11. The Underworld Market (2)
Nietzsche wrote in his book Human, All Too Human:
"A person who cannot spend more than two-thirds of their day on themselves is a slave."
That's right.
Nietzsche said it.
"Oh Sung-jin is a slave."
The reason I became a slave wasn't anything special.
Rumor had it that the upcoming new hire exam would fail to contain an anomaly.
Even if I snapped, "What the hell does that mean, you otaku?" it wouldn't matter. This was already reality, something about to happen.
Estimated casualties: 2,000. Plus facility destruction and total collapse of the HR system.
No matter how you sliced it, this was a heavy responsibility that needed a high-ranking executive in charge of the project.
And I was that project lead.
A mere staff sergeant.
...No.
Actually, I wasn't even a staff sergeant.
The board of directors had granted me a provisional rank.
This was per the enforcement rules in the appendix to Article 3 of the "Four Articles": "Roles of Members and Their Assignment." I'd learned this five days ago.
"All company members may be granted a provisional rank at the board's discretion, equivalent to half a step below their original position."
And so, I was provisionally an assistant manager.
More precisely, something like "assistant manager trainee" or "acting assistant manager."
It was ridiculous.
Who the hell attaches "trainee" or "acting" to assistant manager? Not even for executive directors, managing directors, presidents, or vice presidents.
In reality, the company still called me "staff sergeant."
It wasn't that the board's decision or my abilities were being ignored.
My colleagues just never tried calling me "assistant manager trainee" or whatever.
Plain and simple.
"So, ahem, Assistant Manager Oh Sung-jin Trainee..."
That title was too hilarious to say out loud.
"S-sorry, I shouldn't laugh... pfft...!"
That was Team Leader Ham's reaction. Section Chief Jo's was even more explosive.
"What? Assistant manager trainee? Acting assistant manager? What the hell is that?"
I explained the Four Articles.
"...Pfft. Hah!"
He burst out laughing, then every time he looked at me, he'd make choking sounds.
That day, I witnessed veins bulging on Section Chief Jo's head for the first time—and he wasn't even angry.
After that not-so-amusing ordeal, I ended up begging my team to just call me staff sergeant.
"Y-yeah... Staff Sergeant Oh."
"Sung-jin, smart choice. Assistant manager trainee is... h-ha, no. Right... pfft!"
"Pfft!"
Both Section Chief Jo and Team Leader Ham gladly accepted my plea.
They must've realized they'd catch hell if they kept using that stupid title on me.
And so, today.
No one else in the world could be the staff sergeant in charge of a secret project but me—but anyway, after finishing every damn thing a secret project staff sergeant should do, I realized a week had flown by like an arrow, or a gale if you prefer.
But Oh Sung-jin's tale of slave-like cruelty didn't end there.
Saturday.
The start of the weekend, the dreamy holiday every office worker fantasizes about since Friday evening.
That day, I left home at dawn for overtime.
The reason was absurd.
A message from a used goods deal.
On a boulevard taxi stand some distance from home.
3:30 AM. No sign of dawn, just gloomy clouds like my future blanketing the sky.
I sighed at the utterly ruthless fate before me, watching my breath fog in the air.
...Cold.
I shoved my hands in my pockets.
Unfortunately, the pants lining—sodden from yesterday's rain and today's unprecedented autumn chill—offered no protection against the heavy damp cold.
How long did I shiver like that?
A taxi arrived, green "Reserved" light on the windshield.
No one around, but I double-checked the call.
I was heading to a shady deal. Couldn't end up in the wrong place.
Had to eliminate even the slightest chance it wasn't my cab.
44sa 4444.
...Weird plate. But it matched the app.
Click. The locked door unlocked. I picked up my unease and climbed in.
...Smells strong in here.
A diffuser plugged into the AC. Couldn't see the driver's face.
The cabbie said nothing, just drove into the road's center.
I wasn't the social type either, so silence filled the cab.
A relief, really. Too exhausted that morning to chat with a chatty driver.
That very moment.
Click. Something fell from the driver's seat into the back.
Before I could check what.
"Sir, could you pick that up for me?"
"...Pardon? Sure."
The "thing" was deep under the seat.
Bending over, fingertips just brushed it.
Can't quite reach...
I bent further, shoving my arm in...
Got it!
But it's warm and soft...
That thought hit when.
"Hee, heehee, heehehe. That tickles."
The driver's voice came.
Not from above the seat.
From below.
...
I slowly pulled out the object in my hand.
Warm, indeed. Squirming.
"Hee, hee. S-sorry. Heeheehee, heehehe."
Laughing.
"Ah, now I can see a bit better."
Alive.
It was a face. The face grinned. The driver reached back.
"Hand that over."
Ah.
No.
Really.
I calmly handed the face to the driver, careful not to show I'd realized what it was.
That's when his face reflected in the mirror.
His head had a donut hole.
The instant I flinched, he snatched the face from my hand.
"Ah, thank you."
Click. He slotted the face into the empty spot on his head. Then started grinning ear to ear.
"Most folks can't grab it right away, but you've got nimble hands, sir."
Chills...
I'd expected something weird buying from a backworld used goods market.
But not encountering an anomaly this soon!
"S-sir? You okay? You look pale."
The driver asked just as nausea started churning.
He was still grinning. Those laughing eyes in the mirror eyed me suspiciously.
"Curious about this, maybe?"
Click.
He pulled off his face. Click. The back door locked.
The driver muttered in a sinister tone.
"Cool, right? Lately, I've been collecting these. Your handsome face too... like this..."
I held my breath.
And yelled.
"No, seriously, where's your brain? Dropping crap like that carelessly?"
"..."
"Eyes front! Red light! Aren't you supposed to watch the road? Drive safe! Or I'll file a complaint! For real, this is ridiculous..."
The driver shut up. He murmured like a whisper.
"...Karen."
The cab's signature reckless dawn driving—definitely retaliation for my response—finally ended.
"We're here."
I held out my card. He processed payment quickly and silently unlocked the door.
As I got out, he sped off in a burst of exhaust.
Sudden acceleration.
Probably more payback. But that wasn't my concern.
...These days, even ghost stories take cards.
What a mad world.
Maybe already out there, with all the shady shit happening on the world's hidden side that normals don't know about.
Anyway...
I scanned the surroundings. It was just like any Seoul nightlife street.
Except one thing: all signs were pictures.
The only place with letters was the road sign.
JAEMANGMAE-RO 1
Obviously not a real Seoul place name.
Even if it existed, not for a street like this. More like some cultural heritage spot in Gyeongju.
This is seriously weird.
I pulled out my phone, checking the memoed message again.
...
So that's what it meant. Should've said so earlier. I wouldn't have come.
"Haa..."
Checked the time. Five minutes to 4:44. I leaned against the signpost pole, eyeing the street.
A creaking started right then.
Not wind. Not noise from the street packed with "people."
A shadow fell.
Right over me. Given the position, the shadow's owner was directly above.
I looked up.
Something with a noose around its neck glared down.
Bloody tears streaming, grinning.
People here are so friendly. From the cabbie, they all love smiling.
No they're not!
I subtly lowered my head.
Didn't see anything. I saw nothing.
My efforts were in vain; the shadow crept closer. Wind brushed my cheek.
Breath. Rough breathing. Sniffing.
Blood dripped in drops.
Anomaly.
No, a ghost.
Or both?
Mid-thought.
Its neck was elongated. That long neck coiled around my body once.
Face right in front.
"Hee—."
It stuck out its tongue, grinning at me. Blood flowed. It opened its mouth.
"You see?"
It laughed.
"Hee, hee, hee. See? Hee, hee, hee, hee, hee. You see? You saw? You did! Hee, hee, hee. You can see!"
Don't panic. Stay calm.
Today's been weird as hell. Actually, since last week, weird days have piled up in my life.
This is nothing. Even if freaking out inside, at least act normal on the outside...
"Answer—!"
But.
I.
Squinted.
My eyes.
And said nothing.
The ghost laughed. Mouth gaped wide. Snake's maw. Like it could swallow prey whole.
"You're here?"
A dry voice, perfectly suiting "enlightened."
The ghost's gaping mouth closed. It slithered off me, back to hanging from the signpost.
"Hwangcheon Market?"
The voice again. I turned. A suspicious figure wrapped head to toe in baggy clothes stood there.
"Yes?"
I answered reflexively in confusion.
"Follow me."
Taken as agreement. He trudged away.
Checked my phone.
Time was now 4:44.