First published: June 19th, 2023

It's been more than twenty years since Kang Jae-seong has gnawed his fingernails to the base - the last time, he was forced to join the army instead of the university beyond his dreams. His lawyer parents had to discover the film posters stuffed under his mattress.

No, that's not the last time. It was then six months later, when he surprisingly enlisted in the Special Forces Division and not the Logistics Division. He couldn't even shoot a dummy with a simple firearm, let alone a potential terrorist with a 6 pound rifle.

But gosh, Jae-seong wishes to return to that hellhole. Because what he's just heard is way worse.

Na Eun-kyung is out. That ruthless monster.

The fearsome Special Forces would protect him from her, right?

White as a dove and quivering as if stuck in a thorny cage, Kang Jae-seong crouches near the corner of the wide hallway, hunched behind the flashy poster of Any troubles? Fear not. Call the Yongsan Police ASAP! The day of Eun-kyung's arrest flashes in his mind; a few days after Damned Doomsday. Jae-seong can never forget the bloody blade in her hands.

It's carved edge was centimeters away from his abdomen.

Jae-seong continues to gnaw at his nails, while taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves. His gaze rests on the two distant detectives, one of them being no doubt his 'nerdy' classmate. Young-ja's not a changed a bit, very short and still submissive to her seniors. But when he heard her yell while arriving at this filthy station, that's when he was taken aback.

Now he knows her reason. But how did that beast get released in the first place? She's a lifer!

"Hyung?"

Jae-seong halts his nibbling, sighing when he sees them bleeding. "Seriously?" He blinks when he hears the young man's voice again.

"Hyung!"

This reminds him: it's time for the glorious comeback of superstar Kang Jae-seong. And this naive young man will help him do just that.

But when Jae-seong glances over his shoulder, the breeze of the empty corridor greets him. Squinting, he inspects the corridor's snaky deviations. It's eerily dark on a Friday afternoon.

"Sae-beom?"

Spinning a 360, Jae-seong flinches when he sees the two detectives gone. "They were right there..." Running a sickly arm through his silky caramel hair, Jae-seong searches the corridor from end to end. Why has it become so cold all of a sudden?

"She was muttering something just now. Ya, Kim Young-ja-"

His eyes slam shut without warning. And, he can't open them by will. "What? Open-"

"KANG JAE-SEONG!"

Jae-seong finally manages to open his eyes, of course after stumbling on something very hard. The gravelly voice's pierced his eardrums.

Moving his drowsy head around, he catches a glimpse of  tattered blue posters stuck on the wall. Turns out, he's landed on a wide bench- wait. What just happened? There was no bench before.

Black clouds wafting through his vision, Jae-seong peers at his surroundings. "Where...what?"

"He's awake!" This voice definitely belongs to Sae-beom. Finally, that rookie's here. But what's he doing in this bright room? It takes a moment for Jae-seong to come to his senses.

It was all just a dream. He's still in the station, judging by the shabby stack of shelves surrounding him. And what he's heard back there, it can't have happened. Right?

"Jae-seong, are you alright?"

Feeling a soft pat on his shoulder, Jae-seong comes face to face with a bald man. His wizened eyes are crinkled in concern. His manager. Now Sae-beom's manager too.

Forget Eun-kyung. This is an actual life-or-death crisis.

Jae-seong jerks while getting up, propping himself on the bench. There's nobody in the Complaints Office except for Sae-beom and his manager.

"I'm..." Jae-seong trails off. He can't be alright. At least not now. "I'm not alright." He glances up at Sae-bom, the young actor with no sense of style whatsoever. "Not after what he's done."

"Hyung, I'm sorry. But I didn't do it," Sae-beom pleads, constantly rubbing his sides. "I didn't break your Rolex."

"My foot," Jae-seong snaps, getting up with a groan. Why does his head hurt so bad? "And when did we become so close for you to call me Hyung?"

"Sorry, seonbae," Sae-beom replies, his eyes brimming with tears. He watches Jae-seong trudge his way to the main desk of the Complaints office, a brown mahogany amidst the towering green cabinets. "Seonbae, I'm not lying. I didn't even know your Rolex was missing for two days."

"Yeah sure," Jae-seong mutters, looking around. Where did his duffel bag go? His Rolex and the USB containing the night of the theft are in that.

"Jae-seong," the manager calls, his gravelly voice now smooth. "Let's go back to the company and settle it there."

Jae-seong flinches when he sees the bald manager standing right behind him. Like, when did his heavy gait become silent? Brushing his hair to the side while taking in a cautious breath, Jae-seong glances at him.

"No, Manager Han. I can't let this slide anymore. Also, it's unfair that you're siding with Sae-"

"Kang Jae-seong!"

His right hand clenches into a fist when his name is called. "What?" he says, irritated. He sulks as he turns around. Not that he hates being called, he is almost done with Act 1.

His scowl disappears when he sees a detective enter the office, the Prussian polo shirt - upon which his dangling police badge rests on - barely covering his beer belly. He's surprisingly tall and a bit younger than when he last saw him. It's that detective, Jae-seong realizes. Young-ja's seonbae.

So the dream...was it real? A restricted grin pans out on his lips.

"It's so great to see you here," Detective Kwak Nam-il says with his widest though crooked smile. He nudges the beige cap on his head.

Jae-seong catches a glimpse of it. It's the same cap that he himself wore while being NIS' top ghost agent, Mercule Doirat.

He plops down on the seat nearest to him, heaving out a sigh. As funny as it sounds, the Korean-American spy's the only lead role he's got in fifteen years. Fricking fifteen!

He bets his parents will be laughing non-stop at him, while seated in the lavish couches of their law firm. 

Detective Kwak manages to skip a step as he approaches Jae-seong. Young-ja has never mentioned him, even though they are from the same high school. He would have been better prepared if he knew his favorite actor was coming to his police station today.

Jae-seong slightly bows his head and turns to face the desk, when Detective Kwak offers his hand for a shake. The old detective has certainly bummed him out.

"Ha ha," the detective snorts, clasping his hands. His gaze falls on the teary-eyed newbie. "You're Mr. Yoon Sae-beom? From SKG Entertainment?"

"Yes," Manager Han answers, placing a hand in front of Sae-beom who's about to answer. "Detective, we just have to sort out a misunderstanding."

"Really?" Detective Kwak glances at Jae-seong with a small grin before saying," We've examined the evidence. And boy, you're in trouble."

Sae-beom muffles his whimper by cupping his hands over his mouth.

Jae-seong on the other hand flits his gaze to the detective. "Evidence? You mean my Rolex and the USB?"

"Yes," Kwak answers. "You had submitted them earlier."

"I did?" He clearly doesn't remember what happened.

"Excuse me, Detective," Manager Han interrupts, stepping forward. "May we have a private moment? I'm Jae-seong's manager too."

Jae-seong would've protested upon hearing this blasphemy. But instead he finds himself getting up and following his traitor of a manager to one of the dingy corners of the office. His head's never been this boggled before, even when he had to cram for the Civil Service exam. What has actually happened when he arrived here at the police station this morning?

"Jae-seong," the manager whispers. "What do you want?"

He snaps out of his daze; he can sort it all out later. "Um, what were you saying-"

"Oh," Kwak says, eyes squinted as he takes a few steps forward. "How did these crows end up here?"

"Crows? Where?" Jae-swong responds, turning back. He hates birds, especially those in black. A strong grip on his arm makes him stop.

"What do you want, Jae-seong?"

Jae-seong snatches his arm away, brushing the wrinkles off his beige overcoat sleeve. The overcoat's more expensive than the Rolex he brought today. All he finds in the manager's black eyes is desperation. That's the only thing he needs.

"The role," he whispers, peeling the tattered ends of a fading National Police Agency poster. "The lead role in The Last Game."

Manager Han clears his throat, whispering, "You want to do a horror-thriller?"

"What?" Jae-seong asks, earning a concerned glance from Detective Kwak. The latter's at the other side of the room now. "You think I can't do it?"

"It's not that," Manager Han whispers. "The role's a twenty-six-year-old detective... you're going to be forty soon."

"Hey, I still look thirty," Jae-seong replies, running a hand through his hair. Why do his fingers sting? "Just make me the main lead."

Manager Han rubs the back of his neck. "But it's Sae-beom's role."

"Exactly," Jae-seong replies. "It's much easier to switch." He catches a glimpse of his fingernails through his peripheral vision. Why are his nails chipped off to the base?

Manager Han sighs. He glances at a silent Sae-beom who stares at the sole window of this office. The rookie taps his foot agitatedly, his face as pale as the walls of this office.

Jae-seong tucks his hands in his overcoat pocket. Almost there, just the finale. "Well, what's taking so long? I can lodge a complaint for trespassing, theft and damage."

Manager Han flits his gaze to the veteran actor. "You think you're the only one who can do this?"

Jae-seong crinkles his forehead, "What? What do you have? I've not done anything-"

A bloodcurdling caw whips through the air.

"Bad," he blurts out. He turns around. It....can't.... This can't be happening.

But when he looks at the birds Detective Kwak is trying to shoo toward the window, Jae-seong flinches, banging his back on the wall.

"JESUS CHRIST!"

Everything goes blurry in an instant. Muffled except the coo of not one but two magbots perched on top of a cabinet. Run. He finds himself stumbling out of the office, batting away any pulls. Run!

Heart rate jumping off the roof, Jae-seong rushes across the hallway of Yongsan Police Station, pushing anyone and everyone in his way. The magbots are here! The MAGBOTS!

"Kim Young-ja!" Jae-seong shouts, looking everywhere as he nears the exit.

The dream is real. He did see his old classmate after submitting his fake Rolex and the fabricated evidence to the police.

Now only she can save him.

Because he has no hell of an idea of what he's supposed to do. Flashes of Damned Doomsday cloud his mind.

Jae-seong stops, collapsing on the foot of the entrance staircase. He can't run anymore.

The blue sky's gloomy now, black clouds blocking the rays of the mighty April sun. For a magbot is just a few feet away from him.

"I-I d-didn't d-do an-anyth-thing," an agape Jae-seong stammers, gaze on the magbot while trying to regain his normal breathing place. He knows he's going to explode, either from the magbot or his wheezing. Where in the hell is Young-ja?

Jae-seong stares at the pixelated black coat of the bird; he can never look at the creature's blood-red eyes or its abnormally long beak. Not after it almost blinded him the last time.

Jae-seong grits his teeth when his phone abruptly rings, earning the horrid stare of the 23rd century killing machine. Who's calling now? Nabbing his phone out of his overcoat pocket, Jae-seong's gaze falls on the contact ID. It's his aunt who's calling. Why did she have to call him at this time?

But thanks to her, the magbot's gone. With no traces left behind.

Jae-seong looks around, shaky as he gets up. The magbot's seriously disappeared.

Marching out of the compound, Jae-seong picks up the call, relief flooding his pallid face. "I-Imo."

"Ah, Min-seok!" a hoarse but soothing voice answers. "I hope I didn't disturb you during your," she clears her throat for this, "Mutod Acting."

Jae-seong laughs. "Imo, it's called Method Acting."

"Whatever. Ah, I called to ask where we kept that ttukbaegi*. I want to cook Budae-jjigae* for the village festival tonight."

A smile rests on Jae-seong's lips, he's finally able to take in a deep breath. The magbot has disappeared, thanks to his aunt. Gosh, he has no idea of how he can live without his aunt. She's the only one who's been on his side these last twenty-three years.

And he doesn't want to know how the treacherous bot came here. It'll definitely not come back again, he hopes.

"Imo, I think we kept in in the store's attic..."

As Jae-seong trudges along the sidewalk, phone pressed to his ear while answering his aunt, he doesn't notice the other magbot digging its claws on the back of his thick overcoat.