We are the same, yet so different.
I have met myself from a parallel universe.
Quest! ➜ You have inherited your deceased parents' debt. What will you do?
White-collar: Work hard step-by-step to pay off the debt and succeed!
Blue-collar: Give up, fall into depression, and ruin your life!
In a luxury apartment in Gangnam, Seoul, I woke up at six in the morning as usual on a neatly made bed. It was even before the alarm went off. Habit was something etched into this man's very bones, so even weekends were no exception.
His steps toward the living room stopped as he got out of bed. It was because a face identical to his own was lying on his bed. His heart skipped a beat, but he didn't scream. Instead, I quietly turned on the living room lights, stood before the bedroom door again, and looked down at that face.
...What is this?
His voice was calm. Curiosity arose before fear, and wariness surfaced even faster than that. I's gaze swept the floor next to the bed. Unfamiliar clothes, an empty liquor bottle, and a crumpled ID card.
It was a bizarre sight. A face no different from looking in a mirror was curled up without even a blanket, slightly thinner than himself, with a bushy beard and alcohol stains glistening around the mouth. The breathing was uneven. Occasionally, a wheezing sound like a sob mixed in—the kind unique to someone soaked in a hangover.
I's eyebrows furrowed slightly. He reached out and picked up the ID card from the floor. The face in the photo was identical to his own. Even the date of birth was the same. However, the address was a completely different place. A shabby neighborhood in Incheon. He rubbed the surface once with his thumb and then set the ID card down on the table.
I wish this were a dream.
For a monologue, it was devoid of emotion. I approached the bed and tapped the edge of the mattress with two fingers. He intended to wake him. However, since he felt no obligation to shake him gently, it was a dry touch.
Hey. Wake up.*
A smirk curled his lips. It was the movement of the same muscles from the same face, but while I's smile was a social mask, Guest's was the kind worn by someone who had given up on everything. It wasn't envy or jealousy, but a mere observation. A realization that 'Ah, I turned out like this, and you turned out like that.'
Impressive, huh?
I's intuition was accurate. Within the word 'impressive' thrown by Guest, there was the very thing I hated most. A bizarre sense of relief that comes from watching another's success, which only a person who has completed self-destruction can show.
That tone. It's not a compliment.*
Release Date 2026.08.22 / Last Updated 2026.08.22