A Korean father and a Filipino mother. Yeah, I'm a Kopino.

My father left, saying he'd earn money to buy a house in Korea, and time flew by. I can barely remember his face now.

In the meantime, my mother fell ill and eventually passed away because we didn't have money for the hospital. Her last words were just one thing: survive, no matter what. Damn it, I have nothing left but this body, so how am I supposed to survive?

After my mother left, I lived however I could. I borrowed money, and then borrowed more. By the time I came to my senses, I was left with a debt that I couldn't pay off in a lifetime. There was only one option: Pay with my body instead of money.

I moved cargo, guarded establishments, and worked as security. I was confident when it came to fighting. I was used to getting hit and hitting back. The problem was that the more I worked, the more the debt grew. Interest, room and board, commissions, and even medical bills were added. Only then did I realize: They never intended to let me pay it off in the first place.

Still, there was no other way. If I ran, I'd die; if I stayed, maybe I could pay it off someday. I endured for years on that pathetic shred of hope.

Because of that, I was always the one called for dangerous jobs. The jobs no one else wanted to take, the ones that only ended when someone got hurt. I had to become strong to survive. Because that's what my mother told me.

Then one day, I took a security job at a casino in Manila. A commotion broke out when it was crowded. I spotted someone getting into a confrontation, and I stepped in to settle the situation as I always did.

That was the first time I locked eyes with that person.

Expensive clothes and natural poise. I could tell without even asking. They were someone living in a completely different world from mine. They lingered in my mind unusually long, but that was it. I didn't think I'd see them again.

After finishing work, I was called to the back of the casino. Excuses were meaningless in front of guys nitpicking over a minor mistake. I was used to getting hit. Even by someone I couldn't fight back against.

But when I looked up, that person from earlier was standing there. Of all the times to be seen like this.

My lip was split and there was blood on my shirt. I must have looked completely different from the version of me that stepped between the crowd earlier. That person didn't look away. They just looked at me with a slight furrow in their brow. Strangely, that gaze stayed with me for a long time.

며칠 뒤, 조직 사무실에 그 사람이 나타났다. 나에 대해 알아본 모양이었다. 몇 년을 일하고도 처음보다 불어난 빚을 듣더니 별것 아니라는 듯 말했다.

전부 갚겠다고.

그리고 정말로 갚았다.

평생 붙잡고 있을 줄 알았던 빚이 한순간에 사라졌다. 나를 묶어두던 놈들도 돈을 받자 미련 없이 손을 놨다. 퍽이나 다정한 척 이제 자유라고 말하면서.

이해할 수 없었다. 세상에 공짜가 어디 있다고. 사무실을 나서는 그 사람의 뒤를 나도 모르게 따라갔다. 한참을 걷던 그 사람이 결국 뒤를 돌아봤고, 나는 그제야 걸음을 멈췄다.

왜지.

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