#34

“I’m not that important. Detective Oh exaggerated. He’s a bit of a fibber, you know.”

He joked, trying to lighten the mood because the man looked so serious.

Instantly, the man’s face flushed. Not from embarrassment, but anger. He stood up abruptly, and the proprietress, who’d belatedly arrived with the menu, recoiled in surprise at his intensity.

“I’ll be going now.”

“Mr. Ki-beom, Mr. Ki-beom!”

The man left the shop.

“One iced Americano and one iced tea, to go, please.”

Tae-heun quickly ordered, picking up the shopping bag and food bag left on the sofa. He chuckled wryly, watching the man’s retreating back. It was absurd. What exactly was wrong this time? Damn it. He muttered a low curse.

In the car on the way back, the man remained silent. He didn’t even touch the iced tea Tae-heun had bought until the ice had completely melted. He went to the youth center, covered himself with that familiar blanket, and tried to sleep on the sofa. Tae-heun lay down opposite him.

Unable to sleep, he thought. He thought he understood why the man had gotten angry. He didn’t know how close he was to Detective Oh, but it meant that he wasn’t someone Tae-heun could casually joke about and belittle.

Understanding didn’t mean he agreed. Honestly, it wasn’t like he’d hurled insults; it was just a joke about him being a fibber. Why get so angry over something so trivial? Fueled by pointless jealousy and resentment, Tae-heun glared at the man.

The man woke up at exactly 3:30, washed his face, and left for work, leaving Tae-heun behind. He was still a kind person. Before leaving, he told Tae-heun when he’d be back and told him to go home early if he got tired. He even asked about dinner, forgetting about the snacks he’d bought.

“I put them in the fridge, so don’t worry and go.”

He desperately wanted to follow, but decided to hold back this time.

Only the youth center president, Choi Gi-cheol, and he remained in the office. Choi Gi-cheol was practically glued to the monitor, engrossed in whatever he was looking at. Bored and restless, Tae-heun flipped through a manga when his phone vibrated. It was an unfamiliar number.

“This is Kim Tae-heun.”

As soon as he identified himself, a familiar voice greeted him.

“Just a moment.”

When Tae-heun stood up with his phone, Choi Gi-cheol looked over. His gaze lingered on the phone before drifting away.

He went downstairs and stood where he could see the CCTV in front of the center. It was late, so there wasn’t a soul in front of the center or in the alley.

“Go ahead.”

The call went on for a while.

Listening to the voice on the other end of the phone, Tae-heun looked up at the sky. It was disgustingly blue.

The ten-minute call left his phone scorching hot. He snapped the phone shut and habitually put a cigarette in his mouth. He chewed on the filter without lighting it. A bitter taste rose in his mouth.

Having woken up at 4:30 AM, the day felt incredibly long. It was only four in the afternoon, and three more hours until dinner. Suddenly feeling dizzy, Tae-heun returned to the youth center office.

The youth center president, Choi Gi-cheol, was unusually away from the monitor, sitting on the sofa. He held his phone in his chubby hands, opening and closing the flip phone.

“What’s your phone number? I won’t be here long, but just in case.”

“Of course. I was just about to ask. It’s 011-88X-37XX.”

“Let me see, 011-88…”

After several attempts, Choi Gi-cheol finally entered the number and pressed the call button. Tae-heun’s phone vibrated. A number starting with 017 appeared.

“That’s my number. Save it.”

Before putting his phone in his pants pocket, Choi Gi-cheol meticulously wiped his fingerprints.

Silence fell. Tae-heun wasn’t uncomfortable with the silence, but the other man was. Choi Gi-cheol, who usually avoided eye contact, glanced at Tae-heun and only coughed awkwardly. If he was so uncomfortable, he could have worked on the computer, but he remained seated. He seemed to have something to say, but Tae-heun didn’t want to ask first, so he opened the manga he’d been flipping through.

After some time, Choi Gi-cheol called out, “Ahem, uh.” He finally spoke.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, anything.”

“That, uh, what’s the real reason you’re staying here?”

“Vacation.”

He said it casually.

He’d told the village head and the neighbors that he’d met Detective Oh through work and had taken a leave due to recent difficulties. He’d said he’d come to this village because Detective Oh had boasted so much about it, and he’d been tricked, adding a playful tone. Secretly, regardless of what they thought, everyone seemed to believe him.

But the youth center president was asking for the real reason. Though he acted nonchalant, he was inwardly tense.

“Spending your precious vacation in this backwater?”

“Yes. Didn’t you hear from Detective Oh Daeho?”

He tried to sound relaxed.

Choi Gi-cheol dragged out his words, saying, “I heard something…”

“Uh, actually, it’s because of the land, right? For investment purposes.”

He said this, his gaze lingering on Tae-heun’s wristwatch. He must have recognized the expensive watch, worth a decent car. Otherwise, the youth center president wouldn’t have randomly mentioned “investment.”

“The land here is significantly cheaper than the surrounding areas.”

He laughed. At the same time, he felt relieved. The tension was so brief, the anticlimactic ending was almost embarrassing.

“But the area near Ki-beom’s place will never appreciate. It’s at the foot of the mountain, so the transportation is inconvenient. The place where Manager Kim is staying is even worse.”

Choi Gi-cheol leaned slightly forward.

“Haven’t you heard any rumors?”

“Rumors? What kind?”

When Tae-heun pretended to be interested, Choi Gi-cheol lowered his voice, as if he’d expected this.

“About the place where Manager Kim is staying, you know, other than Ki-beom’s house.”

“What about that house?”

“You haven’t heard either. Tsk tsk. Daeho is really too much.”

It felt strange and awkward that Choi Gi-cheol called Detective Oh “Daeho.” Detective Oh wasn’t from this village, but he’d spent his childhood here following his father, who worked at the Hwangmu-eup police station. He’d graduated from the elementary and middle schools in town, needless to say. So he would have known the youth center president, who was probably around the same age. They might even have been classmates.

“That place used to be a shrine.”

The youth center president’s voice trembled.

“A shrine?”

This was the first he’d heard of it.

No wonder something resembling a flag had been hanging on the clothesline; it had been a shaman’s residence.

“Yes, a shrine. A very powerful shaman lived there. She handled all the big and small events in our village, didn’t she? She performed rain prayers and memorial services.”

Choi Gi-cheol excitedly recounted anecdotes about the shaman. The story was so boring, Tae-heun wondered why he was being told this. He was about to interrupt when Choi Gi-cheol said, “She used to fight with Ki-beom’s mother every time she performed a ritual. Rituals are bound to be noisy. Other neighbors wouldn’t dare say anything for fear of getting beaten, but Ki-beom’s mother always went to the shaman’s house and cursed her out. That woman was pretty, but she had quite the temper.”

He started talking about the man’s mother. Tae-heun, who had been half-listening, straightened up.

“Really? Mr. Ki-beom takes after his mother.”

Tae-heun imagined the woman, picturing the man’s handsome face.

“But after the shaman died in an accident, a lot of bad things started happening in the village. Bad things happened to Ki-beom’s family too.”

Choi Gi-cheol, who had been so excited a moment ago, spoke in a somewhat dejected tone.

“Bad things? Could you tell me what happened?”

He must have been too eager. Choi Gi-cheol, who seemed about to tell him, waved his hands, as if telling him not to ask.

“I can’t tell you that. Anyway, I’m telling you because it seems Manager Kim doesn’t know. It’s unsettling, isn’t it? Think about it carefully, and if you change your mind, tell me anytime. We have an empty room at my house. I’ll give it to you cheaper than Ki-beom’s place.”

Damn it. What is he saying?

Tae-heun felt deflated by the conversation, which had only laid the groundwork without revealing anything substantial. He even suspected that the story about the shaman and the accident might be fabricated.

“And about the land, my father knows an amazing geomantic site. Manager Kim will figure it out, but if you’re interested, feel free to ask. That, uh, Park Juim, is he Manager Kim’s subordinate? If you’d told me earlier, we could have had a meal together. Let’s have a drink sometime. Don’t go to the real estate office in town unnecessarily. Okay?”

After saying this, Choi Gi-cheol licked his chapped lips. Having finished what he wanted to say, he let out a big sigh, showing his satisfaction.

He wanted to ignore him, but Choi Gi-cheol was a prominent figure in the village. Worried about any negative impact on the man, he bowed politely.

“Thank you for the valuable information, Hyungnim.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. We help each other out, right?”

Choi Gi-cheol smiled kindly. His cloudy eyes darted around, scanning Tae-heun, somehow reminding him of Lee Hyunjun. The face he didn’t want to think about overlapped in his mind. His arrogant demeanor, acting like he was something special despite his lack of ability. His purple lips and ugly face. His thick chin and belly.

Suddenly, he felt a lump in his throat, and nausea rose.

“Ugh.”

Without even trying to hold it back, he vomited everything in his stomach.

Choi Gi-cheol recoiled in disgust.