1013 Episode 62 Snowfield Kim Dokja (3)

On the terrifyingly silent snowfield, Kim Dokja read the name over and over again.

Kim Dokja. As he muttered the name unconsciously, his father nodded.

"That is your name."

My name. Kim Dokja repeated the lingering resonance contained within that name time and time again. Then, the name, which had felt unfamiliar at first, gradually began to feel like his own.

Kim Dokja. That is his name.

"But isn't it possible to be recorded even if you aren't the protagonist?"

Kim Dokja said, looking up at the snow scattering in the air. A blizzard of fragments of snow stories raging in real time.

Some records were short, and some were long. Yet, they were all recorded there. Someone's misfortune, someone's sorrow, their joys and sorrows—they were all written evenly, without any bias.

Some stories were interesting, and others were boring, but nevertheless, the stories were fair to everyone.

That was the case until he heard his father's story.

"It is different."

Snow piled up again upon Kim Dokja's name. Watching the snow thickly cover the place, obscuring even the fact that a name existed there, his father rose from his seat.

"All these stories ultimately contribute to a single story."

"All these stories?"

"Yes."

It was unbelievable.

"Someone's sorrow, joy, passion, and hardship. Even life and death. They all exist to complete a single, perfect story."

"Is that the 'protagonist's' story?"

"Yes."

All this snow is falling for just one person.

"That is."

As he slowly closed his eyes, the falling snowflakes touched Kim Dokja's cheek.

"It is sweet."

The snowflakes were speaking. The protagonist's name is in all those stories. Every story exists to complete the protagonist's story.

To Kim Dokja, those words sounded as follows.

In the midst of that comforting realization, Kim Dokja suddenly opened his eyes. His father was looking somewhere with his back turned.

What could he be looking at? His father's back looked even smaller than usual. As he reached out and touched his back, a story that had flowed down from it landed on his fingertips. Kim Dokja read the story.

The figure in the story was not his father. Black hair. A man with a jet-black coat fluttering in the wind was there. A man who surveyed the world with his characteristically piercing gaze.

Kim Dokja stared blankly at his story and spoke.

"This person is..."

Father, noticing what story Kim Dokja was looking at, suddenly turned around. Then, snatching the story from Kim Dokja's hand, he said.

"It is the protagonist."

"There is another protagonist?"

Father paused for a moment, then nodded.

"Because that is a different 'story'."

The protagonist of another story.

Kim Dokja slowly blinked his eyes and recalled that man.

"He looked lonely."

His father gave no answer to Kim Dokja's words.

Eating the snow falling from the sky, Kim Dokja eventually came to be able to distinguish its taste. Which was sweet and which was bitter.

He also learned what was polite and which was rude (it was around this time that Kim Dokja began to use honorifics).

He also learned about good and evil and morality. These were all things taught by stories.

He grew up reading countless stories over and over again. In the process, he even developed a favorite.

Among them, the story Kim Dokja liked the most was—as expected, the story about him.

Watching the figure in the story call out to Kim Dokja, he felt an inexplicable emotion.

The story was damaged in many places, so the names of those calling him could not be read clearly. Nevertheless, they were clearly calling him and saying the exact same words.

"Why do these people always say it can't be done?"

"Because you have committed many acts you shouldn't have."

It felt somewhat infuriating. It was like being belatedly asked for a bill for a mistake long forgotten.

Kim Dokja read the passage where people called his name over and over again. Then he asked.

"But wasn't it all done for those people?"

"Do you think so?"

"In the end, it seems like I saved their lives."

In the story, Kim Dokja risked his own life time and time again to save the lives of others, not his own.

Nodding his head in agreement, his father said,

"From that perspective, you are right."

"Isn't that so?"

"Therefore, they must keep their heads down and thank you until they die."

"But why do these people seem to resent me?"

"Is it written that way?"

"No."

There was no description in any record that the group resented Kim Dokja. Nevertheless Kim Dokja felt that way. In the story, they were clearly resentful of him.

"That is a feeling that is very difficult for me to explain."

"Explain it to me. Father, you know everything."

"It’s not that I know everything. Especially when it comes to them."

<Kim Dokja Company>, that is what the story called them.

After thinking for a moment, Kim Dokja spoke again.

"These people, their group name is <Kim Dokja Company>, so why do they treat Kim Dokja so roughly?"

"…"

"It feels unfair. They only think about mistreating and restricting the person who went to such lengths to save them whenever they get the chance."

Father asked, admiring the idea as if it were incredibly fresh.

"Do you think that is unfair?"

"Yes. Because I am Kim Dokja, too. Kim Dokja should be the one to get angry about Kim Dokja's affairs!"

"In my opinion, that isn't 'that' unfair."

"Why? I even risked my life?"

"You were someone who liked risking your life."

After thinking for a moment, Kim Dokja shook his head as if to say that couldn't possibly be true.

"Where would you find someone like that?"

"That is exactly the problem."

"What?"

"Life is precious to everyone. Yet you risked it recklessly."

"It's my life, so what? I risked my own life to save them, so why—"

"They."

His father's squinting eyes parted slightly. Feeling his father's emotions seeping through the gaps, Kim Dokja listened to his father's words.

"Because they loved you."

Love. Kim Dokja stared blankly down at the story he had just read. He saw the Kim Dokja within the story and <Kim Dokja Company>.

Why? After hearing that word, every story he had read felt different.

Swallowing a slight tremor, Kim Dokja asked.

"What is love?"

His father fell into thought once again. Watching his father immerse himself in thought for quite a long time, Kim Dokja thought that perhaps his father didn't know what 'love' was.

"It means I like all your stories."

I like all your stories. Even with his father's explanation, Kim Dokja could hardly grasp the meaning of those words.

"Father, do you love me too?"

"No, I am just someone who uses you."

"Use? How?"

"I hope you grow up strong enough to fulfill my dream."

"What is your dream, Father?"

"To become the protagonist."

Kim Dokja stared blankly, his mouth agape.

"Is that true?"

"Yes, it is."

"Is Father perhaps a bad person?"

"I like your honest sentiment. Please continue to be that honest."

Kim Dokja continued reading the story. The story of Kim Dokja and <Kim Dokja Company>. 『Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint』.

"Does father appear in this story?"

"Yes, he does."

"Where?"

His father flipped through the story fragments he had been reading and pointed to a passage.

"Here."

Kim Dokja began to read the passage he had pointed to. It was a passage he had read before. However, it was a section he hadn't examined closely because he had read through it so quickly. His father was alive within the story of that passage.

"Was this father?"

When Kim Dokja asked back in disbelief, his father replied with a sour expression.

"Yes, it is."

"Wow, he appears really pathetic."

"Saying things like that in front of the person involved is bound to hurt them."

The father in the story was a villain. Not a great villain, but just a petty one. He was the ruler of a small station, and after inciting the people there, he was killed by Kim Dokja and his group.

"He died a very cruel death."

Watching Kim Dokja read the account of the death with such interest, his father asked.

"Do you feel sorry for your father?"

"I do."

Kim Dokja pondered the meaning of those words carefully before answering.

"A little bit."

"Then please avenge me."

"How do I do that?"

"Beat the people who killed me."

"You mean Kim Dokja and Kim Dokja Company?"

His father nodded.

"Don't you hate them? It is they who brutally killed me, and it is they who made you exist here in loneliness. In the end, it is all them."

Now, Kim Dokja knew what that meant. He had heard it all from his father.

That he was a part of 'Kim Dokja'. And that, as a result of <Kim Dokja Company> trying to reclaim him, he had been shattered into pieces and fallen into this snowfield.

"They even brutally killed your only father."

"Strictly speaking, that is the father from a different timeline."

"Don't you feel sorry for the version of me from that other timeline?"

"That is because the father from that other timeline did something wrong. And—"

Kim Dokja spoke, quietly tracing the scene of himself shattering into fragments with his hand.

"If it weren't for them, I wouldn't have even been born."

"… "

"Besides, I probably wouldn't even get to meet father."

At those words, his father smiled faintly and said,

"You're definitely not cut out to be a villain."

"Were you trying to make me a villain?"

"I intended to make you the protagonist."

"How can I become the protagonist?"

At that question, his father fell into deep thought once again. This time, it was truly deep thought. Watching his father's expression, Kim Dokja realized.

Perhaps it was because he was excited by the fact that he had asked a question his father didn't know for the first time. Kim Dokja let out a grunt and lay down on the floor. Feeling the cold snow gently envelop his entire body, Kim Dokja opened his mouth like a fool. A soft snowflake fell onto the tip of his tongue.

His father, who had been quietly looking down at Kim Dokja, also sat down beside him.

"Can't we just keep living like this?"

Savoring the endlessly falling snowflakes and the stories contained within them, Kim Dokja slowly blinked his eyes.

"Here, if you just open your mouth wide like this, food falls from the sky."

"That isn't meant to be eaten."

"But."

"This isn't a proper life either."

"If it isn't a proper life, does that mean we shouldn't live?"

"Such words are meaningful only when spoken by someone who knows what a proper life is."

At his father's words, Kim Dokja puffed out his cheeks and moved his limbs. As he did so, marks were left in the snow exactly in the shape of his small limbs.

"I'm really fine living here with just you and me, Father."

A long breath escaped his father's lips once again. The breath turned into small fragments of stories and scattered quietly.

"Are you glad you met me?"

"I like it."

"Even though your father is just a petty villain?"

"Not here."

"Aren't you unhappy?"

"Why would I be unhappy?"

"Because you are the son of a villain."

"It’s fine."

"You are unhappy."

"Why?"

"Because you don't realize that you are unhappy."

Kim Dokja tilted his head.

"I am not unhappy."

His father said nothing more. Perhaps because the silence felt awkward, Kim Dokja spoke.

"Tell me a little about yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"Just the story of your life."

It struck him anew that he had never once heard a proper story about his father.

"It’s a story of nothing special."

"That’s fine, though."

His father thought for a moment, then slowly began to speak.

"I lived my life with the goal of surpassing one man."

"Who is that?"

Perhaps because of the meaningful opening, Kim Dokja's heart pounded strangely. His father's lips slowly parted.

"The name of that man is."

Looking back long after, his father might have known it at that very moment. The moment he reveals that name, Kim Dokja will remember it forever.

"Yoo Joonghyuk."

And Kim Dokja, having learned that name, will one day inevitably—

"It is the Supreme King, Yoo Joonghyuk."

That he will want to go outside this 'snowfield'.