White Eyes at the Door
"Is— is that really true?"
Kim Yeong-chan, who had never dreamed Kang Hyeong-seok would offer this much, spoke in a voice thick with emotion. Kang Hyeong-seok took a sip of his still-steaming coffee before answering.
"In return, I have one condition."
"Yes! Name it!"
It came right after Kim Yeong-chan—a man who would do anything if it meant protecting his son—all but lunged at the offer. Kang Hyeong-seok cast a glance through the window toward the factory. Perhaps the mood wasn't so bad after all: Lee Jin-pyeong was out in the smoking area in front of the plant, chatting with the same worker they'd spoken to earlier.
"As you know, I'm not alone. If I go moving around by myself, it starts to look strange."
"Ah..."
Kim Yeong-chan had just clenched his lips shut, wondering what on earth they could do about that, when—
"Why don't you have a meal with your son?"
"A meal... with him?"
"Yes. As far as anyone can tell, the conversation went well and we're having dinner with you. That should look right."
Kim Yeong-chan clapped his hands as if to say, So that's how it's done! The gloom that had clouded his face mere moments ago had vanished without a trace.
"Understood! I'll call my son and set something up right away."
Once the meal was over, it would be quitting time anyway. He could send Lee Jin-pyeong home first without it seeming odd, and Kim Yeong-chan looked like the type to shape the outcome into whatever results Kwak Young-ho would love to hear. Frankly, simply sharing an evening meal with prickly Kim Yeong-chan could already count as a positive signal.
"Just handle the arrangements."
Kim Yeong-chan rose while Kang Hyeong-seok was still finishing his coffee, then hurried out of the container office.
"This place is the real deal."
The restaurant Kim Yeong-chan had chosen was a charcoal-grill house a good distance from the factory, not far from the apartment where he lived. It wasn't large, but it was quiet—good ground for conversation.
"Er... Assistant Manager Lee, was it?"
"Yes."
Kim Yeong-chan beamed a friendly smile and poured water into Lee Jin-pyeong's glass. Lee Jin-pyeong made a hurried grab for the bottle, but Kim Yeong-chan fended him off with rough good humor.
"Oh, none of that. I'm sorry I had you doing the talking with the workers lately—truth is, I've lost the thread of the practical work myself. You're not sore about it, are you?"
"No, it's quite all right."
It was, admittedly, a rare sight—the ever-taciturn Lee Jin-pyeong at a loss.
"Whew! I'm buying partly to make up for how rude I was to you last time, so eat plenty."
"Ah, that, well."
Lee Jin-pyeong bowed his head low, then spoke in a small but distinct voice.
"Thank you."
Then he glanced sideways at Kang Hyeong-seok, and his eyes gave away everything he felt. An admiration bordering on reverence. That Kim Yeong-chan's attitude had turned over so completely after only a handful of conversations looked, from where Lee Jin-pyeong sat, like sleight of hand. Like magic.
The door jingled open, and in walked a young man.
"Yeong-jun!"
Kim Yeong-chan waved him over at once. The young man kicked off his shoes and dragged a rolling suitcase to the table.
"Say hello. These are clients of the factory."
"Oh. Yeah?"
Blood really did tell. The young man wore precisely the same irritable expression Kim Yeong-chan had worn yesterday; he acknowledged them with a curt bob of the head and dropped into an empty seat.
"Honestly, Dad. Your son flies all the way home, and you want to meet at a joint like this?"
"Mind your tongue, you rascal. We've got company."
"Ugh. Yes, yes."
Watching him scrub roughly at his hands with a wet wipe, Kang Hyeong-seok felt the corner of his mouth curl without a sound.
So this is the son.
Mid-twenties? That peculiar lilt in his accent suggested he'd spent years in Australia.
"I've heard a great deal about you. Kang Hyeong-seok, Section Chief at Daejeong Mulsan."
"Ah. Right. Yeah."
Kim Yeong-chan squirmed at his son's ungracious manner, but none of that mattered.
The Mudang Bang-ul is silent, and nothing shows itself.
Was something truly hunting him? Kim Yeong-jun's surroundings were so unremarkable that Kang Hyeong-seok could almost believe the worry had been misplaced.
"Coals are in."
The owner packed the center of the table with glowing charcoal and set the grill grate on top.
"Feels good to be back in Korea, doesn't it? Eating food like this again."
"Oh, please. Australia's better. You should go abroad yourself sometime, Dad. Don't just ship me off."
"And where would I be going at my age?"
Kang Hyeong-seok had just cracked a smile at the father and son grumbling back and forth when—
A plate of raw meat clattered onto the table, and he took up the tongs and began to grill. The mood over the meal was middling at best. Part of it was Kim Yeong-jun's sullen face, and part of it was that Kang Hyeong-seok and Kim Yeong-chan were there for more than the food.
"Stepping out for a smoke."
It was just as Kim Yeong-chan, well into the meal, pushed back his chair.
"I'll come along."
Rising from his seat, Kang Hyeong-seok signaled Lee Jin-pyeong to stay put and followed him out.
A lighter clicked twice in the narrow gap between the restaurant and the building next door. There, Kim Yeong-chan lit his cigarette and met Kang Hyeong-seok's eyes with a heavy look.
"How did it look to you?"
Kang Hyeong-seok shook his head, lips pressed tight.
"Nothing. Nothing showed itself."
"Whewww—!"
A sigh of relief or a groan of frustration—the breath that came out of him could have been either. Kim Yeong-chan exhaled the indecipherable breath and lifted the cigarette to his lips, and Kang Hyeong-seok spoke.
"So let me ask you plainly. Do you know what it is that's chasing your son?"
"...Pardon?"
The smoke he'd just drawn filled Kim Yeong-chan's windpipe, and his question came back out strangled.
"Nothing appeared before my eyes. I sensed nothing outside the restaurant, either. You truly have no idea what's threatening your son?"
A death curse, perhaps, or a vengeful wraith—that had been Kang Hyeong-seok's assumption. Yet no such sign revealed itself.
"Are you saying you suspect me—"
"No. I'm asking because I want to be certain of what we're facing."
Kang Hyeong-seok deliberated, then chose his words with care.
"I have a bad feeling about this. If it's what I suspect, I'm afraid this could become an ordeal."
"...What do you—"
The stiffness drained from Kim Yeong-chan's face, and his voice shook as he asked. Kang Hyeong-seok kneaded his neck and shoulders and looked back toward the restaurant.
"Because I think this may be a god—or an evil spirit standing at a god's level."
The hatred of a god is something no human can outrun. Evil spirits are no different. Take, for instance, the creature known as the Dueoksini: a wicked thing that crushes a person's head until the breath stops—and once someone incurs the Dueoksini's grudge, nothing in existence can spare them from death. No ritual, no apology, no remorse, no act of penance—none of it will avail.
"And if it already knows I'm here—if that's why it's hiding itself and biding its time for an opening—then I don't imagine this will be easy."
Kang Hyeong-seok shifted his gaze to the insects swarming the restaurant's sign. Drawn to the light, they whirled in a restless, glittering frenzy. Then one large moth smacked into the sign with an audible thump and dropped, landing upside down on the pavement—wings and legs twitching in a way that turned the stomach.
"In any case, I'll need to see your home before I can say anything for certain."
"...Will you be all right?"
"For now, think only of your son."
Kim Yeong-chan looked like a man drowning in thought—and Kang Hyeong-seok's own mind was every bit as tangled. What on earth could the problem be? The people around it wore such gravity, yet the one thing that mattered refused to show itself.
"Let's head back in."
"Right."
Kang Hyeong-seok went in ahead of him—and stopped short at an unexpected sight. Lee Jin-pyeong and Kim Yeong-jun were chatting away pleasantly, each with a phone in hand.
"Oh, that's adorable. Adorable, even."
"He's in a better place now."
Kang Hyeong-seok slid into the seat beside them, mild surprise on his face and the practiced smile of a working professional settling onto his lips.
"What were you two talking about?"
"Ah—Chief Kang."
Lee Jin-pyeong made to tuck the phone away, faintly embarrassed, but Kim Yeong-jun spoke up around a mouthful of beef.
"Dogs."
"Dogs?"
"Yeah. Even though I'm the junior here, he's the one who didn't know that? He was showing me dog pictures."
With an awkward little motion, Lee Jin-pyeong turned the phone toward Kang Hyeong-seok as well. On the screen was a younger Lee Jin-pyeong, a white Spitz cradled against his chest.
Arf! Arf! Arf! Arf!
That Spitz was a spirit of the dead now, tucked beneath Lee Jin-pyeong's legs.
"You must have loved him dearly."
"Well... yes."
Lee Jin-pyeong managed a smile, but his eyes looked mournful.
"I'd like to see him again."
Arf! Arf! Arf! Arf! Arf!
The spirit barked louder than ever, as if begging to be noticed—and to Kang Hyeong-seok alone was it visible.
"You'll see him again someday."
"Thank you."
He really had loved that dog. Kang Hyeong-seok smiled wryly and shifted his gaze to Kim Yeong-jun.
"So how did you two land on dogs?"
"I raised one myself, back in the day, that's all."
"Ah."
"Here, look. This rascal. This little rascal."
Kim Yeong-jun pulled up a puppy photo on his phone. It had none of the warmth of Lee Jin-pyeong's picture: a young Kim Yeong-jun grinning roguishly at the camera, and squirming in his arms a puppy of no breed anyone could place, kicking furiously to get free.
"Man, I can't even remember what we called him anymore. Anyway, I guess we had that in common, 'cause we got along right away."
"It happens."
"You never kept a dog yourself?"
The question came out of nowhere; Kang Hyeong-seok shook his head, the wry smile still on his lips.
"Dogs scared me when I was little."
"Wow, you really don't look the type."
"Tell me about it."
He had never been able to love dogs. Animals carry clearer souls than humans do, and more often than not they sense the dead. There was a reason people told those stories so often—my dog barks itself hoarse at empty air; on walks she tucks her tail and bolts ahead like something's after her.
"Was there a reason you were scared of them?"
Even Lee Jin-pyeong's attention had swung his way, curiosity getting the better of him. Kang Hyeong-seok smiled thinly and reached for his glass.
"I suppose there was."
He had simply hated it—hated that they kept showing him what he never wanted to see. With his spiritual eye open, his entire adolescence had been an ordeal. He wouldn't give the dead so much as a glance, and the dogs would bark themselves vicious, yelping out the exact spot where a spirit stood. He had hated that more than anything.
"Hey, Dad."
Kim Yeong-jun laid down his chopsticks, looked at his father, and toyed with the handle of his suitcase.
"Looks like everyone's about finished. Shall we get going?"
"Ah—yes, I suppose so."
And then it happened.
Kim Yeong-chan fished his wallet from his pocket; Lee Jin-pyeong gathered his things; Kim Yeong-jun rose with the suitcase in hand—and in that same instant, Kang Hyeong-seok's eyes lunged to the door.
"What is it?"
Even as Kim Yeong-jun asked, sensing something wrong, Kang Hyeong-seok could not answer.
He had seen it. The thing Kim Yeong-chan dreaded. The thing stalking Kim Yeong-jun.
A dog...
An enormous dog, its body sloughed and melted as though it had been lowered into sulfuric acid and hauled back out, stood at the mouth of the restaurant, exuding a virulent miasma of the dead—and with eyeballs boiled a milky white, it stared and stared at Kim Yeong-jun.