The Best of Tomorrow-Chapter 7Vol 2. .3
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Kwon Eun-chan checked the name on the city gas bill in the 301 mailbox and headed to a PC room. It felt a little like he was prying into someone’s personal information—maybe even committing a crime—but he had to retrieve the pocket watch. The light that had burst out of Room 301 had undoubtedly been that light. No one had answered, no matter how many times he rang the bell or knocked. Which could only mean one thing: time travel.
He opened a browser window and typed in the name “Im Sol.” The results were far too broad. His fingers hovered uncertainly over the keyboard. His right index finger had landed on the ‘ㅗ’ key, and before he realized it, the search bar was filling up with ‘ㅗㅗㅗㅗㅗㅗㅗ.’
Clicking his tongue, he wiped the inside of his cheek with his tongue and refocused. He added “Ryu Seon-jae” after her name. Im Sol Ryu Seon-jae. He scrolled through dozens of pages. One by one, he copied and searched usernames and nicknames. After a while, he found one:
“Run Away with Seon-jae on Your Back.”
He mechanically copied the nickname and searched again. One post popped up with the title:
“Please tell me how to use the pocket watch to time travel.”
Kwon Eun-chan, slouched deep in the chair with his back against it, suddenly sat up straight. He leaned in, face almost pressed to the monitor, and clicked the post.
[I picked up a pocket watch while walking down the street, and I think it lets me time travel. Does anyone know anything about this? The owner came looking for me and asked for it back. Does this thing have a tracker?]
[I played that ages ago, don’t really remember. People still do this? I think you get that around level 100. Doesn’t have tracking, I think. But what do you mean owner?]
Eun-chan’s jaw dropped.
“Holy shit.”
This didn’t read like someone talking about a game. He checked the date of the comment. Six years ago.
Had the time tilted back to that moment six years ago?
His fingers flew across the keyboard. He opened a new browser tab and searched “Im Sol” along with “Run Away with Seon-jae on Your Back.” A few posts came up about concert ticket resales for Potato Pancakes.
[Me. I want the ticket. Please. My contact is 010-xxxx-xxxx.]
A reply left by Im Sol with her phone number.
She must’ve failed to get a ticket herself.
Eun-chan took out his phone. She might not still be using the same number from six years ago, but it was worth a try. He typed in the number and hit call. The tone rang out as he nervously tapped the space bar with his fingers.
Then—click—the call connected. His eyes widened in tension. He swallowed.
“Hello?”
No response.
“Hello? Can you hear me?”
— “...Hello?”
A voice came through intermittently. The connection was bad—no time for pleasantries. He cut straight to the point.
“The watch.”
— “What?”
“You have it, don’t you?”
— “I’m sorry, who is this?”
A sharp voice on the other end.
“You took it. Six years ago.”
He said it firmly, trying to sound authoritative—his version of interrogation.
Click. The call cut off.
Kwon Eun-chan’s eyes went wide.
“Holy shit. That was her.”
He immediately tried calling again, but the line didn’t connect. Setting his phone down, he glanced at the clock on the bottom corner of the monitor—then the screen flickered black.
“Huh?”
He blinked, scanning the room. Nothing had changed. Maybe a blackout? But if it were, the gamers around him wouldn’t be sitting still. His head tilted.
Relieved he’d found the watch, and yet feeling anxious.
If you want to save that child, go ahead and try. In a twisted timeline, you can’t reveal anything about the watch. It’s better to act than to try to explain what you saw.
“Another method? What the hell kind of method exists for someone who’s already dead...”
His exhale rustled his bangs. He was about to close the browser but impulsively searched Ryu Seon-jae’s name again.
As he scrolled with a gloomy look, his eyes gradually widened.
All the articles about Seon-jae’s death—were gone.
“What...?”
He sat up straight and typed again: Ryu Seon-jae death.
Nothing came up.
But I didn’t do anything. I lost the watch. I couldn’t change anything...
He stared blankly at the monitor. Then he called Kwon Seong-jun.
The voice picked up quickly.
— “Yeah, Eun-chan.”
“Hyung, where are you right now?”
— “At the dorm. Why?”
“The dorm? Not the funeral home?”
— “What are you talking about?”
Eun-chan’s mouth fell open. He couldn’t shut it.
What is happening? What is this? Is it all a dream?
Just then, Seong-jun called his name again, snapping him out of it.
“What about Seon-jae hyung?”
— “Seon-jae? He’s in his room.”
“...No fucking way...”
— “What?”
“...This is insane...”
Eun-chan stared at the monitor, dazed. The incomprehensible reality made him reach out and touch the screen, as if to confirm it was real.
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Kwon Eun-chan left the PC room and headed for Im Sol’s house.
The balance will tilt toward a time where inevitable fate can be interrupted.
He recalled what the woman who claimed to be the god of fate had said.
The pocket watch had definitely ended up in Im Sol’s hands. She’d said she gave him a journey because he seemed so powerless. But when Eun-chan came into the tilted timeline, there had been no Seon-jae—only Im Sol. And somewhere along the way, the watch had passed into her hands.
Maybe this, too, was fate.
Maybe he wasn’t a time traveler, but a messenger.
Maybe that’s why the god of fate had given him the watch in the first place.
Standing in front of Room 301, Eun-chan checked the time. About 20 minutes until 3 a.m.
He took out his phone and dialed Im Sol’s number. The tone rang out, and then—click.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello? Can you hear me?”
— “...Hello?”
“You can hear me?”
— “Y-yes.”
Eun-chan let out a long sigh.
“You have no idea how much I panicked thinking I’d lost that watch.”
— “I’m sorry, but... who is this?”
“I’m the person who lost it.”
— “I didn’t steal it. I just picked it up off the street.”
“I know. Doesn’t matter now—do you still have it?”
— “Yes...”
“You can’t lose it. Is the time close to the hour?”
— “Yes. It’s close to three.”
“Then you’ll be heading back soon.”
— “Back where?”
“Travelers return to their original time at the hour mark. Or so they say.”
— “So... I’ll go back just because it hits the hour? I don’t have to do anything?”
“Right.”
Static buzzed through the line. Bad reception again—it must’ve been connecting across timelines.
“I’m waiting outside your apartment. Don’t get any funny ideas—just return the watch once you’re back.”
— “My apartment?”
“Yes. Your neighbor’s TV is loud as hell, by the way. You haven’t told anyone you’re a time traveler, right? You can’t tell anyone. You probably can’t even if you tried.”
— “I haven’t. I didn’t tell anyone.”
Seon-jae was alive again. And all Eun-chan had done was lose a watch.
The power that had changed Seon-jae’s fate—must’ve existed in the past.
It scared him a little.
Just as Seon-jae’s future had changed... Im Sol’s future might’ve changed too.
“You did good. And I don’t know what you’ve been doing, but... be careful. One wrong move, and your life here could fall apart.”
— “What?”
The static grew louder.
“The future has changed.”
Silence.
Eun-chan pulled the phone away from his ear. The call had ended. He slid the phone into his pocket and crouched on the stairwell.
It felt strange—waiting outside a stranger’s apartment in a time where he didn’t know how his own life was going.
And yet, his heart fluttered.
Seon-jae was alive. And soon, he himself would wake up from the long sleep. That thought made him glad.
In the pitch-dark stairwell, Eun-chan took out his phone again. He rubbed his thumb across the screen, then opened the messaging app.
He thought of Seon-jae—sitting ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) by the hospital window with his earphones in, looking sad for reasons unknown.
He remembered how once, Seon-jae had cried while sleeping, lying face-down on Ryu Geun-deok’s bed. Eun-chan had watched in shock. Is that... real crying? It was.
He had sat beside the bed, unable to reach, gently patting Seon-jae’s back.
Soon, he would wake up from that long sleep and see Seon-jae again face to face.
He might not remember any of what he saw in his spirit-like state—but maybe that was for the best.
Eun-chan searched his contacts for Seon-jae’s number. Thankfully, it was still saved.
Hesitating for a moment, thumb hovering in the air, he finally typed out a message.
[Hyung, I guess this is how fate changes sometimes—through unpredictable variables. I don’t know what caused it, but maybe it was some greater power. Maybe... like you said, it was something like the heart. That’s a really precious thing, hyung. Don’t forget it.]
He added I love you at the end, but deleted it—it felt too emotionally forward.
He checked the time. 2:59.
His lips felt dry for no reason. He looked toward the door in front of him. In this pitch-dark space, it felt like he was waiting for another world behind that door.
Even now, a part of him wondered if it was all just a dream.
Kwon Eun-chan’s eyes, steeped in darkness, stared straight ahead.
He had passed through time and crossed it again, all to reach this moment.
To reach this reversed future—where everyone was still alive.
Tick.
The second hand moved into place, echoing in the silence.
