"Who is the current President of South Korea?"
The words hung in the air. Heavy. Cold. Terrifying.
It was the first question that strange, masked man asked me. He stood there, looming over us, waiting for an answer that would decide if we lived or died.
Me.
I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. I am just a kid. A kid who has only lived in an abandoned park in the middle of a deep, dark forest for nine years, from my childhood. That park was my whole world. The rustling leaves, the cold dirt, the broken swings—that was all I knew.
I am a kid who has never seen the outside world. Not once. I didn't know what a "city" really looked like. I didn't know what a "street" was.
I am a kid who has never seen another human being except his father in his entire life. My father's face was the only face I knew. His voice was the only voice I ever heard. Until today. Until this nightmare started.
How?
The word screamed inside my head.
How would a kid like me, raised in complete isolation, ever be able to answer this question?
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Thump. Thump. Thump. It was so loud I thought the masked man could hear it.
I didn't even know the meaning of "President" or "South korea."
The words were alien to me. They were just sounds. Empty noises. "President." "South korea." They meant nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was like he was speaking a language from another planet.
I didn't know... but I had to think.
Think.
I clenched my fists. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted iron. I forced the panic down. I had to push through the fear.
Focus, I told myself. Focus or you die.
I thought: A 'President' is probably a title. It sounds big. It sounds important. Like "King" or "Boss." It must be a title given to the person with the highest authority. The one who makes the rules. The one everyone else listens to.
And South korea...
I rolled the word around in my mind. South korea.
I think it is the name of a place. Just like this city has the name Seoul—I learned that word only an hour ago—South korea must be a bigger place. A huge place that holds many cities.
So, it means South korea is a place, and I have to tell him who holds the highest authority there.
I tried to relate it to the only life I knew. Just like in our park, my father had absolute authority. He decided when we ate. He decided where we slept. He protected us. He was the law.
So, this 'President' must be like the father of that place. The father of South korea.
I was thinking all of this—no, I was aggressively pushing my brain to its absolute limits. I felt my head throbbing. My veins were popping out. I wasn't just thinking; I was burning through energy, desperate to find a connection.
I thought all this in one single second.
Time seemed to slow down. The dust motes floating in the light beams froze. My brain rushed toward the answer. I was hunting for clues in every possible interaction I had in my entire life. I dug through memories. I dug through conversations.
From the park to this cold, bloody room. From my childhood nights by the fire to this very moment of terror.
My brain felt like... I don't know. I can't tell. It was out of my control. It was moving on its own. It was like a machine that had been turned on for the first time, spinning faster and faster, heating up, ready to break.
Then, I heard it.
The silence shattered.
The first thing I heard after the question was that girl screaming.
"It is impossible for a kid like him to answer a question like that!" she shouted in panic.
Her voice was high and sharp. It hurt my ears. She was terrified. She looked at me with wide, watery eyes, pity mixed with horror. She thought I was done for. She thought I was already dead.
"Shut up!!"
The masked man screamed.
Loud. Very loud.
It wasn't just a yell; it was a physical blow. The air in the room shook. It was like thunder crashing from the sky, but the thunder wasn't in the clouds—it was right in front of me. It vibrated in my bones.
"We are in South korea! I live here, and even I don't know who the President is!" the girl cried out. She was shaking, her hands trembling as she pointed at me. "I never got time to watch the news. So how can a kid like him can ever answer that?"
She sounded like she was trying to help me. She was trying to tell the monster that the game was unfair. That the question was broken.
But the only thing I felt was that she was making things worse.
Stop, I wanted to scream. Stop talking. You are making him angry.
I could see it clearly in the masked man's aura. The air around him grew darker. heavier. Spikier. A killing intent washed over us like a cold bucket of water.
He is about to use that tool again... again...
My eyes darted to his hand. That black, metal tool. The one that made the loud bangs. The one that made holes in people.
He is going to use that tool again.
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. If I don't answer, he will use his tool. Maybe he will use his tool on me. Maybe he would use his tool on the girl. Or maybe he would use his tool on her father again.
I have to stop him. I have to. I have to.
The pressure was crushing me. My lungs felt small. I needed an answer. Any answer. I needed a name.
Think, dad. Think. What did you say? Who did you talk about?
A memory flashed. A campfire. My father's smiling face. He was telling a story. A story about a friend. A friend he respected.
That's it.
It was a gamble. A crazy, stupid gamble. But it was the only bullet I had left in my own gun.
"[Kim Hae-Won]," I said without thinking twice.
I blurted it out. The name left my lips before I could doubt it.
I looked at the ground, my eyes squeezed shut. I braced my body. I tensed every muscle. I was waiting for another BANG. I was waiting for the pain. I was waiting for one of us to die.
Please, I prayed. Please be right.
But the only thing I heard was utter silence.
No bang. No scream. No laughter.
Just silence. Heavy, thick silence.
Both the girl and the masked man had stopped speaking. The room was dead quiet. The only sound was the ragged breathing of the girl's father in the corner.
Slowly, very slowly, I opened one eye. Then the other.
I looked up.
I saw the masked man stunned to his core. He wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing. He stood there like a statue, his mask staring down at me.
I saw the girl—she was shocked, her mouth open in surprise. She looked from me to the man, then back to me. She couldn't believe what she had just heard.
I looked at the masked man again. His shoulders started to shake.
Is he angry? Did I get it wrong?
And then, he started laughing.
"Ha... Hahaha... HAHAHAHA!"
Like a madman. It was a scratchy, terrifying sound. He was laughing to himself. He looked... happy. No, not just happy. Ecstatic.
He started dancing with joy. He hopped from one foot to the other, spinning the gun in his hand. It was a grotesque, twisted dance.
I didn't know why, but a thought hit me. A small spark of hope in the darkness.
I think I answered right.
"Is that... the correct answer?" the girl asked the masked man slowly.
Her voice was full of doubt and fear. She sounded tiny. Tears were moving down her cheeks, leaving shiny tracks in the dust on her face. She looked at me like I was a ghost.
The masked man was still dancing. Twisting and turning. But hearing the girl, he screamed.
"Yessss!"
He threw his arms up in the air. He looked ready to explode with excitement.
"It is a miracle! How did he know that? How? How?" He pointed the tool at the ceiling, then at me, then at the girl. "It's proof! It is proof that he really is the God of our generation!"
He said all this with extreme excitement. His voice cracked. He was panting, breathless from his own joy. "God of our generation." The words echoed in the small room.
I felt a shiver run down my spine. I am not a God. I am just a kid who wants to live.
As the masked man was celebrating for a reason I didn't understand, I heard her voice again.
"How did you know who the current President of South korea is?"
She was in utter disbelief. She leaned forward, ignoring the danger, just needing to know.
And honestly? So was I.
I was amazed I was still alive. My hands were still trembling, but the fear was slowly turning into relief.
The masked man stopped dancing. He froze.
Snap.
He looked at me, eyes wide behind the mask, hungry to know the truth behind my answer. He leaned in close. The smell of metal and old sweat came off him. He was desperate for the answer.
I started to explain. My voice was shaky, but I forced the words out.
"I remembered... my father used to talk about his friend. His name was Kim Hae-Won."
The memory became clearer now. The firelight dancing in my father's eyes. The respect in his voice.
"My father always used to praise his friend," I said.
I wondered why, though? My father was strong. He was smart. Why did he praise this man so much?
"My father once told me that he would one day become a true leader," I continued.
I didn't think much of it back then. It was just boring grown-up talk. I wanted to play tag. I wanted to climb trees. But the words had stuck in my brain, hidden deep down, waiting for this exact moment to save my life.
"So... I thought if my father had that much belief in his friend, he must be a successful leader by now."
I looked at them. I looked at the crazy man. I looked at the crying girl.
"So I just named my father's friend, hoping that he would be the current President of South korea. Not knowing if he really was."
I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. It sounded so stupid when I said it out loud.
What a complete moron I am. I gambled our lives on a campfire story.
"That's how I came to know about the current President of South korea."
I said all this and took a heavy sigh of relief. The air rushed out of my lungs. My shoulders dropped. I thought it was all over. I thought the test was done.
I looked at the girl and her father. He was still bleeding. The red pool under him was getting bigger. The girl was crying, but she was staring at me. Looking at me like I was something, not someone. Like I was a puzzle she couldn't solve.
"Marvelous!" The masked man screamed.
He clapped his hands together. Smack. Smack. Smack.
"Absolutely Divine!" He screamed again.
"Spectacular!"
He laughed vigorously. He grabbed his own head, shaking it as if the joy was too much to contain.
"Do you know who your father really was, kid? You have no idea who you really are!"
He came close to me. Too close. I could feel his heat. He leaned down to my ear, whispering this with a hiss.
Then he jumped back up and started laughing again. Bouncing off the walls.
To be serious... I really wanted to know.
The question burned in my chest. Who was he?
The real identity of my father. Who was he really? We lived in a park. We wore rags. We ate what we caught. But he knew the President of South korea? He knew the most powerful person in this place?
And what is the relationship of this crazy masked guy with my father? How does he know about him?
I wanted to know it all. I wanted to grab the masked man and shake the answers out of him. But I couldn't. I was small. And he had the tool.
"I won't say that answer was a fluke, kid. Great job," the masked man said with an excited voice. He sounded like a teacher praising a student. A twisted, deadly teacher.
I felt happy. A small, warm feeling in my chest. I felt relief wash over me for answering the first question. I did it. I survived round one.
Then, it hit me.
The cold reality came crashing back down.
There are still two more questions left.
My stomach twisted into a knot.
Two more questions that would decide my fate. The fate of this family. If I fail, my journey ends here. If I fail, the promise I made to my father would be broken. I would die in this room, and no one would ever know I existed.
So I have to... no, I must answer all questions correctly. Otherwise...
I squeezed my fists tight again. I am ready, I lied to myself.
I was thinking all this when he asked me another impossible question.
He said, "Hey kid. Here is your second question."
I looked at him, waiting. The air in the room grew heavy again. The tension was back, tighter than before. I remembered that five minutes had already passed. Time was running out.
He smiled. I couldn't see his mouth, but I could hear the smile in his voice. A cruel, playful smile.
"What is the distance of the moon from us?" he asked.