He tossed and turned all night. In the darkness, Jin Do-yoon opened his eyes countless times, repeating the name "Moon Ga-hyeon" over and over. His face, his voice, his passion for cooking... everything felt both dreamlike and distant, yet vivid enough to grasp. As morning broke, the first thing he did was thoroughly search the program schedule for the documentary channel he had watched the night before. But there was no documentary about Chef Moon Ga-hyeon—not even a similar program existed. It was as if only that page had been torn from his memory.
His steps felt heavy on the way to work. As he entered the office, his colleague Team Leader Park approached with coffee.
"Do-yoon, did you watch 'Gourmet Night' on City Bay Channel yesterday? Chef Kang Min-hee is really amazing, isn't she? That apple tart made my mouth water just watching it on screen..."
Do-yoon held his breath for a moment. Kang Min-hee. That name again. "...Do you happen to know Chef Moon Ga-hyeon? From 'Table M'...?"
Team Leader Park's eyes widened. "Moon Ga-hyeon? I've never heard that name. Isn't 'Table M' Chef Kang Min-hee's restaurant? Do-yoon, are you feeling alright? You don't look well."
As expected. Do-yoon forced a casual smile. "Oh, I've been a bit tired lately. I must have been mistaken."
His heart was racing. This wasn't just a simple mistake or memory error. The entire world had forgotten that one person. And only he could clearly perceive that empty space.
He sat at his workstation and let out a deep sigh. As a memory restoration specialist, he had dealt with countless distorted and corrupted data, but this was a first. This wasn't data loss. It was a complete erasure, as if the very existence had evaporated.
'What if... what if this was intentional?'
A chilling thought crossed his mind. He immediately accessed his personal security system. Ordinary MainNet search engines wouldn't find anything anyway. Do-yoon launched his secretly developed "Neuro-Echo Scanner" program—a tool that tracked the faint reverberations of deleted memories, the very subtle "echoes of existence" left in MainNet's data streams. It wasn't exactly legal, but now wasn't the time for such concerns.
[Search Query: Moon_Ga-hyeon_Chef_TableM_20700511_Records]
As he pressed enter, complex data streams began flowing rapidly across the monitor. Like a probe sweeping the bottom of a vast information river, the scanner explored MainNet's depths. How much time had passed? Cold sweat beaded on Do-yoon's forehead.
[Search Result: No matching 'echo' found. Related data fragments undetectable.]
The result was devastating. Too perfect. As if such a person had never existed from the beginning, not even the slightest trace remained. MainNet seemed like a vast ocean of oblivion that had swallowed him whole.
"Damn..."
Do-yoon rubbed his face dry. This level of perfect deletion wasn't something an individual could accomplish. It would require national-level intervention, or perhaps even MainNet system itself.
Suddenly, a very old memory surfaced. His younger sister, Jin So-ra. Though she was fine now, when they were very young, So-ra had once been a "non-existent child" for a while. One day, suddenly, school friends, teachers, even their parents couldn't remember So-ra. As if she had never existed in the world. Back then, only he remembered So-ra clearly. A few days later, everyone miraculously remembered her again, but those few days of emptiness and terror had left deep scars in Do-yoon's mind.
'It's... similar to that time.'
A corner of his chest grew cold and tight. Was this just a simple system error? Or was someone invisible intentionally erasing memories? Why?
Just then, his personal device on the desk vibrated briefly. Caller ID restricted. Do-yoon hesitated for a moment before pressing the call button.
"Hello?"
No sound came from the other end. Silence. And very faint noise, like something flowing from an old radio.
"Who... is this?"
Do-yoon asked again, but still no answer came. And at that moment, his 'Neuro-Echo Scanner' suddenly began sounding warning alarms. An unknown signal was faintly detected on the monitor. It wasn't pointing to specific coordinates or showing clear data. It was just... a weak light that seemed to announce its mere existence.
[Warning: Unidentified signal detected. Source untraceable. Data encryption level EXTREME.]
Then the call ended. Do-yoon blankly put down the receiver. What was that phone call just now? And what was that unidentified signal?
He opened his old leather notebook again. Below the name 'Moon Ga-hyeon', he wrote a few more words with trembling hands.
'Oh Chan-woo. Missing police officer.'
Around this time last year, there had been a case of a police officer who went missing while investigating corporate corruption. At the time, Do-yoon had taken great interest in the case and clearly remembered the face and name of the officer, Oh Chan-woo. But not long after, as if by agreement, no one could remember Oh Chan-woo. News articles, colleagues' testimonies, even his family spoke of him as if he had "never existed." Back then, only he remembered him.
'This is... a pattern.'
He felt like puzzle pieces were fitting together in his head. People disappearing. And one person who remembered them—himself.
"Every morning, a single human being..."
A rumor that circulated like a MainNet ghost story. What if it were real?
Do-yoon looked out at the city through the window. A peaceful scene of countless people busily coming and going. Among them, who would become another "non-existent person" by tomorrow morning? And would he have to become the lone witness of that memory once again?
He made a decision. He couldn't just suffer alone anymore. To find clues to this insane reality, he would willingly reach into the darkness.
A name came to mind. Joo Yi-dam. A free spirit who moved through MainNet's shadows like her own home. She might know something about this strange phenomenon. Or perhaps, she could help him dig into this secret together.