“Huuk!” The first thing Dokja saw was light pressing down on his eyes. Once he focused his blurry gaze three, four times, he finally saw the blinding warmth from the sun. Dokja gasped for air and curled his body from the cold that flooded in. He found that he was soaked with cold sweat.
“What….” He wiped away the sweat on his forehead, but he couldn’t stop his body from trembling. His mind wasn’t groggy, but clear. However, he couldn’t breathe from the intense emotions swirling inside him. He forced his body up and barely managed to lean against the uncomfortable bed of rocks. Immediately, the sigh he had been suppressing escaped from his mouth.
“Ah….” Dokja closed his eyes.
A dream. He had a dream. A dream that was a bit, no, a lot different than the dreams he usually had. He felt as if he had personally experienced everything. He even felt all sorts of emotions from the dream. Logically speaking, none of it made sense. The dream was detached from the everyday life he saw and experienced. The sceneries he intermittently witnessed were far removed from the background of the modern world, and he had even fought creatures that clearly were not human. Perhaps, everything was just a silly dream.
But, why…? The final scene was stuck in his head. The dying man…
was full of regrets. "What a waste..", Dokja thought out loud; almost mockingly to himself who had found himself in the world that was certainly not modern or even
familiar, a world that was not his. He had already fought creatures that weren't human, why was he sympathizing so much with the man the dream anyway?
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As a child, Kim Dokja loved to read, a habit that was encouraged by his mother. His father often abused him and his mother. Kim Dokja's school life was no better, as he faced physical abuse and bullying from his classmates. Eventually, things came to a head when Kim Dokja lashed back and killed his own father with a knife. His mother immediately told Kim Dokja a cover-up story, framing herself as the murderer so her son could go free. In order to solidify this as fact, Lee Sookyung (his mother) wrote a bestselling novel about their troubled domestic life and of how she killed her husband. She intended for the revenue made by the book to go to her son, but it instead went to the pockets of his neglectful foster parents. As a result, the novel only made the bullying Kim Dokja faced worse, as he was labeled the "son of a murderer." Eventually he could not handle it anymore and leapt out of his classroom window at age 15, intending to kill himself. He survived the fall but suffered great injuries, eventually landing somewhere that was clearly not his school. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a strange land of the past, very much unlike his own; with people equipped with superhuman abilities and powers that were only describable in the fictious novels he used to read. While it is unclear to why and how he got there, with his closest guess being the constant rifts in space-time being torn apart by the great beings in the world. And thus, for the past 10 years he has lived, trained and acquired as much knowledge as he could of this situation he is in.
Regret, remorse, lamentation, and a deep sigh… Even until his life flickered out, these fervent emotions raged inside him. They lingered inside Dokja ringing his heart. Dokja opened his eyes after much struggle and slowly looked around his surroundings. The sunlight felt warm and prickly, yet the breeze was cool and gentle; an air that felt untouched by the people, how very unlike to what he was used to. For some reason, this sight felt surreal. He had arrived in this strange world a decade ago, and yet...
how surreal. The gorgeous landscape, untouched lush forests, and the gentle sound of the stream beside him. A splitting migraine suddenly swept over him. He got up almost reflexively and staggered to the closest path of the rivulet. Once he dipped his head in the stream of cold water and submerged his head in it, his mind turned clear. When he couldn’t hold his breath any longer, he raised his head out of the water. His own face reflecting off the gentle, clean stream of water seemed too unfamiliar. His eyes were sunken, and his complexion was pale like a sickly man.
"This is… me?" He slowly touched his face as light returned to his eyes. His old face was nowhere to be found, replaced by the face of an impoverished and exhausted mercenary. A mercery of not this world, lacking in guidance and purpose - unable to differentiate reality to dreams, memories to fiction. He felt like he was looking at a dead man. He left the river bank without even wiping off the water dripping from his chin. He put on his now dirty white coat almost angrily and pushed through the trees into his supplies bag. His stomach ached, and he felt like he wouldn’t last much longer if he didn’t shove something down there. He searched rigorously through, but nothing grabbed his attention. He was painfully reminded why he was in that situation. Rather than leaving his house to grab food through hunting around the outskirts of Modoroki Shrine, he had stormed out because he felt he couldn’t stay inside. In the end, he left after picking out a waterskin filled with mead. He began to walk aimlessly until, eventually, he reached the spot just behind the shrine walls, home to more desirable yet dangerous game. It was the place he frequented to lament his luck whenever he lost money gambling with the villagers.
He was already here anyway. Dojka twisted open the lid and gulped it down. His stomach seemed to scream, but he didn’t care.
"Damn, that passel almost took my life."
As he sat in complete silence, the emotions he had been trying to ignore flooded back to him like a tidal wave.
"How did I end up like this?" Dokja stared at river’s dark waters. He had only just arrived in this world when he realized he was different from everyone else; at the young age of 15. Arrival through accident, as he called it, an attempt to end one's life to escape from the world - a wish - that only threw him into another.
Out the frying pan, into the fire. Dokja realized he had this ability which he called ‘White Eyes’ and considered himself chosen once he successfully manifested on purpose the first time. He quivered with excitement, anticipating that something special would happen to him one day. Something good, something different from his regular world. Looking back, the stories of his childhood only made him blush in embarrassment. It wasn’t until he got older that he learned being different from everyone else wasn’t all that good and that it was better to hide this difference. Even worse, when he didn't know how to move it forward. During the past decade years of his life, he had only determined two facts about his ability.
If he focused his senses on his eyes, living things and objects would glow in a bluish hue. Among them, there were some that would lose the color even if he maintained his focus. If he involved himself with things that were blue, especially people, he could also see what was essentially there "chakra systems". A look into their nervous system of sorts. Of course, Dokja had heard about chakra and knew he was slightly familiar with the feeling of the chakra inside him, but lacked both knowledge and training to use it himself.
This ability gave him almost this omnidirectional vision of the world, leaving him virtually no blind-spots so far, while also allowing him to look through solid objects. An x-ray machine, heat sensor, and a telescope- all in one. When he focused, he also realized the time felt slowed ahead of him, almost telling him what path of action is going to occur next.
The local gambling den was where he chose to confirm this hypothesis. At first, he simply considered the gambling den a place of experimentation. Although he lost 60 to 70 percent of his buy-in, he only brought one hundred coins every time. If he lost it all, he left without turning back. Although he wasn’t happy, the amount was no different from a D-Rank mission paygrade. The problem was with the days he actually won money. One time, he had even turned his buy-in to 5 thousand coins in two days. He ate everything he wanted, bought clothes he only imagined himself wearing, and replaced his weapons from the smithery. Even then, he still had a lot left over. The taste of success, the taste of strength, usefulness began to take over. Once he experienced it, his life began to change. The number of locations & times he visited the gambling skyrocketed and the amount of money he brought with him increased as well. He forgot all about his life and focused on earning money. As he was spending his days obsessed with winning money, his ability suddenly failed him. It wasn’t that it was out of the blue. His head hurt the more he used his ability, and he even developed insomnia as days where he couldn’t fall asleep increased. Almost like his body being unable to fuel the ability. Of course, his inhuman lifestyle and lack of sleep/exercise/diet had extinguished his untrained chakra reserves and it was placing a burden on his body - though Dokja didn't understand that yet. As the symptoms worsened, the blue color he used to see just by focusing a tiny bit became fainter. After he passed out one time from exhaustion, he lost his ability to see the color even after concentrating for hours. Although his greed had cost him his ability, he couldn’t stop gambling. He had experienced the positive side of the variance of gambling. He believed he could recoup his losses if he won big just once. He didn’t listen no matter who tried to talk sense into him. He had already fallen into the joy of gambling. The ecstasy he felt when he won was more electrifying than any other pleasure. From that point on, Dokja’s life headed straight down towards the bottom of the abyss. It wasn't the gambling itself, that was the issue. The overarching issue lied on his coping mechanisms, or the lack of one, resulting him to lead life of constant distraction.
And then, and then…. Dokja clenched his teeth.
Why did he suddenly feel like this?
Baseless pride and reckless defiance arose in his heart. But whenever this happened, the emotions he felt in his dreams flooded in and drowned them out. Suddenly, he recalled seeing his mother cry in the morning. Immediately, another powerful wave of emotions swept in, making him dizzy.
Son of a bitch. “Ah.” The mead can fell from his hand and spilled on the ground.
"Why did I do that?" Dokja covered his face with his hands. He put strength into all his fingers and pressed down crazily.
"'Just why did I do that?’ I didn’t mean to. I shouldn’t have said something like that. Damn it….” He felt like a part of his heart was torn out. The emotions he felt from his dream didn’t disappear as he became more aware of them. Instead, they became clearer. The feeling of regret stabbed his heart, and the edges of his eyes turned hot. Now, he felt like he understood the truth. That without his ability, he was just a worthless bastard.
"If only I never had this ability!’ The moment he finally accepted this truth… Dokja felt the last bits of his ego being washed out of his mind.
“Kuhuhuu…..” He suddenly broke out into laughter. He burst out as if his heart would explode. But gradually, his laughter turned into weeping.
“Heuk… I’m sorry….” He regretted everything. He felt stuffy like something was strangling him.
“I’m sorry” A grown youth cried like a kid.
‘I’d rather die than continue living like this.’ He had lived like trash for years at this point, after a fairly stable entry into this world but now troubling everyone around him. He couldn’t even imagine how much disappointment and pain he caused. Just like his
father said, maybe it was better for everyone in the long run if he just took his own life. Dokja slowly got up. The slowly flowing river water seemed more alluring than ever before. He approached it as if in a trance and looked down at the river. The tears flowing down from his cheeks caused tiny ripples in the water. Glaring at the river fixedly, he stepped forward with his shaking legs.
It was then. “!” Suddenly, the color of the water changed. From the point where Dokja's feet were or, more specifically, from the point he caused the ripples, blue color bloomed outward. Like dropping paint into clear water, the forgotten color, the lost light quickly spread out in all directions. Not only did it dye the flowing river water, but it also traveled up the support pillars of the bridge, dyeing the entire structure. It covered the spot he was just sitting in and, eventually, the distant sky. The whole world became dyed in blue, just like when he first came into this world.
Dokja stared at the feast of green dancing all around him with eyes wet with tears. His face was clearly one of utter disbelief.
“This is….”
After standing there like he had been struck by lightning, Dokja consciously scattered his concentration. Immediately, the world returned to its normal colors. When he concentrated again, the green world returned once more. His ability…
“…It came back?”
Just like how it suddenly disappeared one day…
“It really came back?”
It suddenly returned.
“But why?”
He had failed to restore his ability no matter how hard he tried. The sense of loss he felt that day could hardly be described with words. But what had caused it to activate again? Suddenly, he recalled the morning’s dream again. Now that he thought about it, the man from this dream seemed to use the same ability. Dokja frantically recalled the dream from the beginning.
“….”
But soon, he determined that it was unrelated. It didn’t make sense no matter how much he thought about it. Perhaps, his subconscious desire to regain his ability had manifested itself as the strange dream. That was more realistic and easier to swallow than actually believing that the dream had anything to do with regaining his ability.
"Wait."
But looking back, the dream was strangely realistic. Didn’t the dream also begin with the man drinking mead in river and lamenting over his life? Just like how he was now.
It was then. Just as Dokja fell into a new-found confusion, the click-clack of high-heels hitting the stone pavement rang out. The strange rhythmical steps caught Dokja’s attention, and he promptly turned his head to the side. And there, Dokja could definitely see it. In the world dyed in the rainbow, the viridescent light was gradually turning blue in one spot. It was in the direction of this sound. It was the direction he had to move forward to.
A purpose.
Mission Completion
