Chapter One: A Green Flash, Then Darkness
"Beep... beep... beep..."
"Damn that sound."
The cursed alarm clock—what a vile noise!
The sound echoed relentlessly in the cold silence of the room, announcing the dawn of yet another day. The same suffocating, hellish routine I was used to.
Every time I heard that sound, I felt a deep ache in my soul, as if someone were wrenching my heart from its place.
"Aaaaah..."
I stretched weakly on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling while thoughts danced in my mind—useless, exhausting thoughts.
Every day was the same at Summit Construction, a company that had started as an ambitious dream and turned into a waking nightmare for me.
A wave of repetitive days.
"Ugh... I'm so tired. I just want to sleep."
Ever since I first stepped into this company five years ago, I'd felt like I was running in circles. Every task I did ended with me returning home, then back to work, then home again.
Even the salary that bastard paid wasn't worth a quarter of the effort I put in. He treated all the employees like his personal lapdogs.
And I never got the recognition I craved.
The manager, Mr. James, was a short-tempered, vile man who never hesitated to scold employees for the smallest reasons. He acted like the universe revolved around him, and I was always the target of his criticism.
Maybe because I came from an ordinary family—an easy target for bullying.
"Asher, this report is incomplete! Are you asleep?"
"Wake up, you lazy idiot! Ten percent of your salary is getting docked this month!"
Or, "Why is this project delayed? Don't you understand deadlines?"
We worked hard all night, and in the end, he was the one who got the promotion.
"I want to make this company number one in Korea."
That phrase echoed in my ears like an annoying refrain, slowly eroding my self-confidence.
I dragged myself out of bed, my body aching from exhaustion and lack of sleep. I felt like I was carrying a ton of problems on my back.
Many thoughts crossed my mind: "Should I skip work today?"
But the moment I remembered the manager's scowling face, those thoughts vanished instantly.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror and saw a man worn down by work.
"Hahahaha..."
A low laugh escaped my lips.
I didn't realize I'd become a real-life zombie.
Well, I was the zombie.
My eyes were sunken, my hair a mess, reflecting the chaos of my life. I dressed quickly.
"Damn it, I'm late!"
I headed to the kitchen to make a cup of black coffee, hoping it would give me enough energy to face another day in the hell that was Summit.
As I sipped my coffee, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and skimmed through some emails—all about urgent projects and unfinished tasks.
"Aaaah..."
I sighed deeply, feeling an immense pressure crushing my chest.
"I wish I'd never stepped into this hellhole."
"Should I quit?"
But then I remembered my mother in the hospital, and all those useless thoughts disappeared.
I was willing to endure all of this just to bring a smile back to her sick face.
On my way to work, the city streets were bustling with traffic. The honking and congestion only added to my stress.
"Finally, some silence."
The car was the only place where I could think, even for a little while, or let my tangled thoughts run free.
When I saw beggars on the street, I envied them, honestly.
They didn't have to work themselves to death every day. They had no one to take care of—their lives seemed like luxury compared to mine.
I always dreamed of a better life, a chance to prove myself, but every door was closed to me. I watched my colleagues get promotions.
What was the point of hard work if the boss's son or the boss himself got the rewards, while I stayed stuck in the same position, the same routine?
Ah, how I envied them.
Yes, I envied them—for their family connections, or maybe for their ability to not care about others while taking everything for themselves.
If there was one word to describe them, it was greedy. No, maybe worse.
But me? Every little detail of my work affected me, drained me, exhausted my soul.
When I arrived at the company, Mr. James greeted me with a sharp glare.
"Asher, is the new client project done? It needs to be ready by the end of the day!"
Endure... endure... endure...
Every fiber of my being wanted to punch him just to shut him up.
"Fine."
I'll last one more year—just long enough to get my mother treated—then I'll quit and make him pay for all my suffering.
He said it loudly, drawing the attention of passing coworkers. I shrunk into myself, nodded silently, and trudged to my desk.
"Tick... tick... tick..."
The sound of the clock echoed clearly in the empty space.
I sat in front of my computer and started working, but my mind was scattered. Anger and frustration battled inside me. I tried to focus.
I pressed my hands against my temples.
But the more I worked, the more it felt like my effort was meaningless.
I'll take a ten-minute nap, then keep working.
I felt like a machine, operating endlessly—no soul, no purpose.
All I muttered was:
"I wish he'd lower his voice."
I was so tired I didn't even hear what the department head was ranting about.
The hours dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. The numbers, charts, and graphs exhausted me.
Just endure. One more year.
My head spun, my eyes burned from staring at the screen. At noon, I skipped lunch—just another cup of coffee to fight off the drowsiness creeping in.
My coworkers chatted and joked, but I was isolated in my own world—a world of frustration and pressure. The company was like a massive prison, impossible to escape.
"Can you get me some coffee?"
One of the employees asked, but because my mood was so volatile, I snapped back angrily:
"Am I your damn coffee machine, you son of a bitch?"
Everyone fell silent and turned to look at me. No one expected me to curse the boss's son.
As the workday neared its end, I could barely stay conscious. Finally, I finished the report and sent it to Mr. James, who walked past me without so much as a thank you.
A bitter taste filled my throat.
Is this all there is? Is this the price of all my effort?
Instead of any acknowledgment, he said:
"I heard you cursed at my son."
"..."
"This is your last chance. Do it again, and you're fired."
I left the company with the last rays of sunlight, my body feeling like a block of ice, my mind exhausted to the point of pain. My legs barely carried me, and all I wanted was to get home, collapse onto my bed, and sleep—to escape this unbearable reality.
When I reached a crowded intersection, I stopped, waiting for the traffic light. The road was packed, cars streaming from every direction.
I felt dizzy, a fierce headache pounding in my skull.
I looked up at the traffic light and saw the green light flashing brightly—like a glimmer of hope in this gloomy day.
I didn't hesitate for a second. Moving forward was all that occupied my mind at that moment.
I took my first steps into the street, crossing the rain-dampened pavement. My eyes were fixed on the green light, as if it were a magnet pulling me toward salvation.
I didn't notice the engine roar growing louder.
I didn't hear the truck's horn blaring suddenly, shattering the evening silence.
There was no time to think. No time to move.
Everything happened in a split second.
"Finally, I'll get back to bed."
I just want to go home and sleep.
The massive truck, speeding from the opposite direction like a runaway train, came at me with insane force.
I didn't see it until the last moment—just a flash of black metal rushing toward me with terrifying power.
There was no time to scream. No time to react.
Just a violent, deafening impact—throwing my thin body into the air before slamming it onto the rough asphalt.
A sharp, indescribable pain spread through every cell in my body. It burned like a thousand knives piercing my flesh and bones.
I hit the ground, my eyes wide open, staring at the darkening purple sky as night fell.
The dim headlights of stopped cars cast long, eerie shadows over me.
"Hahahaha..."
A cold laugh escaped my lips.
If I'd known, I would've never gone to work.
What was the point of all this hard work if I was just going to die?
At least the truck driver will go to jail.
The sounds around me faded—or maybe I was the one fading.
I heard faint murmurs, distant screams, but everything seemed to come from far away.
I tried to move my limbs, but I couldn't. My whole body felt betrayed.
Each breath was a struggle—loud, ragged.
In those final moments, images flashed through my mind like an old film.
My mother's face, her warm smile, the words that gave me strength.
My unfulfilled dreams—all my ambitions crushed under the weight of harsh reality.
I remembered how I'd wished for a better job, to achieve something worth remembering.
I remembered the long nights spent working, all the effort I'd put in—only for it to end like this.
Tears blurred my vision as I muttered:
"We can postpone our family trip for another day, right, Mom?"
"I'm so tired... I just want to sleep for a while..."
My eyes were still open, staring at the sky.
My vision blurred. Colors blended. Shadows danced before me.
A strange coldness seeped into my limbs. Numbness spread through my body.
The light dimmed. The world around me slowly faded.
I no longer felt pain—just the sound of my heartbeat, slowing... slowing... then growing faint.
I heard a distant voice:
"We have to save him, quick!"
"Call the police!"
I wanted to tell them to arrest the truck driver. I knew I wouldn't survive—so he should spend the rest of his life in prison.
My eyelids grew heavy, as if the weight of the world rested on them.
The last thing I saw was a faint green flash—maybe the traffic light.
I closed my eyes.
Silence.
Darkness.
End of Chapter.