I Don't Believe in Ghosts
I don't believe in ghosts. Even the gisaeng house, which always brimmed with glamour every day, fell eerily silent on this night, much like a quiet Sunday evening. The seductive laughter of the courtesans, the men's drunken cheers, the lively music stirring the festive mood—all had ceased. Only the crickets chirping beyond the papered window filled the hush of the night.
"Mmgh..."
Cheong-yeon, more than usual, couldn't find sleep that night. Perhaps she was unconsciously sensing the events about to unfold. As the night deepened, she tossed and turned beneath the blankets, waiting for slumber to come.
"...Huh?"
As she lay waiting, she suddenly realized the crickets outside had gone quiet. At that moment, a faint man's voice drifted from beyond the closed window. At first, she thought it was just the guards on patrol chatting. But when the voice came again, Cheong-yeon's breath caught in her throat.
"Ch-Che-Cheong-yeon...! I-It's m-me...! Y-Your l-l-lover...!"
That voice, that stammer. It was unmistakable. The man who'd been bragging for weeks that he was Cheong-yeon's lover—Kim O-dong.
Why is he here? How did he get in? The guards are still patrolling, aren't they? No, it's a dream. Just a dream.
Cheong-yeon's naive thoughts shattered with the sound of the window creaking open.
"Ch-Che-Cheong-yeon...! I-I've c-come to t-take you...!"
Cool night air slipped in with the opening window, brushing her cheek. Only then did Cheong-yeon grasp the reality. This was no dream.
"Ch-Cheong-yeon...! G-Get up...! W-We don't have time...!"
The voice called again. In that suffocating moment, Cheong-yeon glanced sideways at the window. Under the dim moonlight, a man poked his head through. Tousled hair, sunken cheeks, pallid face, cracked lips. And eyes like pitch-black voids.
"...!"
Their eyes met. Cheong-yeon felt her heart freeze, stealing her breath. Those eyes gazing at her brimmed with insane joy. Tears welled in the trembling gaze, and the corners of his mouth slowly twisted into a grotesque grin.
"Ch-Cheong-yeon...! S-Sorry for the m-middle of the night...!"
He whispered. Cheong-yeon tried to scream, but her throat locked up. After several gasping breaths, a piercing shriek finally tore free.
"Kyaaaaah!"
Cheong-yeon's scream rocked the silent gisaeng house. The guards, hearing it, rushed to her room. Pointing at the window, she shrieked,
"Outside! Outside! Outsi—huh? Where?"
But Kim O-dong, visible moments ago through the window, had vanished. The guards scoured the area but found no trace of him. Not a single sign of anyone slipping out of the gisaeng house.
"So when the guys went to Kim O-dong's house, it was a total wreck? And his mother had been eaten by wild beasts?"
"Y-Yes. That's right."
Cheong-yeon's eyes were hollow, unmasked even by her heavy makeup.
"I-I thought it was just a dream too. But every time I lie down to sleep, I hear his voice. Saying he's going to take me...!"
She clutched her head with both arms, plugging her ears. Even mid-sentence, it seemed she'd heard him again.
Sitting across from Cheong-yeon, I focused less on her tale and more on her demeanor throughout. The people I'd seen entering the gisaeng house buzzed with excitement, like they were lining up for a haunted attraction. Even the head madam, who should have been distraught, seemed thrilled. I'd dismissed it all as a show.
But not Cheong-yeon. The expressions she'd worn while speaking, the terror-wide eyes quivering wildly, the way she gnawed her nails. If this was acting, she had to be the reincarnation of some famous modern actress. But no modern soul would choose gisaeng work, so it was probably real. And the odds of Kim O-dong being alive were about the same.
Ghosts in this world? Yeah, right.
...Right?
"M-My lord!"
Cheong-yeon, dolled up more extravagantly than ever, grabbed my hand. Her idol-worthy beauty loomed right in my face, and despite thinking of Eori, my heart thudded traitorously.
"Uh, uh, Cheong-yeon. Hang on, let go of my hand."
"My lord! Save me, please! If this goes on, I'll end up married to him, not you!"
"N-No, don't marry me either."
Forgetting my brief flutter, I yanked my hand free in shock.
"My lord!"
She grabbed it again.
"I'm going crazy! Even if I change rooms, he calls me without showing himself! It's quiet now with all these people, but who knows when he'll come back!"
"Let go. People are watching."
The door to our room stood wide open, drawing a crowd. They watched like it was prime theater, faces alight with vicarious thrill.
"Hoho! Look how affectionate they are!"
"That vile ghost! He'll get his divine punishment!"
"I'll cheer for my lord's love!"
Cheer what?! Eori's hollow glare flashed in my mind.
I tried pulling away again, but her grip trembled so pitifully I couldn't.
"...Fine."
"My lord?"
Cheong-yeon looked up at me with faintly teary eyes. Seizing the moment, I slipped my hand free and said,
"I'll help catch the guy."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Starting now."
"Thank you, my lord!"
Whoosh!
"Guh?!"
As I tried to stand, Cheong-yeon lunged into a hug. Her sweet perfume dizzied me, and the soft feminine curves made my head spin. I wanted to push her off, but my 16-year-old vigor rebelled against reason.
"Ooooh!"
Regardless of my inner turmoil, the onlookers cheered like it was their party.
"As expected of our captain! Knew he'd step up!"
"Of course! The captain I know can't stand injustice!"
"Kyaa! So manly, my lord!"
Someone else's tragedy is your comedy, huh. They whooped even as Cheong-yeon trembled in fear and I stood utterly awkward.
"Cheong-yeon."
To pry her off, I placed a hand on her back. Stroking to calm her, the crowd whooped again. Ignoring them, I patted her soothingly.
"Okay, now let go."
"My lord."
Then, in a whisper only I could hear, she murmured,
"Do you truly believe it's a ghost?"
She clutched my clothes desperately, her frail trembling transmitting through.
"I thought it was at first, but there are things that don't add up."
Her voice thick with unease, I lowered mine too.
"You sure?"
"!"
She flinched in my arms.
"You believe me?"
"Yeah. I don't believe in ghosts."
"...I have a favor."
In her brief silence, I sensed pity for my denseness. Loosening her embrace, she whispered,
"Kim O-dong. Please confirm if he's really dead. I trust only you, my lord."
Her eyes, meeting mine, quivered with fear yet held a subtle resolve.
"Hic!"
Settling back, Cheong-yeon covered her face with both hands, pretending terror as she sobbed.
"Captain."
The head madam called from outside with the crowd. Her wrinkled face scrunched in desperate plea.
"As you see, Cheong-yeon's terrified. Why not patrol the grounds and disrupt the evil spirit's energy?"
Poke poke. Cheong-yeon prodded my knee, urging me to go.
"Y-Yeah, sure..."
At her subtle nudge, I stood and headed out. As I slipped on my leather shoes amid the stares, I quietly asked the madam,
"Real ghosts exist?"
"Wouldn't they?"
"Pardon?"
Her desperate mask cracked into a sly grin, just for me, away from the crowd.
"With Cheong-yeon making such a fuss. Gotta be real, right?"
"If you don't really believe, why ask me?"
"Hohoho. It pays."
"..."
"Not throwing the girl to the wolves for cash, mind. She gathered the crowd herself."
Earlier, Cheong-yeon had mentioned the ghost quiets with people around. Her exaggerated shivers and lover-act seemed calculated to draw more—anything to escape the ghost.
"Captain."
Spilling the scheme, the madam proposed partnership.
"Pretend to hunt the ghost, circle the house, and I'll give you 20 nyang."
"You fiend! Begone, you wretched spirit!"
No loss, all gain. I drew my twin chief's revolvers from my bosom, one in each hand. The crowd gasped in awe at my bold stride.
"Th-That's the divine revolver bestowed by His Majesty!"
"Said to rival the ancient Chinese swords Guanjiang and Mo Ye in power!"
"No ghost stands a chance now!"
Wha—Guanjiang? Huh?
Leaving the excited, curious throng, I pretended to search the gisaeng house, mind racing. I'd doubted the ghost story at first. But seeing Cheong-yeon's genuine fear convinced me. Kim O-dong, that creepy bastard, was alive.
So, what now? He was definitely lurking near Cheong-yeon. But this wasn't some deserted spot. And close by, no less.
For quick, precise shots, I held one revolver and moved cautiously. Her bedroom, the practice hall for dance and song, the annex for guests. Nowhere related to Cheong-yeon yielded a trace of him.
Of course—if I could find him, the guards would have long ago. Guess I'd have to check, like she said, if Kim O-dong was really dead.