A Blood-Lacquered Dream
Squeak, squeak-squeak.
It was early morning in the conference room. Having finished writing numbers and names across the whiteboard, Kwak Young-ho turned to face the room with a satisfied look on his face. Seated before him was the entirety of Sales Team 1, Kang Hyeong-seok included.
Tap! Rapping a knuckle against the board, Kwak tossed a question at Namgoong Min-ah.
"So, Min-ah — what do you think?"
"Uh..."
As the most junior member of the team, Namgoong Min-ah glanced around at her seniors' faces before venturing an answer. "It's... good? Isn't it?"
"That's right!" A pleased smile spread across Kwak's lips. "This is our team's performance for the quarter. As you can see, we're well ahead of the other teams."
Sales Teams 2 and 3. Team 3 handled somewhat different work, so it could be written off as an exception — but Team 2 was their direct competition.
"Whoa, really?"
"You bet! Everyone worked hard, so let's have a round of applause!"
Clap-clap-clap-clap-clap! The applause, begun by Kwak himself, spread in an instant and rang through the conference room.
"Ahh, this is a first. A first. Working without performance pressure breathing down our necks like this."
He looked genuinely moved, his face going thick with emotion. Kwak rubbed at the corners of his eyes with a finger, then gazed over his team members one by one as though each were precious to him.
"Min-ah, you've only been a regular employee a short while, but you've been wonderfully diligent. You've delivered results too. Really well done."
"Ehehe, thank you!" Namgoong Min-ah smiled bashfully, and Kwak's gaze shifted to Lee Jin-pyeong.
"Assistant Manager Lee — your leg gives you enough trouble as it is, and you've been through so much. No results yet, but that's only because you can't go out on sales calls, so don't let it weigh on you. I'll look out for you personally down the line, so don't worry."
"Yes."
Even with Lee Jin-pyeong's usual blunt reply, Kwak was all smiles. "And Manager Kang."
"Yes."
Kang Hyeong-seok straightened in his seat as he answered, and Kwak's smile deepened further. "You were a huge part of this quarter's numbers. Can't believe it took me this long to recognize an ace like you. I'm thankful to have you on my team."
"It was nothing."
"The accounts you've landed so far do skew toward the purchasing side, so next quarter let's just keep that in mind. Alright?"
Now that he was a manager, he could feel the weight of added responsibility settling onto his shoulders. Kang Hyeong-seok resolved to scout out the sales side next, and Kwak's gaze moved on to Shin Jeong-ah.
"Manager Shin, our veteran."
"Eww, gross, sir."
"Hahahaha!"
Even with Shin Jeong-ah recoiling in distaste, Kwak laughed heartily. "You haven't been with the company long, but you've settled in beautifully. Your results have exceeded my expectations. And the contracts you pulled in on the sales side balanced Manager Kang out perfectly."
Kwak Young-ho truly had a gift for speaking from the heart. Which was why a sheepish smile found its way onto Shin Jeong-ah's face as well.
"Now then, last thing." Kwak swept a warm gaze across his team. "It's not really a department head's place to say this, but let's treat this quarter as effectively wrapped up and take it easy, everyone."
At that, Namgoong Min-ah raised her hand. "Why? Isn't it better if we keep working hard?"
Kang Hyeong-seok's eyes met Shin Jeong-ah's for an instant. Then, without a word, both shook their heads, and Kwak began an explanation that even a newcomer like Namgoong Min-ah could follow.
"Results that are too good aren't good either."
"Huh? Why not?"
"Because when expectations climb too high, everything you did well comes right back as pressure."
Sales more than anywhere. Why is this quarter worse than the last one? That question would inevitably come down from above, and the hard work of your past would end up strangling your present self. A genuinely filthy experience. So knowing where to draw the line — cutting things off at a sensible point — mattered, if anything did.
"Then what are we supposed to do now...?"
"Focus on maintaining what we have rather than chasing new accounts. You'll learn this eventually, but corporate life is a marathon. There have to be stretches like this along the way."
"Oh."
Namgoong Min-ah's eyes went round and bright as the memory of her intern days' workload surfaced. Perhaps it called her school days to mind — that easy, spacious stretch between the college entrance exam and graduation. A time when, so long as you did only the bare minimum, nobody bothered you at all.
"Thank you, sir!"
Even as he said it, Kwak stole a glance at Kang Hyeong-seok. It was, after all, Kang who had produced the single heaviest results.
"In that spirit — if anyone has a request, speak up now. Annual leave, a team dinner, anything goes."
Kwak really did seem bent on letting everyone off the leash properly. So Kang Hyeong-seok raised his hand, entirely at ease.
"Oh, Manager Kang. What is it?"
"I'd like to take a day of annual leave."
"When? Tomorrow?"
"No. This Friday."
"Then take it through next Monday off."
Hold on. This felt like far too much — but before Kang could even get a word out, Kwak had already made his move. "I'll file Monday as a business trip, so if you've got things to take care of, see to them at your leisure."
"Th-that's still..."
"What? It's your own leave — who's going to say a word? I'll process it under my authority as department head, so don't even glance over your shoulder."
Kang Hyeong-seok closed his mouth, looking embarrassed and grateful all at once; Namgoong Min-ah shot him an envious look; and Lee Jin-pyeong's face gave nothing away.
"So where are you headed, somewhere nice? A trip abroad?"
"No, sir. I'm thinking of stopping by to visit the person who first introduced me to Samgol."
"Then it might as well go down as a business trip too. Go and come back with an easy mind."
It was a decision bold enough that anyone watching might have cursed him for favoritism. But then, this wasn't a privilege just anyone could claim. So Kang Hyeong-seok offered a grateful look in place of words.
"Um, sir?"
"Hm? Manager Shin."
"I'll be taking Friday off as well."
"You too, Manager Shin?"
For a moment, as if seized by a strange thought, Kwak's eyes slid toward Kang Hyeong-seok. Taking leave on the very same day did strike him as odd. But Shin Jeong-ah went on in a calm, matter-of-fact voice. "It's my mother's birthday. I ought to go see her."
"Ah, that's what it is?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"Nothing, nothing. If it's your mother's birthday, of course you go. That's only right." Kwak nodded, looking entirely convinced.
And so the day's meeting came to an end on that note — which was why Kang Hyeong-seok never saw Shin Jeong-ah's text coming, the moment work let out.
Bzzt!
He had been about to bring up the navigation for the drive home when he saw the message, and his brow creased.
A text brimming with worry. Scratching his brow once, Kang Hyeong-seok picked the phone up out of its dashboard mount and typed out a reply.
Tap-tap-tap, tap.
Bzzzzt! The call came through at once; Kang hit the answer button and set the phone back into its mount.
"Manager Kang, what's going on?" Shin Jeong-ah's voice came through the speaker.
"You sounded worried, so I thought I'd put your mind at ease."
"It's not that something's happened, right?"
Punching his home address into the navigation, Kang answered as he pulled out of the parking lot. "No — nothing like that. Though you didn't take the day off on my account, did you?"
"Just in case. Every time you take leave, something ends up happening. You know that."
Kang blinked, sinking into thought. She wasn't wrong, exactly. Back during the Damgeumju case, he had taken leave and ended up resolving the whole affair alongside Shin Jeong-ah.
"You don't need to worry. I was only planning to stop by briefly for a consultation."
"The person who introduced you to Samgol — she's a shaman, isn't she? That's what the Department Head was saying, anyway."
He had mentioned to Kwak Young-ho at some point that it was a place Lee Geum-kyeong had introduced him to. "That's true. But this time it's purely for a consultation."
"There's nothing bad going on, though... right?"
Kang nodded as he answered. "No, nothing like that. There's just something on my mind, that's all."
It came down, in the end, to the Sinjangkal — the Divine General Blade. The one Shin Yo-sep had given him had reached the end of its life. These days, nothing stirred when he swung it; nothing answered at all. And yet he couldn't shake the question of whether simply buying a new one was the right move.
"I had a dream recently," he said. "My Momjusin appeared to me."
Vrrrooom. Merging onto the road, he picked up speed as the figure from his dream rose behind his eyes. "He was clad in armor lacquered with blood — and he held the Sinjangkal out to me. I think I ought to have a consultation with my teacher."
"Ah..."
The Momjusin, and the Sinjangkal. That was the territory of Korean shamanism — of the mudang. Not the sort of affair Shin Jeong-ah had any business wading into.
"It's a consultation, plain and simple. There's really nothing for you to worry about."
"Then why did you take a day off?"
She clung to the question with a persistence that bordered on stubborn, and his words jammed in his throat.
"Manager Kang?"
Even with her pressing for an answer, none came at once. Perhaps because he knew. Because on some unconscious level, he suspected he might have to spend this whole weekend in constant motion — that, at the very least, he might end up trailing after Lee Geum-kyeong, going from shop to shop that dealt in shamanic implements.
"I may just... need to pound the pavement a little."
"If it turns out you're moving alone, you tell me. Got it?"
"You should be resting too, Manager Shin."
"Manager Kang! Are you going to keep brushing me off like this? That stings, you know."
"I'm sorry?"
His eyebrows climbed, and Shin Jeong-ah carried on. "You remember helping my friend recently? And before that, you helped me when I moved."
"Yes. I remember."
Memories not easily forgotten — of Shin Jeong-ah suffering over her house twice in a row. As Kang Hyeong-seok smacked his lips, his face a tangle of feelings, she fired off her next words like a shot.
"I'm not the sort of person who forgets things like this. I've seen you far more than once or twice — I know how it goes by now."
"...Understood."
"Then if you do end up going somewhere — if it ever feels like you need my help — you say so right away. Got it?"
"Yes. I will."
He said it with a wry smile, and Shin Jeong-ah added one last thing — that he had better keep that promise. Then the call ended.
In the quiet that settled over the car, Kang Hyeong-seok drew a long breath through his nose.
Tap-tap-tap-tap. A hand crowded with thoughts drummed restlessly against the steering wheel. The Sinjangkal...
The cult Shin Yo-sep had spoken of. The demon he was hunting. And Hong Gyeong-soo — the shaman whose intentions remained impossible to read. By any measure, the road ahead looked far from easy.
Rustle. Kang brushed a hand against the bag holding his Mudang Bang-ul, his sacred bells, then returned his gaze to the road ahead. It wasn't that he doubted the bells he had grown so attached to. But it felt as though he had reached the point where he needed something beyond them.
If I talk it over with my teacher, some answer is bound to come. Thinking of Lee Geum-kyeong, whom he would meet on Friday, Kang Hyeong-seok drove toward home.
And time slipped swiftly by — until, at last, Friday arrived.