At my words, the chat stopped dead.
The viewers must have picked up on it — everyone was hushing up.
"What do you mean by that all of a sudden?"
"Mr. Han Munsu."
"Now that I think of it, how did you know my name... no, it really is the real thing...... I thought this was all staged......"
"It's fine. More importantly — no matter what I say from here, can you trust me?"
"......"
No answer, but I didn't need one to know.
He didn't believe me.
"I'm perfectly fine."
He said it firmly, insisting he was fine — but that itself was strange.
A person who truly is fine doesn't feel the need to press a point that should be obvious.
I looked into his future again. Despite it being the middle of the day, the curtains were drawn and the living room was dark. Han Munsu was sitting on the sofa, staring blankly into space.
Beside him and across the floor, empty bottles of soju lay scattered — more than a few. And on the table, packets of medication.
"I, I'm......"
He was drinking when his breathing turned ragged. He lurched to his feet, and the scene blurred before shifting — an ambulance screaming its way into the apartment complex.
At the same time, paramedics rushed up the stairs and onto the rooftop, where he sat balanced precariously on the railing.
"I'm not useless......"
The next scene — a woman sat collapsed in a hospital corridor, weeping.
"Dad......"
She looked about thirty.
Beside her was a little girl who looked around six, tugging at her mother's sleeve.
"Mommy, where did Grandpa go?"
I pulled my gaze from that scene.
'He has a daughter and a granddaughter.'
"Mr. Han Munsu, you have a granddaughter."
"How did you know...?"
"How old is she?"
"......Six."
"What's her name?"
"Yerin."
The moment Han Munsu said his granddaughter's name, his voice changed for the first time.
From that hard, defensive tone — it softened, the way a grandfather's voice does when he speaks his grandchild's name.
"Does Yerin like her grandfather?"
"She does. I practically raised her when she was little."
"How about recently?"
"These days I see her about once every six months."
I recalled the scene again.
Yerin, tugging at her crying mother's sleeve in the hospital corridor.
"Mr. Han Munsu."
"Yes."
"If you aren't here, Yerin will ask her mother. 'Where did Grandpa go?'"
"What do you......"
"It means you're that precious a grandfather to Yerin. So would you open up and talk to me?"
"What on earth......"
"I already know everything, so please just speak your mind. This is between us."
― He says that, but there are over 200 viewers right now
― Read the room, people
― Seriously, did you eat the room for breakfast?
― Quiet down before I shove your face in a bathtub
― Sorry
One minute.
Two minutes.
Three minutes.
Through the speaker came slightly ragged breathing, but I said nothing and waited.
About five minutes passed.
A winded, choking voice came through.
"I'm a useless person."
"When did you start thinking that?"
"After the voluntary retirement."
"How long ago?"
"A year."
"You've been alone with that thought for a year?"
"......Yes."
His voice shrank again, and I looked into his home once more. A family photo hung beside the sofa.
A much younger version of him — taken years ago?
Holding his daughter tight, smiling wider than anyone.
"Mr. Han Munsu, what did you do at the company?"
"Sales, for over thirty years."
"I've heard sales is grueling, and you did it for thirty years."
"That's the only thing I have left to be proud of."
"Then why did you say you're a useless person?"
"Because I'm not doing anything right now."
"Does doing nothing make a person useless?"
Again, no answer — only the sound of breathing.
"Does a person have to work from the day they're born until the day they die?"
"That's how I lived."
He'd worked himself to the bone his entire life. "Voluntary retirement" in name — but in the end, the company had let him go. And with it, he'd lost his reason to live.
"Without work, it feels like I don't exist. Thirty years in sales and I've got nothing to show for it. Not much money, no friends, no hobbies......"
"You have your daughter and Yerin."
"......My daughter's all grown up, and Yerin will do fine without me."
"Do you truly believe that?"
"Yes."
I closed my eyes for a moment and looked into the future once more.
His daughter collapsed in the hospital corridor, and Yerin pulling at her mother's sleeve.
"Mommy, where did Grandpa go?"
That scene was still vivid.
"Mr. Han Munsu."
"Yes."
"In the future I saw — Yerin asks her mother. 'Where did Grandpa go?'"
"......"
"Your daughter says nothing. She just hugs Yerin tight. Because there are no words that can make a six-year-old understand. Grandpa is simply gone."
His ragged breathing was audible, but this was where I had to push.
"You said you were useless. That thirty years in sales left you with nothing. No money, no friends, no hobbies. But to Yerin, you're just her grandfather."
And I knew exactly why he'd been suffering in silence.
"It's hard to tell your daughter, isn't it? Don't worry. I'll talk to her for you."
"Th-that's a bit......"
"Don't worry too much. I'll explain everything. To your daughter and to Yerin — you're a precious member of the family."
He hesitated, then said he'd send the number via message.
"Worrying about things that haven't happened yet is the biggest waste there is. Please don't worry so much, and just trust me."
"......Thank you."
"Then please wait just a moment."
I ended the call with him and muted my microphone.
"Everyone, I'm going to mute for a sec."
― Take your time
― I can't stop crying
― God, I'm actually tearing up
― Am I going to end up like that?
― Don't worry, I'm right here with you
― Please go away
I dialed the daughter's number from his message on my phone.
Ring ring ring.
Ring ring ring.
Ring ring ring.
Click.
"Hello?"
"Hello. Are you Mr. Han Munsu's daughter?"
"Yes, I am, but how did you get my number......"
"Your father gave it to me. My name is Kim Jinwoo. I'm an internet friend of your father's — I'm calling because there's something I need to tell you."
"My father?"
"Yes."
"What is it?"
I explained everything that had happened.
"Could you go check on your father today? And if possible, take him to the hospital as well."
"I, I had no idea it was that bad......"
"Your father spent over thirty years in sales, so he's very skilled at hiding his emotions. But please don't worry too much — just take him to the hospital. And give him a hug."
"......Thank you."
I ended the call and unmuted.
Then I reconnected with him.
"Mr. Han Munsu. Your daughter will be calling soon."
"......Alright."
"Don't worry too much. Everything will work out. And when she comes, please go to the hospital. The psychiatry department."
"......I'm not mentally ill."
"I know. But did you know? These days, people visit the psychiatrist even just because they can't sleep well."
Older generations had been deeply reluctant to visit a psychiatrist.
Less because it was frightening, more because it was embarrassing.
Especially for the older generation — many believed that having it on record would cause trouble at work, or that only truly insane people went there.
But here's the thing.
These days, people visit psychiatrists just to vent.
It's a place anyone can use — yet the people who actually need help aren't coming. That reality was heartbreaking.
"I know it's scary because it's your first time, and embarrassing because you're afraid of what others will think."
"......"
"It's not embarrassing. Getting through a year on your own — that's what's truly impressive."
And who cares about other people's eyes?
People in this world care far less about other people's business than you'd think.
"Mr. Han Munsu. Please cherish your family more than you worry about strangers. Stay close to the family who'll be there when things are hard."
Silence.
A long silence, but before long his voice came through.
"When my daughter comes......"
His voice was completely different from the beginning — not low and gruff, just the voice of someone tired.
"When she comes, I'll go."
"Promise me."
"Yes."
"And call Yerin every now and then. Your granddaughter will love it."
"......Why would I?"
"Are you so distant that you need a reason to call?"
"......!"
"You're not. Just call. Ask if she's doing well. Say you just missed her."
"I'll try."
"That's a promise."
"Understood."
Click.
Han Munsu left the call room.
***
Even after the call ended, Han Munsu sat on the sofa in a daze for a long time.
"I'm sick?"
Muttering to himself, he glanced around the living room — towers of unopened delivery boxes.
"The next product we'd like to introduce is......"
At the voice streaming from the TV, he reached for the remote instinctively — then immediately put it down.
Instead, he picked up his phone and opened the contact list. There it was — his daughter's number.
His one and only precious daughter. He'd lost his wife early and raised her alone, so there was so much he'd never been able to give her.
He tapped the number, and the family photo came up — and there was Yerin, beaming.
"Grandpa is the best in the whole world!"
His beloved granddaughter, who always adored him.
Just as a wave of emotion hit and he was debating whether to press the call button —
Ring ring ring!
Ring ring ring!
Ring ring ring!
A call came in from his daughter.
He hastily wiped his tears and pressed the answer button with forced composure.
"What's the matter at this hour?"
"Dad, I'm on my way."
"......!"
Just one short sentence, but Han Munsu was struck speechless.
"Yerin's coming too."
The instant he heard his granddaughter's name, he whipped his head up and looked around the apartment.
At the wreck of a home.
"How long will you be?!"
"About ten minutes."
"Got it."
He hung up and sprang off the sofa — perhaps thinking he couldn't let his granddaughter see this.
He started frantically tidying up.
But there was far too much to clear in ten minutes, and inevitably the door lock beeped.
Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep!
Click!
"Dad, we're here."
"Grandpa!"
Yerin came dashing through the entrance, then stopped and looked around the living room with wide eyes.
"Whoa! What is all this?!"
At his granddaughter's exclamation, Han Munsu stood in the middle of the half-cleaned living room, struggling for an answer — but nothing came to mind.
All he could manage was an awkward greeting.
"My little Yerin, you're here."
Yerin marched up to him.
"Grandpa! If you make a mess like this, Mommy will scold you!"
"Hahaha, you're right."
"Don't worry! I'll help you!"
With that, Yerin rolled up her sleeves and started struggling to move a giant box — and then his precious daughter, now all grown up and a mother herself, Sujin, walked up to him.
Eyes brimming with tears.
"Dad, I'm sorry."
"What do you have to be sorry about?"
"I should've done better......"
Han Munsu went to his teary-eyed daughter and wiped her tears with his hand.
"I'm the one who's more sorry."
Yerin, watching the two of them, looked back and forth between them.
"I'm sorry too."
"What does our pretty Yerin have to be sorry for?"
"I should've come to see Grandpa more often......"
"No. It's alright."
At those words, Han Munsu finally broke down in tears, and Yerin threw her arms around his leg.
"Don't cry, Grandpa. I'm right here."
The three of them stood in the middle of the living room in silence for a long while.
Then.
Grrrrrumble.
Yerin's stomach announced it wanted food.
"Grandpa."
"......Yes?"
"I'm hungry."
After a beat of stillness, all three of them — without anyone leading the way — laughed together and started getting ready to head out.
"Let's go eat something delicious."
"Okay!"
***
'That's a relief.'
With a warm smile, I'd peeked into his situation — and thankfully, things had worked out.
Time to wrap up the stream, then.
"That's all for today."
― Whyyy
― More please
― Today was seriously incredible
― Just one more!
"My eyes are stiff. See you all tomorrow."
I was moving the mouse to press [End Stream] when —
― GiveMyMoneyBack donated 10,000 won! ―
[I'd like a consultation too, is that possible? It's a bit urgent]
"I'm sorry. First come, first served tomorrow."
― GiveMyMoneyBack donated 500,000 won! ―
[Is it really not possible? It's genuinely urgent.]
"GiveMyMoneyBack, thank you for the 500,000-won donation! I'll see you right away! Password is 1004!"
― Lol, he caved for 500,000 won
― No business can resist money
― I like that Jinwoo's honest
― For 500K I'd wake up from a dead sleep to stream
Soon a click, and a young woman's voice came through — she sounded desperate.
"I messed up today — what should I do?"
What on earth did she do that's this urgent?
The instant I looked into her past, I was struck speechless.
"Are you the daughter of this house? You don't really look like your parents' photos."
......What in the world is going on?!