Making Money
Rattle, rattle.
I sat in the back seat of the shaking bus, staring blankly at the envelope of cash in my hand. It was my daily wage for the day. The envelope was thick, befitting the grueling work, but all it drew from me was a sigh.
"Wonder if there are any other jobs out there."
The horrific accident at the construction site had put the project on indefinite hold. My job had vanished along with it. I needed to find something new, fast…
"Haaah…."
I let out a sigh so deep it could have sunk into the earth and pressed the bus stop button. Once it pulled over, I got off and headed toward my destination.
To finish my earlier train of thought: finding new work wasn't easy. I usually went for the tough, high-paying manual labor gigs. But with winter creeping in, no one was hiring.
What should I do? Maybe sign up for a deep-sea fishing boat? I pondered seriously as I arrived.
Korean University Hospital
I entered the hospital, notified the reception desk of my visit, took the elevator up, and walked down the corridor lined with patient rooms.
Thud, thud.
The place was so deathly quiet that my footsteps echoed clearly down the hall, unmasked by any other noise.
It was a thought I always had coming here: the air in this place felt dense. Warm and sticky. But it wasn't the soothing calm meant for rest—it was like the air had been compressed to trap the pain and desperation inside, keeping it from leaking out.
Pushing through that heavy atmosphere, I reached the door at the end of the corridor.
One final check before going in. I squared my slumped shoulders, forced a faint smile onto my lips. Ahem. Cleared my throat. Ready.
Slide.
As I opened the door, a cold breeze brushed past me—like a window had been left open. Inside, I saw a girl standing by the window, gazing vacantly at the sunset sky.
I approached the girl staring at the sky from the window. Pale hair, red eyes. She should be out playing with friends her age, but instead she was confined to this hospital. My cousin, Yuseoah.
"I'm here."
"Yeah, I was waiting."
She turned to look at me, a faint smile on her lips as our eyes met. I averted my gaze awkwardly, helped her to the bed, and closed the window.
"It's cold—you might catch a chill. Did the nurse say it's okay to open it?"
"Yeah, for a little bit."
"I see."
The conversation didn't last long. But it wasn't awkward. When you visit the same hospital room every day, running out of things to talk about is inevitable.
"How was work today? Tough, right?"
"Huh? Oh, no. Same as always. Manageable. Haha."
I raised both arms in an exaggerated pose to show I was fine. I tensed my trembling arms and legs, worn from the hard labor, hiding my frailty. She giggled and smiled—mission accomplished.
"Did Sis stop by earlier?"
"Yeah, Unnamed Older Sister came by for a bit."
We'd lost our parents young and been raised by our aunt and uncle. But they were gone now too. It was just me, my little sister, and big sis.
And then Yuseoah fell ill. The doctor said it was a disease never seen before. Not only was there no cure—they didn't even know how to keep her alive long-term.
All I could do was visit every day and keep her company.
"Guess I should head out now."
"Thanks for coming today, bro."
She beamed as she saw me off. She acted casual, but her eyes were shadowed. Eyes that didn't think about tomorrow, like some pitiful movie heroine.
I could see right through her forced smile—she didn't want to worry me. We were family, after all. You can't fool family.
"…Yeah, see you tomorrow."
Knowing that, all I could do was smile back.
I left the room, trudged to the elevator, and pressed the button. That's when a doctor in a white coat approached me.
"Are you Yuseoah's guardian?"
"Haaah…."
How many sighs was that today?
I stared at my now-empty bank account after paying the hospital bills.
They say sighing chases away good luck. I didn't buy into superstitions, but still—I held back another one, worried my already nonexistent fortune might flee entirely.
If I lost any more luck here, what then? No clue.
"Maybe walk home today?"
Even bus fare felt wasteful. It wasn't far—walking it was.
'Are you Yuseoah's guardian?'
The doctor had brought good news. A new drug trial in the US—she could join if we applied. It was from a world-renowned outfit, no side effect worries. His personal opinion: she had to participate for any shot at treatment.
But money was the issue.
Even without major treatment, the bills were brutal. An overseas trial on top? No way I could swing it now.
Remembering that nearly drew another sigh. I clamped my mouth shut. Then it hit me—what am I even doing?—and a hollow laugh escaped.
I just wanted to get home and rest.
"Kyaa!"
Lost in thought, staring at the ground, I looked up at the lively laughter. A group of middle school girls walked by, laughing and chatting like a scene from a teen drama.
"…."
Seeing them choked me up. My one and only little sister lived in terror of dying any moment. At an age when she should be laughing and playing like them.
Ah. Realization dawned.
"Haaah…."
I decided not to hold back the sighs bubbling from deep inside anymore.
Good luck flying away? What a joke. Things couldn't get more hopeless.
I hung my head and trudged home.
"I'm home."
The cramped house felt empty, no signs of life. I washed up and sat at the table. Side dishes from big sis and a note waited.
'Eat first—I'll be late today.'
She must've come home from work, made these, then headed out again. Big sis was all about responsibility. She spent half her day working but always made sure I ate.
You don't have to do this.
I picked up my chopsticks and eyed the modest spread—no meat, just basics. But I knew the love in them. Squeezing time to shop, watching cooking shows to learn despite not being great at it.
I knew better than anyone. I'd seen it every day.
"Itadakimasu."
I polished off every last bite.
After washing the dishes, I lay on my rickety bed and scrolled job sites.
"Need something high-paying."
As I browsed, my phone rang. Caller ID: Gusechan.
"Hello?"
[What're you up to?]
"Getting ready for bed."
[What? Don't—come out now!]
"Can't. Gotta wake up early tomorrow."
[No need. You got fired, remember?]
"Exactly why. Gotta line up the next gig."
[Heh heh. That's why I called. Got a high-paying job for ya.]
"Pass on anything illegal."
[What do you take me for? Totally legit! You'll love it.]
I hesitated. Gusechan looked thuggish, but he was reliable. Low odds of shady stuff.
Still, you never know people's hearts. He could drag me to Cambodia or something. I was about to politely decline.
[Come on! I'll buy meat!]
Hmm. Might as well hear him out.
"Ten million won."
Chomp, chomp. "What?"
"Hey, finish chewing first!"
"What'd you say? Pay's how much?"
"Listen close—I'll say it again. Ten million won."
Gulp. I swallowed the half-chewed meat without thinking and glared at Gusechan, eyes wide.
"You sure that's not ille—cough! Cough!"
"Dude, chew before swallowing."
I chugged the water he handed me; the lump slid down.
"Whew… Okay, explain. What job pays that much? And it's really legit?"
Gusechan grinned at my shock and dove in.
"Listen—magic exists in this world."
My jaw dropped. Not from belief—from sheer absurdity.
"You… still stuck in middle school delusions at your age? Explains the weird talismans you carry…."
"No, wait! Hear me out first! Don't look at me like that!"
At his earnest plea, I figured I'd listen. He was buying meat, after all—manners.
"This world has a hidden side. Ghosts, yokai—they're not just stories. They're real."
"Mm."
Chomp. The meat was so good, it vanished despite my full stomach. Third bowl of rice down. Mysteries of the human body.
"The job? Hunting yokai and ghosts, selling the byproducts to those who need 'em."
"Mm-hmm. One more pork belly, please!"
I slapped fresh meat on the grill, drooling as it sizzled. Too bad I can't take leftovers. Would be nice with big sis after her shift.
Staring at the meat, I felt a prickling gaze. Gusechan pouted.
"You listening?"
"Yeah, 'course."
"Doubt it. You don't believe me, do you?"
"N-no…?"
Shoot. I'd pissed off my meat benefactor. How to fix it? Then he sighed, snatched a piece I'd grilled, and ate.
Chomp. "Why not? You've seen the hidden side yourself."
"What're you on about? When?"
"That chink foreman. You cursed him to death with that doll."
"What?"
I scowled at Gusechan, who was wrapping meat in lettuce.
"The foreman's death—that Curse Doll you used."
"Nonsense."
Ruining my meal with this crap. The image of the foreman's mangled corpse amid the rebar killed my appetite. I set down my chopsticks and eyed Gusechan scooping rice into his stew.
"You seriously think that straw doll was a real Curse Doll? You didn't know if it was fake or not either. How can you be so sure?"
I'd wondered myself. The timing was suspicious—smashed the doll, foreman drops dead. But logically? Nah.
"Didn't know then. But I do now."
Gusechan smirked and shoved his phone at me.
Seoul Mage Community
"What's this? Mage community?"
"You see it too, huh?"
His explanation floored me. Normies can't see it—only those with magic talent. I didn't buy it at first.
But the proof? Undeniable.
"What the…!"
In a deserted alley by the grill house, Gusechan conjured a blue ghost fire in midair. And made it dance.
"Believe me now?"
"No… what is this…."
"I know it's a shock. Why tell you? Simple: you have talent. That's why I'm recruiting."
"Talent?"
"Heard on the community: Curse Dolls aren't for killing. Normally."
"Then why'd the foreman…."
"Depends on the user. You killed with one that's supposed to just torment. That's talent, plain and simple!"
He grabbed my shoulders, eyes blazing.
"Please! I can't wait to see what magic you'll show! A genius like you—what path will you take? Please! Team up with me! Become a mage!"
I mulled it over, ignoring his desperate plea.
Pay: ten million. But facing unknown magic, ghosts, yokai. Way riskier than construction.
But hesitating? A luxury I couldn't afford.
"Fine. I'm in."
I needed the money.