Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Karma
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I'd sought help from the internet before over inter-floor noise issues.
That time, it was more like noise through the walls.
Put simply, I was suffering from the racket coming from next door.
The advice I'd seen online boiled down to acting like a total lunatic.
📰 Forum Advice [Wear a hat or something and a mask to hide your face. Then talk like a psycho, pausing to laugh every time, and they'll shut up.] Something along those lines.
I was so pissed I followed it to the letter, and sure enough, the neighbors went dead silent. They even cleared out a month later.
It was a great way to resolve things without a big confrontation, but no chance it'd work in this situation.
So I went hunting for new ideas and searched up "inter-floor noise solutions."
A flood of posts popped up.
News articles, personal essays, community threads—you name it.
I clicked on one with a particularly eye-catching title.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ What to Do About Inter-Floor Noise? Suddenly started banging like crazy from yesterday. What's the deal? It was super quiet at first, but a month after moving in, upstairs is thumping like there's a war going on... 💬 Comments — Anonymous Jackpot lol — Anonymous Must've been off on some trip. ⭐ Top Comment — Anonymous Welcome back... We were all... waiting for you... — OP No, I asked how to solve it. — Anonymous ↳ Reply Read the announcement properly. The comment telling me to check the announcement had me diving right in.
But there was no announcement.
"Seriously."
I was dumbfounded, so I just kept scrolling through the posts.
Everyone was furious. And who could blame them?
Here I was, stressed out after just one day of thumping, and these folks were stuck living with it unsolved.
I had no intention of endorsing murder, but suddenly those news stories about inter-floor noise stabbings made a lot more sense.
"...Scary stuff."
Our place seemed tame by comparison.
Other apartments had sneezes audible, TV chatter—nothing like that here.
Just those vibrations. The only sound was that telltale human thrum of running feet.
And that made me even madder.
Was it really that hard to teach kids not to run indoors?
Fueled by rage, I devoured more posts.
People's revenge tactics against upstairs neighbors varied wildly.
Rubber mallets were standard issue. Some went for massagers or subwoofers as counterattacks.
One smoked cigs in the bathroom to waft smoke upstairs.
Summer balcony laundry time? Fire up the grill with fish.
I chuckled reading them, but actually trying any felt... iffy.
Sure, great for fighting back, but it'd turn into all-out war.
"Hmm..."
I was pissed, revenge burning in my chest.
But I wasn't quite poisonously enraged enough to dive in without hesitation.
Plus, a twinge of annoyance.
Did I really have to go this far in my own home?
And I had money—did I need to hassle with petty battles like this?
Then another post from a different site caught my eye.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Inter-Floor Noise Solution Experience Hello. This is the person who once told their realtor they wanted to move upstairs to escape downstairs noise. Last week! Finally! The agent called. I bolted to the office and signed on the spot. Moved in thrilled, stomped around with my heels day and night. A few days later, downstairs came knocking. I flung open the door, buzzing with excitement—they looked utterly flustered. I screamed internally. Kept a straight face, gave a curt greeting, said since I'd just moved in please get along, and shut the door... "This is it."
The moment I read it, all the pent-up frustration came flooding out.
In a capitalist world, money solves everything.
That's just how it works.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The next morning.
On my way to the real estate office.
Sunday vibe had the neighborhood buzzing.
Not a ton to see around here, but with all the parks and such, weekends drew crowds.
Come to think of it, exactly a week ago at this hour, I'd been at the office.
More companies work Sundays than you'd think.
They usually tossed in holiday pay, but my old job? Stock the office supplies or cough up cash at forced team dinners instead...
Never mind.
No point dwelling on the past.
"Nice and breezy."
The weather really drove home that summer was fading into fall.
The cool wind cleared my head a bit.
Yesterday's noise felt like a distant memory, my mind settling.
Which sparked a sudden thought.
'Am I wasting money here?'
Money spent to torment others is the most regrettable kind.
Philosophers called wasting time and cash on revenge sheer folly.
But if this cash wasn't for revenge—if it was to escape this mess?
'Not such a waste.'
Inter-floor noise has no easy fix, no matter who you are.
Hell, even prosecutors have moved over it—imagine that.
So dropping a few hundred million now? It was to defend my nest, not harass anyone.
'Kinda mental gymnastics...'
A little self-justification, sure.
But I headed into the real estate office anyway.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Park O-nam, who'd opened shop weekends instead of weekdays to snag more clients.
Regretting not taking weekends off like normal folk, he eyed the customer ahead.
Grateful, of course.
Her commission alone? Around 4.5 million won.
A day's grind netting double a typical salaryman's monthly take.
Issue was, his past screw-ups kept nagging him.
And now she showed up in pricey threads, not even hiding it anymore.
Beaten-up sneakers? Luxury brand.
Pants unfamiliar, but the casual shirt? Designer.
'...This is insane.'
Park O-nam more terrified than last time.
But a fat commission beckoned, so he squared his shoulders.
She was here for an Allstate purchase.
The upstairs upstairs from her previous buy.
'8th floor... and 10th.'
Wealthy folks snapping up multiples in the same building? Common.
Rent 'em out or flip for appreciation—standard plays.
'Must've panned out nice.'
Cautious types often tested the waters by living there first.
Those were the smart investors.
Gauging if it'd pay off firsthand? Crucial.
Park O-nam inwardly admired Choi Yeon-bi.
'Chaebol stock. Early training makes the difference, huh.'
Not that groundbreaking, really.
But the truly loaded skipped the legwork.
So her? Chaebol or not, hands-on verifier, no extravagance.
Park O-nam pegged her for future big leagues.
Decided to help max to stick in her memory.
"Here's the current market rates. The Allstate units you grabbed in 1102 Building rose about 100 million overall, but that's average. High floors climbed, low ones dipped."
Choi Yeon-bi barely glanced, eyes dull on the prices.
Then.
"Sorry, not here for market checks... I really want the 10th floor. Tough ask?"
Genuine apology in her gaze at Park O-nam.
He blinked, startled, then smiled, slid the sheets aside, and sat.
"Mind sharing why? 10th floor's occupied already... Owner lives there, no sale intent means I can't make magic happen."
Choi Yeon-bi pondered, her usual stoic face twisting slightly.
Deep in thought, she nodded resolutely and spoke.
"Reason's tricky to explain... Fine, 10th floor at market plus 500 million."
"P-Pardon??"
Park O-nam gawked, eyes bulging.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Downstairs quiet these days?"
Park Chang-rae, prepping for work, asked Song Yeon-hee mid-makeup.
"Yeah. Ever since we went down and said our piece, radio silence. No management complaints either."
"Told ya—kids these days gobble up weird internet crap and ape it. Little upstairs noise and they snitch."
Glad it'd blown over, he shrugged on his jacket feeling smug about confronting them.
"Right? How much noise can kids make running anyway."
Song Yeon-hee glanced at Park Min-jun, already scampering around that morning.
A tiny kid shaking the downstairs? Absurd.
"Upstairs is quiet as can be."
She eyed the ceiling.
The folks who'd just moved upstairs yesterday? Eerily silent before—like no one lived there.
Convinced downstairs was oversensitive, Song Yeon-hee and Park Chang-rae chatted about their lucky break.
Suddenly, the ceiling erupted in thumps.
Thud... Rumble... "What the—?"
Park Chang-rae startled at the boom, eyes snapping up.
"Upstairs?"
Song Yeon-hee, lipstick in hand, jumped and stared ceilingward too.
Lipstick smeared across her cheek.
Thud thud thud thud "New movers? Saw a cherry picker out front earlier."
Song Yeon-hee mentioned spotting it when opening curtains that morning.
Quick turnaround after moving puzzled her a tad, but she was pleased deep down.
Proof this Allstate spot was hot property.
Park Chang-rae saw it differently.
"...Annoying. Sounds like all-day racket—I'll head up and warn 'em. Moving or not, can't be this loud."
Fearful of nonstop noise ahead, he stormed out.
Up the stairs to the new upstairs.
Rang the bell.
Intercom camera flicked on like they'd been waiting.
[Who is it?] Vaguely familiar voice.
Park Chang-rae cocked his head but couldn't place it.
"Your downstairs neighbor. Too noisy since morning. Keep it down, please."
[Aren't you being a bit sensitive?] "Huh?"
[Moving day's bound to be a little noisy—what's with the complaining?] Uncannily familiar lines.
And that voice—he'd heard it somewhere.
His brain pieced it together.
One damning realization.
"Ah...!!"
[What a clown.] With that, the camera light winked out.