After I Went Crazy in a Parallel World, the Worlds Merged

His father took him to the supermarket. The disgust and guilt on his father's face always made him feel like a thief.

At the little shop, he was short, and his eyes fixed on a piece of candy by the register. It must have been sweet.

The shopkeeper wanted to drum up more business. While haggling with his father, she took it upon herself to slip a piece of candy into his pocket. "You've got a child with you. It's only right to spend a little."

His father was busy bargaining, looking at the shopkeeper with contempt as if she were a scammer and a crook, and putting down her goods. When he saw what she had done, he flew into a rage and slapped her across the face. As she screamed and yelled, he slapped the boy across the face too.

"Damn it! I said ten yuan, and that's all you're getting!"

"Did I tell you to take it? You little thief! You cheap tramp! Put it back!"

He didn't have time to care about his aching face. His mind went blank as he hurriedly pulled out the candy and put it back on the counter, moving as swiftly as a thief caught in the act.

His face burned with pain, not just on the side that had been struck, but all over. Every inch of him exposed to the watching crowd hurt.

He shouldn't have wondered what the candy tasted like. If he didn't want it, didn't care about it, then he wouldn't be treated like a thief.

His mother took him to scrounge leftovers. He said the wrong thing, saying that not eating them would be a waste, and she shot him a vicious glare. In that moment, a belief took root in his mind:

Say little. The more you say, the more you give away. Say less, make fewer mistakes. Better yet, say nothing.

So he grew insecure, sensitive, and repressed, yet remained good for nothing.

One day, he suddenly found himself in a parallel world set four years in the past. Everyone and everything here was exactly the same as in the original world. There was only one difference.

In the original world, when his parents divorced, he went with his mother.

Here, he went with his father.

Everything was turned upside down.

The shameful fake young master of a wealthy family became a bona fide poor kid.

But traveling between parallel worlds felt like a private fantasy, a wild game played by him alone.

Maybe someone would think he could stand on his own two feet and start over?

Ha.

No. He was already rotten. He couldn't peel away the decay to reveal a pure heart. There was only a darker, deeper self beneath.

He arrived at the bar where he worked, carrying drinks through the shifting lights to the gong.

"Would you like a drink, sir?"

Afterward, the gong treated him well. He saw that something was wrong with him and, mature and strong, wanted to comfort him.

But he didn't feel comforted.

He only felt the burning shame on his face.

He could be a good student and a good kid, or a purely vicious, depraved bastard.

But he could never be a lotus, forced by hidden pain to sink into darkness while remaining unstained by the mud.

What was that supposed to be?

Pity? Compassion?

He didn't need any of it.

He was a rotten bastard.

He didn't need anyone to pity him.

He was starting to get tired of the gong.

Back in the real world, he encountered the gong from that world. He looked at the man who had fought and tangled with him in the other world, now standing before him, unfamiliar and composed. With a well-behaved smile and impeccable manners, the man greeted him.

As the gong introduced himself and shook his hand like a stranger, he felt a ridiculous, absurd thrill.

They met face-to-face without recognizing each other, yet he knew all the secrets the other man kept hidden. Only yesterday, they had been entwined together, lost in each other and oblivious to life and death.

It was so amusing. As if he'd played a trick on the whole world.

He liked that absurd, ridiculous feeling.

Later, the worlds merged, and the memories of the parallel world's past four years entered the minds of people in the real world.

He fell apart.

He could play recklessly in a parallel world that didn't matter, but he couldn't bring any of it into the real world.

If the parallel world four years ago was real,

then what if he had already died four years ago?

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Theme: Facing your true self