The alarm rang at six in the morning, sharp and merciless.
Kim Haneul opened his eyes to the pale ceiling of his small apartment. The plaster had a faint crack running across it, one he had stared at countless times before. He lay still for a few moments, listening to the monotonous beeping.
Another day. Another morning. Another life that felt like it was already used up before it even began.
Haneul turned off the alarm and sat up. His room was neat but lifeless. A plain desk, a chair, a computer that whirred softly, and a half-empty cup of instant coffee left from last night. The curtains were gray, the bedsheets gray, even the morning light filtering through the window seemed gray.
He dressed in the same navy suit, the one that looked almost black after years of wear. He tightened his tie and stared at himself in the mirror.
A face that was neither handsome nor ugly stared back. Average. Forgettable. Just like the man himself.
"Work, eat, sleep. Work, eat, sleep." He muttered under his breath. His own voice sounded foreign in the silence.
Down on the street, cars rushed past. People in suits, people with tired eyes. He joined them like another pebble rolling in the stream, carried by the current of the city.
The office building loomed ahead. Twenty stories of glass, cold and sharp against the sky. Haneul walked through the doors, nodded at the security guard, and entered the elevator. He stood pressed between strangers, each one glued to their phones. No one spoke. No one looked at each other.
At his desk, Haneul opened his computer and began typing numbers into spreadsheets. His fingers moved, but his mind was empty. Hours passed in silence, broken only by the occasional ringing of a phone.
Lunch was a convenience-store sandwich eaten at his desk. Dinner would likely be instant noodles. He already knew the pattern. He already knew tomorrow would be the same.
Sometimes he wondered if he had ever chosen this life, or if he had simply drifted into it.
By the time the evening came, the sky outside the windows was dark. Haneul packed up his bag and walked out into the neon streets. The rain had begun to fall, blurring the lights into streaks of color.
He crossed the road, the traffic light glowing green.
And then—
The roar of an engine.
The scream of brakes.
Headlights rushing toward him.
For the first time in years, Kim Haneul's heart pounded with something real.
And then, darkness.