Between life & Death

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At the RM team's base, Junwoong was frantically gathering items he deemed necessary for our mission. We had planned to rendezvous with members of the suicide pact at a remote part of the city by 10 am. "Are you certain we shouldn't inform Ms. Koo or Mr. Lim at least?" I queried, my unease growing. "They'd only try to dissuade us," Junwoong retorted, his focus unwavering. "Yet, something feels off to me," I expressed, voicing my apprehension.

"Just trust me, we've got this," he reassured me as he zipped up the bag. His confidence seemed unshakable, but then, he wasn't in mortal danger like I was. As a human, the stakes were significantly higher for me. "Alright, it's time," he announced, gesturing towards the exit. With a heavy sigh, I followed, bracing myself to confront these predators. Let's trap these rats.

~Time skip~

We reached the appointed location, a nondescript building that felt as somber as our purpose there. Inside, we encountered two men and a woman already waiting. As we introduced ourselves using the IDs from the chat, I sensed a heavy air of despair, particularly from one of the men, who called himself Betamale. His presence emitted an unsettling vibe that put me on edge.

"I'm Ending," I announced, trying to stay in character. "And I'm Jumadeung," added Junwoong, keeping up with our aliases. Betamale, with a forced smile, informed us, "Grim Reaper said he'll arrive shortly with the equipment."

Noticing the absence of another member, Junwoong remarked, "Looks like Farewell didn't make it." Betamale scoffed at this, his disdain palpable, "Coward. Took a lot for each of us to be here." His words were sharp, cutting through the tense atmosphere.

"Let's not judge. We're all here for our reasons," Junwoong interjected, perhaps too cheerfully for the somber mood of the group. His tone seemed out of place, and I noticed the others picking up on it, their expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

Breaking the awkwardness, Betamale produced bottles of soju, offering them to us, "I can't face what's coming next without dulling the senses." We formed a circle and began to drink, the soju offering a temporary respite from the gravity of our gathering.

During the somber gathering, the atmosphere was thick with despair as each individual shared their story. The pianist, overwhelmed by the inequality of the music industry, expressed her frustration with the system that favored wealth over talent. "I hate my youth, all that shit about enjoying it I won't take ir anymore. Seeing rich colleagues less talented holding recitals, just makes me hate myself." she said, her voice laced with bitterness.

Junwoong, trying to lighten the mood, suggested, "You could try something new, you're still so young."

The other man, hollow-eyed and weary, shared his sense of futility, feeling like he had sacrificed his happiness for a family that seemed oblivious to his internal turmoil. "Every day feels like I'm just going through the motions, without purpose," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Junwoong, ever the optimist, offered, "Why don't you try a new hobby, start your own business, find the small joys."

As I listened, I realized Junwoong's well-intentioned advice might come off as naive to those mired in their despair. His words, meant to inspire, seemed to clash with the raw, unfiltered pain shared around the circle. I couldn't help but feel a growing concern that our true motives might be uncovered if he continued in this vein.

"You seem out of place here," Betamale remarked, eyeing me with suspicion. "Your perspective is just different from ours." He concluded, shaking his head slightly. "I apologize," Junwoong offered softly, sensing the growing tension.

My turn to speak arrived, dredging up a past I thought I'd sealed away. "I'm a doctor," I began, my voice steady despite the rising emotions. "For five years, I've dedicated myself to this profession, earning a decent living and working at a renowned hospital. So why am I here? It's the culmination of countless small steps. My journey started with my father's alcoholism. He was never physically abusive, but the constant fear of his safety, of him not making it home, was a shadow over my childhood. He loved us, yet his addiction slowly tore our family apart."