Chapter Text
ii.
Having, somehow, survived the scenario that had killed him all those times before, it would have been a shame if this man—his soulmate—ended up dying after all because he accidentally stepped off the bridge.
That’s Joonghyuk’s reasoning, anyway, when he grabs hold of the man’s collar the moment he starts backing away. Instinctively, he struggles, but Joonghyuk keeps his grip firm, unrelenting. He keeps one eye on hand with the knife, on the thin line of red string that loops between them. He won’t let him do anything foolish.
How are you still alive?
He should ask this. The world has not stopped ending and one of the most useful incarnations that he had been meaning to recruit to his party once again now lies dead as a doornail on the bridge to Oksu station. Only Lee Hyunsung and Kim Namwoon were supposed to survive. Now Namwoon is dead, and several other people are alive in his stead. This changes too many things, upsets countless of his already planned and calculated paths. He needs information.
But in that moment there is only one thing he really wants to know.
“Name?”
“What?” his soulmate blinks, eyes dark and wide.
“What is your name?” he tries again, impatient.
“Kim Dokja.”
Kim Dokja.
Kim Dokja.
Kim Dokja.
He wants to feel the sound of it in his mouth. “What a strange name.”
“I get that a lot,” Kim Dokja huffs, a half-laugh, a half wheeze for air—but there’s no panic there. He is calm. Unnaturally so. Especially for a man who, by all evidence, has just become a killer. And yet, there is a wariness behind his stare that only surfaces… when he looks at Joonghyuk.
He’s infuriating.
Does the cut on your face sting?
“How did you survive?”
“Are you going to let go of me?”
Are you going to disappear if I do? “No.”
Kim Dokja breathes. The warm skin of his neck moves against the knuckles of Joonghyuk’s hand holding him in place. “I just think we could have a more efficient conversation if we’re both standing upright.”
He’s so infuriating he could punch him. “It will be efficient enough if you start answering my questions.”
“Shouldn’t you be more respectful? I’m older than you, you know…” Kim Dokja smirks, “…pro-gamer Yoo Joonghyuk.”
His grip tightens.
He hadn’t considered that he could also be dangerous.
-
Soon enough, he learns that Kim Dokja is many things.
Capable of efficient conversation is apparently one of them. Clever is another—perhaps a little too clever. He talks about working for a gaming company, about how he recognises Joonghyuk because he’s a fan. He explains the explosion on the subway, the very same Joonghyuk is responsible for causing… and the kid with the box of grasshoppers. Clearing the scenario by killing insects… a stroke of luck, perhaps. Anyone could have thought of it, but while under that amount of stress?
The future has changed.
Like with all his other turns, Joonghyuk’s own actions are likely the cause of it.
And yet. Something is not right.
His soulmate is too knowledgeable. An anomaly. He is dangerous.
“Yoo Joonghyuk. I know the future that you don’t know.”
This round will be completely different—because of him.
And yet, there’s only one thing that truly bothers him:
Prophet. Future sights. A skill that blocks even the Sage’s Eye. None of these are things he can be sure of. But there is one thing he can’t help but notice.
For all that Kim Dokja talks and eludes him, not once does he look down at the thread binding them—the one Joonghyuk can barely keep his eyes off.
Like he doesn’t even know it’s there.
-
Is it a trick?
Well. There might be a way to find out.
-
By now, four turns into this hell, Joonghyuk knows that things are never so simple. His supposed soulmate—who still has not once alluded to the excruciatingly obvious evidence of their circumstances—might have survived the first of the scenarios… but there are still many left.
Luck and smarts can only get you so far. In the fallen world, only strength will keep you alive in the end.
Joonghyuk has lived through his soulmate’s death many times already.
He’s lived through losing far more.
He can do it again. But not if he allows himself to get close.
At least, that is his reasoning after he goes through with his test, dropping the cursing Kim Dokja from the bridge and into the gaping maw of an ichthyosaur, watching its jaws close around the thin red thread between them before diving back into the river.
He watches for a long while, until the monster has swum so far away that the red thread of fate almost fades. But in the end, he turns and leaves.
After all, the most accurate indicator for Kim Dokja’s success will always be with him.
Right there, around his finger.