985 Episode 59 What Kind of Ending (6)

Wukong silently gazed up at the sky, then abruptly spat out a curse.

"Fuck."

In the world he originally inhabited, such language would have been filtered out. It was all because of that damned Archangel. Due to her strict system of 'correct and beautiful speech', all constellations influenced by <Kim Dokja Company> were subject to forced censorship.

But now, that was all history. The Archangel had chosen a different 'portal' and departed for another world.

The Archangel had asked Wukong, the only constellation who made a different choice.

When he answered, she pressed him: 'You know Kim Dokja well. The Kim Dokja we know will not exist in the worldline you have chosen. If he insisted on offering two choices, there must be a reason.'

Wukong knew that. He had been watching Kim Dokja's story longer than almost anyone.

The Archangel was right. The world he chose might not hold the 'Youngest' he remembered. Nevertheless, Wukong chose this 'ending'. The reason was simple.

Upon hearing his answer, the Archangel gazed at him with sorrowful eyes before slowly nodding.

Both stars knew they likely never would. They would never again giggle over the same story. They would never share their rage or their joy. They would never compete for sponsorship or send indirect messages bickering with one another.

They prayed for each other's stories, hoping they would reach the endings they desired in the worlds they chose.

Today, Wukong found himself curious about the ending the Archangel had chosen. What was happening there right now? Once, out of sheer curiosity, he had tried to peek into that world. A problem arose immediately, so he stopped, but...

"Welcome."

As he pushed open the convenience store door, the clerk's mechanical greeting rang out.

Wukong nodded slightly and headed to the beverage section. He picked up a bottle of soju, considered it, then put it back. Alcohol from the human world couldn't even get him tipsy. Wukong hated <Emperor>, but he missed the celestial wine he used to steal from the heavens. Especially on days like today, when he desperately wanted to get drunk.

"Even so... if you have absolutely no experience..."

The interviewer at the security firm pushed his glasses up his nose, looking utterly perplexed.

"You need at least a minimum amount of relevant history to perform security duties."

Who dares lecture the Great Sage on 'security experience'? Wukong, feeling deeply offended, frowned and snapped.

"I have experience."

No bodyguard in the history of the universe had performed a more grueling escort mission.

"I protected a Buddhist monk all the way to India. Have you not heard of it?"

His 'Journey to the West' was one of the most famous stories in the Star Stream. Of course, the interviewer, who had no way of knowing this, looked at him as if he were insane and scribbled something on his notepad.

"What do you consider your greatest strength?"

Strength. What was his strength?

It was the first time he had been asked such a question in this context. Wukong pondered the stories of his life. After a long silence, he answered.

"I am confident in combat."

Fighting. If asked to name the strongest stars in the universe, he would easily make the top five. The only thing he might be wary of was that black bastard—the one wielding the power of the 'Oldest Liberator', an authority that transcended even myths.

"Fighting..."

The interviewer, unfamiliar with the concept of Myth-grade constellations, looked displeased.

"What do you think 'security' is?"

"It is protection."

"And how do you protect something?"

"Simple. You eliminate the threat."

The interviewer shook his head.

"No."

"What?"

"That is not protection."

"Then?"

"True security begins with acknowledging the impossible."

Wukong was momentarily taken aback by the philosophical weight of the answer.

"What do you mean? If you give up from the start, you cannot protect anything."

"It isn't giving up."

The interviewer continued, as if lecturing a student.

"There are accidents in this world that human power cannot prevent. If a building suddenly collapses, how will you protect your client?"

"I would simply destroy the collapsing debris."

"What if the vehicle you are in is rear-ended by a truck?"

"I would grab the client and jump out."

"What if a missile falls from the sky?"

"That..."

That was beyond the scope of a bodyguard. Just as he was thinking the interviewer was being unreasonable, the man smiled meaningfully.

"Interesting. How far are you willing to go to prevent the inevitable?"

"What?"

"You failed the interview. Go home and guard your house."

That was the end of it. He wondered what to tell Hyunsung, who had pulled strings to get him this interview. But since Hyunsung had already been fired from this same company, perhaps the problem wasn't them, but the company itself.

"Security."

He chuckled to himself. In truth, he was performing security every day. He was doing it right now.

"Youngest! Hyung is home!"

Wukong shouted as he entered the hallway and rang the doorbell.

But there was no answer. It was strange. The youngest should have been home.

After pacing for a moment, Wukong grabbed the doorknob, then thought better of it and dialed a number.

"Heewon-ah."

—Why are you calling?

"What was the passcode for the door?"

A deep sigh came from the other end.

—What? You don't even remember the youngest's birthday?

"Of course I know his birthday."

—Right. There's no way a freeloader like you would memorize something important.

He wanted to snap back, but her words were too accurate to refute.

—How did the interview go?

Beep. Beep. Wukong punched in the familiar date.

"I failed."

—I knew it.

"Listen to me. This time, it really could have worked out."

—You're ridiculous. I'm hanging up.

"No, really, listen. I think that interviewer was—"

The door clicked open. Wukong stopped speaking.

The air inside the house felt wrong. Subtly, terrifyingly wrong. He saw a delivery box sitting open in the entryway. There was no tracking number on it.

Ignoring Heewon's voice pecking at him through the phone, Wukong scanned the house.

No. It couldn't be. A single moment of carelessness couldn't lead to this.

"Heewon-ah."

He raised his senses, sniffing the air. There was no mistaking it. All his instincts pointed to a single, devastating truth.

"Come home. Right now."

The object of his guard had vanished.

An hour later, the three of them were gathered in the living room. In the suffocating silence, Heewon spoke first.

"Didn't he just go out for some fresh air?"

"If that were the case, would I have called you?"

"I mean, maybe he just went to the store. If we make a fuss and he walks in, I'm going to kill you, seriously."

"This doesn't feel right. Something has happened to the youngest."

"I get it, you're protective. But he's twenty-eight. No, technically, he's even older than that..."

"Twenty-eight is practically a baby."

"That's just based on your perception of time—"

Hyunsung intervened, stepping between them.

"Both of you, calm down. First, look at this."

"What is it?"

"I installed it a while ago, just in case."

Hyunsung held up his smartphone. On the screen was a live feed of the living room. He had installed a hidden home cam above the television.

"What? When did you put that there?"

"When Dokja-ssi was absent the other day. I only put them in the living room and his bedroom."

If Kim Dokja had heard this, he would have launched a lecture about human rights and privacy. But none of the three cared about that right now. Their only interest was his safety.

"Rewind it. Quickly."

Hyunsung scrolled back the timeline.

Someone rang the doorbell. Kim Dokja hesitated, then opened the door. He stepped out, returned with a box, and took out a book.

『Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint』.

The three of them exchanged horrified glances as they confirmed the title on the screen.

"What on earth..."

Who had delivered that book? More importantly, how could that 'story' exist within this 'world'?

Wukong, staring intently at the screen, spoke grimly.

"Something similar happened before."

Once, the youngest had downloaded an unknown app on his phone. Through that app, he had begun reading the novel. Fortunately, Hyunsung had discovered it and engaged the child lock, and Heewon had struck the back of his head to reset his memory.

"The youngest must not read that story."

When Wukong spoke, the other two nodded in unison.

For reasons they didn't fully understand, the Kim Dokja of this world had sealed his memories deep within his subconscious. The three believed this was his will, and they had decided to respect—and enforce—it. It was tragic that he couldn't remember them, but if he had chosen this ending, there must have been a reason.

"Where is he now? You installed a tracker, didn't you?"

"The GPS is off."

Hyunsung's voice cracked. Heewon slumped onto the sofa, clutching her forehead as dizziness washed over her.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just... a headache. It's been lingering since yesterday."

Her words carried a strange weight. Sensing the shifting atmosphere, Wukong narrowed his eyes.

"Someone has interfered with this world."

Heewon closed her eyes, leaning her head back.

"Should we report it to the police?"

Wukong shook his head.

"We won't find him that way."

This world was a small theme park created by Kim Dokja's subconscious. A world constructed from his desire to live in a big house with his companions.

"You know this better than anyone. This reality operates on the youngest's imagination."

Kim Dokja didn't know it, but he was the one sustaining this world. If he truly wanted to hide, they would never find him.

Hyunsung's face darkened.

"Then what do we do? If something happens to Dokja-ssi..."

"It's not hopeless. We have a clue."

Heewon opened her eyes. Hyunsung looked up from the screen.

Wukong continued.

"If the youngest really read 'that story'..."

There was only one book in the box.

"There is only one place he would go."

At Wukong's words, Heewon stood up abruptly.

"Let's go."

The destination was clear.

And...

Kim Dokja would be there.