Chapter 1: Starting Over from ‘One’ Part 1

The accident happened in an instant.

-Bzzzt!

“Hey, what’s going on here?! Who turned the circuit breaker back on?! Didn’t you read the notice?! Mr. Go! It’s dangerous! Let go, let go!! Take your hand off!!”

But I couldn’t let go.

Instead, as the electricity coursed through, my hand locked up painfully, hardening like stone.

“Argh-?!”

“Damn it!”

Mr. Kim, who had been warning me from the side, hurriedly grabbed my clothes and pulled me down.

-Thud!

“Ugh…!”

A buzzing sound echoed repeatedly in my ears, and I couldn’t muster any strength, so I collapsed.

I couldn’t do anything.

This was a scene where we were in the middle of replacing a signboard.

The sound of my heavy body hitting the ground echoed grandly, like stereo sound in a movie theater.

In other words, it sounded distant, as if it was happening to someone else.

It felt like I was halfway experiencing an out-of-body sensation.

Normally, I would have realized that I wouldn’t be able to stay conscious.

‘Something’s wrong.’

Of course.

The owner of the sign company, Kim Palgon, who used to boast about “a man can take a broken finger,” was approaching, his face pale.

His usually rugged, ugly face looked ghostly.

“Hey, Mr. Go! Mr. Go! Hey! Hun-ah!! Snap out of it!!”

“OO…”

“Damn it! I left my phone in the car…?! Damn it!! Someone call 911~!! Hurry!!”

“Oh my, what happened?!”

“Call 911, ma’am!! 911-!! Please!! A man’s dying!!”

“Hold on a second! Oh no, what’s going on…!”

“Quickly, quickly, quickly!!!”

After urgently instructing the lady from the nearby supermarket, Mr. Kim put his hand to my nose and neck for a moment.

He stopped slapping my cheeks and started performing CPR urgently.

“The position… here it is!”

Sign shop owner Kim Palgon.

He wasn’t the type to fumble around and miss the golden hour.

Even as I was sinking into the abyss of death, I was impressed.

‘This is the decisiveness of a former special forces soldier…?!’

“Hoo! One, two!”

Mr. Kim placed his clasped hands on my chest.

His forearm muscles twitched as he performed up-and-down compressions.

“One, two, three, four-!”

‘This exemplary pressure, worthy of a special forces background! It feels like I might die from the pain!’

But I had to endure it.

Right now, he was pumping my heart with patriotism and the spirit of the special forces as an industrial worker.

Ah, the spirit of never abandoning a comrade…!

I was intoxicated by that special forces spirit.

‘Damn, what’s with this strength! Isn’t my heart twitching~! Haha!’

Kim Palgon was a man who could get drunk without alcohol.

Although my heart was stopping, my chest was heating up.

‘Twitch with the spirit of the special forces, my heart!’

“One, two, three, four-!”

The heart should be… twitching.

“Haa…! One, two, three-!”

But it only hurt, with no effect.

‘Damn! Does the special forces buff deactivate after discharge…?!’

Or did he never have that soldier’s spirit in the first place?

My heart seemed to mock former special forces Kim as it gradually switched to power-saving mode.

The civilian’s blood was cold.

‘Damn, why can’t I pass out…! It hurts, please go easy…!’

It hurt, but my mouth wouldn’t move.

If this was the case, I’d rather just shake it off and get up, but the pain was still there.

So I was stuck convulsing and feeling the pain.

‘This is screwed.’

Despite Mr. Kim’s urgent CPR, my consciousness grew dimmer.

‘Muscle training doesn’t help survival much, huh…

Is the human body so weak against electricity?

Despite all that time training at the gym and building volume, my HP increased but not my resistance to electric attributes or pain resistance.

This is why you shouldn’t raise a tank.

But having secured a rare nickname, I couldn’t give up on this character.

I can’t resist a rare nickname.

‘What am I even saying? Now my mind’s really wandering.’

It hurts.

It hurts… but strangely, I feel cold and sleepy.

Like I haven’t slept for three days and nights.

I feel like grabbing a bottle of soju and sleeping soundly.

Spreading out a mattress, sleeping like a baby… That thought suddenly crossed my mind.

‘Am I really going to die…?’

My heart throbbed like it was being stabbed with a knife, and Mr. Kim’s urgent face danced in my darkening vision.

Since I was still in my thirties, the word ‘death’ had always felt distant, but now it hovered near my eyes.

‘Looks like I’m really going to die.’

What would the funeral sign read?

“Name: Go Hun”

“Profession: Aspiring artist”

I never thought that while doing a sign-replacement part-time job to earn some paint and ramen money, I would end up electrocuted.

-A pitiful life.

Imagining my epitaph mixed up like bibim-myeon, memories flashed before my mind.

‘Failed to live up to my name.’

Go Hun.

A name given by my father, using the character for ‘meritorious achievement.’

It meant ‘to become a man who achieves great things.’

Even the family name ‘Go’ used the character for ‘high,’ giving the name an ambitious meaning when combined.

A man who would unfold high and great ambitions.

‘My parents gave me a name too grand for me.’

“Cardiac arrest! Move him quickly!!”

They desperately tried to save me, but they couldn’t put a departed soul back into its body.

‘Ah, I’m sleepy.’

I couldn’t care about the details.

‘Let’s sleep soundly and think about it later.’

That’s what I thought.

‘Mr. Kim Palgon, thank you for everything. I hope you find a good new part-timer. I’m taking my leave now.’

If I were given another chance…

Could I live a life less pathetic than this?

Death was silent.

When I opened my eyes again, what was in front of me was—

“A one-room villa…?”

It was the familiar one-room villa living room where I’d lived with my uncle until I became an adult.

There wasn’t any room division since it was a one-room place, but we always called the middle area the living room.

This dark living room had only one closet smelling faintly of ramen and a TV, with a cheap mat and bedding spread out on the floor.

The house, where two men of different sizes lived, reeked of bachelor life and looked as grim as a prison.

But that’s what made it romantic… or not.

‘Oh, the smell of fermented soybean paste. The smell of that spilled paste from the day we moved in is still here. It never went away, even when we moved out.’

The familiar scent and the old scene left me momentarily dazed.

My mind, slowed to a crawl, absentmindedly swept the floor, and I let out a hollow laugh.

The sticky yellow linoleum clung to my palm.

“This sticky yellow linoleum, it’s been a while. You don’t see this kind of flooring anywhere these days…”

Oh.

What’s with this voice?

“It disappeared…?”

Oh.

Wait a minute.

My voice sounds strange.

Maybe it’s raspy from the accident?

“Ah, hmm, ahem… Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do…”

But it still sounded high-pitched.

My voice, which had once cracked like a desert, had turned into an unmistakably clear, high pitch like a nightingale.

‘What? Why is my voice so thin? And my hair… it’s almost long enough to reach my shoulders? When did I grow it this long…?’

As I reached up to touch the hair flowing down to my shoulders—

“Mmm…”

I was startled by a mumble from behind and quickly turned around.

“Un… uncle…?”

“Mmm…”

My uncle was there.

A younger version of him than I remembered, wearing a red T-shirt and sleeping.

As he lay turned away, the words on the back of his red T-shirt made me gasp.

“2002 World Cup.”

‘Wow, talk about ancient history. These days, anyone mentioning the 2002 World Cup gets labeled as a total fossil.’

But back in this time, it was a common sight.

That red T-shirt was everywhere.

“Snore…”

Anyone who’s dabbled in nerdy stuff.

Anyone who’s browsed web novels.

Couldn’t possibly not know what’s going on.

Answer: I’ve gone back over 20 years and returned as a young kid in the early 2000s.

“…Is this for real?”

I rolled my eyes to take in my surroundings, trying to make sense of the situation.

Then I noticed a perfect object to reflect my current appearance.

‘Oh yeah, there was a full-length mirror we’d picked up from the trash.’

I slowly stood up and approached the mirror.

The room was still dark, but my eyes, accustomed to the dimness, could clearly make out my reflection.

In the mirror, a young girl mirrored my posture.

‘Why… is there a girl..?’

My hair had grown so densely that it practically covered my back like a curtain.

And beneath the loose T-shirt, my thin frame, though faint, had definite curves.

Even though my brain resisted, my intuition knew.

-This was my appearance.

When my thoughts reached that point, a chill ran down my spine.

“…No way.”

I quickly looked down to check for ‘it.’

It was gone.

Of course, given this appearance… but still… it was gone.

Gone.

“Gone…?”

Let’s revise the answer.

‘I…’

“I’ve gone back over 20 years and returned as a young ‘girl’ in the early 2000s.”