Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Ep 1. Wise Unemployed Life
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Namhae Island.
The fifth-largest island in Korea. Though it's an island, everything's connected by land, so it doesn't really feel like one. It's one of the top tourist spots in Namhae.
To me, who grew up under Grandmother's care as a kid, it felt less like a tourist destination and more like a rural home—or Grandmother's house.
"Ugh, dust everywhere."
Standing in front of Grandmother's house on Namhae Island, I let out a soft sigh. No one had visited since she passed, so it had been left abandoned, covered in thick layers of dust.
Leaving that noisy apartment—right as my lease was ending anyway—to save on rent and stay at Grandmother's house had seemed like a great idea.
But I hadn't realized it was in such bad shape.
"Gonna need a full deep clean for this place."
No wonder Mom had asked if I could really live here.
I stared at the house, not even knowing where to start. Finally, I set down the luggage and bags I'd brought from the city.
Then I took a look around Grandmother's house.
It was like those old rural homes you see in dramas: tiled roof, wooden beams for pillars, a porch under the eaves, and a large wooden platform outside.
Three rooms total.
No living room, but a fairly spacious kitchen instead. There was also a rundown detached shed. True to its age of over fifty years, signs of time showed everywhere.
"Ah, this bathroom."
As I wandered around, I spotted a modern bathroom that didn't fit the house at all. It was the one Grandmother had replaced because my sibling and I hated the old scary, dirty one and threw tantrums whenever we visited.
Like the rest of the house, it was dusty from disuse and in poor condition. But with a good cleaning, it seemed usable as is.
The problem was everything else needed a complete overhaul.
"Whew."
Frustrated about where to even begin, I grabbed a trash bag and broom and started cleaning.
First, the largest room, which I'd use as my bedroom.
At least my parents had cleared out all of Grandmother's things after she passed, so there wasn't much to throw away.
Furniture like the wardrobe could be salvaged with a wipe-down. Replacing wallpaper and flooring right away felt excessive, so I'd patch the urgent spots and handle the rest later.
I flung open the windows and doors, swept away the dust with the broom, then mopped up what remained. A house abandoned for four years wouldn't clean up in one go.
It took all day of sweeping and scrubbing to make it barely presentable.
"Whew."
Just one room, and I was drenched in sweat. I wiped the streaming perspiration with the towel I'd brought, then headed to the bathroom. I wanted a shower, but it was too filthy for that yet.
So, clean the bathroom first.
"Water comes out fine."
Mom had said she'd handled water, electricity, and gas. Sure enough, water and power worked great. Though the only appliance I could use right now was the washing machine.
"Lots of stuff to buy."
Summer was coming, so I needed a fan, maybe AC. A vacuum too. And basic necessities. Mulling that over, I started on the bathroom.
I sprayed mold remover from the mart on the floor and walls, then scrubbed everything—floor, walls, toilet, even ceiling—with the brush I'd bought.
While the mold loosened, I wiped the dust off the foggy mirror, then cleaned it sparkling with glass cleaner.
"Ooh."
Two hours of hard work, a rinse, and the bathroom gleamed like new. So clean it almost hurt my eyes, pristine enough to feel wasteful using it.
Click.
Proud of my work, I snapped a photo, unpacked my shampoo, conditioner, and body wash into the cabinet, and took a cool shower.
Ah, feels like I'm alive.
After sweating buckets cleaning, the shower left me refreshed. I roughly dried my hair with the blow dryer, toweled off the rest, and stepped out. A salty sea breeze greeted me.
Looking toward the fence through the open rusty gate.
A road was right in front, blocking the sea view. Still, it felt open and freeing. Coming from that stuffy semi-basement, my chest felt light.
"...Still a lot left to clean."
But no more nightly upstairs noise tormenting me. No constant motorcycle roars day or night. A very satisfying first day.
Morning.
"Urgh."
I groaned at the brilliant sunlight streaming through the window. Damn. Thought I'd sleep soundly without noise for once, but sunlight was the ambush.
"Blackout curtains first thing."
I'd brought the ones from my old place, so install those today. Then receive the fridge delivery in the afternoon, clean the kitchen...
With my parched throat, I muttered my to-do list while gulping lukewarm water from the bottle in the corner. Not ideal for someone who drinks iced Americano even in winter.
But no choice.
I drained the bottle in seconds, rinsed lightly in the now-clean bathroom, and was about to clean more when my stomach growled loudly.
"...Hungry."
Come to think of it, I hadn't eaten dinner yesterday, just cleaned nonstop.
No wonder.
Hmm, what to do.
Delivery sounded great, but this area had almost none. And what was available didn't appeal.
Cooking? The kitchen was a disaster.
Food from there would give me food poisoning for sure. Best bet was heading to town for a meal, but my scooter's transport hadn't arrived yet.
And walking to town was too far.
So.
"No helping it."
Grab something at the convenience store fifteen minutes away on foot. I was sick of their food, but today it was unavoidable.
I pulled earphones from my bag, plugged them in, grabbed my phone, played my favorite song, and headed out.
Stepping onto the road right in front of the house, the sea came into view after a short walk.
Not peak summer or vacation season yet, so no people. But the endless ocean under a clear sky soothed my mind.
Lost in the scenery, I arrived at the store before I knew it.
Bigger than expected, selling fireworks and vacation gear. I grabbed cup ramen and lunchbox for dinner, sandwich and drink for now.
A simple one with ham, cheese, and egg salad.
I unwrapped it, took a bite heading to the beach. First day by the sea—gotta eat with it as backdrop.
Empty sandy beach nearby.
I plopped down, took a big bite of the ordinary convenience store sandwich.
Salty cool breeze, crashing waves as BGM—it tasted surprisingly good. Like, was this sandwich always this tasty?
"Nice."
When was the last time I ate so leisurely? Couldn't remember. Long-overdue free meal time.
And maybe because of that?
Ideas flooded my mind.
Songs first, then drawings, photos.
Ideas that never came in the stuffy company studio, popping up effortlessly. I smirked at my itching hands and stood.
"Yep, it's a sickness alright."
Artistic affliction, maybe?
"Whew."
I wiped sweat, surveying the house.
Clean as if the dust had never been there. Not perfect—shed still untouched, for example—but a total transformation.
I grinned proudly at the unrecognizable home.
"Alright, final task."
Would love dinner and rest, but one more job. I grabbed the paint I'd brought, approached the rusty, peeling iron gate.
Repainted it fresh, then started drawing on the fence hiding the house. If it were someone else's, unthinkable—but no plans to sell, and parents gave full permission.
Earphones in, favorite song on. Paint and lacquer out, I painted the fence.
White clouds, black sky.
And a massive whale shark soaring through it.
I nodded at the fence-filling mural. Just the outline, amateurish in spots since I'm no pro painter.
But I loved it.
"Whew, refreshing."
Perfect timing—a pleasant breeze.
Salty sea air, I smiled happily, picked up the small camera in the corner.
Just day one, but incredibly satisfying. Looking forward to more.