Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: Evil Ghost Baek Dong-su (1)
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Na-rae had been incredibly busy lately, sorting through all the incidents that had hit the reporting team on her own.
On top of that, after getting a call from Il-han last night and rushing from the office to the hospital, she'd gone straight back to work from there, leaving her whole body aching.
"Why does that guy have to be such a mess? Anyway, he's such a loner that I'm the only one he can contact—he can't just ignore him."
Byung-su and Dong-jin hadn't shown up at the office at all since the Dae-seong Hospital disaster, no one knew what they were up to.
Plus, she'd gotten word from Inspector Han that the original Japanese owner of the Chungnam mountain lodge had passed away ages ago, and his only relative was a great-nephew in Seoul, which left her feeling deflated.
"Should I just shelve the Chungnam mountain lodge story like this? Or at least meet the great-nephew? The team leader and senior are tangled up with some zombie horde out of nowhere and won't even come to the office—who knows where they are..."
Given the vibe at the Chungnam mountain lodge and the state of the upper village, it seemed like there'd be some juicy stories, but all talk and no real scoops.
"You could at least tell me something! Argh!"
Kim Cho-seon's nagging about pushing real stories had soured even her dreams.
And now rumors of pay cuts were circulating, weighing heavy on her mind.
She couldn't go out on assignments to appease Cho-seon, nor could she turn articles into fiction.
"Ugh, forget real stories. If nothing else, I'll just make some up. We're trash reporters anyway. Overtime every night alone is wrecking my condition."
The walk home to her officetel near the office felt empty and exhausting.
Her place was a duplex officetel near Anguk Station, a bit too far to walk to work comfortably.
She hadn't brought her car these past few days since she'd been stuck organizing articles indoors, so she dragged her tired body along on foot.
"I should start driving. Stupid me for leaving it. Even this short walk is wearing me out more."
By the time she reached Anguk Station, the sun had set and night was deepening.
Whenever crossing from Anguk Station toward her officetel, she always ignored the signalized crosswalk and jaywalked.
Today, though, her body was too beat to dash across the road.
She trudged along with her head down, back hunched, shoulders slumped, all the way to the crosswalk.
"Excuse me, have you seen a pair of red shoes by any chance?"
The voice was refreshingly clear, like it cleared her foggy head.
Na-rae looked up at the owner of the voice.
It was a woman in a white dress and sky-blue cardigan, with long wavy hair cascading to her waist and kind, gentle eyes. She looked about Na-rae's age.
"Red shoes? Hmm, I don't think so."
"Oh, thank you anyway. My eyesight's so bad, I can't find them. Thanks."
Her voice held disappointment, but she flashed a bright smile and bowed politely.
The woman approached another passerby nearby and asked the same.
'Not looking for a person or a place, but shoes? Who does that? Like asking around's gonna help.'
Thinking the woman a bit odd, Na-rae walked past her.
Then Na-rae's eyes widened, and her steps halted.
"Huh?"
The woman's left hand clutched a shoe, and her other held a white cane.
It was a modest yet elegant low-heeled shoe, fitting its owner.
The woman was barefoot, turning toward the sound of footsteps and asking passersby.
'Not bad eyesight—she's blind.'
Na-rae's heart ached a little; she couldn't just walk by.
"Hey, let me help you look. Better than alone. How'd you lose it?"
The woman beamed again, her voice bright.
"I was waiting at the crosswalk for people when a vicious dog barked. I tried crossing to get away and lost it. Thank you so much."
She bowed repeatedly in gratitude, even though Na-rae hadn't found it yet.
'So this is femininity... No wonder no guys stick with me.'
Na-rae, rough around the edges, actually took a liking to the woman who contrasted her so sharply.
"Stay here and ask passersby for now. I'll check around."
Pitying her, Na-rae offered to search herself.
"Yes, thank you. My husband gave them to me as a gift. Thank you. Please."
The woman bowed again.
"No, save the bows for after we find them. I'll do a quick lap—stay put."
Na-rae headed to the crosswalk, calming the woman.
'Man, I need to learn that feminine charm.'
She checked around the traffic light where the woman said she'd fled the dog.
Nothing there.
She looked while crossing.
On the crosswalk, something new since yesterday morning's commute: a white spray-painted outline of a body.
'Whoa, an accident right near home.'
Na-rae carefully stepped around it.
Some rowdy high school girls behind her stepped right on it.
'Those ill-mannered brats. Calm down... it's not like they stepped on me.'
Across the street, she spotted a red shoe under a trash can by the roadside.
It matched the one in the woman's hand.
"Someone must've kicked it here. No wonder she couldn't find it."
Na-rae picked it up and wiped it with tissue.
A bit dirty from under the can, but it looked stunning once cleaned.
"Would these suit me?"
She glanced at her baggy pants and shook her head.
When Na-rae brought the shoe, the woman seemed genuinely thrilled, tears welling in her big eyes as she bowed over and over.
'Are they expensive? Pretty, but don't look pricey.'
Still, Na-rae felt good about doing a good deed.
Watching the woman slip them on, Na-rae couldn't shake the body outline and asked,
"Where do you live?"
"The officetel across the street."
It was the same building as Na-rae's.
"Oh, perfect! I live there too. Come on, I'll help you cross."
Helping her across would ease her mind and cap off the day's good deed nicely.
The woman bowed her thanks again.
'Wow, totally automatic. Not even a big deal, but it feels good. Gotta do more good stuff.'
"Light's blue. Let's cross."
Na-rae led carefully, and the woman grabbed her arm, walking together.
Na-rae glanced at her.
Sensing the look, the woman said,
"When crossing, I hold my husband's arm so he won't worry—it's a habit."
Her smile was warm.
"Your husband's so caring. Where is he today?"
"No contact since he left for work yesterday. Phone's off. I came out to meet him, got spooked by the dog, and lost my shoe. Pathetic, right?"
Her face darkened briefly with worry for her husband.
"Nah, dog owners need to watch their pets. Must've scared you bad. No injuries?"
Sensing her feelings, Na-rae shifted to the dog instead of prying about the husband.
The crosswalk accident nagged at her too, so she held back.
"No, luckily. Thanks for caring. I live on the 6th floor. Sorry, late intro—I'm Hwang Seol-mi."
At the opening elevator, she introduced herself with another bow.
A feminine name.
"Oh, I'm Na-rae, 8th floor. See you around."
Na-rae pressed 6 for her, exchanging names at last.
Seol-mi thanked her profusely as she got off on 6.
"Ha, she sure knows how to express gratitude for the little things. Hope her husband gets home soon."
The crosswalk accident lingered, like a stone in her chest.
'What's this uneasy feeling? Ugh, better shower and crash.'
* * *
The officetel was duplex-style: a narrow staircase from the first-floor living area led to a low-ceilinged second floor.
Na-rae used the second floor as her bedroom with a bed there.
Right below was the entryway, flanked by a narrow hallway with bathroom, shoe closet, and fridge.
Coming down the hall opened to the first floor, with sofa, dining table, TV, and computer desk along the walls.
Fully furnished, basics were against the walls and sink.
Furniture lining the walls left the first-floor center feeling spacious from above.
Front was glass, with large windows at each end.
She hadn't noticed before, but a streetlight across at the crosswalk lit everything up clearly.
On the 8th floor, no need for blinds.
"Why can't I stop thinking about it?"
Staring out the window, she lit a cigarette.
"Ah, gotta quit."
After showering into comfy sleepwear, she hit the bed.
Forcing sleep felt necessary, body exhausted anyway.
She drifted off unaware.
In her doze, women's voices came from the entryway.
'How'd they get in? No keypad beep.'
As Na-rae puzzled in fear and confusion, the voices continued.
"This the place?"
"Has to be. The clingy stray ghost we followed said so. If not, no biggie. Kill her and hunt that other bitch down."
"Yeah, whatever. Hope it's that red-lipped naughty one, though. Tired of searching."
Too vivid for a dream.
Like they didn't care if she heard.
Distance dulled the spiritual energy.
Byung-su was getting used to the energy from Emel, but Na-rae hadn't improved at all.
Cold sweat trickled down her back.
This energy felt like the monstrous women who'd attacked her in the bathroom recently—unsettling.
Holes where eyes should be, lips torn exposing teeth.
The old dokkaebi had clearly taken those monstrous women.
'Not that cat spirit. But similar vibe. Another chuk-gwi? Why target me?'
She regretted not seeking the old dokkaebi sooner to master her energy.
'They're after me. Gonna hurt me. But why?'
Now the voices moved from the entry hall to the first-floor living area.
"Sleeping over there?"
"Just saw—flinched at my voice. That naughty bitch is faking sleep."
"Oh, how cute. Must be terrified. Poor thing! It'll be over soon."
Na-rae's breath caught.
Even swallowing felt like it'd summon them; terror froze her.
Then, cigarette smoke tickled her nose from somewhere.
A long exhale followed.
Sound placed it on the first-floor sofa.
'Not coming up? Smoking before heading up?'
Incomprehensible.
Cigarettes didn't fit monstrous women.
'Why no footsteps coming up?'
Unable to bear it, Na-rae cracked her eyes.
In the dark, a human silhouette.
Male build.
'A man? Voices were women—two of them.'
The man sat on the sofa smoking; no sign of the women.
He looked up toward Na-rae on the second floor.
Na-rae startled but didn't shut her eyes.
'Who is this guy? Burglar? Why smoke?'
She realized she was in her underwear.
Couldn't move now.
Burglar could turn robber, robber rapist.
'Where'd those women go?'
At least this man seemed less threatening than the women.
But no normal guy breaks into a lone woman's place.
To avoid detection, she held her breath, tensed, lying still.
The man stared at the second floor a moment, stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, and stood.