L*st and Death

Baekgyeong climbed into the passenger seat of the sedan and accepted the ticket from Chief Kim. What he handed over wasn’t a direct flight from New York to Incheon, but a ticket with a layover in LA.

“This was the only Incheon-bound ticket I could get right now. It’s peak travel season, so I barely managed to find even this. Please bear with the inconvenience. Everyone lives like this.”

Chief Kim added a completely unnecessary remark, grating on Baekgyeong’s nerves. The Chief Kim in Baekgyeong’s memory had always been cautious, like someone walking on glass—but today, he behaved like a man with a resignation letter burning a hole in his pocket, moving with zero hesitation.

“You think I’m the kind of guy who gets mad over not getting to fly private?”

Chief Kim let out a sharp sigh and answered curtly.

“You’ve always gotten mad over small things.”

“I’ll remember that little comment for the next twenty years. Just wait till I get back.”

Unfazed by Baekgyeong’s warning, Chief Kim checked his watch.

“We should leave now. You’ll miss your flight at this rate.”

Baekgyeong’s flight plans had changed abruptly. Originally, with his brother and father’s departure delayed by a day due to company issues, Baekgyeong was to take his mother’s private jet from New York and arrive at Incheon Airport ahead of them. But during routine maintenance, a critical defect was discovered in the aircraft, and so he had to take a commercial flight with a layover in LA.

The domestic terminal they arrived at, driven by Chief Kim, was eerily quiet. It was close to midnight, after all. His luggage consisted of two phones, a charger, sunglasses, his wallet, passport, and a few miscellaneous items. A secretary stationed in Korea had already prepared all his daily necessities and clothing changes in advance.

“Wait! Take this, too.”

Chief Kim called out urgently just as Baekgyeong was about to pass through the departure gate. He turned around, annoyed.

“What is it?”

“I’m worried since I can’t go with you. It’s instructions for the layover. Once you land at LAX, just follow the printout...”

“Forget it. You think I can’t handle a damn layover? Just go take care of the old man.”

Despite his words, Baekgyeong took the printout from Chief Kim with a scowl. With a simple wave, he passed through security and walked straight to the gate. Through the massive glass windows, he spotted the aircraft connected to the jet bridge. It wasn’t even a mid-sized plane—more like something between small and mid-sized.

“You’ve got to be kidding. You want me to get on that thing?”

So this was what Chief Kim meant by "bear with the inconvenience"?

Baekgyeong muttered, frowning. The aircraft looked like it couldn’t seat thirty people, let alone a hundred. For a flight from upstate New York to LA, it was ridiculously tiny. Baekgyeong stared at it with growing unease.

He didn’t want to cram himself into that chicken coop of a plane. But then he thought—this might just be one of those once-in-a-lifetime moments. Taking a picture of the plane beyond the window, he sent it to Siron. The read notification disappeared instantly—Siron must have been holding his phone.

Spotting the crew clearing obstacles from the aisle in preparation for boarding, Baekgyeong quickly called him.

“I’m flying economy to LA.”

“Why so quiet?”

Siron sighed heavily and asked,

“I am. With a layover. New York to LA, then LA to Incheon.”

“Suddenly broke down. But your voice doesn’t sound great.”

“Nothing bad happened, right?”

Siron held his breath, then continued, like he was straining to suppress his temper.

A smile broke through Baekgyeong’s face, and he blurted impulsively,

“Can I go on national TV and announce I’ll live the rest of my life atoning to Yoon Siron?”

Siron didn’t respond—he just hung up. Baekgyeong stared at the screen, still smiling, then finally picked up his bag. He didn’t want to cram his huge body into that tiny plane, but boarding had started and there was no time to hesitate. He followed behind the tired-looking businessmen filing through the gate.

Just as he feared, the inside of the plane was oppressively cramped. The space between seats was so tight that his 195cm frame had to twist and contort just to fit. Worse, the cabin felt overheated—as if the heater was on—and the low ceiling made it suffocating.

To think he had to spend five hours in this flying coffin. The claustrophobia that plagued him early in his psychiatric hospitalization threatened to return. His breath quickened—at this rate, his expiration date wouldn’t be seven years from now but seven minutes.

While Baekgyeong fought a silent war with himself, muttering curses like a mantra, the plane slowly prepared for takeoff. Listening to the flight attendant’s safety instructions, he reached for his phone to switch to airplane mode. But then—ding—a notification popped up. New email.

“Excuse me, we’ll be taking off shortly. Wi-Fi will be available once we reach cruising altitude, so please check later. For now, all devices must be switched to airplane mode.”

The flight attendant stood beside his seat with a soft smile, clearly waiting for him to comply. Baekgyeong was tempted to check the message, but this wasn’t a private jet where he could do as he pleased. With a sigh, he made the switch.

Once the attendant strapped into the jump seat, the plane began to accelerate down the runway. Compared to a large aircraft, the engine’s roar and the vibration of the fuselage were overwhelming.

“Please bear with the inconvenience. Everyone lives like this.”

Recalling Chief Kim’s words, Baekgyeong scoffed. What did it matter how everyone else lived? This was an experience he never wanted to repeat. With a grimace, he glanced at the email preview hovering at the top of his screen.

Diggy-hyung!

I found something weird.

The hacker didn’t just access CEO Choi’s computer through a proxy IP. They connected multiple times to other Vile Group computers too...

“Oh, fuck me.”

It was like being forced out just before climax—an unbearable sensation. Only part of the message showed, driving him insane. Baekgyeong buried his face in his palm. The seat felt like a coffin, the air stiflingly hot and dry. He was suddenly reminded of his early alpha days, bound to a hospital bed in a special material restraint suit. A panic attack felt imminent. He desperately needed a glass of ice-cold champagne.

As if the airplane read his mind, a chime signaled that they’d reached cruising altitude. A message followed, asking passengers to lower their tray tables for beverage service and announcing the start of in-flight Wi-Fi.

“I’ll have a champagne, ice-cold and extra carbonated.”

The flight attendant offered an apologetic smile and shook her head.

“Sorry, we don’t serve champagne. Only water and orange juice are available.”

With a long breath of despair, Baekgyeong gave in. In this flying prison, even a single drink to take the edge off wasn’t allowed. He reluctantly asked for orange juice, and the attendant placed a plastic cup of it carefully on his tray.

Sipping it to quench his thirst and cool his burning chest, Baekgyeong connected to Wi-Fi and reopened Park Daniel’s email.

...The hacker didn’t just access CEO Choi’s computer. They connected many times to other Vile Group computers as well. Looks like they were super bold, relying entirely on their auto-delete program. Luckily, it wasn’t perfect—we managed to preserve a fair amount of digital evidence.

They even transferred files from CEO Choi’s computer to one of the others. There’s also a chat log via some weird link. The contents were encrypted, so we couldn’t read them, but the connection was definitely suspicious. The computer used was SAMUEL KIM’s workstation. So either he is the hacker—or he helped them. If we squeeze him, we might get something.

SAMUEL KIM.

The name felt oddly familiar. Baekgyeong blinked slowly, trying to place it. A few seconds later, the face clicked into place—but something felt off in his body. He began to suspect the drink he’d just had.

The numbness started at the tip of his tongue and spread across his face. He tried to open his mouth and speak, but his lips wouldn’t move. No voice came out. His body stopped responding altogether. Even the strength to hold his head up was gone, and it fell forward with a dull thunk against the seat in front of him.

Kim Samuel? Samuel Kim? Who was that again?

And then, like a flash, the image of Chief Kim, who had handed him the ticket with that disinterested expression, returned to his mind—his American name had been Samuel Kim.

Only then did the thought hit him: this was all Chief Kim’s doing.

Chief Kim, you motherfucking son of a bitch.

Baekgyeong cursed him with the last bit of awareness he had—but it was already too late. Powerless against the wave of drowsiness, he slipped under, consciousness vanishing completely.

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