Chapter 43: Me? Why?

“No way.”

As the game progressed and they lost two consecutive dragons, Li Zhixuan’s suspicion turned into certainty. Something was wrong with Prisoner. Perhaps, his life was in grave danger.

[qq7785dd55 (Twisted Fate): jg are you okay?]

For the first time, Li Zhixuan, who normally refrained from chatting in-game, typed to reach out to Prisoner.

[Prisoner (Rek’Sai): okok no problem]

“No problem?” No, you’re not okay. Every move he made revealed that Prisoner was far from being in good health. Yet, what sent shivers down Li Zhixuan’s spine was the fact that Prisoner was still playing well.

“…Prisoner.”

Even without his usual sharpness, even without his previously impeccable game sense, even without his signature super plays, Prisoner steadily pushed toward victory. It was as though he were a monster, born to achieve nothing but victory. And so, Li Zhixuan wanted him even more.

The game continued. After a grueling battle with neither team giving an inch, they finally wiped out the enemy team.

“Finish it!”

At last, the enemy Nexus exploded, and the words Li Zhixuan longed to see appeared on the screen.

[Victory]

Although it was written in Korean and unreadable to him, its meaning was crystal clear. After a long and hard-fought game, they had secured victory. Despite the freezing cold outside, the heating in the accommodation was so effective that Li Zhixuan’s head was drenched in sweat. That’s how focused he had been on the game.

“…Good.”

Li Zhixuan, who was usually calm and composed, felt a rare sense of nervousness. Though he had spent his life standing above others, today, his heart raced like that of a shy teenager.

What should I say? Wait, do I even know Korean?

“Coach Jang Seokhwan!” Li Zhixuan called out urgently, knowing the coach must be lounging somewhere nearby. If Prisoner left the post-game lobby, it would be nearly impossible to talk to him again.

At that moment—

[Prisoner: 4390uwpt6yj 20i-5m=]w]

“Huh?” Prisoner typed something in the post-game lobby. Li Zhixuan, caught off guard, nervously read each character of Prisoner’s message.

What is this?

The message didn’t make any sense. It was a jumble of bizarre, nonsensical characters. Li Zhixuan’s mind swirled with confusion.

What does this mean? It wasn’t Chinese. It wasn’t Korean either. It couldn’t possibly be English. It didn’t seem like it held any special meaning—it looked like random keyboard mashing.

“Wait.”

Suddenly, an image flashed through Li Zhixuan’s mind. Prisoner, collapsing onto his keyboard right after the game ended.

“No way…” Li Zhixuan’s heart pounded furiously. He understood all too well what it could mean if Prisoner had collapsed.

[qq7785dd55: hey]

[qq7785dd55: you okay?]

No response. Even after waiting, there was no reply. A sense of foreboding began to creep in. It slithered through his thoughts like a snake, coiling tightly around him.

[qq7785dd55: prisoner?]

Still no response. The faint dread solidified into reality before Li Zhixuan’s eyes.

“No, this can’t be happening. No, no, no, no.”

Prisoner, dying? It couldn’t be. Prisoner wasn’t someone who should die in such a way. He was meant to aim for even greater heights alongside him. He had the talent and ability to do so.

[qq7785dd55: hey?]

[qq7785dd55: where are you?]

[qq7785dd55: I’ll come to you.]

Li Zhixuan had to find Prisoner. That thought consumed him as he immediately considered calling an ambulance.

“120, I need to call 120…” But what was Korea’s emergency number? Was it the same 120?

[“Hello, this is the Civil Services hotline…”]

That wasn’t it. Though Li Zhixuan didn’t understand Korean, the calm tone of the operator told him this wasn’t an emergency line. In the first place, his thinking had been wrong. He didn’t even know who Prisoner was or where he was located. How could he report this or get him help?

“No, no, no, no, no…”

For the first time in his life, Li Zhixuan felt the overwhelming weight of despair.

He couldn’t let Prisoner go like this. Prisoner still had so much to accomplish.

“Coach Jang Seokhwan!”

His cry, nearly a scream, jolted Coach Jang Seokhwan, who had been napping in his room. The coach hurried out, startled.

“What’s going on?”

“Prisoner… Prisoner is…”

“What about Prisoner? What happened?”

“He didn’t look okay, so I asked him, but he said he was fine. Then, right after the game ended, he went silent. I don’t know where he is, but I need to find him!”

Li Zhixuan, usually composed, was rambling incoherently, and Jang Seokhwan frowned deeply.

Though the details were unclear, one thing was certain—leaving Li Zhixuan in this state could lead to disaster.

“Calm down. I’ll handle it.”

Jang Seokhwan began assessing the situation.

Li Zhixuan was clearly distraught.

The post-game lobby was filled with strange messages.

Piecing it together, Jang Seokhwan understood what might have happened.

“Did Prisoner collapse?”

Prisoner was terminally ill. It wouldn’t be surprising if he suddenly collapsed.

Given Li Zhixuan’s obsession with Prisoner, it made sense that this situation had shaken him to his core.

“For now, I’ll call everyone I know. Maybe someone’s in contact with Prisoner.”

Although he said this to reassure Li Zhixuan, Jang Seokhwan doubted it would be effective. Given the circumstances of their last interaction with Prisoner, there were limited options.

“Still, it’s better than doing nothing.”

After all, this was a matter of life and death.

Calling emergency services was probably the right move, even if all they had to go on was a game ID and a phone number. Anything was better than standing idle.

While Jang Seokhwan frantically made calls, something unexpected happened.

Bang!

Li Zhixuan stormed out of the accommodation without even putting on a coat.

“Where are you going?!”

Jang Seokhwan chased after him, but by the time he reached the elevator, it had already left.

“Damn it…”

Li Zhixuan ran out into the cold streets.

It wasn’t a calculated move.

It wasn’t rational.

It was purely impulsive, driven by instinct.

He sprinted through the streets, searching aimlessly for Prisoner.

“Prisoner, Prisoner, Prisoner, Prisoner…”

He wandered, calling the name repeatedly.

“Where are you?!”

Despite not knowing where Prisoner was, he kept searching, his heart pounding with desperation.

The sensation of losing consciousness wasn’t unfamiliar.

But waking up afterward—now, that was always strange.

This time, the dim light of a bedside lamp greeted me. So did the worried face of my mother.

“Ugh…”

“Yoojin! Are you okay?”

The sudden loud voice made my head throb.

“…Where am I?”

“You’re home.”

Finally, the surroundings became clear.

At first, I assumed it was a hospital room, but it was my own bedroom.

“The doctor came by. He said it was probably because it’s your first time. I’m just glad it wasn’t anything serious. You scared me so much…”

“First time?”

First time for what?

And what’s “fortunate”?

Still groggy, my throat felt tight, making it hard to speak.

“I’ve raised kids before, but I never thought I’d be so lost for words.”

My mother coughed awkwardly, clearly unsure how to continue.

“Yoojin.”

“Yes?”

“Listen carefully, and don’t panic.”

“…Okay.”

What was she going to say?

Could it be… am I dying?

As my mind filled with chaotic thoughts, my mother finally spoke, her face a mix of determination and discomfort.

“The doctor said you’re fine, just a little anemic. You’ll be okay after some rest.”

“Okay.”

“So, uh… there’s something else…”

Even as she spoke, my mother hesitated, her unease apparent.

What could possibly make her so uncomfortable if I’m not dying?

“…You had your period.”

For a moment, my brain stopped working.

What did I just hear?

“…Huh?”

Having lived over twenty years as a man, the sudden mention of such a foreign word forced a single, bewildered question from my lips.

“Me? Why?”