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Chapter 8
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“What?”
Startled, I jerked my head toward the direction my mom was pointing.
It was real.
It’s really Rampa Lim, isn’t it?
He was standing a short distance away with someone else.
They say “speak of the tiger and it appears”—and here he was, just when I was thinking about him.
Why is he here?
Did I really have to run into this Australian-Korean kid even in a Seoul hospital, not just Bundang? Could coincidence really happen this often?
My mom, excited to see a familiar (and very handsome) child, seemed about to call out to him—but just in time, our number flashed at the payment counter.
“Oh! It’s our turn! Don’t go anywhere, talk to Rampah or something while I pay. I’ll be right back!”
“Okay.”
I swung my short legs idly while watching my mom hurry off.
Of course, I had no intention of calling out to Rampa Lim.
Just seeing him made my chest feel guilty enough to die.
I glanced sideways at where he was standing.
Near the hospital lobby Christmas tree.
Unlike the 2020s, where there were endless things to enjoy, Christmas in the late 1990s was flashy and extravagant in its own way.
Carols played everywhere, and even hospitals were no exception. The giant tree sparkled brightly in the festive atmosphere.
Wrapped in a scarf, Rampa Lim was talking to someone in front of the tree.
The adult facing him couldn’t be seen from where I stood.
I was about to look away quickly—
Ugh.
Of course. Our eyes met.
Rampa Lim’s eyes widened when he noticed me—
No. Please. Don’t come over. Don’t run—
“Hey! Pixie! Sing-a!”
“…I told you not to call me that!”
“But you do magic, don’t ya?”
“Stop speaking English too…”
“Baby, you do magic. So, Tinkerbell?”
“That’s cringe.”
“Cringe? Your Korean is so hard to understand, girl.”
Shaking his head, Rampa Lim walked over and naturally sat beside me.
Then he leaned in, studying my face carefully one feature at a time.
It was extremely uncomfortable.
“Why?”
“You sick a lot. Still?”
“…? I’m not sick.”
“Lie. You bleed a lot. Every day. I see it with Kyo.”
His Korean was slightly awkward, but his expression and tone were very serious.
Slowly, he continued:
“You very small. If you bleed that much, dangerous. As you know, I’m kind of an athlete. I know body better than you. Your parents must take more care of you.”
“I came to the hospital for that…”
“Clever girl.”
A hand larger than most kids his age gently patted my knit hat.
The boy from the Southern Hemisphere—where Christmas was summer—had hands that were red and cold from Seoul’s winter.
My conscience started prickling again.
I was about to snap something like “Don’t you have gloves?” when—
“Rampah! Where did you go? You scared me.”
“Oh! Sorry, uncle. I met a friend.”
“You have a friend here besides Hyeong-gyo?”
The man who had been talking to him earlier was here.
He looked to be in his mid-30s, a well-dressed, handsome gentleman with a warm smile.
And yes, his long coat practically screamed money.
“Haha, I wondered why you rushed off. So you had such a cute little friend? What’s your name, little lady?”
Wait a second.
Uncle?
Was this the same “uncle” Rampa mentioned when we first met?
Then… is this the landlord?
Slightly wary, I said nothing and just looked up at him.
Rampa Lim answered for me.
“Her—uh, her name is Sing-a. Her guardian stepped away. I’ll stay with her. Uncle, you can go.”
“What? That’s a bit cold, isn’t it? I came all the way here for Rampah. Didn’t you promise to side with your uncle today?”
“No. I didn’t promise. I said ‘okay.’ That’s different.”
Oh?
I quietly studied Rampa Lim again.
So he’s semi-pro even as a kid.
He wasn’t soft on adults at all.
The man, sensing he wasn’t easily swayed, suddenly turned to me.
“And what does our little lady think? It seems like Rampah can’t leave because of you. Uncle actually needs him today. Could you let him go just this once?”
What is this guy talking about?
I quickly glanced at Rampa Lim, then answered cautiously:
“Oppa… Sing-a doesn’t want to be alone… sniff…”
“….”
Ah. So that coat really was suspiciously shiny.
Isn’t this the textbook suspicious guy face?
Child abduction wasn’t exactly rare in this era either.
Fortunately, my answer must have been correct, because Rampa Lim’s expression hardened slightly.
“Uncle An Min. Let’s go. I’ll call you later.”
“An Min uncle?”
Something about that name felt familiar—
I froze.
A chilling sense of déjà vu crept in.
No way. Surely not.
There’s no way that’s possible… right?
My heart started pounding.
Trying to stay calm, I asked carefully:
“Sir… your name is An Min? Your surname is—?”
“Hm? Ah. My name is Je An-min.”
Je An-min?
A wave of cold ran from my feet to my spine.
A memory flashed through my mind.
A scene burned into history.
A dark navy machine roaring like thunder around the circuit.
And always on Rampa Lim’s car—the biggest sponsor logo.
QERA.
And Je An-min.
Anyone from the original timeline would recognize that name instantly.
He was the founder of QERA.
The man standing right in front of me.
The traitor whom regressor Park Min-soo hated more than anything.
“Actually, I am the founder of QERA.”
“I know. The public thinks someone else is the founder. But that man… that fraud isn’t even a co-founder. He’s nothing but a vile traitor.”
“If I ever go back, I won’t let them off… those bastards…”
My face went completely pale as I looked back and forth between Rampa Lim and Je An-min.
I remembered it perfectly.
I could never forget it.
That was the day I had my accident and regressed.
How could I forget those muttered words of that gloomy man, Park Min-soo?
Every syllable of his hatred was still vivid.
Right… QERA was the main sponsor of Rampa’s team.
So it made sense they were connected.
But still—he was his uncle too?
Rampa Lim… your fate is this messed up?
So THIS guy is the main villain of this world?!
