Free Web NovelIt didn’t take long to reach the bridge. It was late, so the road was empty, no pedestrians in sight. Dragging his aching soles, Haejun walked across the bridge. A cold wind swept through, scattering his hair.
About halfway across, Haejun leaned his arms on the railing and looked down. The water was calm. It felt like it would swallow someone like him without a ripple and keep flowing on, unbothered. When the sun came up, the world would carry on just fine, as if he’d never existed in the first place.
Haejun took off his slippers and set them aside. Then he lifted one leg onto the railing. He hesitated for a moment, then tensed his body and climbed over. He clutched the railing with both hands and lowered his head. The city lights shimmered and wavered across the surface of the river. freewebnovёl.ƈom
He’d let impulse carry him all the way to the river and over the edge of the bridge, but now that he was actually about to let go, he was terrified. His legs shook violently, and the hands gripping the railing turned red, then pale, his knuckles screaming from the strain.
The wind was vicious. It wasn’t quite winter yet, but it was already too late to call it autumn, and the wind slapping his cheeks felt like a north wind blowing straight off the Siberian plains.
If he went back, all that awaited him were humiliating videos and being squeezed dry in those bastards’ hands. Throwing himself down there was the only way to save what little life he had left. Thinking that, Haejun squeezed his eyes shut.
Just as he barely managed to lift a single pinky finger, a car came speeding toward the far end of the bridge. Its headlights swept across Haejun’s side profile as it passed. He almost let go in shock from the glare.
“...!”
He’d climbed over the bridge prepared to die, but when he nearly actually fell, cold sweat soaked his forehead, his soles, his palms.
The car slowed as if it were going to pass him by, then gradually came to a stop. Haejun was pouring all his attention into the black river below, so he didn’t notice someone approaching him at an unhurried pace.
Only when the man stopped about a step away, bent forward slightly, and leaned his arms on the railing did Haejun sense his presence.
“Hik!”
He almost fell a second time. This time, tears even pricked at his eyes. Pressing himself tight against the railing, Haejun looked at the man. The face smiling faintly was familiar. No—more than familiar. It was a face that resurfaced in his dreams from time to time just to torment him. Haejun’s mouth fell open.
“C–CEO?”
“Hi.”
The greeting was absurdly casual. Too calm for someone who’d just stumbled upon a suicide attempt. He looked at Haejun like someone who’d come out for a bit of sightseeing, indifferent to whether Haejun jumped or not.
“How did you—”
“I was passing by and saw Cha Haejun.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
There was nothing he could say. Haejun’s lips moved uselessly. His head wouldn’t work, couldn’t figure out how to keep the conversation going. All that came to mind were nothing but insane things.
Then please go on your way, I’m about to jump now. Nice meeting you before I die. Sorry to be shameless, but could you call 119 about ten minutes after I fall so they can find the body? I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but please, out of basic human decency, make sure they collect the corpse.
“Jumping?”
Seeing Haejun hesitate, Lee Kangjoo asked. Despite the wording, his tone wasn’t provocative. There was no curiosity in his voice either. He was simply asking. Whether he would jump or not.
“I should.”
“Then why hesitate?”
“I’m scared.”
“Not ready yet?”
Haejun nodded. He’d been pushed here by impulse, but with death right in front of him, he kept shrinking back. Even so, he had no intention of climbing back inside the railing. Death was behind him, death was ahead of him. The only difference was whether it was a social death or a physical one.
Lee Kangjoo stared at Haejun for a moment, then took out a cigarette. He put it to his own lips and lit it, taking a deep drag that hollowed his cheeks. He didn’t look like someone who smoked often, but Lee Kangjoo smoked so well that Haejun found himself watching without realizing it.
Lee Kangjoo offered the cigarette to Haejun. Then, noticing the two hands gripping the railing, he let out a quiet “ah” and placed it directly between Haejun’s lips instead. Like laying flowers on a grave, like lighting incense at a funeral, like burning a cigarette and setting it down for the dead.
“I came because I was curious what you’d do, but if this keeps up, it counts as aiding a suicide. The punishment for that’s pretty heavy. You could even do prison time.”
“If you just... leave.”
“I’d like you to decide quickly. Whether you’re jumping or not.”
“I’ll take care of it myself.”
“I’ll watch.”
Something surged up in Haejun’s chest. One person was standing on the brink between life and death, and the other was calmly watching like it was entertainment. It was obvious he had no intention of stopping him, and that made it hurt even more.
How was it that even the person he met at the very end of his life wasn’t on his side? This life was screwed—thoroughly screwed. If he ever met the god who’d assigned his fate in the afterlife, even if he was too scared to curse, at least one pointed finger would make him feel a little better.
“I’ll jump after I finish the cigarette.”
“I’ll wait.”
Haejun deliberately smoked it slowly, harshly. With every drag, the sanity that had run away came creeping back, one step at a time. By the time only the filter remained, the last shred of his mind had fully returned.
The man took the shortened cigarette straight from Haejun’s mouth. Then he pulled out a portable ashtray and put it inside. He looked like the type who’d toss the butt straight into the river without a second thought, yet he observed public manners meticulously.
But he wouldn’t stop a suicide.
Lee Kangjoo didn’t say anything even when Haejun finished the cigarette and didn’t jump. He ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) just stood there, gazing at the flowing river like someone who’d come out for some fresh air.
“Aren’t you leaving? Your car’s been waiting over there.”
Haejun tipped his chin toward the car parked on the shoulder. Lee Kangjoo just shrugged.
“He’s probably sleeping. He likes it better when I’m late.”
“......”
Haejun looked down at the river. There was no longer any excuse left, not even a cigarette. The urge to jump was gone. Thinking that jumping now would be the end brought a vague sense of emptiness crashing over him.
Going back wouldn’t change reality anyway. He’d be hounded by loan sharks until he dried up and died, or have his belly cut open and his organs sold, or be sent off to some island and worked like a slave until he dropped dead. If that was the case, was there really any reason to hesitate?
Don’t get attached. Just jump.
Even so, fear made Haejun turn to Lee Kangjoo with the face of a terrified child. Lee Kangjoo was looking at him too. A long time had passed, yet there was no boredom in his expression. He simply stood there like a statue, as if he’d listen to whatever Haejun said.
A thought brushed past his mind. Since he was going to die anyway, it wouldn’t be too late to jump after being rejected. Haejun opened his mouth. His lips, chapped white from the cold wind, trembled.
“CEO.”
“Yeah.”
“Will you buy me?”
“Buy Cha Haejun?”
“I’m good at everything. And if I’m not, I’ll work hard until I am.”
Lee Kangjoo tilted his head slightly, humming. He narrowed his eyes and swept Haejun up and down, as if measuring his value.
“I’ve never paid to eat before.”
“Then try it this time.”
At the bold answer, Lee Kangjoo let out a short scoffing laugh. His gaze turned back toward the river. Judging by the sneer at the corner of his mouth, he looked ready to refuse.
If it were anyone else, Haejun would’ve begged them to think it over, to tell them they wouldn’t regret it. But in front of Lee Kangjoo, the tongue that had served him his whole life was useless. A sharp self-loathing stabbed at him.
He should’ve jumped the moment he ran into Lee Kangjoo. Then it wouldn’t have come to this.
Still, whatever lingering attachment to life was, Haejun kept clinging to the railing. Whether yes or no, he wanted an answer soon. His arms and legs were starting to lose strength.
If this dragged on any longer, it wouldn’t be a choice anymore—he’d fall by accident when his strength gave out. He bit his lip hard and forced strength into his fingers.
“That might work.”
“What?”
Thinking he’d misheard, Haejun asked again. Lee Kangjoo turned back with a faint smile.
“Really?”
“You say you’ll work hard. I’ll believe you, just to see.”
The unexpected answer made the city lights suddenly seem dazzling. Unable to believe it, Haejun asked once more, and Lee Kangjoo turned away, saying, “If you don’t like it, forget it.”
“Thank you, thank you!”
He couldn’t let go of the lifeline that had dropped from the sky. Haejun bowed deeply again and again. Then he nearly fell, hurriedly wrapping his arms and legs around the railing. The sight must’ve amused him, because Lee Kangjoo laughed out loud.
“Alright, then. Let’s come over this way.”
He’d been about to lift his leg to cross the road when Lee Kangjoo slipped his hands under Haejun’s arms. Haejun wasn’t light, but Lee Kangjoo lifted him effortlessly, without even bracing himself, and set him back inside the railing. Haejun was hoisted into the air like a toy in a child’s hand, then landed on the ground, blinking in disbelief.
