Like Nothing Happened
Monday morning had arrived.
Backpack slung over one shoulder, Kang Hyeong-seok hesitated a moment before reaching for the office door. If Shin Jeong-ah had already come in, how would she react? Could he treat her the way he always had?
Like it even matters.
Brow pinched tight, he stretched his hand toward the door. He was the one who had given the help; feeling self-conscious around Shin Jeong-ah, the one who had received it, was absurd.
"Good morning."
He had barely stepped inside, offering his usual greeting, when—
"Hyeong-seo..."
Shin Jeong-ah rose from her chair as if she'd been waiting for him and him alone, then changed her expression.
"Assistant Manager Kang, you're in?"
Blunt and cool. The usual Shin Jeong-ah.
"Yes. You're here early."
"I wanted to look over what my predecessor left behind. You know how it is — I never even got a handover."
That much was certainly true. Noh Soo-chul had quit as though fleeing for his life, and Shin Jeong-ah had received no handover of any kind.
That was the hardest part of all. Simply working out what her job even was, how it was meant to be done, and exactly how far her responsibilities stretched would be enough to give anyone a splitting headache.
The rank gap must sting, too. A Deputy General Manager had walked out, and a Section Chief had been brought in to replace him. From the company's standpoint, it was a tidy way to cut labor costs; from the worker's standpoint, it was enough to drive anyone out of their mind. Not just for her, either — for everyone around her.
Which was why Jeong-ah seemed determined to do everything she could to keep the burden off her new teammates.
"Have you had your coffee yet?"
Jeong-ah checked the time on her smartwatch and shook her head. "I've got time. Want to grab a cup?"
"I'll go get it ready, then."
"Thanks. I'll be by the fire exit."
"Yes, ma'am."
Watching her gather her cigarettes and head out ahead of him, Hyeong-seok gave a small nod. Judging by how she was acting, the thing he'd dreaded didn't seem to be happening after all.
Bang.
They had come up to the building's rooftop together. Click, fwoosh. Jeong-ah set a cigarette between her lips, leaned back against the railing, and took a sip of the coffee he handed her. Then she closed her eyes, only to open them again a moment later, her brow tightly furrowed.
"This is rough. Really."
"If it's getting a handle on the work that's the problem, couldn't you ask the Department Head for help?"
"No!"
They were the only two people on the roof. Jeong-ah snapped, then pressed the hand gripping her cigarette against the corner of her eye. "I honestly don't know how I'm supposed to treat you now."
"You seemed fine this morning. Just keep it that way."
"Haahhh..."
Jeong-ah groaned like a woman truly put upon, then drew on her cigarette. "You look awfully relaxed about all this. I spent the whole of Sunday racking my brain."
"You think it was any different for me?"
He had been worrying, not five minutes ago, about how she would act when he opened the office door. Sipping his coffee from a good three paces away, he let a sigh slip out between his lips.
"Let's just pretend it never happened. That's easiest for both of us."
"...Easier said than done."
Jeong-ah murmured it like a grumble, squeezing her eyes shut. "Just in case, I even went through the news articles. It was real. A son from that house really did kill his own mother."
He hadn't told her which house it was, but he had at least given her the neighborhood. The article was about a son who had brutally murdered his widowed mother — and mutilated her body besides. The more she read, the hotter her anger burned, and what infuriated her most was that the son had ended his own life. He had fled into death without paying so much as a sliver of his debt.
"Just forget about it. It's easiest for both of us that way."
"...Since when have you been doing that?"
"You mean driving out ghosts?"
Jeong-ah nodded around her cigarette, and Hyeong-seok pressed his lips together for a beat before answering. "Not long at all. Counting by the number of times? This was only my second."
"Really? Then how are you so good at it?"
Her eyes went wide with disbelief. That day, he had looked every bit the practiced shaman — so much so that it had seemed impossible.
"I suppose all the studying I've done over the years helped."
"Ah... right, you studied folklore, didn't you?"
Was that why? Her brows bent with the question as she exhaled a long plume of smoke. "What was the first time like?"
"Your predecessor was a man named Deputy General Manager Noh Soo-chul. It happened while I was out with him."
"Really?"
Her eyes brimmed with curiosity, so Hyeong-seok gave her the short version. "We were being chased by a Chang-gwi."
"A ch-Chang-gwi? Where?"
"In the mountains. It was fogged in."
Jeong-ah's face twisted in revulsion. She had no idea what a Chang-gwi looked like, but she knew it was a ghost. Just imagining being hunted by one of those things — through a mountain shrouded in fog like a scene out of a horror movie, no less — was enough to raise gooseflesh. Enough to make her feel grateful she'd never lived through anything like it.
"Anyway, Deputy General Manager Noh Soo-chul quit the very next day. And then you came in, Section Chief."
"...So it really hasn't been long at all."
"No."
Jeong-ah rubbed her forearm as she looked at him. Strange — goosebumps had come up all on their own. She wasn't a blind believer in shamanism, but she did wander into tarot parlors and fortune-tellers' shops now and then. She'd seen plenty of shamans over the years. Never once had she met anyone like Hyeong-seok.
"So did you receive a god and everything?"
"Something like that."
"Wh-when?"
"The first time I drove out a ghost, I suppose."
Jeong-ah's face had gone completely stiff with unease — so much so that she didn't even notice her cigarette ash dropping onto her heels. "You really are somethi—"
Just then—
Bang.
Kwak Young-ho shouldered the door open, and at the sight of Shin Jeong-ah and Kang Hyeong-seok together, his eyes went wide in surprise. "What's this? You two were together?"
"Hello, Department Head."
"Hello."
Kwak gave a casual wave and set a cigarette between his lips. Jeong-ah slyly tucked hers behind her back, while he lit his and shook his head hard. "Don't do that. That's not the kind of atmosphere we run here, Section Chief Shin."
"Ah. Yes, sir."
"Relax, relax. So what were you two talking about?"
Jeong-ah faltered at the question — and in that instant—
"We were talking about her predecessor."
"Deputy General Manager Noh Soo-chul?"
Kwak's brows bent sharply. "What about him?"
"Nothing, sir. Section Chief Shin never received a handover. We were just going over the work, and it came up naturally."
"Ah, right."
Kwak nodded, understanding, then dragged on his filter several times as if something were stuck in his chest. "Phew! Section Chief Shin, sorry about this. Your predecessor had no sense of responsibility at all — you've got it rough."
"It's fine, really. He must not have been much of a person."
"Don't get me started. Did you hear why he quit?"
Jeong-ah shook her head without looking at Hyeong-seok — though she was keenly aware of him.
"Phew! He quit because he saw a ghost. A ghost. Can you even believe that?"
Kwak exhaled an irritated ribbon of smoke as he stared off into the distance — and in that moment, Jeong-ah glanced at Hyeong-seok, and Hyeong-seok, catching her eye, gave a short nod. She understood in a heartbeat why he'd asked her to keep it secret from the company.
"He really was irresponsible."
"Had I known what kind of man he was, I'd have done something about it long ago. Aigoo, the mere thought of Deputy General Manager Noh still keeps me up at night. Up at night."
Kwak grumbled, laughing bitterly, then pointed at Hyeong-seok with the hand holding his coffee. "Anyway — if anything comes up you don't understand, ask me or Assistant Manager Kang. He'll know it cold."
"Assistant Manager Kang?"
When Jeong-ah echoed the name in surprise, Kwak nodded and answered. "You don't find many people like him."
Kwak's gaze on Hyeong-seok was deep — the look of a man studying someone he could trust. He had once had Noh Soo-chul looked into, just in case the man tried to hold the company hostage with something untoward on his way out. In the process, he had learned a few things.
That punk. If he was struggling, he should have said so.
Noh Soo-chul had been the sort of man who, like an onion, kept peeling back layer after layer of filth. He'd dumped his own work onto Hyeong-seok far more than once or twice. Hyeong-seok had carried so much for his rank that the words at this rate, he deserves a promotion before long had practically become company small talk.
"Understood. I'll ask Assistant Manager Kang plenty of questions."
"That all right with you, Assistant Manager Kang?"
It wasn't a question pressing down on him with rank — it was genuinely asking for his consent.
"Yes, sir."
With such a clean-cut answer, Kwak had no choice but to nod, letting out a sigh of smoke. "Honestly... if everyone were like you, how nice would that be."
Hyeong-seok laughed it off sheepishly, and Kwak laughed along after him, then glanced at his wristwatch and stubbed out his cigarette. "Let's head back in. Oh — and are you two both free tonight?"
"Why do you ask, sir?"
Hyeong-seok, who had been reaching for the door, turned around to find Kwak pointing at Shin Jeong-ah. "We owe you a welcome party, that's why. Last Friday was pure chaos — never got around to it."
"It's Monday, though?"
This time it was Jeong-ah who asked, and Kwak smiled awkwardly. "Is that a problem? If it feels like too much, we'll just do a light dinner. No drinks."
"No, that's fine with me."
"Good. Then Section Chief Shin, just think about what you'd like to eat."
"I will."
Watching Jeong-ah and Kwak smile faintly at each other, Hyeong-seok opened the door down to the fire stairs. A welcome party on a Monday. It did feel a little off. But he knew the rhythm of company dinners far too well to find it burdensome or annoying.
"Come on, we could have gone somewhere nicer."
This was a jeontjip — a gritty old tavern that specialized in Korean pancakes. It reeked of heavy cooking oil and served its makgeolli in dented aluminum kettles. If this had been a rainy-day company dinner, maybe. But for a welcome party, it felt just a little too shabby.
"Why? I love jeon."
"Still, isn't the menu a little too ordinary?"
"I read the reviews — they say the seafood scallion pancake here is genuinely amazing. And the makgeolli is house-brewed, rich and delicious, apparently."
"Oh, is that so? Ah— no, no, you don't have to drink. No need to push yourself."
"I'm drinking because I want to."
"Reeally, now?"
Kwak's mouth split into a wide grin — Namgoong Min-ah's did not. She had apparently expected a great deal from a welcome party, and having decided that at the very least it wouldn't be someplace like this, her lips were stuck out in a full pout. Beside her sat Assistant Manager Lee Jin-pyeong, a man so quiet it was as if he weren't there at all.
"You're all right with this too, Assistant Manager Kang?"
"Yes. I like jeon as well."
"That's a relief. Everyone, let's head in."
Jeong-ah opened the door and stepped inside. From the very first impression, she could tell the place was the real deal — and the food went without saying. The seafood scallion pancake arrived not the least bit soggy, practically flash-fried to a crisp; the potato pancake crackled on the outside and was pillowy within; and the kimchi pancake was nothing short of a revelation.
"Wow, these people really know what they're doing."
"You've never been here before, Department Head?"
"Us? We always end up at the same old places. Honestly, I didn't even know a place like this existed."
"You should come more often. I bet it's wonderful on a rainy day."
"Section Chief Shin..."
Until now, there hadn't been a single drinker in the department. Kwak now wore the face of a man thoroughly charmed by Shin Jeong-ah.
"Assistant Manager Kang, may I order some dumplings?"
"Min-ah, if you want them, go ahead and order."
"Really? Excuse me! One plate of dumplings, please!"
Unlike her earlier sulking, Namgoong Min-ah seemed to have taken a liking to the little tavern after all.
Glug-glug-glug-glug.
After pouring makgeolli into her cup, Jeong-ah held the kettle out to Lee Jin-pyeong as well. "Is Assistant Manager Lee always this quiet?"
"Yes."
Watching Jin-pyeong steadily demolish the kimchi pancake without so much as lifting his cup, Jeong-ah nodded as though she had him all figured out. It was called a welcome party, but with none of the pomp — just good food and idle chatter — the evening felt all the easier for it.
"You don't drink, Assistant Manager Kang?"
"I've got the car with me."
"Call a driver service, then. It's on me."
"No, thank you. I don't like alcohol enough for that."
It was a conversation with Jeong-ah, yet Kwak abruptly went mournful.
"What a shame. Then you and I are the only drinkers left, Department Head."
"Perhaps I'll have a glass myself, then."
"No, no! There's no need to go that far. Honestly, Department Head, why would you?"
Jeong-ah cried out in alarm and waved off Kwak, who had been slyly reaching for the kettle. In the end, dinner came to a close without another drop of makgeolli ordered.
"Oof, that hit the spot. Section Chief Shin — thank you for coming to our team."
"Please, Department Head. Don't mention it."
"No, I mean it. I really am grateful."
Reluctant to part just yet, Kwak glanced around. It was a proper commercial strip — a few bars nearby, a convenience store, even a café. "There's a café over there. Let's grab takeout, burn one last cigarette each, and call it a night. How's that?"
"Um, Department Head."
"Hm? Assistant Manager Lee."
"I should probably be heading home."
"Then just take a coffee for the road. Got it?"
"Yes, sir."
Kwak had just pulled his card out of his wallet to hand it over when—
"Huh? Isn't that Deputy General Manager Noh over there?"
Namgoong Min-ah, who had been idly eyeing the convenience store, pointed off to one side. Every gaze snapped that way at once, and Hyeong-seok's brows narrowed fiercely.
Because Noh Soo-chul really was there — looking for all the world like a man caught in the middle of something he should not have been doing, in the most suspicious posture imaginable.