Golden Print [EN]: Chapter 2

Even though I was only twenty-two, I felt like I had lived for twenty years already.

When Woojin was twelve, making friends was hard. Maybe it was because losing his father at eight had made him grow up too fast. While other kids played games, Woojin thought about grown-up things. He didn’t talk much and preferred to be alone.

But there was one person who was different. An unusual friend, much older than the other kids, who Woojin felt drawn to.

“Mister! Mister Hakcheol! Are you on your walk again?”

“Ah, Woojin! Yes, just stretching my legs in these dusty alleys, as always.”

This friend was Mister Hakcheol. He was a strange sight in the neighborhood, always with a beard that looked like a bird’s nest and clothes covered in dust and paint, even when he was just walking around.

Even Woojin didn’t see the man often, but he was definitely Woojin’s favorite friend.

Whenever he met that man, Woojin could hear amazing and interesting stories.

“Back in my day……”

“Not those old stories again, Mister!”

But setting aside all those reasons, the biggest reason Woojin liked him was because there was something they could share.

The man named ‘Im Hakcheol’ was dreaming the same dream as Woojin.

“My dream is to build the most amazing house in the world.”

“Wow…! Me too! Me too!”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

Hakcheol was an architectural designer.

Hakcheol said he wasn’t famous, just a regular designer. But to young Woojin, he seemed incredibly talented and wise.

“I wish I was you, Mister,” Woojin said, looking up at Hakcheol with wide eyes.

Hakcheol chuckled, stroking his beard. “Oh? Why is that, Woojin?”

“Because you *are* an architect! That’s what I want to be when I grow up – a really amazing architect!”

Hakcheol nodded slowly. “Well, I suppose I am an architect, in a way.”

“You’re living my dream right now! That’s why I’m jealous,” Woojin explained earnestly.

Woojin genuinely envied Im Hakcheol, the architectural designer.

But whenever Woojin said such things, Hakcheol would shake his head and give a bitter smile.

Hakcheol shook his head, his smile fading. “No, Woojin, you’ve got it wrong. *I’m* the one who’s jealous of *you*.”

Woojin frowned. “But… why?”

Hakcheol sighed, looking down the alley. “Because… because I’ve stopped dreaming big dreams. I’m stuck. You’re still free to imagine anything.”

“Huh…?”

“Why? Aren’t you thinking of becoming the world’s best designer?”

“Ha, haha.”

Whenever they had conversations like this, Hakcheol would stop answering.

Instead of answering, he would ramble on about his own stories.

“I used to design large, 30-story buildings……”

“Wow!”

“But it was terribly boring.”

“Cough. Why?”

“In Korea, they only want boring, boxy buildings. No one wants anything interesting or different.”

Im Hakcheol, who always told Woojin interesting stories, would always disappear somewhere after an hour.

Hakcheol patted Woojin on the shoulder. “Alright, Woojin, I have to go. See you around, okay?”

Woojin’s face fell. “Already? Can’t you stay just a little bit longer, Mister?”

Hakcheol smiled sadly. “Wish I could, kiddo. But even old Mister Hakcheol has to work, you know. Busy, busy.” He winked. “Next time, I promise.”

Woojin sighed. “Okay… See you, Mister.”

And Hakcheol, who often talked to Woojin in the neighborhood, once had this conversation with him one day.

Hakcheol stopped walking and looked seriously at Woojin. “Woojin, listen to me.”

Woojin looked up, surprised by Hakcheol’s serious tone. “Yes, Mister?”

“Promise me something. Promise you won’t ever let go of that dream. Not even when you’re old and gray, thirty years from now.”

Woojin puffed out his chest. “Don’t worry! I won’t! I’m going to be the best architect in the whole world, you’ll see!”

“Really?” Hakcheol asked, his eyes searching Woojin’s.

“Really, really!” Woojin nodded firmly. “I’ll build buildings taller than anything you’ve ever seen!”

Hakcheol chuckled softly, a genuine smile lighting up his face. “Heh heh. I believe you, Woojin. I really do.”

Woojin never forgot that smile. It wasn’t just a smile; it was like sunshine breaking through clouds, the kind of smile that made you believe anything was possible. He’d never seen an adult smile like that before.

“You know what, Woojin?” Hakcheol said, his voice softer now. “I think… I think you really could become a world-class architect one day.”

Woojin’s eyes widened. “You really think so, Mister?!”

Hakcheol nodded, his smile fading slightly, replaced by a serious look. “Yes. But only if you hold onto that dream, Woojin. Don’t ever let it go.”

Woojin always believed that Hakcheol’s words that day were the reason he never gave up on his dream, even after all these years.

And now, thirty years later, as the world spun around him, Woojin heard Hakcheol’s last words echoing in his mind, clear as a bell. *“Please, don’t lose your dream, Woojin.”* And then, the mysterious promise: *“If you’re still dreaming that dream in thirty years… I’ll have a very special gift for you.”*

“Mister……”

Woojin could now understand that his ‘special’ friend he had made thirty years ago was by no means an ordinary man.

A strange *hum* filled the air, vibrating in Woojin’s bones. His head throbbed, each pulse like a hammer blow against his skull. Then, slowly, the pain began to recede, the dizziness fading like mist in the morning sun. The blinding white light that had filled his eyes softened, and shapes began to form again.

*What… what was happening?* Woojin’s eyelids felt heavy, but he forced them open. His vision was blurry at first, then slowly sharpened. He blinked, trying to understand where he was. And then he saw it. Hanging on the wall, right in front of him… a calendar. His eyes focused on the date printed in bold red letters: **[February 15, 2010]**. It was a date from twenty years in the past.

Everyone has had that thought, at least once in their life. *What if I could go back?* Ten years ago, five years ago… even just to yesterday. Imagine knowing what you know now, back then. Ace that test, make a better choice, maybe even win the lottery. It’s a fun dream, but everyone knows it’s just a dream.

There was no one who actually memorized past lottery numbers or college entrance exam answers.

And Seo Woojin also, had thoughts that were not much different from those of normal people.

‘Hoo. If I had known this would happen……’

It was definitely an ordinary day, no different from any other.

There were slightly more frustrating things at work than usual, and he went to a slightly more special place after work, but that was it.

He had simply sought out happy memories from a long time ago because he felt suffocated, but this miraculous thing unfolded before Woojin’s eyes.

‘Is this a dream? It doesn’t seem like it, but……’

Looking around, Woojin couldn’t help but smile.

‘I’m glad it’s not a dream that will easily break, at least.’

Whether the world before his eyes was really 2010, there was no need to even check.

This space where Woojin had opened his eyes, and the current situation unfolding before his eyes, were proving the date of February 15, 2010, all too clearly.

“Sergeant Seo Woojin, shouldn’t you be changing into your regular clothes, sir?” It was Woojin’s last day in the army – his discharge day. The day he became a civilian again.

For Woojin, who was now over forty and still single, his discharge day had been one of the happiest days of his life.

Sunlight streamed through the barrack windows, painting stripes of gold across the dusty floor. Woojin remembered this morning as if it were yesterday, not twenty years ago. It was as if the last two decades had simply vanished.

‘To think I’d get discharged twice.’

In fact, the experience of being discharged twice was something that any Korean man would shake his head at.

Unless it was a special situation like Woojin’s, it was no different from having served in the military twice.

But since he was cleanly experiencing only the discharge day once more, Woojin could laugh without worry.

“Ha, haha.”

“Hey, Sergeant Seo! Why are you so calm?” Kim Seonggwan grinned, leaning against the doorframe. Seonggwan was younger than Woojin, but in the army, he was his junior.

Woojin looked at Seonggwan and, without even thinking, said the same words he’d said twenty years ago: “Why would I rush? No need to hurry.”

Seonggwan also answered him with the exact same words as Woojin remembered.

“If it was me, I’d be out of here in a heartbeat!” Seonggwan laughed.

“Heh heh.” Woojin smiled back, feeling a genuine warmth spread through him. It had been a long time since he’d felt this light, this hopeful. The shock of what had happened was fading, replaced by a growing sense of… excitement.

Woojin hadn’t become an architect in his first life. That was true. But he had worked hard, every single day, for forty years. He knew that, deep down. And now… now he had a second chance.

“Hey, Seonggwan,” Woojin said, “You know you don’t have to call me ‘Sergeant’ anymore, right? Just call me ‘hyung’ now.” (Add: *In Korean culture, ‘hyung’ is what younger men call older brothers or close older friends.*)

Seonggwan shook his head. “Nope. Not yet.”

“Why not?” Woojin chuckled.

“Because if I stop calling you ‘Sergeant,’ it’ll feel like you’re really gone. Like you’re already a civilian.”

“And you don’t want me to be a civilian?”

Seonggwan grinned mischievously. “Not even for a second longer than I have to.”

Woojin smiled at Seonggwan, who was replying playfully.

Seonggwan was a year older than Woojin, but he was a junior who had followed him better than anyone else during his military life.

Woojin wanted to stay close to Seonggwan for a long time, just like he had in his previous life.

He knew that Seonggwan had a pretty younger sister, and he also knew that he could enter the same university as her, but he certainly didn’t have any ulterior motives.

“Promise you’ll call me when you get out, hyung,” Seonggwan said.

Woojin grinned. “Why don’t *you* get discharged first, kid?”

Seonggwan laughed. “Ha, ha. Maybe someday.”

And just like that, Woojin was discharged. He stood straight, saluted sharply, and announced, “Sergeant Seo Woojin, reporting discharge! Mission complete!” He lowered his hand, took a deep breath of the fresh morning air, and stepped out of the barracks. His second life was starting now.

In his first life, Woojin had never become an architect. There were many reasons for that, but the biggest one, the one that always stung the most, was that he never went to university.

Woojin’s family hadn’t had much money. He’d grown up with just his mother, and things were always tight. His mother had even tried to talk him out of it, but Woojin had refused to go to university. Especially for a career like architecture, a good university degree was almost essential.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t had the chance. He’d even been accepted early to one of the best design universities in the whole country.

His mother had begged him to take out a loan, promising she would find a way to pay it back. But Woojin, always so serious and responsible for his age, couldn’t bear the thought of adding to her worries.

*Back then, the idea of being in debt – even a few million won, which felt like a huge amount of money to him then – it was just too much to handle.*

So, he’d put off university, thinking he’d earn money first. He joined the army, and after he finished his service, he took any job he could find, even working at small architect offices that were really just construction sites. He worked and worked, but university just kept slipping further away.

And that was his biggest regret from his first life. The one that haunted him the most.

*Now, he understood. Sometimes, you have to borrow money to invest in your future. Why hadn’t he seen that back then?*

As soon as Woojin got home from the army base, he found his mother in the kitchen. He took a deep breath. This was it. “Mother,” he began, his voice a little shaky. “There’s something I need to tell you.” He paused, then said the words that had been burning in his chest all day. “Mother… I’m going to university.”

His mother’s eyes widened, her hands freezing over the vegetables she was chopping. “R-really, Woojin?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding firmly. “I’ve been thinking about it non-stop in the army. You were right, Mom. You were right all along.”

Tears welled up in his mother’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Seeing her cry, Woojin’s own throat tightened. He felt a lump forming there, a mix of relief, gratitude, and years of regret finally melting away.

“Oh, Woojin,” his mother whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “You’ve made the right decision, son. You really have.”

Woojin swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. He didn’t want his mother to see him cry. Not now.

“But, Mom,” Woojin said, his voice firm now.

“Yes, son?”

“I’ll pay for the loan myself. Every penny.”

“No, no, Woojin, it’s okay. Your mother can handle that much, you know.”

Woojin shook his head. “No, Mom. This is my responsibility. I have to do this myself.”

His mother looked at him, surprised by the strength in his voice. She’d never heard him speak like that before. For a long moment, she just looked at him, tears still streaming down her face. Then, slowly, she reached out and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. Her little boy was gone. This was a man now.

“Thank you, Woojin,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his shoulder. And so, on the very first day of his second life, Woojin had already taken the first step to fix his biggest mistake. He was going to university.