Light beyond the Dreams
Hwa-byung was dreaming the same dream again. Who are these children, and why are they striking me? And then—wait… who are you?
A girl, radiant as the noonday sun, appeared before him.
He jolted awake from the vision, drenched in sweat as though he had been trapped inside a sauna.
“It’s time,” he muttered, glancing at the clock flashing 12:13.
In a rush, he threw on a wrinkled shirt and an old, weather-beaten jacket—an outfit that made it obvious he intended to be out on some clandestine errand this late at night. Hwa-byung was a petty thief, surviving by targeting wanderers in crowded nighttime districts.
As planned, he made his way to Hongdae Street, pulsing with midnight crowds—a perfect hunting ground for pickpockets. Pretending to be a drunken vagrant, he began bumping into strangers, slipping wallets and phones from pockets with the ease of long practice. The scheme was flawless… until he spotted his lenders.
Their eyes met—not in romance but in cold, suffocating dread. And just like that, the familiar chase resumed: the mouse who had stolen from the cats' master, with no intention of returning the loot; and the cats desperate to redeem themselves by capturing him and presenting the stolen goods to their master.
Cornered in an alley swallowed by darkness, Hwa-byung gasped, “Ho-jin… you’re like my brother. I’ll repay Master Kim Yang-eun soon.”
Ho-jin tilted his head, a cruel smirk curling his lips.
“Oh, you’ll pay? Really? Tell me how. Tell me. Tell me.” His voice echoed as the other men joined the taunting chorus.
“I… I’m planning to rob Hana Bank soon. I just need more time,” Hwa-byung replied, voice trembling.
“Good plan,” Ho-jin sneered. “But let me enlighten you, since you still don’t seem to understand. There is no possible way for you to repay the boss. The amount—fifteen billion won—will multiply fourfold every day until you steal that bank. And you, my friend, are already too late.”
It wasn’t the first time Hwa-byung had heard about the ever-increasing debt, but each reminder hit him like a fresh shock. He had borrowed only fifteen million won six months ago.
“I’ll pay somehow… just give me time,” he whispered, staring at the pavement.
“Fine. One month. But we need some cash now—and something to punch, because the boss won’t be happy hearing you didn’t pay tonight.” He smiled wickedly. “Boys, let’s shake the money out of him.”
They beat him until he collapsed, then fled with everything he had pickpocketed that night.
As Hwa-byung drifted into unconsciousness, he felt as though someone were dragging him away. The same dream returned—the man beating him, the chaos—only this time, the angelic, glowing girl who always stood beside him was gone. In her place was only a suffocating void.
A sudden light blazed across his face.
He awoke in a sterile laboratory, wires and intricate machinery attached all around his skull. Panic surged through him. With raw desperation, he tore the devices off, smashing sensors and monitors before sprinting out of the room.
Alarms shrieked. By the time security forces burst into the lab, he had vanished.
“Find him immediately,” commanded an elderly woman dressed in a military general’s uniform.
“General Hye-jin,” a doctor in a full antibacterial suit reported, “Sergeant Ha-young has regained consciousness.”
