The Land — Part 5
"An elementary schooler? Haven't seen one."
"We haven't seen any kids around the village, either."
Bang Seonghyun and Bang Seongeun exchanged a glance, then shook their heads at me. A total dead end.
"I... I see."
Then the child I'd seen was a ghost?
Damn it!
Where had she attached herself to get in? A person? Or an object?
She definitely wasn't a spirit that had always lived in the village.
If she were one of the spirits drifting through Ugok 1-ri, there was no way I wouldn't know about her.
The spirits that seep out of old objects, trees, stones—essences that congeal slowly over long stretches of time. The ones that slip free of human or animal flesh. None of them ever make their presence known.
They're like thin wisps of smoke, or a gust of wind passing by in an instant. Sometimes they slip up and betray themselves with a scent, but mostly they try not to catch my eye at all.
The student soldier who finally showed himself to me only gained a clear face, eyes, and mouth after his remains were found.
Maybe, just like the former-former village chief said—if the underworld is at my back, then spirits are careful around me because the moment I notice them, off to the afterlife they go.
So what's with that kid?
She had tried to get my attention. Thinking back on it now, even the way she'd pulled my gaze while I was driving, the way she'd been visible even in the rearview mirror—that had all been her will.
A spirit like that always causes trouble. At least, that was my experience.
There has to be a reason she revealed herself.
I pressed a hand to my forehead, then smoothed my expression and spoke to the kids.
"If you happen to see a girl about elementary school age—pink t-shirt, navy pants—let me know, okay?"
There was no way these two could actually see a ghost, but she might show up in their nightmares. And if she tried to pull some kind of stunt, it seemed better to warn them in advance.
"Pink t-shirt, navy pants, an elementary school girl. Got it. We'll remember."
Bang Seonghyun, a second-year high schooler this year, pointed at my house.
"We just come tell you over there, right?"
"I'll give you my number. And you're welcome to drop by anytime."
"Really?"
"Really!"
I'd heard that the house these kids would be living in had sat empty ever since the old woman who lived there alone passed away.
The village chief said he'd contacted her children and gotten permission for them to live there rent-free.
It had gotten a full-scale renovation ten years ago—a flush toilet, even a kitchen sink—but it still seemed like a tight squeeze for a family of four.
Especially with a teenage boy who can't share a room with his middle-school sister, and parents who can't exactly sleep separately either.
With only two bedrooms, someone was going to have to sleep in the kitchen. And something told me it would be Bang Seonghyun, the teenage boy.
The kid seemed genuinely sweet.
He was built solidly enough to pass for a judo athlete, but there wasn't a trace of aggression in his eyes.
He's like a golden retriever.
And that was exactly what kept nagging at me.
A high school boy had just moved to this remote mountain village out of nowhere, and he was grinning away.
No wariness of strangers, none of that rebellious streak kids his age were supposed to have.
Had he grown up overnight, skipping adolescence entirely, worn down from watching his parents struggle?
He might be smiling on the outside while feeling something completely different.
Maybe he was just swallowing down a simmering resentment. Maybe he wished he had friends in the village, a PC bang to go to.
There wasn't even a computer in the house, and the phone in his hand was an outdated model. I figured it would freeze up completely if he tried to download a single mobile game.
For a high schooler, that should have been maddening beyond belief.
And yet there he was, beaming. It made me think well of him. The kid seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, too.
"I've got a computer at my place. If you have homework, come do it there."
Call it sympathy or kindness, I extended my hand toward Bang Seonghyun.
It would make me feel better, that's why.
Bang Seonghyun was so overjoyed at the offer that he clasped his hands together and bounced on the spot.
"Can I really come? Really?"
"Yeah."
"R-really...? I'll come? I'll come a lot!"
"That's the idea."
I laughed and gave Bang Seonghyun's shoulder a light pat.
Hang in there, kid.
I'd been through that stage myself. Should I go to college? Where? What should I choose? What kind of person was I going to become?
It had all felt vast and confusing. Bang Seonghyun was probably wrestling with the same questions right now.
"You can come late at night, too. I stay up late anyway."
"Yes, sir!"
I chuckled, then gave a small bow to Bang Seonghyun's father, Bang Jeongsoo.
"We'll be heading out. Oh—and I keep emergency medicine on hand, so if the kids get an upset stomach or hurt themselves, just give me a call."
After exchanging contact information with Bang Jeongsoo as well, I stepped out the gate. As I walked back to my car, Bang Seonghyun and Bang Seongeun suddenly came running out and gave me a deep bow.
"Thank you for the cake and the bread."
"We'll eat it well!"
Apparently they'd only just heard from their parents that I'd been the one to give them the cake and bread.
"Sure."
I pulled two fifty-thousand-won notes from my pocket, handed one to each of them, and whispered.
"This is a secret."
"Ah!"
"Oh, but—"
"Shh!"
I raised a finger to my lips, then lowered it with a grin.
"Think of it as a welcome to our village. See you around."
Should I slip them some pocket money every time we met? Watching the kids hop up and down with delight put me in a good mood too.
They say you can't even find a dog when you need it for medicine.
No matter how hard I looked, No. 1 was nowhere to be found. I'd been planning to put him on the case—there was a new spirit that had drifted into the village, after all.
"Where on earth did you go?"
Come to think of it, I hadn't laid eyes on No. 1 in two days now.
Could he have gotten caught in some kind of trap?
It worried me, since he'd told me he'd dissipate if we were apart more than three days.
"No. 1! Hey, cat!"
I called his name as I combed the area around the house, then started trudging toward Mak-sun Halmeoni's place.
Mak-sun Halmeoni's eyesight was failing, and she'd mistaken No. 1 for a pretty cat, often setting out tasty treats for him. I figured that might be where he was holed up, and was shuffling along when—
"Young Yoonho."
Grandpa Hosik called out to me, walking along the ridge of the field that connected to his house.
"Where are you off to at this hour?"
"The Ugok 2-ri chief wants to see me. Says someone's looking to buy my land. Hahaha."
Grandpa Hosik was beaming—at long last, he could sell the land.
"I'm sorry—someone wants to buy your land?"
I had intended to buy Grandpa Hosik's land through the village chief. So why was the Ugok 2-ri chief butting in?
"Apparently he runs a restaurant over in Ugok 2-ri. Business is booming, and he says he's going to build a warehouse for ingredients."
So a storage warehouse for food supplies was about to sprout up on the very land I'd had my eye on. He'd claim he was building a barn for farm machinery, then quietly put it to some other use.
That I couldn't allow.
If trucks loaded with ingredients kept rumbling in and out, it wouldn't just shatter my peace of mind—it would hurt my business too. Grandpa Hosik's land sat in a spot I absolutely had to get my hands on. I'd been planning to plant soybeans there, together with Mak-sun Halmeoni's plot.
I swallowed dryly and asked.
"Grandpa, how much do you want for it? I mean, after paying off your credit union loan—how much cash do you want landing in your account?"
"Truth is, the amount I want is this."
Grandpa Hosik held up three fingers.
"Thirty million won?"
"That's right. Pay off the credit union debt, and if exactly that much ends up in my hands, I'll sell on the spot."
It was a fair price, honestly.
Grandpa Hosik smiled gently and went on.
"My eldest daughter and eldest son passed away, so I've got three children left. If I split thirty million three ways—ten million each—it'd help them get by."
"So that's why you need the thirty million?"
"That's it. Haha."
I steadied my breath and asked.
"And what about you, Grandpa? If you sell the land and give it all away to your children, how will you live?"
"Why, I've still got a sturdy body, don't I?"
A body all bone, the muscle long since melted away. He could still scrape by selling wild greens, mushrooms, and marsh snails at the market for now, but there was no telling whether next year would be the same story.
"Then here's what we'll do."
"Hmm? Do what?"
"Sell the land for thirty-five million, and keep five million of it for yourself."
"Will the buyer go for that? They'll want to shave off that pesky five million, you mark me."
"I don't think they will. Because I'm planning to buy your land for thirty-five million."
I had done my homework on land prices in our village. That figure was more than reasonable.
"You— you're the one buying the land?"
Grandpa Hosik stared at me, eyes wide with surprise, then went on.
"If that's the case, then all the more reason I can't take your five million. You already gave me wild ginseng—how could I ask you for more money on top of that?"
"That's one thing, and this is another."
This was land he had tended his whole life. To Grandpa Hosik, it must have been a friend—and everything he had.
"Just go hear what they have to say first. That side might offer as much as forty million."
I urged him not to rush into a decision, and to at least meet the buyer the Ugok 2-ri chief was introducing first.
"And if they offer more, I'll match it—and top it."
"What kind of warehouse builder is going to pay extra, and how much?"
Grandpa Hosik shook his head.
"You're buying this land to farm it, aren't you?"
"Yes. I'm going to plant soybeans."
"Soybeans! Now that's good. If you buy the land and start farming next year, I'll help however I can."
Just then, Grandpa Hosik's ancient cell phone rang.
"That'll be the Ugok 2-ri chief. Telling me to hurry up and get over there, I expect."
"Ask him how much they're offering. What price they're putting on the land."
"Will do."
Right there, Grandpa Hosik answered the call.
"Hello? Yes. The land? Oh, it's already sold."
Click!
Grandpa Hosik hung up abruptly, then looked at me and smacked his forehead. Oops!
"Blast, I forgot to ask how much they were offering."
The phone rang again. The Ugok 2-ri chief, apparently flabbergasted, was calling right back. Grandpa Hosik pressed the talk button, and the chief's voice came pouring out of the speaker.
"What do you mean, it's sold? Who's buying the land? Is the Ugok 1-ri chief trying to snatch it away from you?"
"Well, truth be told, the seal hasn't actually been stamped yet."
"Ha! Unbelievable. Playing innocent all this time, and now you're stringing me along? You think that scrappy little slope of a plot is going to sell like that? Old man, when you pass on, your kids will get nickled and dimed to death with inheritance taxes and whatnot, and all that'll be left is pocket change."
The Ugok 2-ri chief was clearly trying to scare the old man into selling fast.
"So how much did the marsh snail soup restaurant owner say he'd pay?"
"Thirty million—covers your credit union debt and everything."
"There's someone offering thirty-five million, so I'm afraid a deal with you won't work out."
"What kind of lunatic pays that price for land in a backwoods hollow like that? Don't lie to me and get over here right now. Pass up this chance and—"
Click!
Grandpa Hosik hung up again.
"He just called you a lunatic, so I didn't much feel like listening to any more. Did I hang up too quickly again?"
"Not at all, sir. You hung up at exactly the right moment."
I grinned and went on.
"Well, since you've already been called a lunatic once, let's settle on thirty-five million. Give your children ten million each and keep the five million for yourself."
"Thank you, young Yoonho. I'll make sure you don't feel like you got five million worth of shortchanged labor, either. I'll build you a chicken coop and help with the farming, you have my word."
"A chicken coop? You mean you'll give me some of the chickens you raise at your place?"
"That's right. Out in the country, you've got to keep chickens. They eat the bugs and lay fertilized eggs, you see."
Grandpa Hosik was famous for raising chickens without a trace of chicken-dung smell. I remembered Han Su-ja pouting because he refused to teach his secret technique to just anyone.
So does that make me the designated successor to Grandpa Hosik's poultry-farming secrets, after No. 1?
Meanwhile, as for the evil spirit No. 1—he didn't come home that night either, wherever he'd wandered off to.
The next day, I was finishing up my banking at the credit union to purchase Grandpa Hosik's land when—beep!—a horn blared.
A white Mercedes S-Class pulled up and stopped right in front of me.
"Haha! Sunbae-nim! I was just on my way to buy some Hanwoo beef at the credit union and come see you—what are the odds of running into you here?"
Lee Hoyoung flashed a bright smile, pretending it was a happy accident.
So that was why he'd replied to my text yesterday with a seagull emoji. Apparently, it meant he was coming to find me.