Ancestral House (2)

About 20 minutes later, the taxi—no, the neighbor guy's car—pulled up in front of the office. A trip that would've normally taken at least 40 minutes, cut in half like this. People really do need their own wheels. Not that it was my car or anything.

"We've arrived."

The neighbor guy said it politely, just like when I got in, reaching back to open the rear door for me. I startled at the sight and hopped out before he could.

"It's fine. You can head out now."

It was kinda funny picturing someone opening the door of a cheap compact car like it was a luxury sedan, but the real issue was the location. Right in front of the office. No need to draw eyes where it could only cause trouble. I'd seen coworkers get reamed by the team leader for buying a decent car relative to their rank: 'Hey, riding in something nicer than me? Deputies making bank these days? Should've stayed one myself.'

Fuck that. Can't have that shit happen to me.

Since I'd decided to keep showing up to this job, I had to avoid pulling attention. For the sake of MC OP's secrecy. And so I wouldn't get my ass chewed out.

I pulled out my phone to check the time. We'd gotten here faster than expected, so there was still some buffer before clock-in. I could've just headed straight inside, but I decided to hang back a bit and watch the guy who'd just driven me here.

The neighbor dude, yanked out of his morning commute by the 24/7 ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Taxi effect to become my personal chauffeur. What would he do once the app's hypnosis wore off? I wasn't dying to see a guy freak out or anything. Just seemed smart to scout reactions from app victims ahead of time, since I'd be using it more.

I watched him intently as he stood blankly in front of his car, staring into space. After a moment, he blinked a few times and snapped to.

Confused expression, glancing around. Like he had no clue why he was here.

Ring ring ring—

His phone buzzed. He checked it, face falling, and picked up.

"Hey, Deputy Kim! You coming to work or what? Called your house—they said you left 20 minutes ago!"

"S-sorry... I don't know where I am..."

"What the hell? Get your head straight?!"

He scanned around with the most wronged look. I called out, "This is Nonhyeon Station."

He thanked me frantically and scurried back to his car. I headed into the office, watching him go.

...Guy's probably in for some grief like my coworker. Kinda feel bad. A tiny bit.

Monday through Friday. While dragging myself to work, one thought gnawed at me nonstop.

Should I quit this job? Or not?

I knew how ridiculous it sounded coming from the guy who'd blabbed about "maintaining daily balance and normalcy" just last Monday. But still.

"Man, the more I get used to this place, the more I wanna burn it down."

Turns out, all I wanted was to ditch it and live it up with MC OP. Sure, steady paychecks were nice for survival, but money? I could make that with the app too. Kim Mi-young had shown me her suggestion list and spelled it out.

"Points for subscription suggestions? From what I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠know, it's based on how tough the secrecy level is. And whether there's financial gain or not."

Messing with an active TV announcer? That alone pulled 3 points monthly. The cafe with its built-in brainwashing gear was a free-for-all at 1 point monthly. Coaching at the women-only Pilates spot cost 3 points.

The announcer let you trigger a rotor mid-broadcast—high secrecy difficulty. The cafe and Pilates were similar inside, but her Women's Body instructor cert guaranteed free coaching and a salary.

Should I just coach at some local Pilates joint? MC OP had a few subscription suggestions like that.

"Nah, that's not it."

I barely reined in the temptation. Tempting as hell—pay points, enjoy the whole shop, get paid on top. But points came from hypnotizing folks and supplying them to MC OP. Ignoring how I had 500 already, no new intake meant no extras. Had to plan under that assumption.

"Deputy Lee. Not prepping to leave? What're you doing?"

Friday evening past quitting time. Kim Team Leader approached me, still mulling at my desk.

"Waiting for drinks with me? Ugh, guess we gotta hit that gopchang spot again."

He sidled up, acting buddy-buddy. I gave him an awkward smile.

"Sorry. Got somewhere to be tonight."

"Somewhere? Didn't you say no girlfriend? Where to on a Friday?"

"Family thing..."

"Pfft, that'll keep. Just gopchang and you're out. Not skipping, just late. Right? C'mon."

True to form, oblivious booze-pushing from Kim Team Leader. But not this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time.

"Sorry, family thing. Can't."

"Why? What, you got an ancestral house or something?"

"Yeah. Our family's an ancestral house."

Not wrong. At least for the people waiting where I was headed.

"This the place?"

MC OP's Ancestral House address led to a quiet upscale residential area in Seoul. Modern ancestral houses in spots like this? I'd pictured some rural hanok village.

Glanced around. True to luxury, every mansion had sealed entrances. No peeking inside from any angle.

I stood at the listed address, pondering. Ring the intercom? Wrong house would be awkward as hell.

Vrrr—

A heavy grinding sound ahead. The massive gate—electronic opener only—swung open.

No voices from inside. Night shadows hid everything but a few garden trees.

"Guess I can go in...?"

Permanent rental from MC OP meant they knew me, opened for me. No issue. But the pitch-black yard made me hesitate.

Thud thud—

Someone emerged from the mansion.

"You've arrived, young master?"

A woman in neat indigo hanbok. Traditional style, not modern. Paper lantern in hand. Like she'd stepped from Joseon.

She bowed to me.

"The madam awaits. Please, come in."

Low voice calling me, then slow steps inside. No clue her suggestion state, but best to follow. I trailed her.

Lanterns flickered on to match my pace. Only near the mansion did I make out the place.

"What the—?"

Ornate eaves, blue-green tiles. Real wood, antique vibe.

"A real hanok?"

Smack in Seoul's elite hood: a serene traditional house.

"To the inner quarters, please."

The indigo-hanbok woman led carefully. Her deference screamed Joseon-era slave attending a noble son. No real slaves in modern ancestral houses, but...

"Place your foot here, young master. This servant shall remove your shoes."

On her knees, taking my shoes. Clear: she saw me as way above her.

Shoes off, into the hanok. She led straight here, ignoring others—must be the inner quarters.

As I eyed the softly lit interior, she said,

"To the room, please. The madam awaits."

Madam in the inner quarters. Talked like a sageuk drama escapee.

Best check MC OP settings before meeting this "madam."

Paused at the door, phone out. She watched puzzled but bowed, no protest.

"What are you doing? You're here—come in."

Voice from ahead. Mature woman's stern tone. Scolding my shadow through the paper screen.

"Spying from the threshold? Is that how I raised you?"

Wasn't spying...

No point arguing. Settings unchecked, but no issue—they're set for me. No harm from them.

Slide—

Opened the screen door carefully, stepped in.

Fancy folding screen. And a poised woman in elegant hanbok.

"Huh!?"

Gasped on sight.

"What noise before your mother."

Displeased gaze, words fitting "madam" perfectly. Dignified reprimand.

"Wha—!?"

Mouth wouldn't shut despite her scolding.

"Tch, what nonsense before your mother. Kneel and pay respects at once."

Like a Joseon mom lecturing. But I just gawked, eyes wide.

Couldn't help it. I knew her.

"Y-you're that actress, right? Hong Min-jeong?"

"Tch, calling your mother's name lightly. Out—collect yourself and return. A noble son skipping greetings? Tsk tsk..."

Sitting like a Joseon madam: famous actress even I recognized.

"What the hell. Ancestral house...?"

Out of the room, I rushed to check MC OP settings.

Perception alteration to full Joseon era? Wild. No more details.

No time to dwell—switched to browser.

"Definitely Hong Min-jeong."

Searched the "madam"—actress. News: married rich a few years back, semi-retired from acting. Residence vague, but...

"Cheongdam-dong, at least."

Checked her, then the indigo woman eyeing me shocked.

Worried face: "You mustn't anger the madam, young master. Hurry back and apologize. Change out of those strange clothes too..."

App said she's altered too—sees me as noble son, herself slave?

Hid phone—might break settings?

"Miss, this Cheongdam-dong, right?"

Odd look, then: "Young master, this is Cheongdutgol. Cheongdam... what place is that? And you mustn't honor this servant. Even if you allow it, others will punish me..."

"Ah, OK. Got it."

Quick phone check: Cheongdam's old name was Cheongdutgol. MC OP no joke—whole house in Joseon mode? Star actress as madam, staff as slaves...?

"Young master. Perhaps overstepping, but shouldn't you greet the madam properly? I'll fetch new clothes—change and head to the inner room at once."

She vanished. I pondered her and the waiting madam.

Joseon setup insane, but...

"Be careful? Like how?"

Me, more rogue than noble—how to act the part? Actress's son? In Confucian son-worship, hands tied for what I want.

Vrrr—

Phone buzzed mid-thought. MC OP, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as if reading me.

"Young master. Brought new clothes. Don these instead of that monstrosity, and apologize to the madam."

"...Nah, I'm good."

Grinned at the sageuk hanbok she offered.

Namjon Yeobi.