machines or to recharge their transport cards. Jin pulled his card from an inner pocket and swiped it over the reader. The beep was almost drowned out by the ambient noise. He descended to the platform, following the line of passengers, his thoughts elsewhere.
"Namjeong Station, Line 3, please mind the platform edge."
The subway doors opened with a hiss, releasing a wave of warm air. Passengers exiting jostled against those boarding, sparking a few irritated glances. Jin squeezed his way to a relatively clear corner and leaned against the wagon wall. The crowd surrounded him, yet he felt strangely isolated. An elderly woman beside him fanned herself with brisk, rhythmic motions, seemingly oblivious to the world around her.
In a corner, two teenagers shared earphones, laughing at something on their phone. Jin briefly observed the scene before fixing his gaze on the floor.
Then he heard a conversation just behind him.
— "Have you heard about those monoliths?" asked a man in a suit, clearly speaking to a colleague.
— "Yeah, it's just a marketing stunt, you know how they are..."
Jin's heart raced. That word again. Monoliths. The men's words echoed in his head like a blaring alarm.
— "Stop thinking about it," he muttered to himself, clenching his teeth.
But his mind refused to let go.
Then he felt it.
A movement in the distance, at the far end of the wagon. A figure that seemed... wrong. Jin slowly turned his head, his eyes scanning the crowd. And then he saw it.
A blurry, dark shape, motionless. Its edges seemed to waver, undefined, as if it didn't quite belong to this reality. And those red eyes. Bright, inhuman, fixed on Jin through the dense crowd.
His breathing became erratic. He stepped back, bumping into someone behind him.
— "Hey, watch it!" growled the suited man, visibly irritated.
Jin opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. The shape seemed to move closer, or perhaps it was the crowd shifting around it.
— "No... No, it's in my head. It's not real," he murmured again, louder this time.
Yoona, his coworker, suddenly appeared in his field of vision, her face framed by her brown hair tied in a ponytail. She frowned, concerned.
— "Jin? Are you okay? You look pale."
He tried to look away, but his eyes stayed locked on the shape. When he blinked, it was gone. Just like that, vanished.
— "Yeah... just tired," he replied in a trembling voice, accepting the hand she offered to help him up. "What are you doing on this line? I've never seen you here before!"
— "Tired? You look like you haven't slept in days," Yoona retorted, worried. "Oh, I just wanted a change for once. This line is convenient; you never told me about it!" she added playfully, though she and Jin barely spoke otherwise.
Jin nodded, but he was only half-listening. They exited the subway together, Yoona continuing to talk about their tardiness. Jin remained silent, obsessed with what he had seen.
"This can't just be fatigue... not this time."
As they walked toward their workplace, the image of the red eyes lingered in his mind, a scar he knew he could never erase.
Jin Kang Soo reluctantly approached the reception post. His worn sneakers crunched on the gravel, the repetitive sound amplified by the surrounding silence. He entered the staff room, a space with walls covered in photos of forest landscapes. The air was filled with the smell of cheap coffee. A few coworkers chatted in a corner, casting distracted glances his way. Jin avoided their eyes, grabbing his ID card and heading toward the locker room.
There, he ran into Yoona, already tying her red hair into a practical ponytail. Her presence, warm and lively, stood in stark contrast to Jin's sullen demeanor. She greeted him with a smile.
— "Feeling better now?" she asked lightly.
Jin shrugged as he pulled on his uniform.
— "Not really."
Yoona frowned, pulling out a chair to sit across from him.
— "You should talk to someone about it. It can't be healthy to keep everything bottled up."
— "I'm handling it," he replied curtly, not meeting her eyes.
She sighed but didn't press further. Her gaze lingered on him, concerned, as he finished buttoning his jacket.
---
Outside, a group of visitors had gathered near the main kiosk. Jin approached them, his face expressionless. He scanned the crowd: families with excited children, couples seeking a peaceful escape, and a few foreign tourists armed with cameras. Adjusting his badge, he began to speak, his monotone voice betraying his lack of enthusiasm.
— "Good morning, everyone. I'm Jin Kang Soo, your guide for the morning. Today, we'll be exploring part of the Yeowool Forest. Please stay on the marked trails and avoid touching the wildlife or plants."
A child tugged on his mother's sleeve, pointing at Jin.
— "Mom, why does the man look so sad?" the child whispered.
Jin pretended not to hear, but his lips tightened ever so slightly.
— "Alright, follow me," he added, turning on his heel to lead the group onto the main trail.
---
The forest seemed alive, with branches crunching underfoot and the wind rustling through the leaves. Jin continued his explanations, almost detached.
— "Here, you can see oak and Nyeosong pines, some of which are over three hundred years old. These trees are vital to the local ecosystem."
At the back of the group, a couple exchanged quiet laughter, clearly more interested in each other than Jin's information.
— "Excuse me, what bird is that?" a woman asked, pointing to a silhouette perched on a branch.
Jin squinted.
— "Probably a woodpecker. They're pretty common around here."
As the group stopped near an old oak tree for a short break, Jin felt a chill run down his spine.
A movement in the shadows caught his attention. His eyes locked onto what he thought was a humanoid figure, concealed among the trees. For a split second, he saw strange contours, like a deformed body.
He blinked, and the figure was gone.
— "Are you okay, Jin?" Yoona had moved closer, her worried gaze fixed on him.
— "Yeah... I think so," he said, running a nervous hand through his hair, trying to convince himself he'd imagined it.
---
The group resumed their walk. The children's laughter and the adults' lively discussions became a distant hum for Jin, muffled by his own thoughts. He struggled to focus, but the hallucinations came in waves.
Suddenly, as they reached a small stream, a man from the group—a young tourist with a smug grin—approached Jin.
— "Hey, guide, what's with this haunted forest? Do you hire actors to scare people?" he said mockingly.
Jin felt his blood boil.
— "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied coldly.
The tourist laughed.
— "Oh, come on, man. Everyone saw that weird thing earlier. Is it part of the show?"
Before Jin realized what he was doing, he grabbed the tourist by the collar and shoved him against a tree.
— "You think this is a game? You think you can talk to me like that?" he shouted, his voice trembling with rage.
The tourist, shocked, tried to break free, but Jin was like a man possessed. His fists came down hard, brutal, and uncontrolled.
— "Stop it!" a woman in the group screamed as other visitors backed away, frightened.
That's when Jin's boss arrived, accompanied by Yoona.
— "Kang Soo! What the hell are you doing?!" The boss grabbed Jin by the shoulder and yanked him back. Jin turned his furious gaze toward him, but the sight of Yoona's terrified face snapped him back to reality.
— "Are you out of your mind?! You want to ruin my reputation? You want to ruin this business?!" the boss roared, his face red with anger.
Jin clenched his fists, trying to stay calm.
— "It's not what you think—" Yoona began, panicked.
But the boss cut her off.
— "Shut up! He's a complete disgrace. Do you hear me? A disgrace! I want him out of here!"
Yoona stepped in, her voice trembling.
— "Sir, he's just stressed. Maybe—"
— "He's fired, Yoona! He's done here!"
Jin raised a hand to silence Yoona, then turned to his boss.
— "You're right. I'm done here. But I swear, you'll regret treating me like this."
He tore off his guide badge, threw it to the ground, and walked away without looking back.
---
Jin Kang Soo trudged toward his apartment building. His body felt heavy with exhaustion, his clothes still reeking of the forest and sweat, and his fists, which he had used earlier on the tourist, remained slightly trembling. Yet, he didn't have the energy to feel guilt or shame. He just wanted to get home, away from the chaos of the outside world, and bury himself in his solitude.
When he finally reached the foot of his building—a decrepit concrete tower worn down by time—he climbed the spiral staircase slowly. The elevator, as always, was out of service, and the persistent smell of mildew and rotting garbage clung to the air. Jin quickened his pace, eager to lock himself away in his tiny room.
But when he reached his floor, the sight before his door left him frozen in place.
A pile of garbage bags overflowing with clothes, battered books, and personal belongings was haphazardly stacked outside. His worn gym bag sat on top, almost as if mocking him. A bright red eviction notice was taped squarely in the middle of the door, its bold letters screaming their merciless message:
"EVICTED. RENT UNPAID."
Jin stood motionless, disbelief washing over him. He stepped forward slowly, his trembling fingers tearing the paper from the door. He read the words again and again, as if trying to decipher a different meaning from their stark simplicity.
A whirlwind of emotions surged through him—first confusion, then a dull, simmering anger, and finally despair. He let the paper slip from his grasp, fluttering to the ground like a discarded leaf.
— "No... no, this can't be happening," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
He dropped to his knees, his gaze distant and unfocused. The world around him blurred, the walls of the hallway seeming to close in like a cage. Jin ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it in frustration.
For a long moment, he stayed there, crouched on the grimy floor, enveloped by the oppressive silence of the empty corridor.
— "Why? Why is this happening to me!" he screamed, pounding his fist into the ground.
The physical pain mixed with the ache in his heart, but it wasn't enough to dull the torrent of dark thoughts consuming him.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Still on his knees, Jin turned his head to see Yoona approaching, holding a closed umbrella in one hand.
— "Jin?" she called softly.
He quickly looked away, awkwardly wiping his reddened eyes.
— "What are you doing here?" he asked in a hoarse voice.
Yoona stopped a few feet from him. His belongings scattered, his broken expression... it all tore at her heart.
— "I followed you. After what happened today... I was worried about you."
Jin slowly stood up, still avoiding her gaze.
— "Worried about me? Why? I'm just a failure. Fired from my job, evicted from my home. What do you want to hear? That everything's fine?"
— "Stop," she said firmly. "Don't talk about yourself like that. You're going through a rough patch, but that doesn't mean you're a failure."
He laughed, a bitter, joyless laugh.
— "A rough patch? Yoona, look around. My life is a disaster. And you, why are you here? To pity me?"
She stepped closer, hesitantly reaching out to touch his shoulder.
— "I'm not pitying you, Jin. I just want to help."
He stepped back, raising a hand to stop her.
— "I don't need help. I'll fix this. Like always."
But at that moment, his body gave way. The accumulated exhaustion, stress, and repressed emotions took over. Jin staggered before collapsing, unconscious, into Yoona's arms.
— "Jin! Jin, wake up!" she cried, panicked.
Yoona knelt beside him, checking to make sure he was still breathing. Relieved, she sighed and murmured to herself:
— "What are you doing to your body, Jin? Why are you doing this to yourself?"
She glanced one last time at the scattered belongings by the door, then, with great effort, she lifted her unconscious colleague and helped him down the stairs, a clear idea in her mind.
Jin Kang Soo, the boy with the broken gaze, was not going to spend this night alone.