#03

Finally, only Father and Seon-jae were left. Father gazed intently at the well-kept garden and the weathered two-story house with a vacant look in his eyes. Then he bent down one last time to bow.

Since Seon-jae was standing in front of him, it seemed as if he was bowing to Seon-jae, but he was actually bidding farewell to the house. Very politely, it felt as if he was saying that he had been well, thanks to it. Father left the house with his shoulders slumped, and that was the last glimpse of him.

It was later that he reappeared at that house with his wife. After stabbing a young man who had been guarding the house, they committed suicide together. At that time, Seon-jae was busy entertaining guests at a golf course in the countryside.

Uncle scoffed when he heard that a shaman was called out of the blue to perform a ritual somewhere. He never imagined it would be at that house, nor did he expect that the seemingly pathetic head of the household would kill someone with his wife and then hang themselves side by side from the living room beam.

Even if he had known, he would have done the same thing. Seon-jae was like that back then. He felt not a shred of guilt. He simply thought, “What a vicious bunch.”

But he dreamt the same dream again. It always started with that garden. Ever since he decided to abandon his name, it had been like this. Had he slept for just over an hour? Unable to hold back, he found himself in Seon-jae’s dream. He opened his palm. For a moment, it looked as if it was stained with the juice of a balsam flower, but it was an illusion.

The lifeless gaze of Father relentlessly pursued him, as if it were the last farewell.

Seon-jae clutched his head.

D-2

The office was like a sauna. Even just sitting still, sweat dripped down. The weather had suddenly soared above 30 degrees, causing the fan to run incessantly. Nevertheless, it was insufficient to block the heat emanating from dozens of men, computers, and monitors.

The section chief’s office was no different. The stench prevented them from opening the windows, making it even hotter than the office. It would have been nice to turn on the air conditioning, but there was none except in the executive offices.

Seon-jae sat blankly, unable to lower the blinds, as the sun streamed in. He had chewed on the cigarette in his mouth so much that the filter tore, leaving a bitter taste. He spat out the cigarette.

Files waiting for approval were scattered across his desk. Next to them, yesterday’s Evening Newspaper and today’s Morning Newspaper clamored to be read. He read the Private Circulation Memos received from sources in the stock market, but nothing stuck in his memory.

He let out a long sigh. He pressed his palm against his dry eyes. It was all because of that damn dream.

Seon-jae liked making eye contact with others. Most people would look away in less than five seconds, but in that brief moment, he could read their emotions. He could sense not only hatred, disgust, and contempt but also affection and even a grotesque level of desire.

Sometimes, he mistook it for a contest of pride and engaged in staring contests. While he scoffed at their foolishness inwardly, Seon-jae willingly accepted the challenge.

The head of that two-story house was like that at first. He glared with bulging eyes, pouring out all kinds of hateful emotions towards Seon-jae and his friends. It would have been better if he had despised and hated them until the end. In the end, he blamed the victim who committed suicide.

In recent days, staying up all night had become common. Seon-jae was not the type to be greatly affected by a lack of sleep. The problem was his lethargy. He was forcing himself to work somehow, but there were times when he couldn’t even lift a finger like now. No matter how much he struggled, his body wouldn’t move. In this state, if someone were to thrust a knife at him, he wouldn’t be able to resist and would get stabbed to death. Perhaps that would be easier.

His lethargy was increasingly prolonged, and the frequency of it was rising. What was the point of this happening at such an important time? It was maddening.

The office phone rang. A small display on the phone showed a number. It was a call Seon-jae had to answer. But his hand wouldn’t move. Seon-jae looked down at his right hand resting on the armrest of the chair. Anyone would think he was paralyzed. He laughed. Even in the midst of it all, he found humor.

Just before the ringing stopped, he finally picked up the receiver. The call was short, but he missed the other person’s words several times.

Why are you like this, not like you, Section Chief? Are you with a woman?

The other person teased him with a joke. An aide to a recently elevated politician acted as if he were the politician himself.

“I think I’ve been a bit weak lately because I’ve been entertaining the lawmakers a bit too much. Please understand, Aide.”

He laughed it off with a smirk.

After barely finishing the call, Seon-jae forgot what the aide had requested. He had said it was important, but what was it? As he mulled it over, he abruptly stood up from his chair. He grabbed the blue sports bag placed in one corner of the office. He thought some exercise might clear his mind.

As he left the section chief’s office, he saw dozens of desks displayed in the office, which was about 60 pyeong. Only the ten desks directly in front of the section chief’s office belonged to people Seon-jae managed, while the rest were separate departments starting with various names.

Since there were no partitions, he could roughly tell which department was which by the shabby signs hanging from the ceiling. Male employees in white shirts were constantly typing, looking at monitors and documents, and talking on the phone. Some employees who seemed a bit free would call over female staff in dark uniforms to run errands for coffee or cigarettes. Even with the millennium upon them, the office atmosphere was hardly different from that of 1999.

“Yeon-hee, if the president looks for me, tell him I’m at the gym.”

“Yes, understood.”

The dedicated accounting staff from the strategic planning department jumped up to respond.

“Section Chief, there’s something that needs your signature this morning. It’s on your desk.”

A guy named Section Chief Park rushed over and said.

“I’ll do it after I come back from exercising.”

“It’s urgent; it needs to be done this morning.”

“I said I’ll do it after I come back.”

When he growled lowly, the guy quickly tucked his tail and disappeared back to his seat.

As Seon-jae passed by, the head of the HR department rushed over to speak to him. Uncle had finally posted a job opening. Naturally, several requests for favors had come in, and Uncle was using that as an excuse to go out for entertainment.

“Chief Nam will take care of it. Just let me know when the interview date and time are set.”

He waved his hand dismissively like shooing away a fly.

As he was about to get on the elevator, he changed his mind. With the sports bag in hand, he headed for the emergency stairs. Instead of going down, he walked up to the fifth floor, where Uncle and Lee Hyun-joon were staying.

The secretary tried to stop him, but Seon-jae opened the president’s office door. Uncle was on the phone with someone. Even though it was a phone call, the other person seemed to be of considerable status, as Uncle held the receiver with both hands, nodding repeatedly. Seon-jae entered without Uncle noticing, so absorbed was he in the call.

The situation did not look good.

“Why?”

Uncle asked.

Seon-jae swallowed the words he had originally intended to say and instead held up the sports bag.

“I’m going to exercise. I just wanted to let you know in case you were looking for me.”

Uncle gestured with his chin towards the door, indicating for him to leave.

“By the way, I heard you almost had an accident yesterday?”

He called Seon-jae back just as he was about to step out.

“It was just a minor collision.”

“Weren’t you in an accident last week too?”

“Was I?”

He feigned ignorance.

“Are you wandering around with your mind elsewhere? Do you want to die?”

“I’ll be careful.”

“You know better than anyone how important this time is, yet you can’t even take care of your health.”

“That’s why I’m going to exercise. I’ll be careful.”

Seeing that the nagging would go on if he stayed, Seon-jae politely bowed and turned to leave, even though he could see Uncle was about to say more.

“Damn it, just turn on the air conditioning already.”

He muttered.

Seon-jae sat blankly on the bench in the gym locker room. It had been two hours. He had been full of motivation when he came here. However, he didn’t even want to unzip the sports bag.

The gym manager and staff brought coffee and drinks, and noticing something was off, they repeatedly asked Seon-jae if he was okay or if something was wrong. They seemed worried that someone might drop dead right there. He sat in the locker room in his suit until he finally snapped back to reality at the sound of his phone vibrating.

It was the aide he had spoken to earlier.

Section Chief, are you still there?

“Yes?”

No, I mean, is that painting still available? Our congressman is really eager to buy it, so it hasn’t been sold yet, right?

Ah, the painting. So that was what the aide had requested earlier. Pretending to confirm, he asked for the artist’s name. There hadn’t been any customers expressing interest yet, but he pretended that he had set it aside especially for the congressman.

You’re the best, Section Chief. Let’s have a drink later.

He twisted his words to imply that he would get a free drink just for buying a single painting. The more money people had, the more power they wielded, the more they wanted to take rather than give. They acted as if they were entitled to everything, trying to gain something for nothing.