purpose

EP2 

I wake up when the alarm goes off. At the last minute to get out the door for my cafe job. '9 o'clock' 

The sun is barely rising and it's a gruelling night without an alarm. 

I check my phone and see a few text messages. A text telling me to make sure to vote because we're about to elect a president. 

And then two more, one from the director. 

"Why don't we go to the back mountains today and do some extra strength training?"

 And one from the house yesterday. 

"You're taking the courier off today, right?" 

He flashed me a big smile and went into the bathroom. 

On the table are cans of tinned food left over from a few days ago and unwashed dishes. 

and a sweaty sweatshirt begging to be saved. 

'I'm going to do some housework today' 

My routine to start the day is simple. 

I find a needle in the sink, lightly prick the back of my hand twice, taste the trickle of blood, and wipe it off my face. 

The rest of the day flows very neatly and clearly. 'Purpose' and 'awakening' 

I rinse off my skinhead hair and my body, which looks worse for wear, and head to the café. 

10am. 

The café I work at is in a frenzy of activity. 

The café is located in the centre of Seoul, so it's busy around lunchtime, and there are many private coffee brands. 

I like Jung Dahae, the girl I work with, because she's a very sincere and good girl. 

On the one hand, she's so sincere that it makes me feel a little sad. 

She's 20 years old and doesn't realise that the world is cold and harsh. 

"How are you?" 

"Hi, I'm going to run the espresso machine and wipe the table, so you can get some rest!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm in a good mood today and you're always early."

"Is something wrong?"

"Just a nice day. Get some rest."

The boss wasn't a CCTV-watching psycho, but because of his personal brand, he made quite a few demands of his assistant. 

Still, he was grateful.

 He hired me and supported me, and although he was a bit demanding, it wasn't hard to understand his position. 

As Byung-taek said yesterday. 

There's a lot of trouble for part-timers to get into if they offend the noble guests. 

Most of them are psychos, and if they write something weird on the internet, it's too easy for them to be destroyed in Seoul, which is a brand paradise. 

After such a hectic day, vitamins come to the rescue. 

Between 11am and 12am, the people I love come in. 

Jihyun always comes in around 11am to buy coffee.

"Hello, Jihyun, you're back again?"

"Hurry up with the coffee, I just came out of work because I want to drink it."

At that point, Dahae interrupts. 

"Yes, I'll have it ready in a minute!" 

And in less than three minutes, I have a cold Americano. 

I know Ji-hyun's reaction to Dahae's Americano. 

I know she'll come back tomorrow with an unsatisfied face. 

Today is one of those days. 

About half an hour later, Min-jae, a well-built man, walks in. 

He is unlucky enough to come in when there are the most people, so he doesn't get the benefits. 

He ordered two cups of coffee because he liked yesterday's coffee. 

"I liked yesterday's coffee so much that I'm going to drink it all afternoon~"

"Would you like two cups then?"

"Yes, I think two cups will be fine!"

A friendly, flirtatious tone. It is the way of the world to be kind to those who hold the sword. 

This time, Dahae lets me pick. I prepare the sandwich that someone else ordered. 

I know it. 

Tomorrow he will come back with a dissatisfied look on his face and order coffee. 

"Dahae, you've had a hard day! We only have to work tomorrow and then it's our weekend."

"You had a hard day too, I only did the easy stuff today, have a good night!"

"Where are you going now?"

"I'm going to have lunch and help my parents with the shop."

It's not all bitches in the world. Bitches that need to be killed and beaten. 

There are people who deserve to be torn limb from limb, but there are also people who are warm and innocent like Dahae.

 For some reason, looking at her makes me feel strangely guilty and wistful. 

After passing through the familiar hustle and bustle of Seoul, I arrived at the top of the kickboxing gym.

 The place is quiet after the school holidays. I'm pretty close to the manager, Hwang Chul-woo. 

He is one of the few people I can rely on.

"Jung Min, are you ready for today?"

"Yes. After sparring today, we'll go out and work out, right?"

"Yeah, I'm going to work on your fitness there, and my brother has a fight next week, so I need to make sure he's in shape."

"You're not going to work today, are you?"

"Yeah, it's my courier's day off." 

And then he starts to sweat. 

He jumps rope and hits the bag to warm up, and when the officials arrive, they check some of his postures. 

JUNG HUN 

Woojin 

'Junho' 

'Minjoon' 

They mark four people almost exclusively. 

He wipes away the sweat and checks their posture. Woojin was especially close to him.

 He had been bullied so badly at school that he was a fool around words and his social skills were destroyed.

 But I liked his passion to train and do sports. 

So I got closer to him. After about five hours of training, Hwang Chul-woo said. 

"You shouldn't fight your brother yet."

"You're really good, a black belt in jiu-jitsu is different."

"Dude, you just need to train for a few years. You were a complete wanker at first, but now you're a man."

"It's all like that. The moment you think your qualities are fixed, life is hell."

"That's the biggest motivation for suicide, do you understand?"

Hwang Chul-woo was definitely a good older brother. He wasn't rich, but he was a warm brother with his own opinions and teachings. 

We had a light dinner and then headed to the back mountains, and what may have been training for him was purposeful for me.

 We spend two hours doing exercises like pull-downs, quick backs, planks, side lunges, and shoulder presses. 

Sweat dripping like gravy in the fanless environment, my body exhausted, but I still had one more thing to do, I said.

"I'm supposed to meet a friend here, so you should go downstairs first."

"Now? You're meeting someone after working out like this?"

"You got a girlfriend?"

With that, I send him downstairs and look at the time: 10:15. Sure enough, right on cue, a couple are heading up the mountain. 

I follow them a little way, tipping my hat down low. 

The motherfucker in grey Adidas trainers and black spider short sleeves walks deeper into the woods with an underage kid in tow. 

I'm almost a terrorist in their company. 

"Thump! 

I lunge at the man and bump into him, and he stumbles forward, disgraced. The woman screams.

"I'm sorry, I was exercising, I was listening to music with my eyes closed and the road was dark."

The guy, who is a corpse except for Gao, swears at me.

"Just, fuck off, you bum."

I called out to him in my mind. He replied.

"Yes, thank you, Mr President. Have a nice day."

And then I sped off down the hill. 

It was dark, so they probably didn't even recognise me. 

Still, there's no time for complacency. I descend at a faster pace than anyone else. 

The air is strangely snotty. People forget their actions so easily. 

They say that memory is an old baggage, that useless beliefs weigh you down if you hold on to them.

 How can you let the memories of every day dominate and haunt you? 

So let me ask you again. Have you ever prayed for an ant you killed in your childhood playground? 

If something you wrote thoughtlessly motivated someone to commit suicide, is that a burdensome memory? 

That's a clear wrong. 

Wrongs can only be forgotten by reflection. 

A wrong is a wrong. There is no reason to interpret it differently and no reason to forget it.