If I Don’t Earn 1 Trillion Won, My Regression Ends - Chapter 11

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 11

I thought to myself. Is this really reality?

Could this be a dream?

Getting hit by a truck and regressing to the past, meeting the childhood of a world-class athlete with an annual salary reaching ten billion, and now running away from a crime scene together with him.

All of this felt so surreal.

It felt like a dream from one night, so only the sound of my own panting breath felt real in this moment.

‘Or maybe not?’

This thunderous heartbeat might be real too.

But this sound isn’t coming from me. It’s from the body pressed against mine.

Rampa Lim, whose breath was hot but hands were cold, whispered.

“Don’t worry.”

He kept whispering to me.

“It’s okay.”

The mountain forest was terrifyingly dark, cold, and eerily quiet as if someone might appear from behind us at any moment.

So I couldn’t relax at all.

My fear had been dominating me without stopping even once since I woke up in this unfamiliar place.

Rampa Lim’s arms pulled me tighter in his embrace.

“I have good eyesight. Very good. Don’t worry.”

He wasn’t talking to me.

He was talking to himself.

“It’s starting to snow. It’s a bit brighter. So I can see well.”

After running for a long time, Rampa Lim stopped to catch his breath for a while, then crawled into some place while making his footsteps even quieter.

It was a small dirt hole under a low rock.

Fallen leaves that sank deep covered the entrance, and it was so cramped that even our two immature bodies couldn’t sit side by side.

It was only big enough if Rampa Lim crouched down and held me in his arms.

“We’re going to hide here.”

“….”

“It won’t be short. You have to endure it.”

Only then could I properly see Rampa Lim’s eyes.

Those silver-gray eyes.

Rampa Lim’s biological father is a white mixed-race and his biological mother is Korean.

This person was born as a European quarter, and by very low probability of fate, came to have very beautiful colored eyes.

Formula One drivers wear helmets that cover half their faces, revealing only their eyes.

Even though countless races were repeated over and over, no more beautiful eyes than these appeared in that long history.

Everyone in the world lamented that they could never see those eyes again. Painfully, they lamented.

I would have felt the same way.

“You can do it, right?”

“…Yeah.”

“Clever girl.”

So I will keep looking at these eyes.

While I can, so I won’t regret it later.

Rampa Lim embraced me once again.

His arms, firm but still not fully grown, trembled like aspen leaves, and his chin rubbing against the top of my head was also shaking.

He must desperately need me too.

Because people become strong in front of the weak, and you can’t collapse when you have something to protect.

I didn’t want to cry, but being incompetent, immature, and having wasted my regression, I could barely manage not to make a sound, let alone not cry.

From fear, from relief, from guilt.

Tears flowed down like I was broken.

Rampa Lim didn’t scold me to be quiet or stop me from crying.

He just held me tighter.

♧

‘How did it come to this?’

This is so unfair.

I thought the only obstacle in my future life would be the 10 billion dollars!

Can the genre suddenly change like this?

I had all sorts of thoughts, but when I thought about it carefully, accidents originally come like accidents.

Who gets into a traffic accident after being warned? Aren’t I living proof, having been hit by a truck and regressed on an ordinary commute to work?

Thinking that way made me feel slightly less wronged.

‘Let’s just think that I’m incredibly unlucky….’

Outside the cave, white snow that had arrived just in time kept falling without stopping.

Thanks to the continuously accumulating snow, we seemed unlikely to be exposed. Even from inside the pit, we could only check outside through a small gap that Rampa Lim dug out a little.

‘We won’t be discovered and murdered.’

I finally felt a little relieved.

Because dying of starvation or dehydration is better than being murdered.

“Are you thirsty?”

“No… what about you, oppa?”

The behavior shown by this nine-year-old Korean-Australian kid was so admirable it was almost awe-inspiring, so the word “oppa” now came out smoothly without anyone telling me to say it.

“I’m fine too.”

Rampa Lim, who had been silent for a moment, laughs as if thinking of something. When he laughed, my body in his arms vibrated along with him.

“Are you really not thirsty? After crying that much? I’m certain there’s no more water left in your body.”

“….”

This kid is even making jokes now. What level is his mental strength at exactly?

I, who had been leaning limply like a boneless person, swayed expressionlessly along with his laughter.

Then I got slightly annoyed and hit him once with my fist.

“Ugh.”

“…What’s with the ‘ugh.’ Don’t exaggerate. I don’t have any strength right now.”

“You have no idea how badly they beat me.”

“Really? Are you badly hurt?”

“Well… what can you do.”

Rampa Lim, who laughed self-deprecatingly, adjusted his hold on me.

I didn’t tell him not to use English anymore. At this point, there were no words we couldn’t understand from each other anyway.

After escaping from extreme fear, the drowsiness and fatigue that followed, in the silence and hunger, the only thing we could rely on was each other….

Would there ever be a time in life when you become this close to another person?

In Rampa Lim’s young embrace, I thought blankly.

I don’t think I ever had this little distance even with the boyfriends I dated.

It was incomparable.

I rubbed my cheek that had been resting against Rampa Lim’s nape. Rampa Lim, who comforted me by rubbing with his chin, played with my fingers like toys.

The more he touched them, the more my fingertips, scraped and injured from untying the rope, stung, but I just let him be.

The wounds on Rampa Lim’s hands from forcibly removing the security bars were no less than mine.

“See. I was right, wasn’t I? That Jeon An-min guy feels unpleasant, and I felt like we’d get hurt if we stayed close to him. Look, look. The kidnappers also kidnapped us because of that guy’s coat. It’s really unfair.”

“I’ll burn that coat.”

“Cut ties with that guy too.”

“Cut ties? What’s cutting ties?”

“Don’t contact Jeon An-min. Stay away from him.”

“Fine. After coming this far, how could I say no to you.”

“Don’t contact Jae Anmin. Stay away from him.”

(At this point, how could I not listen to what you’re saying?)

It was an infinitely powerless, yet infinitely gentle statement.

I forcibly suppressed the corners of my mouth that were trying to rise.

I guess I’m materialistic after all. Even in this situation, I feel good hearing words filled with this much tolerance from him?

But I can’t help it.

In the original history, he was a celebrity I couldn’t even look at, let alone get close to, wasn’t he?

Actually, I have a shallow connection with Rampa Lim from the past.

I once went on a short working holiday, and during that time I promised to marry a man I met in that country.

We eventually broke off the engagement, but… anyway.

That man’s workplace was in Buckinghamshire, Motorsports Valley. Yes. He was a very small, low-level employee at a racing company.

And the face and legendary symbol of the team that bastard belonged to was none other than Rampa Lim. This guy.

In other words, though it’s a somewhat twisted analogy, it’s no different from getting close to my ex-fiancé’s boss.

If you think about it, isn’t this also a kind of revenge? As a petty materialist, I was naturally a bit exhilarated.

…That’s why I didn’t even realize I was starting to develop a fever.

Like an idiot!

♧

“Rampa Lim…”

“Yeah.”

“Am I… going to die…?”

“Probably.”

“Really…?”

“If you cry in that condition, you’ll die. One hundred percent.”

Rampa Lim spoke calmly and dryly without any trace of humor.

How can he be so cruel!

The playfulness and leisure he showed every day were all lies, and this seemed to be his true personality.

I deeply regret watching Rampa Lim’s Netflix documentary at 1.5x speed…

What kind of harsh childhood must one endure to develop this kind of personality at nine years old? What kind of monster created this monster?

“You’re a psycho… *sob*… I knew it all along… A normal nine-year-old couldn’t act like that when kidnapped… You’re a psycho!”

“You’re an idiot. And I’m not nine, I’m seven. Korean age is stupid.”

“You only know ‘idiot,’ don’t you? You can’t even curse because you can’t speak Korean properly. Serves you right.”

“Stupid. Shut up.”

“*sob*… It hurts, it’s so unfair…”

So unfair. I feel so sorry for myself.

A young beautiful girl like me dying young in these mountains with no one around?

So beauty really is short-lived. I didn’t know that managing myself so harshly to become much prettier than in my previous life would backfire like this. I should have been moderately pretty…!

“Rampa Lim… I think I’m going to throw up…”

“You haven’t eaten or drunk anything, so if you throw up, you’ll really die. If you want to die, go ahead and throw up. Idiot.”

“Psycho.”

“Idiot.”

“Psycho!”

“Idiot. Be quiet.”

Cool lips keep touching my hot forehead.

Rampa Lim’s hands, larger than those of his peers, continuously stroked down my back.

Contrary to his annoying mouth, his touch was so careful that I felt like crying again. So I deliberately sneered.

“You’re scared I might die like this too, aren’t you?”

“Not really.”

“Then why do you keep holding me? Does that lower my fever?”

“Whatever. Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m just holding you because I’m cold. You’re warm and nice. A living heater. Very useful.”

“I hate you…”

“Yeah.”

“When did you always call me clever girl, but now you keep calling me an idiot? So annoying…”

“…”

Rampa Lim was silent.

However, the hand stroking my back didn’t stop.

I was dizzy, had no energy, and was sleepy.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, Rampa Lim hit my back hard.

“Ah! Why, why are you hitting me?”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“What…? No! I’m going to sleep! I’m sleepy!”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Are you crazy?”

“I’m scared.”

“…”

Rampa Lim spoke dryly again.

“I’m scared. Don’t fall asleep.”

In the end, I teared up again.

I don’t know how many days had passed, but this was the first time Rampa Lim said he was scared. Sniffling, I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“…Okay. I won’t sleep. Sorry.”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“Clever girl.”

How has Rampa Lim lived his life to not even cry at this age? I was genuinely becoming curious about this kid.

Rampa Lim began stroking my back again.

How much more time passed like that?

Rampa Lim suddenly called me.

“Sing-ah.”

“Yeah?”

“If my calculations are correct, yesterday was Christmas Eve, and today is Christmas.”

“…”

After mulling over those quiet words, I also spoke softly.

“Christmas is the day when miracles are born.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s the day people make wishes for that to happen.”

“I see…”

I see.

Rampa Lim repeated the same words as if engraving them, wondering what he was thinking. Then he breathed a whisper-like breath into my ear.

“Merry christmas, Sing-ah.”

“…Merry Christmas. Rampa Lim.”

December 25, 1996.

It was a white Christmas I could never forget in my lifetime.

That scene is also the last thing I remember.

December 27th. We were rescued, and the period we were trapped in the mountains was almost four days.

The criminals were arrested at the scene two days before we were rescued, and their motive was kidnapping children from wealthy families for financial gain.

At the request of families and guardians, and considering secondary damage to the child victims, this incident was not reported in any media.

No one, including myself, knows how Rampa Lim endured during the two days I was unconscious.

After a brief recovery in the hospital, Rampa Lim returned to Australia as soon as January came. The snow had stopped by then, and I couldn’t see him off because I was in the hospital room.

It was only later that I heard through Jeong Hyeon-gyo that Christmas was Rampa Lim’s birthday.

I will never be able to find words to express how I felt at that moment for the rest of my life.

And in 1997.

In the coldest winter, the IMF landed on the Korean Peninsula.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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