Actually, It’s a Messy Melodrama Chapter 11

“Jin Youngmin, get a grip!”

Taejun shouted urgently and ran towards the two men. No, he tried to run.

“Gasp……!”

Taejun’s body, which was stepping into the room, swayed greatly. Suddenly, his vision blurred and a sharp ringing—beep—sounded in his ears.

“Ah, damn it….”

Taejun staggered and cursed. A familiar sign; Taejun’s world was coming to an end once again.

“Let go of that hand…… you bastard……”

Despite staggering, Taejun didn’t give up and continued towards Cha Haeshin. Even though this world would end, even though this moment would become a moment that never happened and disappear beyond time, Taejun still wanted to save Cha Haeshin, who was here.

“Just a little, just a little more……”

Looking at Haeshin’s face, whose eyes had rolled back, Taejun reached out his hand. It was an excessively affectionate gesture for someone who wasn’t even related to him. However, Taejun didn’t have the time to think deeply about such things right now. Taejun’s mind was filled with a single desire. He wanted to save Cha Haeshin.

But the world, as always, was cold, and Taejun couldn’t reach Cha Haeshin and collapsed on the floor. Did Cha Haeshin die? Before he could think further, darkness engulfed his vision.

☂️

“Gasp……!!”

Taejun abruptly sat up in bed, flailing. He sat there, gasping for breath, his hands groping in front of him until he felt the soft touch of the blanket. Even as the scenery slowly came into view, Taejun couldn’t calm down for quite a while. It had been a long time since he’d been this shaken after a regression.

“Really…… this feels so damn……”

Taejun finally spoke. Even though he knew the regression had already occurred, his emotions wouldn’t settle down. The gruesome sight of Cha Haeshin that he had last seen remained in his mind like an afterimage.

“Sigh……”

Taejun let out a deep sigh and ruffled his hair roughly. The timing had been excessively fucked up, one after another. What were the odds that the end would occur at that very moment? If he had just a few more minutes, Taejun could have saved Cha Haeshin.

“……Then what would you have done?”

However, Taejun quickly dismissed his futile thoughts. It was just as he said. What would he have done even if he saved him? If that world was going to end anyway, saving Cha Haeshin wouldn’t have meant anything.

However, even though he thought so logically, Taejun still couldn’t compose himself. Witnessing the same person die twice right in front of him was certainly shocking, but he couldn’t understand why he was this shaken up.

If Taejun had received news of Cha Haeshin’s death, he wouldn’t have cared much. Out of respect for Youngmin, he would have paid his respects and given a generous condolence gift; that would have been the extent of Taejun’s reaction.

It would have been the same even if he had witnessed the death directly. He might be surprised and shocked to see someone die, but Taejun was puzzled by the personal anger he felt.

What was so important about Cha Haeshin’s death? He himself was suffering daily in a hell worse than death.

Taejun tried to catch his breath, pretending to be nonchalant, and then looked at the phone next to him. When did he return this time?

Honestly, at some point, he hadn’t even been curious about the regression point anymore. What did it matter when he returned, when nothing would change anyway?

But this time was different. Taejun clearly knew he harbored some expectation. He hoped for another chance to do something, to meet Cha Haeshin before he was trapped in Jin Youngmin’s prison.

Taejun slowly picked up the phone and checked the date displayed on the screen. His heart immediately sank. The clear four digits were imprinted on Taejun’s eyes as if burned there.

☂️

“Crazy……”

Haeshin cursed as soon as he opened his eyes. The feeling of being strangled still lingered, but he didn’t have time to worry about it. The important thing was the scenery unfolding before his eyes.

Haeshin was lying on a blanket on the floor in a vague space that couldn’t be called a living room or a kitchen.

Hastily sitting up, Haeshin reached for the pillow beside him. His hand grasped a small, old cell phone.

“Crazy. Crazy, really.”

Overwhelmed with emotion, Haeshin kept muttering the word “crazy.” Could the timing be any better?

This was Haeshin’s home. The shabbiest house at the top of a slum, reached only after passing through a narrow alley too small for cars and climbing a long flight of high, uneven stairs. A space where the history of poverty, sorrow, and violence remained intact.

This was the place where Haeshin had struggled to survive with his mother before marrying Jin Youngmin. Haeshin quickly checked the phone screen.

“Unbelievable……”

A smile spread across Haeshin’s face as he checked the date. He had desperately hoped for more time in the next round, and the date showed it was shortly after he had met Youngmin. This was pretty much the furthest back in the past he had returned, within the realm of possibility.

There were several fucked-up aspects to Cha Haeshin’s regression. First, the fact that it was infinitely triggered was one thing, and the fact that he was inevitably killed before July 7, 2023, the date of his initial death, no matter what he did, was also fucked up. The fact that the starting point of his new life changed each time was another shitty aspect.

However, there was one ultimate fuck-up that surpassed all others: he never returned to a point before he met Jin Youngmin.

If only Haeshin could return to a time before Jin Youngmin knew him, he could avoid getting involved with him, avoid dying, and live his life. But what kind of perverted bastard designed the mechanics of this regression? Haeshin’s starting point was always fixed after he met Jin Youngmin.

No matter how far back in the past Haeshin went to avoid him, Jin Youngmin would persistently track him down and either marry him or kill him, repeating this cycle.

And now, Haeshin had returned to a point just two months after he got to know Jin Youngmin. Even combining all the numerous rounds he’d been through, there weren’t many times he’d returned to such a distant past. He could say he was quite lucky from the start.

Although he wasn’t sure if the term “lucky” could be applied to this disastrous life.

“Ah, this is not the time.”

Haeshin, who had been briefly lost in sentiment at the ‘luck’ that had visited him after so long, hurriedly got up. He couldn’t express how happy he was to be in this space, incomparably smaller than the house he had shared with Youngmin.

After quickly washing up with cold water in the small, dirty bathroom, Haeshin put on a worn-out padded jacket. It was a jacket that the son of the restaurant owner he used to work for used to wear. He remembered asking for any wearable clothes that were being thrown away, and receiving this jacket.

Haeshin, who was always friendly and a good worker, was always loved by the people he worked with. He actively used his unfortunate circumstances to gain people’s sympathy and favor.

He acted cute and played the role of a pitiful but hardworking young man to older restaurant owners, and actively used his only asset, his handsome face, with his peers. By doing so, he could solve a significant portion of his food and clothing needs through others’ pity, and if he was lucky, he could gain even more.

He had no sense of shame or pride from the beginning. When you are beaten daily by a drunken father, there’s no room for such luxurious emotions to grow.

As he stepped out of the house, the chilling winter air brushed against his cheeks. Just yesterday, he had been in the midst of a scorching summer. The cold, which was difficult to block with just an old padded jacket, seeped in instantly, and Haeshin stepped out onto the street with a silly grin.

He hadn’t been lucky in the recent rounds. Not only did he keep returning to points after his marriage, but there were also many times he returned to a point where he was already imprisoned.

In other words, it had been a long time since Haeshin had enjoyed the freedom of walking down the street without anyone’s surveillance or any anxiety.

Bursting into laughter like a madman, Haeshin walked out onto the main street and headed straight for his favorite café, a regular haunt from long ago. Once a month, when he received his paycheck, Haeshin always bought himself the most expensive coffee at his favorite café. It was the only luxury Haeshin allowed himself.

After receiving the coffee topped with a generous amount of whipped cream, Haeshin settled down at a window seat bathed in sunlight. Watching people pass by outside the window, he couldn’t quite distinguish between dream and reality.

Anyone would fall into despair upon realizing that the regression, which they thought was a miracle, was actually another curse. Just like a soul who realizes they are in hell can never find rest.

So did Haeshin not despair? He had worked himself to death only to fall into an endless hell; he cursed the god he didn’t even believe in.

But Haeshin didn’t crumble there. He didn’t give up. He especially didn’t think that dying would be better. Haeshin was already someone born in hell, so he knew how to escape from the hell within him.

“Ah, the weather is nice,” Haeshin murmured, savoring the sweet cream filling his mouth. Once this moment passed, Haeshin would have to struggle desperately to survive again, but that’s why this moment of respite with a cup of coffee was important.

Creating a few fleeting minutes of happiness in any hell was what Haeshin did best. It was also the reason why he was half-mad.