Bailonz Street 13

Chapter 172. Return (1)

In an instant, all the winds reversed direction and began pulling me inside that door. Just as my body stumbled through the doorway, I felt something tugging at me.

When I managed to turn my head, I saw Jane Osmond’s body collapsing like a puppet with cut strings. I also caught sight of Liam catching her before she fell off the cliff. He was shouting something at me, but I couldn’t hear a thing. It was like… how should I put it? Like someone shouting in the vacuum of space. Only silence remained, swallowing even my own voice.

I had now completely crossed through the door. I could go home. That thought kept running through my mind over and over.

That’s when it happened.

“…!!!”

A horrific sensation overtook me. This must be what it feels like to be crushed under dozens of tons of metal.

Someone was thinking of me. Like passing through the deep sea, I felt as if the pressure difference would crush my body. Was I being crushed? Or was I about to burst? It was hard to tell the difference. I thrashed around, trying to resist that agonizing sensation.

I couldn’t even scream. It felt like each joint was being dislocated and reassembled.

I had been excited about going home, but what was this? Someone must be mincing me with a fork. Even when I screamed, nothing could be heard. Any sound that managed to escape my throat was immediately erased into nothingness.

Tears streamed down my face unbidden.

‘My wretched life, how did it end up like this?’

After what felt like an eternity, light gradually began to approach. The darkness was no longer absolute.

My lungs, which had been completely compressed, finally returned to their original size.

“Huurk!”

I shot up like someone rescued from drowning. I coughed desperately, trying to expel water that didn’t even exist.

Only after the burning in my throat began to subside did my body start breathing normally again.

The pain in my limbs had disappeared. Muscles twitched back to life one by one. My muffled hearing returned. My heart was beating.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

I could see my hands clutching the bed covers.

‘I’m alive.’

I slowly closed and opened my eyes. Piercing sunlight was pouring down on my face. I could see the window, and through the half-open pane came the loud noise of passing cars. The sounds of civilization.

A fan whirred and rattled nearby.

I could only mutter in a daze.

“This is my home.”

It feels strange. My only homes should be this place and my family’s house. But my experience in 19th century London had changed what the word “home” meant to me. Now my only home was 13 Bailonz Street, where I lived with Liam Moore.

“Liam…”

A place that wasn’t the home I shared with him. A place with refrigerators, computers, and all sorts of machines within arm’s reach. Why did it feel so foreign? It was like looking at your house after returning from a long trip abroad.

I managed to prop myself up with my arms. Black hair cascaded down. My hair, my body.

It was a bed. Summer heat radiated through the window. This really was South Korea. The summer of my country, where the days are scorching hot and the nights are humid and sweltering enough to drive people mad.

“Ah, yes…”

Though the pain from squeezing through the cracks between worlds prevented me from celebrating too much, I was still tearfully happy. If my body had been in better shape, I would have been jumping and rolling around in joy.

I reached out and picked up my phone. The scratched and worn device showed today’s date: July 5th. There was one missed call from Mom. I somewhat clumsily dialed back.

Mom picked up after a few rings.

―Hello? Hee-in?

My name. My ‘real’ name, not Jane Osmond.

“…Yeah…”

Mom’s voice. Her worried tone came through the speaker.

For some reason, I couldn’t speak. Was it because all the hardships were coming back to me one by one? My throat tightened and I felt like crying. How many people in the world love you unconditionally? Mom’s concern brings me to tears. After a long moment, I finally managed to speak.

“Mom.”

The funny thing is, mothers always easily notice changes in their children. I tried to act like nothing was wrong, tried to sound bright like I used to, but my sharp-eyed mom seemed to notice something was off.

―Hee-in. Did something happen? Why does your voice sound like that?

I thought I’d done a pretty good job of pretending to be fine. I hurriedly made an excuse, desperately hoping this attempt would sound more convincing than the last.

“No… Nothing happened. I just got emotional hearing your voice, that’s all.”

―Where’s the Jung Hee-in who used to say ‘I can live just fine on my own!’? Really, if you were going to be like this, you should have just gone to a school closer to home like I suggested.

“Oh come on, Mom. Private universities and national universities have completely different tuition fees…”

After a moment of silence, Mom asked again.

―Are you sure nothing’s wrong? Your voice sounds terrible. Did you break up with your boyfriend?

For a moment, I thought ‘Who was that again?’ Did I even have someone like that? It couldn’t be Liam she was talking about. When I wracked my brain, something vague surfaced. I couldn’t quite remember his face. Just… a general impression, maybe. But when did I even date him?

After desperately searching my memories, I managed to recall something to say.

“Mom. I broke up with him in freshman year. I’m a junior now.”

―Then did you get fired from your part-time job? Were you unfriendly to customers?

“Mom!”

What kind of image does she have of me? Even Liam wouldn’t worry about things like this.

I burst out laughing in disbelief. Mom’s voice finally softened a bit.

―Tell me if anything’s wrong. Can’t your mom and dad take care of their only child? We’ve fed and clothed and raised you for over twenty years, we can keep taking care of you until you’re forty.

It was amazing how easily she could say she’d still take care of her grown daughter. The unconditional affection brought tears to my eyes again. My nose stung, and I quickly coughed a few times. My increasingly hoarse voice helped sell the act.

“No, it’s nothing. I think I just caught a cold. They say even dogs catch summer colds. I just called because I was thinking about you, that’s all.”

―Have you been to the doctor?

“I’m about to go.”

―Alright. Make sure you eat something, whether it’s rice or porridge. Don’t skip meals just because you have no appetite. You’ll ruin your stomach.

“Mm-hmm.”

―Call if you miss us. Come visit sometimes too.

“Okay.”

The call ended soon after. A slightly humid breeze tickled my cheek.

During our conversation, my body had fully awakened. The stiffness had dulled, and the shooting pain in my head and neck had subsided. I was adapting to this air. Like a body adjusting to pressure.

I slowly got up from the bed and went to the mirror.

Black eyes. Black hair. A slightly pale face with flushed cheeks looked back at me. I must be sick after all. Were the aftereffects showing up belatedly? Still, I could finally say it.

“This is my face…”

It was my face. The face of an Asian woman who looked nothing like Jane Osmond. Instead of her friendly features, it was a somewhat stern-looking face.

I stood there for a long while in my stretched-out summer t-shirt. Touching my face all over like a madwoman.

It was fortunate this was my home. If I had come to my senses in the middle of the street, I would have been hauled away as a crazy person immediately.

“My face.”

I repeated those words over and over.

I am Jung Hee-in. I’m Korean, and I like violin, travel, and the sea. I dislike spicy and overly seasoned food, and expensive but poor quality items. My family consists of my parents and me. I’m an only child. It’s now summer break of my junior year. I started playing a game and fell into a strange place, and finally made it back.

Ah.

The game.

My eyes suddenly darted to the computer. The screen saver was flickering.

I instinctively reached out to unlock the computer. The open screen appeared.

“PUNK…”

It was the PUNK client. I checked the list of games I had downloaded, looking for <Misty London>.

“M… M…”

But to my surprise, there was no game called <Misty London> anywhere on my computer or in my account. Had the name changed in the meantime? Or had it gone back to pre-release?

I even searched the PUNK community, but there wasn’t a single post about <Misty London>. As if such a game had never existed in the first place.