Chapter 65
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Monster Tale Specialist Office: Stray Evil Cat (14)
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[Well, if there's something you want to say to your son, I might be able to pass it on.]
[Something to say? How much meaning could there be in words passed on by a stranger?]
At first, it was the Director's voice that came through. Then, at the next voice that followed, Seongho shot up from his seat.
It was a voice he'd longed to hear.
[Who knows? It might mean a lot.]
[Coming from you, that actually sounds plausible.]
It was his father's voice—the one he'd thought he'd never hear again.
Not an imitation by the Mangnyang, but his real father's voice.
[It might be your last chance.]
The Director said. His father fell silent for a moment.
[True, it just might be. I don't even know how long it's been since I was in my right mind. Things definitely weren't this bad before.]
His father spoke in a wistful tone.
[So, go ahead and say it.]
[Um....]
Either unaware or unconcerned that it was being recorded, his father spoke slowly.
[First, tell him I wandered a bit too far on my walk. Yeah, tell him I'm getting on in years—back in the day, this would've been a piece of cake, but my body's starting to wear out a little.]
No, Dad, that's a distance even young me couldn't walk. Swallowing those words inwardly, Seongho listened to the voice.
[And tell him it's not his fault he didn't realize I had dementia beforehand. I didn't even know myself—how could that kid? He's got a strong sense of responsibility, so he's probably blaming himself. That sense of duty kept him from noticing those around him, and now it's fueling more guilt. It's a vicious cycle. Well, he learned it all from me, so it's only natural.]
Kid. Even now, in middle age—and he had been back then too—his father still called him "kid."
If he were young, it might make sense, but his father was calling out flaws he still had at this age as his own problem. His father still saw him as a child.
[That's about all the must-say stuff. Anything else? I was thinking of asking you to pass on that I love him, but it'd probably sound weird coming from you.]
[Don't worry, I'll pass it on exactly as is.]
It was the first time the Director had interjected since his father started speaking in earnest. His father still seemed unaware the conversation was being recorded.
[Well, what can you do? I'll trust you. By the way, how many more years do you think I can hold out?]
[Three? Maybe a little less.]
Just as the Director said, his father passed away a little less than three years later.
[Couldn't you say a little over two instead? Come on....]
There was no fear in his father's voice at the Director's words. Was he not afraid of death? The moment Seongho wondered about it, the Director asked.
[Aren't you scared?]
[You, of all people, asking me that? You know everything.]
His father sounded puzzled as he questioned the Director. But the Director replied nonchalantly.
[Sometimes you have to ask even when you know.]
[If I have to answer, not as much as you might think. Maybe because I'm already sick. I just wish there were fewer people like me.]
Seongho thought it was just like his father. That must be why so many people came to the funeral. There must have been some who truly grieved with them.
[If you want, I can help you even now. I've got that item you asked for later, so this much is fine.]
It was an offer to remove the Mangnyang even now, if he wished.
There was a slight rustling sound. Though he couldn't see it, Seongho pictured his father shaking his head. The image formed clearly in his mind.
[Are you testing me? Even if you took this off, how much better an experience could I have?]
[Well, you'd regain your clarity a few more times. And live a few more years than I said.]
[No thanks. Why bother my busy son? If my wife were still alive, maybe I'd consider it.]
His father spoke without a hint of regret.
But in truth, he must have regretted it. His father never showed his true feelings. Seongho could only imagine how desperately his father wanted those moments of clarity. But his father never said it.
[I respect your decision.]
The Director said. Unlike everything before, his voice was solemn and grave. For a moment, it sounded like someone else entirely, startling Seongho. His father seemed to think the same, voicing it for him.
[Whoa, someone who can talk like that—why's your usual voice so flippant?]
[That's my style.]
The Director's voice had already returned to normal. Frivolous and playful.
[Anyway, handle the 'I love you' however you see fit. And if there's no issue, tell me a bit about what happens after I die.]
[Just as the Mangnyang's using you now, after death, you'll use it. Tables turned.]
[Yeah, that'll happen.]
[It'll be torture for the Mangnyang—stuck with you instead of going elsewhere. So it'll haunt your family.]
[Didn't you say you'd resolve that much?]
[Yeah. It'll be a bit tough, but anyway—the Mangnyang's most likely to go to your son in that form.]
It was something Seongho had never heard before. The voices continued.
[Can you change that?]
[To your grandson, then?]
[Honestly, my son's getting up there in age. Meeting the Mangnyang would be less risky for my grandson.]
[Not exactly safe either.]
[Well, to be frank, I might still love my son more than my grandson. Plus, won't you help out?]
[True. Just a hassle.]
[Then grant me that favor. You would've had to work harder without me anyway. Or actually, you knew I'd say this—why act like you didn't?]
[Necessary procedure.]
[What the...]
Seongho could picture his father's bewildered expression. He let out a small chuckle. The tone was exactly like before.
[Anyway, that enough? Say one last must-pass message. Then I'll let you peek at the place you wanted.]
[I see. One last word.]
His father fell silent. Seongho was curious what the most important message would be. What would he say? Would he scold him for his shortcomings? Seongho held his breath in tension. The surroundings were already quiet, but he focused to avoid any interruption.
[Tell him I'm sorry.]
Sorry? What did his father have to be sorry for?
[Shouldn't you say what you're sorry for?]
[Everything. For becoming like this in my old age and making him suffer. For not buying him things he wanted because we lived poor in a tiny house when he was little. For not playing with him because I was working. Everything weighs on me now.]
[Weighs on you.]
[Yeah. That's the best way to put it. I failed to give my kid what he needed as a child, and now as an adult, it feels like I've dumped all my burdens on him. Can't rest easy.]
[Well, if that's how you see it.]
The Director said. That one line felt aimed at Seongho himself, making him flinch. It probably was. He was certain.
[But if you get the chance, say something else. Might even get one shot someday.]
[We'll see. If it comes, I'll think about it then.]
[Alright, that's it for this. Now, off to that place you wanted. Plenty of time left.]
The Director said that. Seongho thought the audio file would end soon. But the playback time was still quite long.
What followed wasn't the meaningful conversation from before, but somewhat trivial talk. His father's reminiscences as he headed to their old home, the Director explaining how the place had become like this, where the former residents had gone. They chatted about such things.
But to Seongho, it wasn't trivial. His father's voice was weary but filled with pure joy.
He sounded like a child, delighted.
Seongho couldn't remember the last time he'd heard his father like that.
[Getting tired now.]
It seemed to mean it was time to head back.
The file was nearing its end, leaving Seongho a bit regretful.
[From now on, you'll probably keep shutting yourself away. Don't want the Mangnyang going elsewhere.]
[Doesn't matter. I'm just a senile old fool anyway.]
That phrasing hurt Seongho's heart. But he couldn't just ache over it—the rest was too important.
[Your grandson will resent you. And when you go into the room, he'll lock the door so you can't come out.]
[Is that so? Thinking of that kid suffering, better that way.]
His father already knew the future—that Siwoo would do that to him. Seongho felt hollow.
[Locking you up is immoral. You plan to forgive him?]
[Seeing my grandson suffer, I'd just feel sorry. Hope he... reflects and repents.]
[What if he doesn't?]
The Director asked slyly. His father seemed caught off guard, not expecting it.
[Well, disappointing, but...]
After a pause, his father spoke in a relatively bright voice.
[My son's son won't fail at that much. Don't know him well since my mind's gone, but if his dad's raising him, he'll manage.]
Seongho thought to himself.
'Yes, Dad. My son felt it was wrong.'
In the end, his father was right. It made him glad, yet a little sad—Seongho smiled bitterly.
[I'll pass that on.]
The recording ended there. It left quite an aftertaste for Seongho.
He'd received something more valuable than money. When he forgot his father's voice, he'd want to listen again and again.
Lighter-hearted than when he'd entered, Seongho looked up at the sky as he stepped outside. Light pollution filled it, stars barely visible—but one shone clearly.
For some reason, it felt like that star was looking down at him, amusing Seongho greatly.
He still had much to say. But now, he couldn't.
Suddenly, it struck him: a son could never match what a father had said to him.
Then, those unsaid words—shouldn't he pass them to his own son?
Seongho had words to tell his son right now. That Grandpa forgave him—that he'd forgiven him even before he committed the wrong.
* * *
After seeing Seongho and Siwoo off, the four were utterly exhausted. Among them, Sia was in the worst shape, showing slight withdrawal symptoms.
"Still, it ended well."
"Yeah. It did."
Sia stretched as she replied to Taeju.
After one failure, Sia had been so busy preparing she hadn't even had time for a smoke break. Her head was filled with thoughts of finishing up and grabbing one. Though exhaustion made her not want to move now.
The team decided to pack up first, then rest. With so many hands and Woli's strength, cleanup went quickly.
As it wrapped up, Taeju muttered offhandedly.
"That was gruesome. This one too."
Taeju shuddered, calling it creepy. Once the conversation started, they took a moment for chit-chat.
"Ugh—yeah, the appearance was pretty gross."
Woli said to Taeju as she sorted her items.
"Better if it was just a severed head or just a torso."
"Sometimes I don't get your sensibilities...."
Taeju shook his head at Woli's words. She often said unsettling things casually.
"That's gruesome!"
Seol-i cried out softly.
Taeju felt relieved there was someone sharing his sense here, but Seol-i's follow-up wasn't much different from Woli's.
"Even if sending it off, at least send it with the body attached! Right?"
Taeju could only mutter again.
"I don't get your sensibilities either...."
Wondering if that's the average high school girl these days, Taeju sighed deeply.
"No, what do you mean 'body attached'?"
At Taeju's question, Seol-i smiled brightly.
"My sister said dying with your head falling off is too pathetic. Huh? Wait, is it attaching the body or the head?"
Watching Seol-i ponder which, Taeju felt a headache coming on.
"Isn't dying any other way pathetic...?"
Her instilled sense of 'normal' was definitely off.
Come to think of it, Taeju wondered how things were going over there.
"By the way, Seol-i, any reaction from them yet?"
Seol-i always carried her hairpin close. She touched the one at her waist, then slowly nodded with a disappointed look.
"Seems like progress, but taking longer than expected."
"Hmm, at that point, it's not that long. Can't expect instant adaptation after hundreds of years in a few days."
Seol-i nodded at Taeju's words.
"Yeah, true."
Seol-i wasn't impatient. She could feel something happening, so no anxiety.
"By the way, did things go well with Siwoo and his dad?"
Taeju shrugged, and Sia answered instead.
Having seen Siwoo's expression, Sia knew the knot in his heart had loosened somewhat. Of course, standing up would take his own effort.
"Surprisingly good reviews."
"Since we're resting anyway, mind if I step out for a—"
The moment Sia thought to sneak out for a break now, the Director appeared. Probably from upstairs.
"I'm heading out."
With the Director there, Sia held back, and all eyes turned to him.
"Right now?"
Taeju asked on behalf of the group.
"Yeah. Gotta return some change~"
The Director said innocently.
"Huh? What?"
"Something useless to me, but precious to them?"
He didn't seem inclined to explain fully, so Taeju dropped it. Instead, curious Seol-i asked.
"If change, doesn't that mean you got something back? What'd you get this time?"
"Starting with the bonus, it'd be helping you resolve this case. This is the change."
The Mangnyang hadn't fully used its strengths this time. Because the deceased had held onto it until the end.
Honestly, they'd been helped by the client, so the Director's "change" phrasing fit.
"Then the non-bonus?"
"That one."
Casually, the Director pointed to the iron rake slumped in the corner.
"What, why's that there?"
Taeju just noticed they hadn't taken it. It was tucked away, hard to see.
"That's what we got?"
"Yeah. Precisely, I told the old man I'd take it after he died. Valuable item."
The Director said so, so it must be true, but it just looked like an oddly shaped tool.
"Art piece or something?"
Sia asked first. But the Director laughed it off.
"Nah, just has some ritual significance. Useful for catching incorporeal things later. Mainly for Woli."
"What? Mine?!"
Hearing that, Woli dropped her remaining luggage and scampered over to grab the rake. Grip felt awkward, but it'd get familiar with use.
"Perfect for Woli. Won't break ever. And since it caught a Mangnyang once, extra functions added."
Woli's eyes widened.
"Won't break? This won't snap?"
Her eyes sparkled like she'd gotten a cool toy.
"Nope. Won't break."
At the Director's words, before anyone could stop her, Woli gripped it hard with both hands. Seol-i yelped and dodged.
Yet the wooden handle truly didn't snap.
Woli, fired up, tried denting the metal. Naturally, no damage.
Only then did Taeju understand why it withstood paint-scraping force unscathed.
"Awesome! For real?!"
Woli exclaimed in wonder. Sighing at her excitement, Taeju said.
"Hey, warn us before testing. Scared the kid."
"Did I? Sorry!"
Woli showed Seol-i her palm in apology. Seol-i said it was fine and came to inspect the rake.
"But why's it so tough?"
"Secret."
The Director answered Taeju's question with that and stopped. Seeing no real answer coming, Taeju shook his head. The Director continued.
"What matters the origin? You got an unbreakable stick. That's key."
True, as the Director said. If Woli swung that full force, nothing seemed unbreakable. Taeju couldn't fathom why such a thing was made for poking ground, but undeniable utility.
"Yeah."
Definitely more satisfying than a celebrity autograph, so Taeju nodded approvingly.
"One thing I'm curious about."
Sia looked at the Director.
"Did you hope we'd fail once?"
Everyone had thought it but not voiced it. Silence fell briefly, then the Director smirked.
"Nah. Thought we might fail. But didn't hope for it."
"If you thought failure possible, why not tell us from the start?"
"Then you wouldn't grow."
The Director said, still smiling.
"Luckily, you were competent and solved it. Think positive~"
It was praise for the whole team. Taeju and Sia caught it and smirked, while Seol-i and Woli chattered obliviously.
"But where do we store this normally?!"
Woli shook the rake as she asked.
"Put it in my room since it's mine?!"
At Seol-i's words, Taeju waved dismissively—handle it yourself.
Sia, thinking to sneak out now, checked her pocket item carefully. As she quietly reached for the door, the Director clapped once.
"Alright, I'm off then—restore everything quick! Sia, no sneaking for a smoke."
Without looking back, he called out Sia's plan. She slunk back, embarrassed, lips pouting.
"The kids worked hard, and the oldest here says that?"
At the Director's teasing, Sia grumbled.
"...Don't wanna be adult."
"You talk about being a good adult, then that? And no adulting, where's smokes from?"
Taeju laughed at Sia's reaction. She shut up, no retort. Lips still pursed, but she sorted the last items resignedly.
"Heading out then."
"Yes. We can crash, right?"
"What, since when do you ask before sleeping?"
With that, the Director left with a bell chime.
Hoping for an easy one next, Taeju lifted the last luggage. Felt like a night for good sleep.
*Next Story*
"There's a weird rumor going around lately."
Boyoung said suddenly during lunch. Wondering what, Woli asked.
"Huh?"
"Finish eating first.... Anyway, the rumor is there's an invisible person in school."
"Your bad habit again?"
Woli swallowed and eyed Boyoung suspiciously. Boyoung looked awkward.
"No, real small talk. You'll get curious too."
Ghost stories were one thing, but invisible person trend baffled Woli.
"I mean, it's suspicious! The rumors go like this."
Boyoung beamed. Woli shook her head—here we go.
*'One high schooler dozed off during self-study, and someone covered them with a blanket. No one knows the owner's original blanket.'*
*'A few days ago, teacher's lost wallet appeared on the staff room desk.'*
*'Evidence of an assault got anonymously reported without anyone knowing.'*
"Stuff like that."
"No big deal?"
"Right?"
All harmless, just subtly odd. But the setting gave it special weight.
"Anyway, school ghost story!"