SALT 01

Chapter: 01

 The Day of the End (1)

“Mr. Lee Minjun, it’s a brain tumor.”

As the doctor in a white coat spoke, Minjun stared blankly into the air.

‘What… did he just say?’

Recently, his stomach hadn’t been feeling well, and the nausea had been getting worse. So he had visited an internal medicine clinic not long ago.

There, they told him nothing seemed particularly wrong with his body.

However, if the nausea persisted, they suggested he try visiting a neurosurgery department, recommending this hospital.

He had found it strange—why go to neurosurgery when his stomach hurt? But since it was the doctor’s advice, he came anyway, half-reluctantly.

So, he should have heard that nothing was wrong, muttered to himself about wasting his time, and gone home.

“More specifically, it appears to be glioblastoma. We’ll need a biopsy to know for sure, but the location isn’t good. The headaches and nausea you’ve been experiencing are likely all because of this.”

“Ah…”

‘Is this… a dream?’

He pinched his thigh hard.

A sharp pain shot through his nerves and reached his brain.

“Then… if I get treatment… will I be okay?”

“…”

“Ah! Do I need surgery? It’s scary, but if it’s necessary to recover, it can’t be helped. When should we schedule it?”

“Surgery… yes, we’ll have to. We’ll remove as much of the tumor as possible and follow up with radiation therapy.”

“…Doctor?”

“Sir, I will do everything I can. This isn’t a disease with zero cases of recovery—”

“…”

“You need to stay strong. There are active clinical trials, and with proper management, there have been cases of full recovery—”

Perhaps the doctor found it difficult to say out loud that the average life expectancy for glioblastoma patients was about 12 months.

Did he think Minjun wouldn’t understand the English written beneath the chart he showed as “statistics from other patients”? Or was this simply his way of dealing with terminal patients?

Minjun felt as if his consciousness had left his body and was floating in the air.

“…One year.”

Growing up as an orphan, Minjun had been determined not to pass on the poverty and suffering he endured to his future children.

So he studied relentlessly.

Except for the hours he worked part-time jobs, he devoted himself entirely to studying, day and night.

He graduated college as a full scholarship student and had only recently become a newcomer to the workforce.

‘What is this…?’

Even as the doctor continued talking, Minjun staggered to his feet and left the consultation room.

Bzzzz—

As the door closed behind him, his relatively new phone—still not fully paid off—vibrated.

“Yes, Assistant Manager Kim.”

[Oh, Minjun. You went to the hospital, right? When you come back to the office, grab some clips and pens. You have the company card, right?]

“…Assistant Manager. I’ve been diagnosed with a brain tumor.”

[Yes, got it—…Wait, what?]

“They say it’ll be hard to last more than a year… So, could I take the day off and rest at home today?”

[Ah… yes. I’ll inform the director… Get some rest, and let’s talk tomorrow.]

Click.

He listened to the disconnected tone for a moment before shoving the phone into his pocket.

He felt dizzy.

He desperately needed sleep.

‘If I sleep and wake up, this will all have just been a bad dream… I’ll wake up feeling relieved.’

He somehow made his way to the parking lot—he didn’t even remember how—and pressed the key fob.

The old compact car he bought to celebrate getting a job blinked its lights at him.

He got in, left the parking lot, and headed home.

Creeeeak—

As he rolled down the window with effort, a warm breeze flowed in.

Driving along Olympic-daero, he saw fresh green sprouts emerging here and there.

Outside, the long winter had passed, and spring had arrived.

‘Who are they calling terminal? Screw that.’

His life, too, was just leaving winter behind and entering spring.

Or so he thought—like an idiot—without knowing that his “spring” would only last one year.

Even in a half-dazed state, his hands instinctively steered the wheel toward Garak Market, where his small home was.

As he drove onto Songpa-daero, Seoul Tower stood tall under a cloudless sky.

“My dream…”

He had always dreamed of working hard and someday building a happy family there.

That was why he had chosen his tiny one-room apartment in the Garak Market area—so he could see Seoul Tower from anywhere.

But it seemed God had no intention of granting him that happiness.

“Damn it… You could’ve at least told me earlier. I got my hopes up for nothing.”

Bang!

He slammed the steering wheel hard, muttering through gritted teeth.

His vision blurred like it was fogged over.

Swallowing back his runny nose, he wiped away the tears forming in his eyes.

“I’ll live no matter what. I’ll get surgery, get treatment, and survive. Do you know how hard I worked just to reach this starting line? Damn it… I’m never giving up.”

With fierce determination in his eyes, he kept driving.

Then, as he approached Jamsil Station intersection—

Pshhh—

The dashboard went dark, and the engine suddenly died.

“Huh? What? What’s wrong with this thing?”

Hoooonk! Honk! Honk!

At the same time, loud honking and crashing sounds erupted ahead, and the car in front stopped abruptly.

Bang!

With no hazard lights, Minjun had no choice but to crash into the car ahead.

The airbags deployed instantly, protecting him.

“Ugh… what the hell just happened…”

Smoke rose from the hood.

He barely regained his senses and moved his limbs.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem seriously injured.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing stopping so suddenly?!”

“Hey, watch your mouth! You think you can talk like that to an adult—”

“Whatever! Call the insurance company!”

Judging by the commotion outside, it didn’t seem like just one or two cars were involved.

Remembering someone’s advice to grab the back of your neck first after an accident, Minjun opened the door and stepped out, groaning.

“Hey, if you’re going to stop like that—”

But as he looked toward the intersection, he couldn’t finish his sentence.

“…What the…”

The Jamsil intersection was a chaotic mess of tangled vehicles, smoke rising everywhere, and more than a dozen drivers shouting at each other.

As Minjun stood there, stunned by the scale of it, the door of an SUV at the center opened, and a middle-aged man tumbled out.

The surrounding people were too busy arguing to care whether the man was bleeding or not.

“Hey… someone’s collapsed.”

Minjun ran over, laid the bleeding man down properly, and checked his condition.

“Sir! Are you okay?”

Thankfully, the man was conscious, but his condition looked serious.

“Ugh… I’m… okay. Just my head… ngh!”

Minjun pressed the emergency call button, but no dial tone came through.

‘Why… in the middle of Seoul…?’

Not just calls—the entire phone wasn’t working.

Looking around, other drivers trying to call insurance were also frowning, tapping their phones repeatedly.

Regardless of carrier or manufacturer, no one’s phone was working.

And then—

Rumble—

‘Huh? What was that…?’

A strange sound suddenly grated against his ears.

“Sir, just a moment.”

Rumble—

‘…?’

RUMBLE—

‘Is something collapsing…?!’

Just as he realized what the sound was—

The ground shook violently, tossing cars left and right.

“E–Earthquake!”

“W–what?!”

“Ahhhh!”

Minjun shouted and covered the injured driver.

Screams erupted everywhere.

People on sidewalks and roads grabbed onto anything nearby, crouching to avoid falling.

Buildings lining the streets groaned, their massive frames trembling.

Tall skyscrapers swayed dangerously before spewing shattered glass and furniture outward.

“Run! Run!”

“Ahhh!”

A man shoved an elderly person aside and fled.

A desk fell onto the fallen elderly man.

Another person used the blood-soaked desk fragments to shield their head.

A child was trampled to death under the frantic feet of adults.

Events like these unfolded one after another.

Protecting the weak?

Morality?

In the face of a natural disaster, such soft values were useless.

Casualties multiplied at an unbelievable rate.

Jamsil intersection descended into chaos.

Crack—

As if that weren’t enough, the earthquake opened its greedy jaws faster than people could react.

The asphalt split apart, swallowing cars and legs alike.

Traffic lights snapped and sparked fires.

People struggled to escape, but those trapped couldn’t free themselves.

Falling debris continued to claim lives mercilessly.

Minjun frantically pressed emergency numbers on his dead phone.

“Please…! Damn it, please! Why isn’t this working?!”

He needed help.

Someone had to know about this.

Already, countless people had died here alone, and the injured were scattered everywhere.

Just when it seemed the shaking had stopped, it returned again—pushing people into deeper despair.

The second tremor was stronger than the first.

“A second one? Damn it… we have to run…”

Mainshock.

A line from his high school Earth science textbook surfaced belatedly in his mind.

CRASH!

Seoul Tower, already shaking violently, finally snapped in half.

One by one, skyscrapers collapsed, unable to withstand the quake.

Fortunately, debris didn’t fall directly where Minjun stood.

Only because he had been in the middle of the intersection helping the injured driver—relatively safer than near the roadside.

Still, dust filled the air, obscuring everything.

The relentless disaster left him unable to think.

Even as he faced death from the earthquake before his illness could claim him, he could only stand there, powerless.

The ground felt like it was tilting vertically.

Just maintaining his balance was difficult.

That was how fragile humans were in the face of nature.

Collapsing buildings devoured screams like starving monsters—

And in reality, they devoured people indiscriminately, regardless of age or gender.