A Good Kind of Foreign

His earnings from the past fifteen days popped up on the screen. Park Jihun refreshed the admin page once more. But the numbers remained exactly the same.

"...Crazy," Usik muttered, clicking his tongue after hearing Jihun's payout. "Dude, seriously? Fifteen million won? Ha, this is unreal. Seriously."

Jihun didn't answer. No, he didn't even have the mind to. His eyes were glued to the numbers. Fifteen million won. It hadn't felt real when they were just Water Droplets, but seeing the actual figures on the admin page finally brought it home. He wondered if this was truly his money. Jihun rubbed his face with both hands, a hot breath escaping between his palms.

Usik spoke again. "Dude, you seriously hit the jackpot. You made fifteen million won in just two weeks. You can finally breathe a little easier now, right?"

Jihun gathered his thoughts. Looking at the fifteen million won, things he wanted to do began popping into his head one by one. He could escape this cramped rooftop room and move into a better place, replace his ancient computer, or buy some decent new clothes. And before any of that, the most important thing of all came to mind.

My mother.

He pictured her standing all day at the restaurant where she worked. Even when he asked if she was exhausted, she would always say she was fine. Even when her joints ached to the bone, she would refuse to go to the hospital, insisting on just applying pain relief patches. His mother's face filled his mind.

Jihun opened his mouth. "...I need to take care of my mom first."

"What?"

"A health screening."

Usik let out a soft gasp. "Ah."

"She's had the free basic checkups, but she's never had a proper, comprehensive medical exam. This time, even if it costs a lot, I'm going to make sure she gets a thorough screening."

Usik, who had been chatting excitedly just a moment ago, immediately nodded. "Yeah, you're absolutely right."

Jihun checked the estimated payout once more.

Now, it finally felt like he could actually do something.

"I'm going to take tomorrow off and go see my mom."

"Good idea. Go buy her something delicious."

"You're coming too."

"Me? Why?"

"You're the one who told me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to start streaming."

"Ah."

"My treat."

Usik grinned instantly. "Well, in that case, I'm definitely coming."

Jihun laughed along. The numbers on the monitor still felt foreign, but it was a wonderful kind of foreign. He had been nothing but a source of worry as a perpetual job seeker, but now, for the first time, he was able to give his parent a proper gift.

It happened to be his mother's day off. Jihun headed home with Usik around lunchtime. As soon as his mother opened the door, her face lit up at the sight of Jihun and Usik.

"My son! Oh, and Usik is here too?"

"Hello, Mother! Have you been well?"

"Of course. You two haven't had lunch yet, right? Come on in. I'll whip something up quickly."

Jihun suggested eating out, but his mother insisted on feeding them a home-cooked meal, saying it had been a while since Usik last visited. Eating out was postponed for another day.

Stepping inside, Jihun's eyes fell upon the worn linoleum floor, the outdated furniture, and the dishcloths hanging to dry on the small veranda. It wasn't a spacious home, but the traces of his mother's diligent touch everywhere brought a strange sense of peace.

The three of them sat together and shared lunch. As the meal was winding down, Jihun pulled out an envelope he had prepared beforehand and placed it on the table.

"Mom, take this."

His mother's gaze drifted to the envelope. "What's this? Are you giving me allowance? Where would you get any money? I'm fine, keep it for yourself."

"Just look inside first."

"Oh, I told you I'm fine, but let's see how much..."

Peeking playfully inside the envelope, his mother's eyes suddenly went wide.

"...Jihun? This amount?"

"I put five million won in there."

"...What?" Her face was a mask of sheer disbelief. "Where on earth did you get this money?"

Seeing his mother's expression turn dead serious, Jihun took a brief breath before replying.

"I made it from streaming."

"Streaming? What kind of streaming?"

"I host a shamanic reading stream. It's an online personal broadcast."

At that moment, his mother's eyes trembled. Her fingertips tightened around the envelope.

The words she had long forgotten suddenly rushed back to her. She stared at Jihun for a long time before letting out a weak, weary laugh.

"...So it ends up like this after all."

Park Jihun remained silent.

"I suppose it wasn't a fate that could be avoided just because I tried to ignore it. So... have you become a shaman?"

"No."

"...Huh?"

"I've never received a Shinnaerim ritual, and no spirits are talking to me. My shamanic powers only activate when I'm streaming."

Silence fell over the room.

"What does that even mean...?"

Jihun didn't miss the opportunity and pressed on.

"I don't know either. Anyway, I want to give you a reading, Mom."

"A reading for me?"

"Yes. It'll only take a moment." Jihun added calmly, "I want to see what your future looks like, if your health is okay, and if there's any misfortune ahead. Because I worry about you."

His mother was silent for a long time. Then, she slowly nodded.

Jihun pulled out his phone. His mother squinted at it.

"Is it really... that simple? No exorcisms or rituals, just turning on a broadcast?"

"Yes, I told you. I'm not that kind of shaman."

With practiced movements, Jihun opened the Ocean streaming app. He set the broadcast to private and entered a password. Usik, who was sitting beside them, quickly stepped in to help her join the stream.

"Mother, let me do that for you. It'll only take a second."

And so, the private stream began. The moment his mother's nickname appeared in the viewer list, the familiar sensation crept up the back of his neck. Another layer of vision overlapped his sight.

The first thing he saw was not an apron.

It was a window bathed in soft sunlight. A worn but tidy desk. A hand slowly moving across an open notebook. It looked like a university lecture hall. His mother was sitting among a crowd of young students. She was diligently taking notes. Her shoulders weren't hunched, and her face didn't look exhausted. Her expression was far more relaxed than it was now, and she was smiling brighter than he had ever seen.

Jihun's gaze trembled ever so slightly.

"Mom... did you want to study?"

His mother's face instantly flushed red. She waved her hands dismissively.

"No, of course not." The denial came quickly, but her voice shook slightly. "What would someone my age be studying for?"

Jihun didn't say anything. Instead, he just quietly stared at her. The mother he had just seen in his vision wasn't rushing around clearing tables. She wore neat, tidy clothes instead of an apron, and instead of writing down orders, she was writing in a notebook. Most of all, she was smiling so brightly.

That image lingered in his mind. His mother's abandoned dream. Even if it was late, he wanted to make it possible for her to do what she wanted again.

Jihun tapped the button to end the stream.

"Your health is mostly fine. But you still need to get that checkup. I'll set up the appointment."

His mother hesitated. "Oh, you don't have to go through all that trouble..."

"Don't postpone it this time."

She was silent for a moment before letting out a soft chuckle. "Alright."

Fifteen million won was certainly a large sum of money. But Jihun had no intention of stopping at just getting his mother a health screening. He wanted to move her to a much better neighborhood than where they lived now, and if she wanted, he wanted to support her so she could study again. For that, this amount was still not enough. But he knew the direction he had to go. He just had to climb higher.

It was Saturday evening. A massive banner was plastered across the top of the Ocean homepage.

Jihun smirked as he stared at his monitor. "They really went all out."

He had heard the general details from Usik, but he hadn't expected it to be this grand. Ocean had put up a dedicated banner, offered discount events on purchases, and even thrown in a Water Droplet giveaway event to blow up the scale. But Jihun simply clicked the start broadcast button without much of a reaction.

The moment his stream went live, the viewer count began to skyrocket. A few thousand. Ten thousand. Twenty thousand. The chat window was moving too fast to read from the very beginning. Rather than scrolling, the messages surged forward like a tsunami.

Jihun checked the number in the top right corner.

But the number showed no signs of slowing down.

Jihun pulled up the split-screen feed. The four streamers receiving readings today were gathered at the Ocean headquarters studio. Only Jihun was streaming from his usual spot at home.

Jihun's eyes swept across the screen. Doyun. Kroco. Chaerin. And Akasha. Faces that usually streamed on their own channels were now gathered on a single screen. The chat exploded even more violently.

Jihun spoke calmly. "I'll start ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with Chaerin."

Chaerin chuckled softly and asked, "I'm first?"

Her tone was playful, and her expression was still relaxed. She looked like someone well-accustomed to being in the spotlight. There was barely any sign of nervousness in front of the camera. With a lingering smile, Chaerin said, "There won't be much to see for me. But is it true you can guess everything even if I don't say a word?"

A chilly sensation was already creeping up the back of Jihun's neck. After a brief moment of dizziness, a vision flashed before his eyes. Then, Jihun bluntly spat out:

"You still haven't let him go."

Chaerin's smile vanished.

"You call him every time you drink, don't you?"

Chaerin's face stiffened. "What are you talking about?"

Jihun didn't even change his expression. "If he doesn't pick up, you send a long text, delete it, and send another. When you get blocked, you call him from a different number."

Chaerin's eyes wavered. "I-I've never done that."

Jihun asked flatly, "Really?"

Chaerin couldn't answer. Her lips froze. Jihun drove the spike in deeper.

"You check his profile every single day. To see if anything changed on his Instagram, if he followed someone new, or if he posted a story."

Chaerin's face instantly turned pale. "..."

Jihun added indifferently, "But he knows that too."

Chaerin's pupils shook violently.

"That you still haven't let him go."

"..."

"That's why he occasionally picks up."

Chaerin's lips trembled. "Stop..."

Jihun didn't stop. "He's going to bring up money again."

Every last drop of color drained from Chaerin's face. "...What?"

"He'll claim an emergency came up and ask you to help him out just this once."

"..."

"He'll probably say it's for medical bills."

Chaerin froze completely, her eyes shaking frantically. "T-that's..."

Jihun cut her off coldly. "You already know deep down. That it's a lie."

"..."

"No one in his family is sick right now."

Chaerin's lips quivered.

"And you're planning to give it to him again, aren't you? Because you don't care if it's real or not. Whatever the reason, you just want him to meet you."

At that moment, the chat exploded.

Chaerin's lips parted. Her face, which had been frozen in silence, suddenly crumpled. "No, that's, I mean..."

Jihun cut her off coldly. "Don't give it to him."

"..."

"He's not looking at you. He's only looking at your money."

Chaerin couldn't say a word.

Jihun added one final blow. "It's already over, but you're the only one who can't let it end."

At that moment, Chaerin's eyes welled with tears. Her lips parted, but in the end, no sound came out.

The studio instantly fell silent. The lively, laughing atmosphere from just moments ago had chilled as if it were all a lie.

Chaerin sat with a stiff face, biting her lip, while Kroco narrowed his eyes with interest. Doyun sat perfectly still, his gaze cast downward.

In that brief lull, Akasha checked her phone screen.

Akasha turned off her phone screen with a complicated expression.

Jihun ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spoke with an indifferent face. "Next."

Chat messages rolled up.

Jihun's gaze shifted to Doyun. "Doyun. As for you..."

"W-wait a moment."

Doyun's shoulders flinched visibly. His lips parted and closed several times. After a long pause, he barely managed to squeeze out the words.

"...I won't be taking a reading."