Chapter 08
“Huh?”
Startled, I looked in the direction Mom was pointing.
She was right.
‘Isn’t that really Im Rampa?’
He was standing a short distance away with someone else.
Speak of the devil… I had just been thinking about Im Rampa, and there he was.
‘Why is he here?’
Wasn’t it enough that I’d run into the Korean-Australian kid in Bundang? Now I had to meet him at a hospital in Seoul too?
Could coincidences really happen this often?
Mom, delighted to see the (handsome) little boy she knew, looked ready to call out to him.
But at that perfect moment, our number flashed on the registration counter.
“Oh! It’s our turn! Don’t wander off. Go call Rampa over and chat with him while Mom takes care of this. I’ll be right back!”
“Okay.”
Watching her hurry toward the counter, I idly swung my short legs.
Of course, I had absolutely no intention of calling Im Rampa over.
Every time I saw him, my conscience stabbed at me. Why would I invite that feeling?
I stole a glance toward where he was standing.
Near the hospital lobby’s Christmas tree.
Unlike the 2020s, where Christmas had to compete with endless forms of entertainment, the holiday season in the late 1990s was grand and extravagant.
Christmas carols echoed everywhere.
Even a large hospital wasn’t an exception.
The brilliantly decorated tree sparkled in rhythm with the festive atmosphere.
Wrapped in a thick scarf, Im Rampa was talking to someone in front of the dazzling tree.
From where I sat, I couldn’t see the adult’s face.
I’d better look away before they notice me.
Just as I was about to turn my head—
Uh-oh.
Too late.
Our eyes met.
Im Rampa’s eyes widened as soon as he spotted me.
No. Please. Don’t come over. Don’t run over here—
“Hey! Pixie! Singa!”
“…I told you not to call me that!”
“But you do magic, don’t ya?”
“But you use magic, don’t you? Am I wrong?”
“Stop speaking English…”
“Baby, you do magic, right? Then you’re Tinker Bell.”
“No. That’s so embarrassing.”
“‘Embarrassing?’ Your Korean’s so hard to understand, girl.”
Shaking his head, Im Rampa walked over and naturally sat beside me.
Then he leaned closer and slowly examined my face as if inspecting every detail.
It was incredibly uncomfortable.
“What?”
“Still sick? A lot?”
“…Huh? I’m not sick.”
“You’re lying. You bleed a lot. All the time. Kyo and I saw.”
His Korean pronunciation was a little awkward, but his expression and voice were completely serious.
Slowly, he continued.
“You’re really tiny. If you lose that much blood, it’s dangerous. As you know, I’m kind of an athlete. I know the human body better than you do. Your parents need to pay more attention to you.”
“That’s why I came to the hospital…”
“Clever girl.”
His hand—much larger than those of other kids his age—lightly patted the furry hat on my head.
The boy who had grown up in the Southern Hemisphere, where Christmas was always celebrated in summer, had hands reddened by Seoul’s brutal winter.
The weight on my conscience grew even heavier.
Feeling awkward for no reason, I was just about to ask sarcastically whether he didn’t even own gloves—
“Rampa! You can’t just run off like that! You scared me.”
“Oh! Sorry, Uncle. I saw my friend.”
“You’ve got a friend here besides Hyungyo?”
It was the man Rampa had been talking to.
He looked to be in his mid-thirties.
A handsome gentleman with an exceptionally warm smile.
Maybe this made me sound shallow…
But the expensive long coat he was wearing practically gleamed with luxury.
“Haha! I wondered why you rushed off like that! So this is your adorable little friend? What’s your name, sweetheart?”
Wait.
‘Uncle?’
Could this be the “uncle” Rampa had mentioned when we first met?
‘Then… is this our landlord?’
The thought immediately made me wary.
Instead of answering, I silently looked up at him.
Rampa answered for me.
“Her— no, her name’s Singa. I think her guardian stepped away for a moment. I should stay with her. You go ahead, Uncle.”
“What? Come on, kid. That hurts my feelings. I reserved you first today, remember? You promised you’d be on my side.”
“No. I didn’t promise. I just said okay. That’s a different matter.”
Well, look at that.
I had completely forgotten I was supposed to be observing my (presumed) landlord.
Instead, I secretly glanced at Rampa.
It struck me all over again.
‘A semi-pro really is different.’
For a little kid, he was surprisingly firm when dealing with adults.
Apparently I wasn’t the only one who noticed.
The man suddenly changed targets and asked me instead.
“What do you think, little miss? It seems like big brother here can’t leave because of you. But Uncle really needs Rampa today. Would you mind letting me borrow him just this once?”
What was he talking about?
Typical INFP trait: excellent at reading the room.
I quickly looked at Rampa, caught on to the situation, and timidly said,
“O-oppa… Singa doesn’t want to be alone. Waaah…”
“…”
I knew it.
That coat had looked way too expensive.
Wasn’t this exactly what a scammer looked like?
You couldn’t forget that child kidnappings were still fairly common in this era.
Apparently I’d given the right answer.
Rampa’s expression stiffened slightly before he spoke.
“Uncle An-min. Let’s go. I’ll call ya later.”
Uncle An-min?
‘Why does that name sound so familiar—’
I froze.
An unsettling sense of déjà vu washed over me.
No way…
Come on… that can’t be possible…
My heart pounded.
Repeating No way over and over inside my head, I cautiously tested him.
“Your name is An-min? What’s your last name?”
“Hm? Oh. My name’s Je An-min.”
Je An-min?
An icy chill spread from my feet through my entire body.
A single image flashed through my mind.
A matte navy Formula One machine roaring down the circuit at breathtaking speed.
The race car of Rampa Lim—the fastest man in the world.
And emblazoned across it, larger than anything else, was the logo of its main sponsor.
〈QERA〉
And Je An-min.
Anyone from the original timeline in Korea knew that name.
He was the founder of QERA.
The very man standing right in front of me.
The traitor Park Min-su had hated more than anyone.
“I’m actually the founder of QERA.”
“I know. The founder the world knows is someone else. But that bastard… that con artist… wasn’t even a co-founder. He’s nothing but a despicable traitor.”
“If I could go back… I would never let him get away with it. Never again… those bastards…”
Deathly pale, I looked back and forth between Im Rampa and Je An-min.
I remembered it with perfect clarity.
How could I ever forget?
That was the day I had been thrown back in time.
How could I possibly forget the words Uncle Park Min-su had muttered with such bitter hatred?
Every syllable of his venomous voice remained vivid in my memory.
‘Right… Of course. QERA was the main sponsor of Rampa’s racing team. Naturally the two of them would be connected.’
I knew that.
But still…
His uncle, too?
Rampa… are you really this unlucky?
‘This man is the main villain of this entire world!’
