Manhattan, New York. The restaurant Charlotte Bennett had booked was hushed from the moment you walked in.

One staff member took my coat, and another led me to a table toward the back.

The tables were spaced so far apart that you could barely make out the conversation at the next one.

The walls were done in dark wood and cream.

Small lamps lit the paintings on them.

Silverware lay neatly on white tablecloths, and fresh flowers in the middle of the table gave off a faint floral scent.

Through the window, I could see the streets of Manhattan on a winter evening. Car lights gathered at the intersection, then scattered in lines when the signal changed.

"Can I get you some water to start?"

"Sparkling, please."

After the waiter withdrew, I checked my phone. There was still a little time before we were due to meet.

Arriving early had given me time alone to sort out my thoughts.

A U.S. green card. An investment company. And people here who'd move on my behalf, in my name.

To be honest, until recently I hadn't meant to hurry like this.

What had moved the plan up was the business with Gu Changjin. He was the heir to the Hyundo Group, and I'd run into him at the ski resort without meaning to.

He was the type who called it a bet when he won and an insult when he lost.

The accident on the slope was his own fault. He'd gotten hurt because he'd chased me too recklessly.

He'd never accept the result as his own doing.

He was the sort who wouldn't rest until he'd pinned it on someone.

And the likeliest someone was bound to be me.

It was a ridiculous situation, but I'd already seen more than enough of a world that worked that way.

It had been exactly the same before my regression.

The powerless apologized before the people who'd actually done wrong.

Whoever said it was unfair got silenced first. I had no intention of living that way in this life.

"Your sparkling water."

"Thank you."