Chapter 1: Coo (1)

Something tickled my skin, causing my eyes to open involuntarily.

The first thing I saw was a beige ceiling and a dolphin mobile spinning slowly.

And the crib, surrounded by wooden pillars.

It was a somewhat unexpected scene.

As a doctor, I didn't believe in life after death, but upon waking, I found myself in a clear afterlife.

As my senses revived, my consciousness became increasingly clear.

I began to think more concretely about my current situation.

First, I was dead but had come back to life, and the place where I had come back to life seemed to be heaven, not hell.

There would be no mobile in hell.

Even if there were a mobile in hell, it would certainly not be dolphins but some terrifying monster.

Lying still and watching the mobile spin like a carousel, I felt a bit drowsy.

'Well, at least I earned my keep, right?'

Thinking that I had been reborn in heaven, my life didn't seem so meaningless anymore.

In my previous life, I was a thoracic surgeon.

I took care of my patients with a sense of mission and responsibility.

If asked about my abilities as a thoracic surgeon, I could only say, somewhat embarrassed, that I was a bit lacking.

From my internship days, my colleagues and seniors would always come to me when something happened, but not in a good way.

My nickname in the thoracic surgery department was "Turtle" or "Dunce."

My reputation gradually improved as I became a resident, a fellow, and an assistant professor, but compared to my peers, my growth was slow.

'Something seems a bit off, though.'

I finally snapped out of my old memories and felt a sense of unease as I examined my body.

First, my head felt heavy.

My skin was as white as jade, and my flesh was as soft as silk.

My fingers were tiny, and the most shocking thing was that I was wearing a diaper.

Good heavens, a diaper!

I, a middle-aged man in my mid-forties, had suddenly become a one-year-old infant.

Shocked by this fact, I quickly composed myself, as a surgeon would.

It seems that in heaven, you start life over as a baby.

I wondered why I had to wear a diaper even in heaven, but what could I do?

It was the only connection to my previous self, who had died a terrible death.

Perhaps an angel would appear soon to explain things.

The only thing I could do was lie still, so I fell back into my memories.

* * *

Kang Tae-sub.

Even before I met the human trash who deserved to be burned to death, my life had its ups and downs.

My father ran a secondhand bookstore and wrote novels.

My mother worked as a nurse, and I was born as their only child.

My childhood was smooth, with no significant events to remember.

However, around the time I started elementary school and began to mature, our family's fortunes began to decline sharply.

The secondhand bookstore, which was the foundation of our family's economy, was suddenly sold, and our house became a single room.

My father, who had given up his pen, fell from a novelist to a day laborer.

My mother, who had quit her job as a nurse, stopped smiling.

I learned the reason for our family's sudden collapse a bit later.

Although our family's economy had collapsed, I grew up like any other child.

I had good relationships with my peers and did well in school.

The contents of the life reports I received at the end of each school year were always similar.

However, when adolescence arrived, the smooth sailing of my life began to be disrupted by rough waves.

It was around my second year of high school.

I started hanging out with the typical delinquents.

I wandered around late at night, smoked, and occasionally drank.

For a while, I even blamed my parents for raising me in poverty.

I still can't forget the moment my parents, called to the school for a bullying incident, shed tears.

As my behavior worsened, my grades naturally plummeted.

But with some divine intervention, I quickly regained my senses.

I burned through my senior year and managed to get into medical school.

My parents were happier than anyone, and seeing their joy, I felt a sense of pride.

I thought everything was finally falling into place.

But it was all an illusion.

After completing two years of pre-med, my father passed away.

The cause of death was unstable angina.

My father, who was undergoing CABG (coronary artery bypass graft) surgery, died on the operating table.

At that time, OPCAB (off-pump coronary artery bypass) was not yet well-developed.

Another bitter taste of life.

At the funeral, I looked up at the sky and made a resolution.

I would become an excellent thoracic surgeon.

I would save patients from dying pointlessly on the operating table, like my father.

My burning heart led me to thoracic surgery.

The life of a thoracic surgeon, which I started with great enthusiasm, was far from smooth. I, who had a naturally weak chest, trembled every time I treated a patient.

I suddenly developed a tremor in my hands, which I never had until I graduated from medical school.

It was only later that I realized I was trembling due to the stress and burden of being too emotionally involved with my patients.

Despite being treated as a failure, I managed to complete my residency in thoracic surgery at Shinwon University.

I became a full-fledged specialist and succeeded in somewhat dispelling the harsh evaluations of the public.

Just as I was hoping to finally see the light, the second nightmare hit me.

Kang Tae-sub.

A wolf in sheep's clothing, a mosquito that drained human blood, became the head of the thoracic surgery department.

Did he see through my naivety at first glance?

A month after his appointment, Kang Tae-sub called me aside and said:

Kang Tae-sub was straightforward.

I fell for his sweet talk.

Until then, Kang Tae-sub was the only one who had recognized and trusted me, apart from my parents.

I gave my soul to Kang Tae-sub.

I wrote papers for him all night, operated on patients he couldn't because he was busy, and even handed over a new surgical technique I had discovered.

When the new surgical technique was recognized by the academic community, Kang Tae-sub became one of the top thoracic surgeons in Korea.

What happened to me, who had devoted myself to Kang Tae-sub?

I was discarded like a used tissue.

It was a classic case of being kicked out after being used.

Kang Tae-sub wanted to distance himself from me, his dark shadow, and erase me from his memory.

He didn't want the medical community to know that all his achievements were the result of my blood and sweat.

While Kang Tae-sub was basking in the glory of the academic community, I was inexplicably demoted to Busan.

'This guy tricked me!'

It took me six months in Busan to realize my situation.

I confronted Kang Tae-sub on my day off, but he coldly laughed at me.

I was coldly dismissed and gnashed my teeth in frustration.

I began to collect evidence of Kang Tae-sub's misdeeds frantically.

- Damn... crazy...

In the middle of my work, a deflated sound escaped my lips.

I couldn't find any evidence to expose Kang Tae-sub's corruption or my own achievements.

Had Kang Tae-sub anticipated my betrayal?

All my research materials had already been transferred to him.

The hands that had developed the new surgical technique were now empty.

It was clear who the medical community would side with in this situation.

I fell into a deep pit again.

There seemed to be no place for redemption.

All I could do was blame myself for having given everything to Kang Tae-sub.

One day, while I was suffering like a sick chicken.

Driving with a dazed expression, I was hit by a truck that had crossed the center line and died.

It was maddeningly futile.

Maddeningly resentful.

Maddeningly foolish.

Looking back now, I wasn't entirely blameless.

I was too gentle, unable to say a harsh word to anyone.

I trusted others to the point of being naive, rather than being stubborn.

I was miserly in believing in myself.

Most importantly, I wasn't unskilled in thoracic surgery.

The mistakes I made early in my internship and the resulting poor evaluations delayed my discovery of my talent.

If I had no talent, I wouldn't have survived in thoracic surgery or developed a new surgical technique.

But right at that moment!

Creak.

The sound of a door opening, followed by footsteps.

My consciousness, which had been rewinding the past, instantly returned to the present.

An angel must have finally appeared to explain my situation.

"Our Belief is so good. Didn't even cry?"

"I don't know who he takes after to be so well-behaved."

"Who else? He looks just like you, handsome."

The cheerful voices of a couple.

The faces above the crib were familiar.

'This... this can't be!'

I frowned, trying to identify the angels who were looking at me with affectionate eyes.

Good heavens! Is this a dream? Am I awake?

The angels turned out to be my parents.

The young faces of my parents from faded photo albums.

For a moment, I doubted my eyes.

This was an unexpected situation that surpassed the limits of my brain.

"Shall we hold our Belief a bit?"

Father picked me up with both arms. As I was lifted out of the crib, I finally realized the true nature of the place I thought was heaven.

This was my parents' honeymoon home.

An old CRT TV, a splendid mother-of-pearl chest, and an old matchbox.

I even checked the calendar, as if to confirm.

September 10, 1980, was circled.

So, I hadn't been reborn in heaven but had reincarnated as a one-year-old version of myself.

My head spun, my chest tightened, and my hands and feet trembled.

Even I, who had remained calm when a patient with a car mirror stuck in their heart came to the emergency room, couldn't maintain my composure at this moment.

Shocked, I cried out:

"Belief!"