Chapter 66

"Honey, what are you doing?"

"Hm? Ah, nothing. Just — the house is quiet, is all."

Sitting quietly at the living room table with a cup of instant coffee, Hajin's mother, Youngin, smiled and answered her husband.

"With Hajin away, the house is so quiet."

Hawon, in exam-prep season, had been spending his weekends at the academy for intensive college-entrance sessions lately, gone all day. And ever since Hajin — who at least used to come home to rest on weekends — had left for the survival's live-in training, days of just the two of them alone had become the norm.

The semi-basement place that had once felt cramped with four of them in it now felt oddly empty.

Beep-beep-beep-beep—

And through the middle of that quiet routine came the familiar sound of the door keypad.

"What — Hawon came home early?"

"No, he didn't. He said he'd be home late today, asked me to come pick him up later…"

"Then who's punching in someone else's door code like that?"

The startled couple reflexively turned to look at the front door across from the living room, and soon the door opened — a faded suitcase pushed its way through the gap first. Behind it, a boy the size of the door came charging in with a clatter.

"Ma'am! Ma'am! Hey Mom! Take some of this!"

"Well, look at that — Hajin, is that you?"

"Maaaa'am, quick! Aaagh! Your son's about to die!"

"No, no — what is all this? How did you even get here?"

Kicking the suitcase in ahead of him, Hajin — squeezing through the half-open door with both hands loaded with unidentifiable bags — finally spilled the whole load with a clatter.

"Aigo, Kang Hajin! You're impossible!"

Realizing that the empty feeling of a few minutes ago had been peace, Youngin ended up smacking Hajin on the back as she gathered up the fallen bags. Watching all this play out, Dad — Jeonguk — hurried over to help sort Hajin's dumped luggage too.

Youngin asked her son in a startled voice:

"How did you get here — no advance notice? Weren't you supposed to be filming?"

"Got leave. Ah, Mom."

The two of them, watching their out-of-nowhere son with equal parts worry and delight, turned to Hajin at his call. Tangled up in his bags and now sprawled flat on the entryway floor, Hajin grinned and threw up a V-sign next to his eye.

"Your son took first place."

---

Yeah, first place.

We took first place.

—The second mission, To the Top!, first-place team — the Sad Ending team! Congratulations!

—Huh?

Can't stress this enough — I hadn't planned to do this well. Sarin, apparently, had been genuinely moved by our stage.

"Still, I really thought first would go to the Masquerade Ball side."

Well, whatever. Doing well is never a bad thing. When I flopped down onto my mattress, seeing the old ceiling I hadn't looked at in a while was a welcome sight.

On the second mission, we took first, and the Paran (Surge) team — the one Han Seongwoo thoroughly botched — took third. Thanks to that, every one of our team members earned benefit points. Which meant the odds were high that the Wings class had reshuffled too, but the result wasn't in yet.

—The next Wings class will be decided based on your existing scores, this mission's benefit, and one more thing.

—Your viewer votes.

Viewer votes.

Starting at 6pm this very evening, Miro Maze would launch viewer voting alongside our performance videos, dropping on MyTube and the Miro Maze homepage.

'Once the show actually airs, votes should start piling up more seriously — probably the next taping's after the first broadcast.'

There was still a little time until the first broadcast, but either way, the leave I'd been given was a week. The trainees would each have a week off, after which they'd come back to the company and pick up practice as usual.

And a week — that was more than enough time to re-set a lot of things.

183 backlogged alerts…. 。：゜(；´∩｀；)゜：。

…Yeah, I've got to clear that too.

While I was glaring irritably at the huge stack of red circles, someone knocked on the closed bedroom door.

"Hajin-ah, want me to order chicken?"

"Out of nowhere?"

"No, I just — happy to see my son's face for the first time in a while. And you took first, apparently. If you don't want it, forget it."

"Mother. Refusing chicken is not something that happens in my lifetime."

"All right, order it, then. My treat."

"Not now — is it okay if we order it later, at dinner? Let me sleep for a bit."

"Sure. Take a nap and order it later, then."

"Yesss!"

When I fist-pumped in wholehearted celebration, Mom — laughing like she couldn't believe me — closed the door back, telling me to sleep well, I must be tired.

I looked at the closed door for a moment. An old door, half its paint peeled off.

"…moving out was about three years from now, wasn't it."

Before, since it was where I'd lived half my life either way, I hadn't really felt the discomfort. But after months in Miro's shiny new building and Ju Eunchan's swanky one-bedroom, it stood out plain as day.

Our poverty — the kind I hadn't managed to register as a kid.

"……"

Suddenly, a lot of thoughts flickered through my head. A lot of memories and emotions, too.

—What's wrong, Hajin-ah? Mom believes in you. You're perfectly capable.

—…Mom knows you do well.

—And Mom's okay with it even if you're not.

In a house like this — living each today afraid of tomorrow.

How was Mom able to say things like that?

It's not like she knew the future the way I did.

"…This time, absolutely — I'm not getting regressed."

Three years from now, Mom and Dad would finally get to buy the home they'd dreamed of. An apartment with an elevator, south-facing, so full of sunlight you'd wake up at dawn if you didn't draw the curtains — that bright.

Completely different from this semi-basement — pitch dark without the fluorescent lights on, poor ventilation even with the window open, passersby's feet visible right through the glass.

"I'm not letting it get snatched away for nothing like that."

The fruits of the life Mom and Dad had worked so hard to earn — I couldn't let those slip through my fingers for nothing again.

And for that, there was a lot to check and prepare.

"All right. I'm ready."

At my dramatic declaration, the blue System window snapped up a big alert panel.

Through the recent update, the (Fixed) Regressor's permissions have been updated. More information about a human's 'timeline' is now accessible for review. To access the information, would you like to enter the 'unconscious space'? (Entry condition: knocked-out sleep)

"Fine. Let's go — see exactly what you've been updating."

When I nodded, a light bright enough to make my eyes feel like they'd pop out came pouring down. I quickly shut my eyes and felt the strength drain from my body as I slid down into the mattress. Like I'd taken cold medicine — my whole body sinking straight through the floor.

(Fixed) Regressor has entered the 'unconscious space.'

I fell straight into a deep sleep.

---

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that space from before. An empty expanse, wide open in every direction — a space of nothing.

Soon a familiar blue window came up in front of me.

Verifying the (Fixed) Regressor's permissions for this 'unconscious space.' This 'unconscious space' is now bound to the (Fixed) Regressor as personal space. You can imagine and materialize any space you'd like.

"I can turn this space into whatever I imagine?"

I thought for a moment. Basically, this was my own space — but as someone who'd never once, across any life so far, actually had 'a space of my own,' my imagination for this was startlingly barren.

"Well, whatever — spacious would be good, for a start."

I calmly tried to picture the workspace I'd only ever vaguely wanted.

While we're at it, ocean view would be nice.

Since I'd be doing all sorts of things here from now on, a proper desk of some kind would be good too.

Sitting all the time would wreck my back, so throw in a big roomy sofa too.

As I called things up in my head one by one, the empty surroundings filled in, and before long the place had a pretty decent workspace atmosphere going.

Fixed Regressor (Kang Hajin-nim)'s 'unconscious space' interior has been finalized.

"Oh — the permissions update slaps."

(Pleased) ＼＼\(۶•̀ᴗ•́)۶//／／

"All right, time to work through the backlog of alerts."

I checked the topmost one first, 'Update Log.' A whole run of items started coming up in front of me.

label: Kang Hajin (Fixed Regressor) Permissions Update (1.0) 1. More concrete information on 'human timelines' becomes accessible. 2. An 'unconscious space' is now bound to you. You may enter it whenever needed. — Entry keyword must be designated. — Time inside the unconscious space flows differently from real-world time; please note. 3. Interference over 'companions' is strengthened. You can exert greater influence on them. 4. Security tier has been upgraded.

"Number two, I get the gist. The rest could use some explaining."

Should I sit down for this. I moved toward the massive sofa next to me — clearly, at a glance, the plushest, most comfortable-looking thing imaginable. Even a quick look told you the moment you sat down, your butt was going to sink two meters in—

"Ow!"

S-since you materialized only the visual elements of the interior, tactile properties have to be specified separately—

"Gee, thanks — for the… early warning. Fuck…."

Pain like I'd dived headfirst onto a slab of rock shot up from my tailbone through my back. I crumpled forward and gritted my teeth against the unbearable pain.

"Izzis a zohfa? (Is this a sofa?)"

So if you'd imagine a bit more concretely and in more detail—

"So because my imagination is barren, I materialized this big, roomy, beautiful leather sofa as a slab of rock. Right. It's my fault. Got it."

…i-if you'd like to modify the interior, please nod your head! (≡^∇^≡)/

My back hurt too much to keep bickering. I nodded roughly and marshaled every ounce of imagination in me to render every sense in this space.

Fixed Regressor (Kang Hajin-nim)'s 'unconscious space' interior has been modified.

Pouring all my imagination in, I leaned back — half lying — into a sofa I'd customized to my taste down to the texture, the give, and even the temperature against my skin.

"Ha — nice. Feels exactly like Ju Eunchan's bed."

Space materialization complete. Please set an entry keyword.

"An entry keyword… so if I say it, I can enter? Then it can't be anything everyday."

Peppy as I was in here, back in reality I'd be sleeping practically dead.

Rather than picking something I might say normally and turning narcoleptic every time it triggered, I needed something distinctive — even if a little hard or weird.

"Ah, what should I go with. Something I wouldn't blurt out even by accident—"

The entry keyword must be at least 10 characters, including Korean, English, or special characters—

"You really are something else, huh?"

…but I was about to add that, as a special accommodation, Korean-only input has been enabled.

"Thaaanks. As always."

Ten Korean characters — a single word wouldn't cut it. It'd have to be a full sentence….

"Okay. I've got it."

Setting user's entry keyword. (Entry keyword: )

"I hate mint chocolate."

(?_?) …and?

"I hate mint chocolate."

I'm not curious about the (Fixed) Regressor's tastes and preferences. (╭ರ_⊙)

"What are you talking about. That's the keyword. I hate mint chocolate."

Exactly ten characters, and something I'd never say in daily life — not even as a joke.

"I'm team mint-choc, actually."