Chapter 48
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Monster Tale Specialist Office: The Cursed Video (10)
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Suhyeon went to the movie theater often.
At first, her club president Seonwoo didn’t go, but after she asked him to join her once and he accepted, they started going together regularly.
It was pretty humiliating to hear people say the president didn’t do anything, and she also had a little scheme in mind that being in a club active enough to win newspaper awards might help a bit with college admissions.
Unlike before, it had turned into fairly serious club activity.
It was unexpected, but not a bad thing at all.
The only issue—or not really an issue—was that they had to keep watching movies that suited Suhyeon’s tastes.
“What the hell is fun about this?”
“Uh… well? It gets fun once you watch it….”
The first time they watched some minor art film, Seonwoo briefly regretted ever agreeing to let her submit articles to the school newspaper.
But as they watched more and more different films, ones that matched his tastes started to appear.
Seonwoo asked Suhyeon about a few movies he’d found enjoyable.
“…That scene, was there a reason they shot it that way? It had this round feeling to it.”
It was a question about a minor cinematic device. Suhyeon, who’d never been asked something like that before, answered in detail.
“It’s, uh, they used a slightly different lens on purpose during filming….”
“Huh? How can you tell just from the screen?”
“Well, the aspect ratio is a bit different too….”
He didn’t quite get it at first, but after hearing it a few times, it started to make sense. For the first time, Seonwoo rewatched a movie he’d seen before.
Watching it again after hearing her explanation felt completely different from before.
Things he hadn’t noticed started coming into view, and he began to understand the language of film.
“So that was the intention?”
The very first time he thought he’d analyzed a director’s intent on his own, Seonwoo asked Suhyeon about it. She’d said this:
“We don’t know the director’s intent. There’s no real point in trying to pin down the exact one. We just speculate and interpret.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Seonwoo was a bit disappointed, but her next words eased his mind a little.
“But I think the same way you do.”
Only after hearing that could Seonwoo finally understand Suhyeon’s perspective. And he became the first person her age to truly get her.
Now, Seonwoo volunteered to go to movie theaters with Suhyeon. They’d started in the club room, but there were limits to what they could watch there, so they ended up going all over the place.
The Movie Appreciation Club started doing serious activities, more than when all the members had been active.
Trust grew between them. She’d gained her first true understanding companion, and he saw her as an oddball but a reliable friend in the field she loved.
Their relationship was good, and the activities continued.
Suhyeon’s parents were still dissatisfied with her narrow circle of friends, but they were pleased that she’d finally made a proper friend for the first time.
Then one day, Suhyeon heard at their usual hangout spot that the first film in the Ring series was getting a remake. She’d watched countless movies and had tons of experiences since, but the Ring series was still her favorite.
There were plenty of more entertaining or meaningful films objectively, but the most shocking scene for her remained the one where the ghost crawled out of the television.
In a way, it was the movie that first gave her an epiphany. So the domestic release of that remake was something she absolutely had to see.
But it was a niche genre, and with poor reviews overseas, most theaters wouldn’t screen it.
However, after persistent requests from a few people, it finally got a late-night slot. It was great news for Suhyeon.
In fact, she’d been the most vocal one pushing for it. She even felt a sense of duty to watch that movie.
It was summer break, so she asked her parents. She wanted permission to see a late-night screening. They agreed readily, saying she could get there however, but they’d pick her up on the way back. Filled with anticipation, Suhyeon headed to the theater.
The movie was horrifically boring. It didn’t have that old-school vibe. It wasn’t the refined direction born from a low budget and limited special effects.
It was just shoddy work ruined by obvious effects that destroyed the original feel. Even Suhyeon had to agree with that assessment.
But for her, that was a minor issue. For the first time in ages, Suhyeon was shocked again. The movie itself wasn’t fun, but that one scene was salvageable.
Her heart pounded. After the film ended, she sat there for a bit, lost in the afterglow.
She left the theater and called her parents. She wanted to share this feeling right away.
Rrring, rrring—
No answer. She kept calling until her nearly dead battery finally gave out, and her phone shut off. But her parents still didn’t show.
She was getting tired and wanted to go home. Even when she borrowed a convenience store clerk’s phone nearby, they didn’t pick up.
Suhyeon waited endlessly like that and could only get home on the first bus of the day.
She heard about the car accident after arriving home. The moment she was told, she collapsed.
She couldn’t cry throughout the entire funeral. It all felt like her fault.
“If I hadn’t asked them to pick me up, if I hadn’t watched the movie, if I hadn’t pushed for the release in the first place….”
Suhyeon thought that if she hadn’t gotten hooked on the cursed video, her parents wouldn’t have died.
Lots of people came to the funeral, but no one helped her. Relatives handled the procedures but didn’t look after her.
Seonwoo came first upon hearing the news and stayed the longest, but he couldn’t say a word.
Not knowing how things worked, the funeral ended. Afterward, Suhyeon just rested at home. She didn’t go to school for over a week.
Teachers and classmates visited sometimes, but she pretended not to be home.
The house was quiet. No rice in the cooker. Toothpaste had run out. The water was always lukewarm. It was all stuff her parents had prepared in advance. Now there was no one to refill them.
For the first time since the funeral, tears came.
Another week passed. Suhyeon pulled herself together and went back to school. Everyone looked at her with worried eyes—teachers and students alike, treating her like a shard of broken glass.
Suhyeon quit the Movie Club first thing. She stopped posting reviews on sites too. She locked the door to the room where she kept her movie collection. She never wanted to go in again.
Months passed like that.
One day, while watching TV, Suhyeon caught herself smiling.
It was absurd. She didn’t deserve to smile. Thinking that, she gave the TV to a relative. They took it gladly.
Other relatives who heard said to give them anything unused. Except for her parents’ belongings, she gave away whatever they asked for.
The only valuable thing left was a tablet her parents had kept in the car as a birthday gift.
It was found at the accident scene.
No one would be happy getting something like that right after the funeral, so it had been shoved away since the accident. But now that she’d cleared out most things from the house, it came to mind.
Suhyeon fiddled with the tablet. Nothing seemed wrong with it. While testing it out, she unconsciously went to an old site she used to visit.
Out of old habit, she browsed videos on the site and read others’ reviews. She almost left a comment absentmindedly, but she wasn’t logged in. That’s when she realized she’d lost track of time again, wandering the site.
Without even playing the downloaded videos, she shut the tablet down immediately.
It had been quite a while since she’d watched a movie. She was bored and listless, but that was her punishment. She had to endure it.
Seonwoo’s life had changed too. With only one active member left in the Movie Appreciation Club, he kept it going alone.
Teachers suggested disbanding it, but he couldn’t.
“Suhyeon will come back someday,” Seonwoo said.
The teachers, knowing her situation, agreed to keep the club even if she didn’t participate, as an exception.
Seonwoo watched movies alone, analyzed them, and tried writing. But it wasn’t fun like before. He couldn’t analyze films as deeply as Suhyeon or write as well.
He thought about quitting reviews. But he had to keep going. This was the only place that might be there if she decided to return.
Once a month, he wrote a report. Even gritting his teeth, it wasn’t as good as hers, but he couldn’t stop.
Seonwoo regretted not saying a word at the funeral. He’d never been around someone going through that, so he didn’t know how to comfort her. That’s why he stayed silent. Suhyeon had deteriorated more each day of the three-day funeral.
That’s why he couldn’t stop her when she said she was quitting the club. It felt like his fault for not offering even one word of comfort.
Months passed, and as maintaining the club wore him down, Seonwoo decided to talk to Suhyeon.
He couldn’t bring himself to directly ask her to come back to the club. So indirectly, he asked what item might help with watching movies.
Suhyeon silently handed him the tablet.
Seonwoo took it reflexively. It wasn’t what he’d wanted, but he couldn’t return it to her turned back.
“One month from now…. I’ll use it for exactly one month and give it back.”
Suhyeon said he didn’t need to return it, but Seonwoo pretended not to hear and turned away.
“It’s not really this I wanted. I wanted to watch movies with you.”
Seonwoo’s words swirled in his mouth but never came out.
* * *
“That tablet issue was, honestly, just a small misunderstanding. It would’ve been trivial under normal circumstances. Hardly even a mistake.”
But with the curse attached, it could no longer be called a minor slip-up.
“This curse was made by you.”
The form of the curse made it abundantly clear. Taeju said it in a sharp voice.
“To be blunt, it wasn’t that big a threat to Seonwoo. For a death curse.”
At best, the curse could only reach out to an arm beyond the screen. In that sense, it wasn’t an easy tool for killing Seonwoo.
But what if it had activated as intended, with Suhyeon triggering the curse?
Sia had trashed it as low-quality, but to someone who’d lost the will to live, quality didn’t matter. Even just an arm was plenty threatening to someone with no will to escape.
“But you really could have died. No exaggeration.”
“Would’ve been better that way. Cleaner and easier.”
Suhyeon’s face was utterly blank now. Taeju spoke in a voice that seemed to barely hold back anger at her expression.
“Yeah, I figured you’d say that.”