Chapter 1: The Black Paper (Part 1)
The evening rush in Seoul never truly slowed.
Thousands of people flooded the underground station, moving like a single organism through the maze of platforms, ticket gates, and staircases. Businessmen loosened their ties after another exhausting day. Students laughed over unfinished assignments. Office workers stared blankly at their phones while advertisements flashed endlessly across giant digital screens.
Among the crowd walked Jake Park.
A black backpack rested comfortably over one shoulder, its zipper barely containing several thick science journals and notebooks filled with equations. At only twenty-one years old, Jake had already earned a reputation as one of South Korea's brightest science students, attending one of the nation's most prestigious academies.
Professors admired his mind.
Classmates admired his grades.
Jake admired neither.
He simply enjoyed solving problems.
Life, in his opinion, was nothing more than an endless collection of puzzles waiting to be understood.
The subway screeched to a halt.
The doors slid open with a mechanical hiss.
Jake stepped onto the platform alongside hundreds of commuters.
He had already begun mentally organizing tomorrow's laboratory schedule when something unusual entered his peripheral vision.
"...Hm?"
Several meters away, lying perfectly flat against the concrete floor, was a single sheet of black paper.
Not dark gray.
Not glossy black.
It was... impossibly black.
Almost as though it absorbed the station lights rather than reflected them.
Jake slowed his pace.
No one else reacted.
People walked around it naturally, never glancing downward.
That alone caught his attention.
Curiosity won.
He approached.
The paper appeared ordinary at first glance, no larger than a notebook page. No folds. No markings.
Jake crouched.
"No company logo..."
"No texture..."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
Click.
The camera opened.
He aimed it directly at the paper.
For a brief second, the screen showed nothing.
Just the gray concrete beneath.
Jake frowned.
"What..."
He lowered the phone.
The paper remained exactly where it was.
He raised the camera again.
Nothing.
The paper simply refused to exist through the lens.
His eyebrows lifted.
"Interesting."
A dozen explanations flashed through his mind.
Optical illusion.
Defective sensor.
Strange reflective coating.
Some experimental display technology.
Before he could investigate further—
Words slowly emerged across the paper.
White letters spread over the darkness as if written by an invisible hand.
Jake instinctively leaned closer.
"You..."
The sentence continued forming.
"You will..."
His heartbeat quickened.
"You will not be able to continue..."
The final words appeared.
You will not be able to continue your normal life after this.
Jake stared.
"..."
"...Seriously?"
He blinked once.
The message vanished.
The paper disappeared with it.
Not faded.
Not burned.
Simply... gone.
The concrete beneath was completely empty.
For several long seconds, Jake remained frozen in place.
Then a quiet chuckle escaped him.
"...That's actually pretty creative."
He stood up, dusting off his pants.
"I've definitely read fantasy novels that start exactly like this."
He looked around.
Nothing.
No hidden projector.
No prank camera.
No magician waiting for applause.
The station continued exactly as before.
An elderly couple walked past him.
A child cried because he had dropped his ice cream.
A train arrived on the opposite platform.
Everything felt painfully ordinary.
Jake scratched the back of his head.
"Guess I've been spending too much time reading web novels."
With one last glance at the empty floor, he walked toward the station exit.
Still...
For reasons he couldn't explain...
The sentence refused to leave his mind.
You will not be able to continue your normal life after this.
He repeated it silently while climbing the stairs.
A coincidence.
Nothing more.
There had to be a logical explanation.
There always was.
Outside, the warm evening air greeted him.
Neon signs illuminated the streets, while restaurants filled the sidewalks with the scent of grilled meat and spicy ramen. Couples wandered between cafés. Street musicians performed for passing crowds.
Jake had walked this route home hundreds of times.
He knew every shortcut.
Every convenience store.
Every traffic light.
Without looking, he turned into his usual street.
Three minutes later...
He stopped.
"...Wait."
The alley before him didn't exist.
At least...
It shouldn't.
Instead of the familiar bookstore that always stood at the corner...
There was an old brick building covered in ivy.
Jake frowned.
He slowly looked behind him.
"...Did I take the wrong turn?"
Impossible.
His memory bordered on photographic.
He pulled out his phone.
The GPS loaded.
Loading...
Loading...
Loading...
No signal.
Jake looked toward the sky.
Clear weather.
Perfect reception.
"...Now that's strange."
A faint static crackled through his phone's speaker before the screen suddenly went black.
Not powered off.
Black.
The same impossible black he had seen on the paper.
Jake frowned.
The screen remained pitch black.
"...Seriously?"
He pressed the power button.
Nothing.
He held it for several seconds.
Still nothing.
A sigh escaped his lips.
"Great. My phone chooses today to die."
He slipped it back into his pocket and looked around.
Something felt... wrong.
Not dangerous.
Just unfamiliar.
He had lived in this neighborhood for years. Every intersection, every shortcut, every building had become second nature to him.
Yet now, none of it felt right.
The bookstore that should have been on the corner was gone.
The narrow alley he usually took had disappeared.
Even the apartment buildings looked... different.
Jake rubbed his temples.
Did I somehow walk into another district?
No.
That wasn't possible.
His sense of direction had never failed him before.
"...Maybe I'm just overthinking because of that paper."
He let out a quiet laugh.
"A mysterious black paper, disappearing words, and now I think the city's changing."
"Yeah... sounds like the opening chapter of a fantasy novel."
Despite joking with himself, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling settling in his chest.
He took another step forward.
The moment his foot touched the pavement—
A sharp pain exploded inside his head.
"...Gh!"
His vision blurred.
It wasn't a normal headache.
It felt as though something had forced its way into his mind.
His knees buckled.
Another wave of pain followed.
Stronger.
His breathing became uneven.
"W-What... is..."
Fragments.
Images.
Voices.
Faces he had never seen flashed before his eyes.
A massive city surrounded by towering walls.
A silver-haired child laughing beneath a tree.
A crimson sky.
A sword stained with blood.
An unfamiliar voice whispered directly into his mind.
"Welcome."
Jake froze.
"What...?"
The whisper echoed again.
Then again.
Again.
Each repetition grew louder until it drowned out every other sound.
He grabbed his head.
"Stop..."
The world around him twisted.
Buildings stretched unnaturally.
The street beneath his feet seemed to crack apart.
His heartbeat pounded against his ears.
His vision darkened.
The last thing he saw was...
A black sheet of paper floating silently before him.
Then—
Everything disappeared.
...
...
"...Kame."
A voice.
Distant.
"...Kame!"
Louder this time.
Jake slowly opened his eyes.
The first thing he noticed was the ceiling.
Wooden.
Old.
Definitely not his apartment.
His vision slowly cleared.
He sat up instinctively—
Only to hear an irritated voice from beside him.
"What are you doing just standing there like an idiot?"
Jake turned.
A middle-aged man dressed in elegant clothing stood with his arms crossed, glaring at him.
His expression was one of complete annoyance.
"Honestly... were you sleeping with your eyes open again?"
Jake blinked.
"...Excuse me?"
The man's eyebrows twitched.
"Kame."
"..."
"Kame Kousle."
Jake looked behind himself.
Nobody.
The man sighed dramatically.
"I'm talking to you."
Jake stared.
Kame...?
Before he could ask another question—
A violent headache struck him once more.
"Ugh—!"
His legs nearly gave out.
Countless memories flooded into his mind.
Names.
Places.
Languages.
Faces.
Skills.
Years of experiences that weren't his.
They poured into his consciousness like a broken dam.
He saw a young boy training with a wooden sword.
He saw the same boy growing into a calm, disciplined young man.
He saw himself standing beside the irritated man before him.
Protecting him.
Following him.
Serving him.
The memories ended as suddenly as they had begun.
Jake's breathing became heavy.
"...No way..."
His voice sounded different.
Slightly deeper.
He slowly raised his hands.
Different.
Larger.
Scarred.
His heartbeat accelerated.
Without thinking, he rushed toward the nearby window.
The reflection staring back at him wasn't Jake Park.
Dark hair.
Sharper features.
A lean yet athletic frame.
A face he had never seen before.
"...Who..."
The answer surfaced almost instantly.
Kame Kousle.
Jake took a slow step backward.
"No..."
He touched his own face.
The reflection copied every movement.
"This..."
A bitter smile appeared on his lips.
"...This actually happened."
He laughed once.
A dry, disbelieving laugh.
"So that paper wasn't a prank after all."
He closed his eyes for several seconds.
Then opened them again.
The reflection remained.
No dream.
No hallucination.
No scientific explanation immediately came to mind.
For the first time in his life...
Jake Park encountered a phenomenon he couldn't explain.
And somehow...
That terrified him far less than it should have.
A sharp clap echoed through the room.
"Have you finally finished daydreaming?"
Jake looked up.
The irritated man was still staring at him, tapping his foot impatiently.
"...Sorry."
The apology slipped out naturally.
Almost too naturally.
The man frowned.
"Hm?"
For some reason, that simple response seemed to surprise him.
He folded his arms.
"Whatever. Breakfast is ready."
Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room.
Jake remained frozen for several seconds.
"...Breakfast?"
A flood of newly acquired memories surfaced once more.
The man's name...
Joshen Gramela.
Age: fifty-eight.
Occupation...
None.
Officially, he was the heir to the Gramela family, one of the wealthiest garment manufacturers in the world.
Unofficially...
A spoiled man-child.
And Jake—
No.
Kame.
He was Joshen's personal bodyguard and assistant.
"...What kind of first day is this?"
Taking a deep breath, Jake stepped outside.
The mansion stretched far beyond what he'd imagined. Marble floors reflected the morning sunlight pouring through towering windows, while expensive paintings decorated the walls.
"So the memories weren't lying..."
He followed the corridor until voices reached his ears.
The dining room.
A long table sat at the center, already prepared with breakfast.
Three people were seated.
Joshen casually pulled out his chair and sat down without saying a word.
Across from him sat a dignified man with neatly combed gray hair.
Beside him was a gentle-looking woman wearing a warm smile.
The moment Jake entered—
The woman smiled.
"Oh, Kame. Good morning."
Jake instinctively bowed.
"Good morning."
"There you are," she said warmly. "Come, have breakfast with us."
Jake hesitated.
Bodyguards usually eat with their employers?
Before he could decline—
"You heard your mother," the older man said, glancing toward the empty chair. "Sit."
"...Yes, sir."
Jake quietly took the seat.
For a few moments...
Only the sound of utensils filled the room.
Jake used the silence to observe everyone.
The woman radiated kindness.
The older man carried himself with quiet authority.
Joshen...
Well...
He looked half-asleep.
The older man suddenly placed his cup on the table.
"Joshen."
"...Hm?"
"I visited the factory yesterday."
Joshen immediately looked away.
"I see."
"You 'see'?"
The man's expression hardened.
"Do you know what your manager told me?"
"No."
"He told me you spent three hours arguing over the color of a button."
Jake nearly dropped his spoon.
A button...?
"And after that," the older man continued, "you somehow managed to delay an entire production line."
Joshen quietly continued eating.
Not a single word of defense.
The older man sighed.
"I've spent decades building this company."
His voice wasn't angry anymore.
It sounded tired.
"I had hoped that, by now, you would at least show some interest in carrying it forward."
Silence.
"You are fifty-eight years old."
Jake instinctively glanced toward Joshen.
Fifty-eight...
He certainly didn't look old.
More like someone in his late twenties.
The older man rubbed his forehead.
"Most people your age have already started planning their future."
Joshen muttered under his breath.
"I still have time..."
Jake almost nodded in agreement.
Yeah... he's only fifty-eight.
The older man slowly looked at him.
"Kame."
"...Yes?"
"I forgot you're new here."
Jake straightened his posture.
"Our country is a little different from where you're from."
He gave a small smile.
"The average person lives for around two hundred and fifty years."
Jake froze.
"...Two hundred and fifty?"
The woman laughed softly.
"It surprised us too when we first learned about other countries."
The older man nodded.
"People here aren't considered true adults until around sixty."
Jake blinked several times.
"So..."
He unconsciously looked toward Joshen.
"...He's basically..."
The woman smiled knowingly.
"A child by our standards."
Joshen immediately protested.
"I'm not a child!"
"You certainly don't act like an adult," his father replied without missing a beat.
Jake lowered his head, trying desperately not to laugh.
A strange warmth settled over the table.
Despite the teasing...
Despite the disappointment...
There was no hatred.
Only a family trying, in their own imperfect way, to understand each other.
Breakfast ended shortly afterward.
As everyone stood, the older man looked toward Joshen.
"You're coming with me."
"...Do I have to?"
"Yes."
Joshen groaned dramatically before walking toward the exit.
Jake quickly followed.
Outside the mansion...
An enormous carriage-like automobile waited.
It resembled a luxury car, yet its design was unlike anything Jake had ever seen.
This world's technology...
...wasn't quite the same as Earth's.
The journey was silent.
Jake spent every minute organizing Kame's memories.
Names.
Locations.
Languages.
Customs.
The more he remembered...
The more real this world became.
After nearly half an hour—
The vehicle came to a stop.
Jake stepped outside...
...and found himself staring at an enormous complex.
Buildings stretched across the horizon.
Hundreds of workers moved between warehouses.
Large machines hummed endlessly.
Rolls of colorful fabric filled entire storage halls.
"The Gramela Garment Company," Jake whispered.
Even with Kame's memories...
Seeing it with his own eyes was overwhelming.
"So this is where I'll be working..."
Joshen stretched lazily.
"Come on."
The two entered together.
Employees immediately noticed them.
"Good morning, Young Master."
Joshen barely acknowledged them.
"Hmph."
He continued walking without slowing down.
"Kame!"
A worker waved enthusiastically.
Jake instinctively smiled.
"Good morning."
Another employee greeted him.
"Morning, Kame!"
"Have a great day."
"You too."
Within moments...
People throughout the factory began greeting him.
Each time—
Jake answered with the same calm smile.
Watching from several steps ahead...
Joshen slowly came to a stop.
He looked back.
Everyone greeted Kame.
Everyone smiled.
No one smiled at him like that.
His shoulders lowered slightly.
He quietly looked toward the floor.
"..."
A tiny voice escaped his lips.
"So..."
"...this is what it feels like."
His eyes softened.
"...The only person who ever smiled at me like that..."
"...was Grandma."
For the first time that morning—
Jake looked at Joshen...
And saw not an arrogant heir.
But an incredibly lonely man.
End of Chapter 1