/CHAPTER 1: Prologue - Rabbit Hole/

「There are three ways to survive in a ruined world. I have forgotten some of them now. However, one thing is certain: you who are currently reading these words will survive.

–Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World [Complete]」

I heard footsteps outside the door— well, at least I thought I did. It caught me off-guard, and I dropped the book I was reading (which is Alice In Wonderland) on my face. A corner hit my eye, and I exclaimed a loud 'fuck!' with a raspy voice. Pain immediately shot to my throat and I had to spend a couple minutes silently suffering in my own right.

I took a peek at my 'roommate', who is thankfully still sleeping away. I decided to get up and put my slippers on before quietly exiting the room. There's no way I'm going to fall back asleep with this irritating stinging in my throat.

I walk through the near-empty hallways, the smell of the hospital disinfectant adamant. It's nearly early morning, and I suppose the only people still awake at this hour are the nurses and doctors on night shift.

I checked my wallet for any spare change and approached a vending machine. Dropping the coins in and picking a cold bottle of chocolate milk, I settled on a nearby bench. I hastily opened the bottle and took a swig, hoping that it would somewhat relieve the pain.

I ended up drinking it the wrong way, and I choked, some milk ending up out of my nose. With each cough, is more stabbing pain in my throat.

Karma for attempting suicide? I suppose so. Rather annoying, if you ask me.

...

"I will not go back to that godforsaken house, Eunwoo." I abruptly dropped the call and exited the bathroom stall I had locked myself in. More of my misfortunes which I hope will stop soon.

I would like to consider myself more of a lucky person than an unlucky one, thank you very much.

Would he stop interfering in my life? Probably never. As worthless as I am, I'm still his brother.

I looked at my watch. Quarter to six, I rubbed the needle marks from the blood transfusion. It still hurts like hell.

I experienced a fatal hemorrhagic shock on that day, so the doctors were trying to up my blood volume again. They insisted it was necessary even though I would've rather died.

Taking a quick peek at the mirror, I'm still quite pale and my lips are still tinted a bit blue.

I'm Yun Daehyun, a 'runaway' who's been living in a half-decent goshiwon and on convenience store meals. I chose to study specifically in some shabby middle school infamous for its high delinquent population. It was far less than what I was used to, but I managed well because I had to.

My family couldn't bother to black list my credit card, so I didn't have to worry about finances for the time being.

I scoffed as I thought back to that idiot's pleas. Those inhumane creatures I call my 'family' never liked me, my distant relatives wanted to take advantage of me, and my brother isn't even actually that concerned about me.

He's just playing an act because I'm his favorite (and only) scapegoat.

From an outsider's point of view, it's an undeniably lonely existence indeed. But I don't really care.

Now, if you were to be...informed that the world will come to a definite end in 13 year's time, what would you do?

My answer? Try dying long before that happens. I don't care how, I just want to be out before I have to involve myself in such a mess.

Dealing with chaos like that is far beyond what I consider is worth living for.

But come to think of it...it should be today, right?

Should I...?

I ruffled my hair a bit, taking note of the blonde roots growing in. It wasn't pleasant getting my hair dyed black whenever my blonde hair grows in even a little, but they had me swear to do it no matter what.

I decide to take the elevator, pressing the button for my ward. I mean, if I'm going to be here trying to avoid it, I might as well check it out.

Plopping down in a back-row seat, I waited for that person to appear. A gentleman with a fedora hat shortly arrives and fiddled a bit with the PC sitting in the middle of the lobby.

The elevator dings and he stepped out.

The gentleman stepped aside to let him use the PC.

That person, whose existence I wished remained simply as a vivid memory of a dream easily forgotten.

Fifteen years old, constantly bullied for having a murderer as a mother. A person who only knew how to read and consume stories. A child who tried to kill himself by jumping out of his classroom window.

How did I know this when he was simply just my seatmate that I ignored for the past two years?

Well, before I tell you, do you believe in reincarnation? Transmigration? Stories where fiction becomes reality, or...ones where reality becomes fiction?

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

I continued to observe him.

He appeared to be in a daze, and I recalled the sentences written in that story.

[I remembered the first time I read that novel.]

[A really stuffy, boring hospital's ward. A single PC located in its lobby.]

[When I stood in line to have a go at it, a gentleman wearing a fedora stepped aside for me. The computer screen at the time was showing the webnovel platform that I enjoyed visiting.]

[I dazedly stared at the screen before inputting the keywords.]

[I might have inserted three or so words, but couldn't quite remember what I typed back then.]

[However, I still remembered what I was thinking of back then.]

[The mechanical pencil leads strewn about on the classroom floor, the indigo-hued skies extending far beyond outside the windows.]

[What I could tell for sure was that my hands, used to open the classroom window, had typed something and that led me to discover that novel.]

Chills went down my spine when I thought about what I felt when I took my cutter to my throat and made my irreversible decision.

The cobwebs strung up in the bathroom ceiling, the disgusting smell of the toilets, and the dim fluorescent lights, they were still vivid my memory

How desperately I wanted to scream in pain when I cut my own throat.

The blood dripping on the dirty floor tiles, how I barely managed to open the stall's door despite my shaking hands and limped out to the hallway. I could no longer remember what I thought or felt at the time, but perhaps, some of it is regret.

It was an unpleasant memory I hope I'll forget with time-- or won't remember when I try the same stunt again. I quickly shook my head to ignore it and watched him again.

Running away. Perhaps that's what I was trying to do. 

I know that person is trying to run as well. That's what I deduced from what I know of his life.

A thought flashed into my mind.

'Approach him.' Like I was a mere marionette being manipulated by strings, I stood up and step-by-step, I walked nearer to that person.

...Am I being stupid? Why am I actually doing it? After all the effort of running away from this reality?

Sure enough, I failed more when I tried to avoid it and ended up in a worse position. I valued my pride too much to crawl back to those creatures. I couldn't find another school that's willing to accept a runaway rich kid, so I was stuck with the very thing I was trying to avoid. But to make a reckless decision now...

'He's a couple steps away, say something!' The voice at the back of my mind cried. I wanted to curse at it, but I was too out of it to do anything.

Perhaps I actually wanted to get a closer look at that story.

I felt frozen. No words came out of my damn mouth. My injury felt like it was new again, and I wanted to rip out my neck.

I turned on my feet and swiftly ran away.

...

"Are you crazy, Yun Daehyun? Are you going crazy, Yun Daehyun? Have you finally lost your fucking mind, Yun Daehyun?" I hit myself in the face with each sentence. My pale cheeks turned beet red, and I splashed some water onto my face. I turned off the faucet and searched my pockets for something sharp.

Ah right. They stripped me of anything that could help me hurt myself due to my self-harming habit.

It was stupid, really. I'd sue them if I could. But then again, it's their job and I'm a patient with history of attempted suicide.

Eventually I resorted to going back to the ward and sleeping it off. I don't have any mental energy to even think, and I seriously really wanted to sleep, preferably forever.

I opened the door, and found my 'roommate' getting ready to sleep. How long did I spend in that bathroom, exactly? (I later learned it was two hours. Time does fly too quickly.)

I simply stride past him, my eyes set on the alluring bed.

I heard him shuffle around and fall off his bed, but I had already fallen deep asleep to do anything about it.

...

Now, about your question: who exactly is he? How'd I know about that major catastrophe happening in 13 years?

Long story short, I was born with the memories of a particular story. Each word and each letter is engraved in my brain, and no matter how much I forget about other things, it remains vivid as ever.

Perhaps it's a natural understanding that came with the memories, but even as a young child, I didn't fail to realize its truth. I contemplated long and hard if those memories are even reliable.

And they were. When I was 10, I saw the news. My foolish brother was treating my wounds in the living room and our parents were out working late into the night. I was pretty dizzy then, but I was sure of what I'd seen.

The murder case of a wife killing her husband in self-defense. The novel released later sold out like hotcakes. The names matched up well.

Lee Sookyung and Kim Dokja.

I had an epiphany. Maybe I was already doomed from the very start.

...

We were discharged on the same day, and we were fetched by who I can only note as extremely unpleasant guests.

For my dear seatmate, his aunt and uncle who were less than happy to welcome him back. I had only gotten a mere glimpse of them when they came to fetch him in the hospital lobby.

And for me, a secretary and a car readied to take me somewhere. Where? I don't know. Probably back to that hellhole.

I can tell most people would kill to have my luxurious life.

My pockets are the deepest as it could be, and my face can capture any lady as I like. I could study anything I want, and since my 'parents' don't care about me as much as they do my brother, I have...what you could constitute as 'freedom', I suppose.

It's just that-- being called the 'trash' of the family, whatever those creatures did when I was a child, and the...incidents back in the elitist academies I used to attend. It wasn't something I wanted to use my energy on when I'd rather read or go making out with meat grinders.

If I were to be asked if the trouble is worth it in exchange for almost-infinite wealth, I'd say it isn't.

It really isn't. Money is great, but only when there's no thick strings attached. Like family.

The car window rolled down to reveal my brother's grim expression. I opened the door with force and hoped it would break. It didn't.

The secretary took my backpack and tossed it into the car trunk. I took a seat next to my brother.

"Daehyun-ah. You need to drop this ridiculous delinquent act and go back home." So he's here to make me go back?

I didn't answer and instead opened the window. It didn't feel any less suffocating.

"Mother and Father are growing worried about you, you know? Even Grandfather is getting anxious. You're being too selfish." Maybe I am. But wasting time on something so trivial like family matters is worthless.

"Just drop me off here. I have to stop by my part-time job." He made a disgusted face when I said 'part-time job'. They had a pride like mine, but unlike me, they hated anything that 'commoners' did.

They're so out of touch with reality, it's laughable. Just so I can feel a little better about my shitty situation, I stopped using my card long ago and worked part-time. I didn't tell them that and it seems like they weren't keeping tabs on me in the first place.

"Whatever." He threw some cash my way. Did I pick it up? Of course I did-- it's money. "You're still part of the Cheon-Yun family. Be sensible."

They dropped me off at a bus station. I vomited into some pitiful-looking trash can. Dealing with those creatures always makes me sick.

I settled on the bench waiting for the bus and counted the money (damn, he gave me a lot).  Money is good. Too much is too much, so I'm content with just enough.

I suppose it's a day for some nice tteokbokki.

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