Changsin-dong Turned Out to Be a Good Deal
“Changsin-dong?”
“Yes. Of the places you can get to from Daehak-ro in thirty minutes, Changsin-dong is about as cost-effective as it gets.”
Changsin-dong, in Seoul’s Jongno District.
What people usually called a dal-dongne, a hillside neighborhood.
There was no subway station, so transportation was inconvenient, and the area was ringed by mountains, with the Seoul City Wall and Naksan Park both nearby.
In other words, it meant one hell of an uphill climb.
“Isn’t there anywhere flat, or at least somewhere with easier access?”
“For places like that, the monthly rent starts at two or three million won. Would that be okay?”
“...”
“Changsin-dong it is.”
“Yes, let’s take a look first.”
I rode over to Changsin-dong in the real estate agent’s car.
When I noticed a subway station, I asked about it casually, and she told me that it was Changsin Station in name only; in practice, it was about the same distance as going from Seoul National University Entrance Station to Seoul National University.
It wasn’t until we’d climbed for ages from the entrance to the neighborhood, up a road that started sloping steeply right from the beginning, that our destination finally came into view.
“This would be hard to walk to.”
“Usually, yes. But you said you have a car.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
It was a ten-year-old rust bucket, but it still ran just fine.
For commuting, I used public transit because the subway was more convenient and cheaper.
Still, back when I was dating, I’d made pretty good use of it.
“How many places have you seen so far?”
“Not many. This is only the second day, counting yesterday.”
“You’ve seen enough, then. Today you’ll understand why this place is really good.”
Screeech.
I parked in the narrow parking space and got out.
“The advantage here is that there’s parking. Changsin-dong usually doesn’t have any, so people end up parking on the street.”
“Ah, I see.”
A building with one basement floor and three floors above ground.
“It even has an elevator.”
That was welcome news.
It would make moving in side-job supplies and finished products a lot easier, too.
“For Changsin-dong, this is really an excellent listing.”
“It does look that way.”
Unlike the other old buildings, this one looked like it had at least been minimally remodeled.
Ding.
We took the elevator up to the third floor.
Honestly, I hadn’t expected much.
The whole hillside-neighborhood vibe had already put a damper on things.
But to my surprise, the moment the door opened and I stepped inside.
“...Oh?!”
The exclamation escaped before I could stop it.
“This is nice...”
The first thing I liked, without question, was the space.
Compared to the cramped rental I lived in, the interior opened up wide, and instead of feeling boxed in, I felt like I could finally breathe again.
In fact, before coming here I’d already visited seven real estate offices, and none of the workshop spaces had been bigger than thirty-three square meters.
But this place was a full seventy-nine.
“Seventy-nine square meters?”
“Yes. And since it’s on the top floor, you can use the roof freely as well.”
“Ooh...”
I could invite friends over for a barbecue, or set up a bench and drink beer while watching the stars and the moon.
“And the owner is overseas.”
“Huh?”
“So as long as you don’t go punching holes in the walls, they don’t really care much about interior renovations. Their attitude is basically that as long as the rent comes in on time, they leave the rest alone.”
“...This is perfect for a workshop.”
“Exactly. That’s why I recommended it. On top of that, a professional management company handles the building, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
The agent lowered her voice and added, “And since you don’t have to worry about noise here, it’s great. The soundproofing is solid, and the floor below is used as storage.”
In other words, it was ideal for a workshop.
“How much did you say this was?”
“A deposit of one hundred million won and a monthly rent of eight hundred thousand won.”
“Hmm. It really is perfect, but...”
The deposit was pretty steep.
Still, for that amount of rent, it wasn’t bad.
I could probably sign for this.
I was about to say we should just check the registry and stamp the contract, when—
“Should I try to knock the rent down a bit?”
The real estate agent’s eyes lit up as she added, “How about seven hundred thousand won a month? I think I can probably talk them into that much.”
“Then I’ll sign.”
“All right. Just a moment.”
***
Thud!
With the desk set in place, the moving was done.
“Whew-!”
I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand and looked around the twenty-four-pyeong workshop.
So this is my own workshop from today on?
Just looking at it made me feel content.
Of course, calling it a workshop was generous when it was still basically an empty shell and had almost no equipment.
All I had were a desk, a chair, a sofa, and a table.
I couldn’t bring anything from home, so I’d gotten everything through the secondhand marketplace.
Still, I managed to get useful things for cheaper than I expected.
Now that I had the basic living space set up, I could buy a sewing machine and the essential tools for handcrafting one by one and fill the place out.
That was part of the fun of making my own workshop, after all.
“Time to rest a little.”
Thunk.
I practically threw myself onto the sofa.
The soft cushion made me smile on its own.
“Nice. Very nice.”
When you spent every day in an eight-pyeong two-room place, even on weekends, the home you had could feel stifling more often than not.
But in a space this wide, it almost felt like I’d become rich.
Then, suddenly, a thought struck me.
“If the workshop feels this good, how great would it be to have my own house?”
But that was still far too distant an idea for me to really reach, so I quickly let it go.
The hopeful part is that now I can actually see it coming into view.
When I was only working at the company, even if I scrimped and saved and dutifully kept up with my savings plans, owning a home in Seoul had seemed effectively impossible.
But when I thought about how quickly money was accumulating from my side jobs, buying my own apartment no longer felt like a fantasy that was forever out of reach.
Right. I should work even harder from here on.
Effort doesn’t betray you.
As long as I didn’t blow it all on get-rich-quick nonsense, money would always pile up eventually.
And if I think about the rent, I really do need to keep hustling on the side.
The final monthly rent, including maintenance fees, had come to 720,000 won.
Once electricity was factored in, I’d need to earn more than 800,000 won a month just to have anything left over.
It’s not a small amount, so there is a bit of pressure.
Still, I’d heard that a moderate amount of tension could actually be helpful.
Let’s not make this more burdensome than it needs to be.
Above all else, what mattered was that my happiness came first.
So today, I’m resting.
I’d already dealt with used goods on the secondhand market and moved into the workshop today, so I was tired.
I headed toward the refrigerator in one corner of the workshop.
It was the kind of commercial fridge you saw in restaurants all the time.
I’d gotten this one through the secondhand marketplace, too. A restaurant had shut down and listed a fridge that had originally cost one million won for fifteen hundred thousand won after only one year of use, so I snatched it up immediately.
Clunk.
The moment I opened the door, I couldn’t help laughing.
“Heh-heh-heh.”
Because inside was a man’s dream laid out in full.
Domestic beer here.
Imported beer there.
Soju on the top shelf.
Cheap whiskey, tonic water, and even lemon juice for highballs below that.
And on both sides, zero-calorie soda was lined up neatly as well.
“Just looking at it makes me happy.”
Today, I decided on the beer of a successful man: dark beer.
I took out a can and shuffled over to the sofa.
Moonlight was spilling in through the wide window.
Chk.
Glug-glug-glug.
“Haaah...”
Incredible.
“This is romance!”
It wasn’t some grand career dream like president or astronaut, the kind of thing I’d imagined when I was a kid.
But maybe this was the best kind of happiness someone my age could ever realistically achieve.
“I should get a TV next time, too.”
But then, as soon as that thought crossed my mind, I changed my mind.
No, wait. That wall over there is completely white. If I got a projector and watched sports on a hundred-inch screen, that’d feel amazing.
At first, I’d only thought I’d do work in the workshop.
But once I had a place of my own, there was suddenly so much I wanted to do, and so much more I could actually do.
I should try everything one by one, from here on out.
Bzzzt.
Then a message arrived on my phone.
“A DM...”
A message through social media.
“Wait, how many lines is this?”
My eyes were about to fall out from reading it.
I’d gotten a few lines in, but I couldn’t possibly read the whole thing, so I just scrolled down roughly.
So the gist is that she wants me to make a cosplay outfit?
It sounded like she’d fallen for the figure, then been knocked out all over again by the outfit it wore.
Hold on. Yu So-ra?
Something about the name felt familiar, so I dug through my memory hard.
Isn’t she the cosplayer Assistant Manager Park was desperately looking for?
Just to be sure, I opened her feed, and sure enough, it was her.
But then, before I knew it—
As soon as she realized I’d seen the read receipt, Yu So-ra started firing off messages in a frenzy.
“...”
It was a little overwhelming.
Just as my hand was moving toward the back button, she sent another message.
“Ah.”
Damn it. She’d noticed I’d read it.
I had no choice but to wait and see what she said next.
“So she really is the cosplayer Assistant Manager Park was talking about...”
She was the same woman who’d even left a comment on my blog about the figure.
“All right, calm down.”
“Huh!! Thank you!!”
“She doesn’t look calm at all...”
“You want me to make the outfit?”
“Yeeeeeees!”
“If you’re okay with it, could we maybe have a meeting?”
“I’ll come to you.”
“And if that’s awkward, a phone call is fine too.”
“I’ve never actually made clothes before, though...”
“Whoa, that’s huge.”
“You’re full-on talented.”
“If you make it even half as well as the figure, I’ll wear it for the rest of my life.”
“...”
If I take this request, it’s going to put a lot of pressure on me.
But before I could refuse, I thought of Assistant Manager Park, who’d been suffering at the office for days.
If we couldn’t get Yu So-ra on board, this ad campaign would take a serious hit.
If I use the outfit as an excuse and lock in her appearance at our festival too, that’d be a win-win.
No matter how much support work this was, it was still part of my job.
If I could, I’d rather settle it properly.
“All right. Then shall we meet tomorrow?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
“Where should we meet?”
“I’ll match your time, too!”
“Then how about around three? We can meet for coffee. As for the place...”
While I was typing, my eyes suddenly widened.
Wait. There’s no reason for us to meet outside anymore, is there?
“Would you come to my workshop?”
“Whoa, insane. I love that.”
“I can’t wait any longer, should I come now?”
“No. Wait.”
“Ah, okay.”
***