The Black Cat Wants Out
Wow, the smog.
Maybe it was because I'd been living in pristine countryside air, but the moment I entered Seoul, my eyes stung and my throat felt scratchy.
Still, since I'd made the trip, I treated myself to a sauna and got my hair trimmed.
"Oh my! I thought this style would really suit you, so I gave it a try, and it turned out even better than I expected? Just goes to show, the key to any style is the face."
At the hairdresser's compliment, I straightened up and turned my head this way and that, checking out the new haircut.
"I like it."
"You have such a handsome face and a beautifully shaped head, it only took a few snips of the scissors to bring the whole look together."
I'd always been told I had a pleasant face, to be fair.
But something's different.
The weight loss had sharpened my jawline, and my nose seemed higher than before. Above all, my eyes had truly changed.
"Clear-eyed crazy" doesn't even begin to cover it.
Madness steeped in bright, sparkling eyes. The kind of gaze that seemed capable of seeing through any lie, all the way down to a person's soul.
Just as the spirit dwelling in the white porcelain jar had said — maybe I really was a medium on a whole different level.
"You'll get everything the way you want it. You're a cut above the rest."
Everything the way I want it?
I'd find out soon enough, one step at a time.
I left the hairdresser a small tip. Funny how being rich had taught me to spread a little of it around.
Afterward, I stopped by a department store in Myeongdong to do some shopping, then headed over to Jongno. I had an appointment with Lee Ho-young, the head of Miho Gallery.
"So this is where you set up shop?"
Miho Gallery occupied a sleek, newly built building in Jongno. It was close to Insadong, yet you could feel Ho-young's determination to draw a line between himself and all that musty old-fashionedness.
"Welcome, Sunbae-nim!"
Lee Ho-young greeted me warmly, practically fussing over me.
"Wow, seeing you up close like this — you really are handsome, Sunbae-nim. What's changed? Ah-ha! You got a haircut! Very sharp, haha."
"I do clean up rather well, don't I?"
I played along halfheartedly as I took a slow look around the gallery.
Inside the high-ceilinged space, a tiny handful of exhibits stood bathed in pin-spot lighting — but honestly, it looked like nothing more than window dressing.
"This way, please."
Had I let my disappointment at the mediocre antiques on display show? Ho-young eagerly offered to take me into his inner office.
"Sure, why not."
I nodded and followed him inside.
It's even bigger in here?
Past a titanium door lay what looked like his personal space. But why did the back of my neck suddenly prickle?
I was scanning the room when I froze.
"What the—!"
A black cat with glowing yellow eyes was perched atop the display case holding a rust-red longsword, staring straight at me.
"You scared me."
"Haha, so you recognize a Goguryeo-era longsword when you see one. I knew you'd have a keen interest in fine antiques and artifacts, Sunbae-nim."
"No, that's not what I meant—"
I was about to explain that I'd been startled by the black cat, when the creature leaped down from the display case and started speaking Tungusic.
"Don't tell anyone you saw me. They'll think I've lost my mind."
Wait — how on earth was I understanding this ancient language?
The black cat padded past me, then climbed up Lee Ho-young's body like a tree. The moment it settled on his head—
"Ugh, my head."
Ho-young felt the headache coming, fished out a Tylenol with practiced ease, swallowed it, and ushered me to a seat.
"I've been working myself too hard lately, so I've got tension headaches. Must be nice being you, Sunbae-nim — you went camping and stumbled onto a three-billion-won meteorite."
"There you go again, throwing out prices like it's nothing."
Bidding on a meteorite he hadn't even laid eyes on? He was clearly angling to lowball me on the assumption that I was holding something even bigger and better than the one I'd already sold to the state.
"Isn't trust the foundation of business? Keep this up and I'm going to lose interest."
"Oh my, my! I completely forgot it doesn't work on you, Sunbae-nim. Blame the headache."
Ho-young pointed at his own head with his index finger. The cat perched on top of it then showed its bright red tongue and muttered:
"This jerk lies through his teeth every time he opens his mouth. If he doesn't watch himself, someone's going to clock him from behind."
I looked away.
I know nothing, meow. Nothing at all, meow. Go away, meow.
I tried my best not to listen to the cat as I sat down on the sofa and crossed my legs.
"No staff up here, I take it?"
I asked only to find out whether there was anyone else for the cat to pester.
"The staff offices are on the floor below. This is where I meet clients."
"I see."
So I'd just have to keep dealing with Ho-young and the cat perched on his head.
Good grief.
I composed my expression and spoke.
"You said you'd found an expert appraiser for the porcelain?"
"Yes. Someone who specializes in fine antiques — completely trustworthy."
"This appraiser you're planning to entrust the porcelain to... it wouldn't happen to be the same person who appraised that Malgal longsword, would it?"
"The—the Malgal longsword?"
"You seem to have mistaken it for a Goguryeo artifact, but among the steppe peoples who fell under Goguryeo's influence — the Xianbei, the Khitan, the Malgal, the Turkic — my guess is that it's a general's sword of the Malgal."
Come on, I was a history major. I could at least remember the names of the northern peoples bordering Goguryeo.
Xianbei, Khitan, Malgal, Turkic. And wasn't the Malgal the one most heavily influenced by Goguryeo?
"Haha, Sunbae-nim. That longsword belonged to a Goguryeo general. The pattern carved in relief on the hilt—"
Ho-young went on and on, but I cut him off.
"No. It is definitely not a Korean sword."
The spirit bound to that longsword spoke ancient Tungusic, after all.
And once again — how do I even know that?
"That can't be right?"
Ho-young couldn't bring himself to believe me. I furrowed my brow.
"Either way, I don't trust whoever appraised that sword. Find someone else to appraise the porcelain."
"Well, if Sunbae-nim feels uncomfortable about it, there's not much I can say. I'll look for another appraiser."
"And I don't think it's a good idea to leave that thing out here on display, either."
The grandmother spirit in the white porcelain jar had been so kind she'd blessed me, saying everything would go my way. She'd been a bit full of herself, sure, but she'd carried no ill will whatsoever.
This cat spirit, on the other hand, was perched on Ho-young's head actively causing his headaches. That made it a spirit that did harm to people.
"Leave it here much longer, and Mr. Lee Ho-young's headaches will only get worse. It could even start damaging his health."
"Oh come on, Sunbae-nim. Now that I look at you, you really are superstiti—huh?"
I reached out and swirled my hand through the air above Ho-young's head.
The cat, startled, plopped straight down to the floor.
"You scared the living daylights out of me!"
The cat bristled at me with its fur standing on end, but it didn't attack. And then—
"My head... it doesn't hurt?"
His headache apparently gone entirely, Ho-young stared at me, blinking in bewilderment.
"I won't bother explaining the details. Just move that longsword into storage for the duration of our porcelain deal."
With an important transaction on the line, Ho-young studied me with a thoughtful look, then slowly nodded.
"I'll take your word for it, Sunbae-nim. I'll move the longsword to the vault."
"No! It's dark in there! Please, take me with you — take me where you live! I want to live out on open ground!"
The cat began circling around me, whining for me to take it along.
Shoo, go away. I made a rule for myself: no chatting with spirits that carry bad energy.
Though, honestly, I wasn't all that eager to chat with the good ones either.
Go, go! Namu Amitabha. No wait — Hallelujah, amen!
"Take me with you, take me with you, take me with you."
Meanwhile, Ho-young had fetched an iPad and turned it around so I could see the screen.
"Ah, and there are currently two parties interested in the porcelain. One is a wealthy Hong Kong collector—"
"Rejected."
"Pardon?"
"The new owner has to be a Seoulite. No exceptions."
The grandmother spirit in the jar had asked to be sent to Gyeongseong. When I told her Gyeongseong was now called Seoul, she'd said that would still do nicely.
"Someone living in a traditional hanok would be even better, but that won't be easy to arrange. So: a Seoul resident, with a spacious and comfortable home, who'll treasure the porcelain like a family shrine deity."
"In cases like this, most sellers go to whoever bids highest. You really are a patriot, Sunbae-nim."
Excuse me?
When I blinked at him in confusion, Ho-young explained.
"You're refusing to let the porcelain leave the country — that's why you'll only sell to someone in Seoul. You know, I used to be a patriot like you, haha. But somewhere along the way I turned into a businessman, so it slipped my mind, haha."
Well, if he wanted to give me that much credit, it'd be awkward to correct him.
"Sure. Let's go with that."
I rose from my seat. The cat tried to wind itself around my legs, and I gently pushed it off.
"I'll be going now."
"You won't even stay for one cup of tea? I'm hurt..."
Ho-young trailed after me like a duckling, seeing me out of the office and all the way to the elevator.
Next, I was off to meet Kim Chang-soo — the man who had dumped Grandma Park Mak-soon in Gyeongju like a piece of trash.
How should I punish that bastard?
"Take me too, take me too, take me too."
I turned back to look at Ho-young. The cat had already climbed back onto his head.
"Mr. Lee, I'd say your headache is starting up again right about now?"
"How could you possibly—actually, my sleep's been terrible lately too, now that you mention it. Could it really be that longsword? You seem to be... attuned to that sort of thing, Sunbae-nim. Please, tell me."
I looked at the cat, then spoke in my mind.
You want me to take you?
"Yeah! Just let me get some fresh air for a couple of days."
Because you can't get too far from the sword?
"The sword IS my home, pal."
A spirit that caused headaches and restless dreams — so yes, a malevolent one. And yet it didn't seem all that wicked, either.
The cat began to weep, tears rolling down its whiskers.
"I'd slipped out on my own for a little while, but it was all too much out there, and I thought I'd never find my way home again. That's why I'm trapped here. Please, take me with you."
Fine. Come along.
"Whoo, I'm so excited!"
At my words, the cat leaped down in a single bound.
Right on cue, the elevator chimed and the doors slid open.
"That longsword did have an evil aura about it, but it just vanished. You can leave the sword where it is for now."
"Ah! No wonder..."
Ho-young's headache was apparently gone. And he seemed to have caught a glimpse of what I could do.
He didn't know exactly what it was, but he'd clearly become convinced I was anything but ordinary. Ho-young bowed to me so deeply I could see the crown of his head.
"Understood, Sunbae-nim! I'll do exactly as you say."
"Keep up the good work."
A coffee shop in front of a high school in Gangseo-gu.
I took a sip of coffee as I gazed at the school where Kim Chang-soo, son of Grandma Park Mak-soon, was playing principal.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
I answered my buzzing phone with a smile.
"Hey, Se-hoon. Thanks to you, I'm standing right outside the school where Principal Kim Chang-soo works. I owe you one, man."
My high school classmate Hong Se-hoon had made a name for himself as a star math instructor before moving to a private school math teaching position a while back.
Teaching math at a college-prep academy paid well, apparently, but left zero room for a personal life. As a private high school teacher, he actually got vacations, so he was fairly content.
A few days ago, I'd gone through Se-hoon to track down the school where this principal Kim Chang-soo worked — and that was how I'd found out where the bastard was.
"Next time I go digging up deodeok roots, I'll send you a crate."
"Hahaha! Yunho, seriously — you lived the city life all this time, and then suddenly, this. Well hey, whatever life makes you happy is the best life. That's why I switched to a school job too."
"The population's only shrinking. Take good care of those kids."
"You bet. They're adorable, those kids of mine!"
Any man who called high schoolers adorable was, clearly, born to be a teacher.
While I chatted with Se-hoon, the cat spirit from the longsword was face-planting into the cake I'd bought it, licking away.
Since when do spirits have that kind of sweet tooth?
That's right, eat up. The fuller you are, the harder you'll work tormenting Kim Chang-soo.
Just then, I saw the school gates swing open on both sides, the guard bowing a polite greeting.
"That's Kim Chang-soo! Se-hoon, let's talk later!"
I dialed Kim Chang-soo immediately.
The call barely rang before it cut off. When I followed up with a text asking to meet, I discovered he'd blocked my number.
"Ha. So that's how you want to play it?"
I grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck and walked out of the coffee shop.
"Think you can keep that bastard from getting away? He moves fast."
"Oh, that's easy."
The cat suddenly darted into the road and leaped onto the car Kim Chang-soo was driving. As it clung to the windshield, baring razor-sharp fangs and hissing—
Screeech! Thud!
Kim Chang-soo yanked the wheel hard to the side and plowed straight into the school's fence wall.
"Nice!"
If this wasn't crime and punishment served fresh, what was?
I crossed the crosswalk and leaned down toward Kim Chang-soo, who was slumped over the steering wheel.
"Mr. Kim Chang-soo. Looks like you'll be heading to the afterlife before your mother does?"
"Wh... who are you?"
"Me? The Grim Reaper."
Yeah, right — this guy was no Grim Reaper.
From atop the crumpled hood, the cat tapped out a little rhythm with its tail, ready to slip through the shattered window at my command and torment the life out of Kim Chang-soo.