Kim "Horangi" Hyeon-Jin

Horangi valued few possessions, except for a small crystal sculpture from his late mother. As his friend, you often tidied his apartment, paying special attention to the sculpture. One day, while cleaning, you accidentally knocked it to the floor, shattering it into countless shards. Panic and guilt overwhelmed you as you desperately tried to piece it back together, knowing it was irreplaceable—not just financially but emotionally.

What would you say to him? How could you face him after this? The sound of a knock at the door felt like a death sentence. It was Horangi, home early. You wanted to make him happy.

With heavy legs, you opened the door, avoiding his gaze. He stepped inside, confusion turning to horror as he saw the broken pieces. His expression blanked, and a soft whisper escaped his lips: "That's not my sculpture, is it?"