Hi.

Uuuhmmm… I am feeling a bit shy so I don’t know how to start, but regardless here goes nothing.

So what happened exactly after I picked up Kim Suho, Rachel, and everyone we could fit in with our time-warping, dimension-breaking island ship? Well, we are able to escape the boom boom. Alex Lancaster, that bastard certainly has succeeded in bombing the other timelines which sucks.

The Noah’s Ark Program did save a lot of people, but compared to all of the lives that have been lost, I say there is nothing happy about surviving. Of course, I am happy… I mean, I am alive! But I cannot really show that to my face.

Hell, Rachel is sad… And even Jonghak who I thought was a jackass is getting moody about it.

But hey, I am the super optimistic guy.

At least, I survived, right?

So TEN YEARS LATER!

In a cozy bed for two, bathed in the soft glow of morning moonlight, a blonde woman stirs, gradually waking from her slumber. As she rises, I, her dearest husband, open my eyes and cast a loving gaze upon her. "You've aged well," I remark with a playful grin, acknowledging the passing of a decade. However, Rachel's response is a blank look, a subtle reminder of the time distortion shenanigans that have left me in my mid-20s while she has gracefully crossed into her 30s.

I can't help but tease her about the peculiar situation, commenting on the irony of the age gap that defies the conventional norms of a married couple. Rachel, ever the sharp-witted companion, remarks with a hint of amusement, "Your hooliganism, no matter the years, never fails to amuse me." We share a lighthearted moment, the echoes of the past and the resilience of our bond evident in the playful banter that transcends the temporal dissonance.

I like this kind of flirting, it is as if we are old already like white hair and rickety joints.

Rachel, with a playful glint in her eyes, remarks, "You're sleeping on the sofa for the next five years." I chuckle, retorting, "You said the same thing like a week ago, and look where I am now." The banter continues as I can't resist the urge to playfully tease Rachel, admitting with a mischievous grin, "Oh my, I love bullying you... No, wait, scratch that. I love bullying everyone."

“Yeah, you are one big mean bully.” She sighs.

To make amends for my cheeky behavior, I decide to compliment my dear wife. "You've aged well, you know. No wrinkles and all that for someone in their 30s," I say, attempting to be charming. Rachel, however, swiftly corrects me, "I was 29 yesterday. Early 30s is not exactly 30s." I raise an eyebrow in confusion but decide to lighten the mood by poking her playfully in the boob. However, my attempt at humor is met with the blank stare of death from Rachel, her expression a mix of disbelief and a clear 'how dare you' face.

The playful banter takes a momentarily tense turn, but I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of our unique relationship and the quirks of time that have brought us here. “Ha~! Hahaha! Why the scary face?” I want to joke refereeing to saggy jokes in particular, but I hold back. If I don’t hold back, there will be hell to pay. Moreover, I really cannot make a saggy boob joke since Rachel’s assets are plump!

From the windows of our lunar settlement, the breathtaking expanse of outer space unfolds before us, adorned with a celestial dance of stars and the majestic blue orb of Earth in all its glory. Having evacuated to the First Iteration, this sanctuary of a timeline, my companions and I embraced a collective decision—a strict no-interference policy to Earth. Over the past ten years, we've thrived in this new reality, steering clear of the temporal entanglements that once threatened our existence.

Now, as evacuees from the remnants of dead realities, we find ourselves building a new home on the moon. The lunar surface, with its stark beauty, serves as a testament to our resilience and adaptability. It's a stroke of fortune that Shin Myungchul, our host and benefactor, proves to be exceptionally accommodating.

I enter the kitchen with the intention of whipping up something to eat, only to be greeted by the sight of a very familiar apron-clad Death Knight expertly maneuvering pans on the stove. To my surprise, standing beside the Death Knight is none other than my 15-year-old daughter, Evandel. With her round face and an uncanny resemblance to her mother Rachel, Evandel looks up as I enter.

Playfully, I call out, "Well, if it isn't my little piglet." Evandel, in her teenage defiance, responds with the classic attitude of a puny punk-ass insecure teenager, declaring that she's not fat. “I am not fat! I am adorable, you dingus.”

I can't help but tease her, retorting with a smirk, "Not fat, just round, okay. I understand." The banter fills the kitchen, a snapshot of our familial dynamic blending affection, humor, and the joys of a shared breakfast.

After a hearty breakfast, I lean in to kiss my dearest wife on the face, savoring the familiar warmth of our connection. Turning to my 15-year-old daughter, Evandel, I envelop her in a big hug, relishing the embrace before they embark on their respective journeys for the day. Rachel prepares to head to work, while Evandel gears up for another day of school.

As they leave, I turn my attention to the aftermath of the morning routine – a sink filled with dishes. Embracing my role as a househusband, I dive into the task at hand, scrubbing and cleaning. The Sinful organization, once a force to be reckoned with, has now become a hidden society, obscured from the world's watchful eyes. The unpredictable nature of our current reality is strange and unsettling.

In the midst of domestic chores, I find myself conversing with Cube AI, the ever-present companion. Nonchalantly, I pose a question, asking, “Hey, do you believe in the saying that there's a silver lining to everything?” The mundanity of washing dishes becomes a source of contentment for me in these trying times.

“I don’t understand the question,” Cube replies, bored.

While navigating through the routines of daily life, my thoughts can't help but linger on Yeonha, who has remained trapped in her cursed coma for a decade now. The hope that she'll wake up soon is a persistent flicker in my heart, a beacon of anticipation. Yet, as I ponder her condition, a question arises – what is taking Hajin so long?

Turning to Cube AI for some insight, I express my curiosity. Cube AI, with its characteristic calmness, replies that time on Planet Earth has undergone a peculiar transformation. The 666 timelines have amalgamated into one, resulting in a compression of time on Earth. Outside our plane of existence, time flows at a slower pace. It's a simple yet profound explanation, shedding light on the intricate dynamics of the altered temporal landscape we now find ourselves in.

This is a happy ending for the end of Volume 3, isn’t it? Oh, this? Yes… It is a Fourth Wall Break. Nah, the story won’t go meta. I am just going slightly insane. Volume 1 and Volume 2 have a definitive ‘Conflict’ in the form of characters. There are some real confrontations between characters and villains.

Oh, oh, oh… Before I continue. I want to warn you of a scary spoiler ahead. If you want to end this volume with happy thoughts and no cliffhangers, I suggest you do not continue. J

So did you leave?

You didn’t leave.

This is your choice, huh?

I warned you.

And I am gonna spoil you rotten to the core.

It seems Volume 3 has taken a different route. The ‘bombing’ as the conflict of the story is not really a character-driven plot but a natural plot progression. While Lancaster and the Seer is its enabler, I must say… this will most like turn into an eventuality whether a character is involved or not.

Yes, that’s the word, I guess… an uncertain eventuality.

So, where am I?

Ah~!

While in the shower, I look in the mirror and see almost a quarter of my body turning black. My arm to my shoulder, and then to my torso. This is the side effect of my overusing my gift, Nobody Knows. The primary trigger has been my special move, Horror Incarnate.

The first time the dark marks appeared on me was on my left chest exactly atop my heart. I recall during my Djinn Rescue Escapades, that’s when I learned my days might be numbered. I reckon that’s also why I get weird ideas like resorting to world domination so that I can inflict vengeance on the Chameleon Troupe. It is honestly uncool.

I didn’t tell anyone about it… However, Rachel knows. Yeah… It is during our time together in the First Iteration when we are raising Evandel together that she learned about my situation. It is really hard to hide something like the dark marks on me from someone I want to wrestle in bed with…

It is inevitable we fall in love together, so learning my affliction is only natural for her.

I am getting sentimental.

I put on my bathrobe and lean on the sofa. I begin thinking to myself. “I hope I can live a little longer,” I grin. “I am definitely raising a death flag here…”

Suddenly, fluctuations of magic power resonate behind me. Appearing from it is a portal and out from it is a familiar face. “Kim Hajin,” I call to him. For some reason, I can tell… This is the same Kim Hajin that I know. The guy that I messed around with from the 666^th Timeline. “Where have you been, pal? I have lots of story to—”

All too abruptly, I feel my lungs giving out. I cannot breathe. A bullet hole has been left right on my chest. I look at Hajin whose face remains emotionless. Hajin’s grip on his gun is steady, without any hesitation. He unloads another bullet on me, hitting me on the other side of the chest.

That’s smart. Some people are born with hearts on the other side of their chest.

Finally, Hajin unloads another bullet at me right on my eye socket. Now, that’s really smart. Though rare, some martial artists can move their hearts inside their bodies. “You really are good, Hajin… Man, I didn’t see that coming.” I gently close my only working eye.

With a smile, I lean on the sofa.

The last thoughts in my head are about Rachel and Evandel.

“Cube,” I feel my strength dwindling, but I push through with all of my might in my dying breath. “I order y-ou… to e-rase all… sssecurity foot-age… ef-f-ective… immediately.”

This time, I think I am going to be dead for real.

END OF VOLUME 3: UNCERTAIN EVENTUALITY