CH8

As I entered the house, memories started flooding back.

The soot-stained fireplace shows signs of long use and the worn-out sofa.

Above it, the giant deer head that my grandfather caught while hunting is mounted as a trophy on the living room wall, with horizontal lines drawn beneath it.

Those lines were drawn when Dylan and Chloe used to measure their heights in their childhood.

"Stand there. Let's see how tall you've grown," Dylan said with a mischievous smile, looking at Ian standing under the stuffed deer.

"Our son needs to grow a bit more. He's even shorter than Chloe was at his age."

"Huh? When we were his age, I was taller than you!"

"Was that so? I don't quite remember."

"Stop lying. Look, there are even photos to prove it."

Chloe exaggeratedly bickered, trying to welcome the unwelcome Ian, pointing at a frame.

The dust-free frame held a family photo of four, including a young boy and a girl.

Sophia, the grandmother, was smiling brightly in the photo, a stark contrast to her previously dry expression.

Dylan's surprised voice reached Ian's ears as he examined the photo.

"Huh? Mom, when did you get a computer?!"

"A young man in the neighborhood gave it to me for a good price. Came over several times to teach me how to use it."

Dylan's face lit up with joy.

It was a house that had been frozen in time for nine years, to the extent that two toothbrushes were still hanging by the sink.

The fact that there had been changes made him happy.

Dylan pressed the power button, and as the screen flickered to life, he asked, "So, what do you do with this computer?"

"The young man told me to watch YouTube when I'm bored, but it's not easy."

"Oh, is that so?"

Hearing the word "YouTube," Ian quietly entered the room.

As Dylan navigated to the YouTube homepage, a slow-loading screen displayed the recommended and most popular videos, proudly noting the release of 1080p resolution.

Watching YouTube made it sink in that it was indeed the year 2009.

'I should start doing YouTube as well.'

Not that he aims to become a famous YouTuber, but having a portfolio to show to casting directors would be satisfying enough.

The content could simply be about the things he had learned while living as a homeless person.

Sophia, who had come over to see the computer screen and glanced at Ian, tapped Dylan on the shoulder.

"That's not what you came here for. Come on out."

"Why are you rushing?"

As Sophia almost pushed a resisting Dylan back into the living room, she changed the subject,

"How's the store doing? With the financial crisis and all, I hear it's tough for everyone these days."

"Don't worry about it. Our son played a big role, and it's going really well. Oh, I brought all the newspaper articles to show you. Want to take a look?"

Sophia, about to move excitedly, stopped Dylan with a hand and glanced at the clock.

"It's okay. I have some errands to run, so I'll be out. I'll probably be back around dinner."

"Where are you going? Should I come with you?"

"No need. You've had a long drive here; why bother coming along? Just rest."

The mood of the couple turned sour at the news of Sophia heading out after they had gone through the trouble of bringing Ian along.

Without paying any mind to their expressions, Sophia left, and Chloe sighed briefly before hugging Ian.

"I'm really sorry for only showing you the unpleasant sides. She's not usually this indifferent."

Chloe smiled bitterly, looking at the man in the photo who bore a striking resemblance to Dylan.

"If only she hadn't had that accident on her way to see you…"

"Chloe."

With a stern face, Dylan tapped Ian's back as he yawned.

"If you're tired, go upstairs and sleep. You know where you're supposed to sleep, right?"

This worked out. Ian had been wondering how to get some time alone.

Climbing the creaky wooden stairs to the second floor, Ian perked up his ears.

"Phew, mother was originally against adopting Ian from Korea. That's why father came alone that day."

"It was because she thought there were plenty of children in foster care in the US who needed homes, so why bother bringing one all the way from Korea."

"Anyway, it's too much, even if she is my mother."

This was something Dylan had mentioned when he was drunk.

A woman who suddenly lost her beloved husband in an accident needed someone to blame. And there was an easy target.

Though it was unfair to be disliked for irrational reasons, Ian understood Sophia.

'In the face of the grief of losing family, reason becomes meaningless.'

Having experienced loss himself, he could empathize.

With a bitter smile, Ian took a deep breath.

"So, I've decided not to feel that kind of sadness anymore."

Ian looked around the second floor once again.

There were two rooms on the second floor: the small room where he slept and another room that was always locked.

Standing in front of the door with a sturdy lock, he had always been curious about this room but was told not to worry about it. 

He had entered it only once before.

Today, of the past.

Ian rummaged through his pocket and pulled out two pieces of wire.

"Shall we give it a try?"

Learning bad skills from a former pickpocket homeless person always comes in handy.

After shaping the two wires and inserting them into the keyhole, in just over a minute,

Click.

The lock opened, and the door swung open, releasing stale air from the slightly neglected room.

The first thing that caught his eye was the photos decorated throughout the room, boasting proudly of the hunted game.

These were traces of a grandfather who occasionally enjoyed trophy hunting, and the most crucial trace hung on the wall.

'A shotgun'

Climbing onto the table to take out the hunting shotgun, 

It wasn't light. 

The gun, marked by human hands, imparted a chilling sensation as if to remind him it was a lethal weapon.

Ian placed the gun and the ammunition found in a drawer onto the table.

"Phew… It's a bit worrisome, but it can't be helped."

The gun was rusted, and the lifespan of the poorly maintained ammunition could have already expired.

It might not fire at all, but there was no other option.

In California, where gun ownership is around 30%, Dylan and Chloe belonged to the 70% without guns.

'And this should only be used as a last resort.'

Ian bit his lip.

The thought of possibly having to shoot and kill someone made his heart race.

Was he scared of killing someone? 

Of course. 

Having lived as a homeless person, he had seen enough death, but watching and doing were different things.

If he killed someone, there was also the worry that his future as an actor could be over. 

The label of a murderer wouldn't easily fade.

'But that's not what I'm really afraid of.'

The most terrifying thing was the possibility of his parents' perceptions changing. 

Could they still treat a murderer with the same warmth as their own child?

Despite rationalizing that it would be okay, the saying that you never know what might happen to people haunted him.

Ian gripped the gun tightly.

"Still, if it's necessary, I'll have to do it."

It would be better to be abandoned than to go through that sadness again.

The hesitation vanished from Ian's eyes.

After loading the gun, Ian went downstairs and said to Dylan, "Dad, can I borrow your phone? I'll just need it for a moment."

After receiving the phone from a puzzled Dylan, Ian went back upstairs.

As he made the necessary preparations and occasionally checked outside, Ian flinched.

He saw a man in an oversized hoodie. He was not just a passerby.

'If he were just a passerby, he wouldn't be lurking around the house like that.'

Hearing his heart thumping, Ian opened the door to the room with the gun.

***

-Knock, knock, knock

Startled by the sound of knocking on the car window after arriving home, Sophia turned her head.

Relief washed over her as she recognized the face.

"Steven, what brings you here at this time?"

"I was taking a walk around the neighborhood and saw your car coming in, so I thought I'd say hello. Did you find what you were looking for on YouTube?"

Steven, the only person who knew what she was looking for on YouTube, asked, and Sophia answered with a slight embarrassment,

"Yes, thanks to you, I found it."

"That's good to hear. But it looks like you have visitors today?"

"Today's the birthday I mentioned. So, the kids came over."

Responding, Sophia got out of the car without noticing Steven's suddenly anxious face.

Pulling out her house keys, Sophia asked, "Do you want to come in for a bit? They seemed a bit curious about you today."

"..."

"Steven?"

With no response coming back, Sophia turned with a puzzled look, only to feel a cold touch on her face.

It was a gun pointed at her head.

"Steven?!"

"If you don't want to die, please be quiet. I, I didn't want to do this. If it wasn't for the damn debt, I wouldn't have done this, you know?"

Sophia tried to speak as calmly as possible to Steven, who was anxiously spilling out his words.

"…Is it because of money? If it's that urgent, just wait a moment. I'll get the money for you."

"Don't give me that crap. I won't believe any of it."

Steven gritted his teeth, thinking of Sophia's family inside the house.

It was inevitable. 

"Shut up and just open the door."

As she was forcefully dragged, Sophia steeled her heart. 

If this continued, everyone could be in danger.

Not just her two children.

'And that child.'

She had wronged that poor child for too long. 

She had tried to make amends, albeit too late, but God did not give the foolish old woman another chance.

It was regrettable that she couldn't give the present in the car, but perhaps she didn't even deserve to give it, considering what had happened.

With a bitter smile, Sophia swung her hand holding the keys.

"What?!"

Watching the keys fly into the bushes, Steven was shocked, and Sophia screamed.

"There's a robber! It's a robber! Kids, never open the door, no matter what happens, understand?!"

"You damn woman!"

The sound of the trigger being pulled creaked.

Hoping that nothing would happen to her children, Sophia tightly closed her eyes.

Bang-

A gunshot sounded.

After a brief silence, Steven screamed.

"What, what?!"

It wasn't him who had fired.

Startled by the sudden gunshot, Steven looked around as someone shouted in a rough, metallic voice.

"Are you not going to get out of my house right now?! Get out before I kill you!"

A chilling scream filled with terrible anger echoed.

Feeling a suffocating pressure as if his heart was being gripped, Steven trembled.

Hearing the sound of a gun being loaded, Steven, paralyzed with fear, tried to run away when another voice called out.

"Ian?! Ian! What are you doing there?!"

Turning towards the voice, Steven saw.

A kid on the first-floor roof, holding a gun and looking frustrated.

'Got played.'

Realizing he had been outsmarted by a child, Steven's rage was futile against the kid's quicker actions.

The child threw the gun he was holding.

As the metal object fell from above, Steven instinctively raised his arms to protect himself, and the kid leaped off the roof.

Thump!

"Ugh!"

Steven was knocked down by a kick to the chest, and Ian rolled on the ground.

Ian groaned.

His whole body ached. 

'Damn the feeling that bad luck never missed; if only the dud hadn't misfired, I wouldn't have had to do this.'

"Ian! Kid! Are you okay?!"

Lying sprawled on the ground, Ian reached out his hand towards Sophia, looking down at him with shocked eyes.

"…It really is a good evening."

Seeing his parents rush through the open door, Ian smiled brightly despite the pain.

It was indeed a good evening.

Except for the cracked leg.