Miracle Hand
With every last pink spot gone, Lee Mikyeong’s breathing gradually quieted as she exhaled her heated breaths. Softening into a gentle rhythm, she seemed to grow drowsy and actually drifted off into a light, peaceful sleep.
“Looks like the fever’s come down for now… What do we do? Should we wake her?”
“No… I think it’s better to let her sleep for a while.”
The moment I spoke, Choi Wonjae laid a hand on my shoulder and casually steered me out of the VIP room. Once we were in the hallway he glanced both ways, confirmed the neighboring room was empty, and led me inside with him.
He let out a long, heavy sigh, then turned to me.
“What the hell just happened to Ms. Mikyeong?”
I had two options. One was to tell him everything exactly as it was—to explain the metaphysical things only my eyes could see, and to admit I knew precisely what role each colored spot played. But could I really trust Choi Wonjae? I’d known the man less than a week. This was a secret I hadn’t even told Jin Ayoung, the woman whose life I’d saved with my own hands. Spilling it to him made even less sense.
In the end I made a snap decision and went with the second option.
“As I mentioned earlier, it’s a reaction that happens when blocked meridians are opened.”
“…No, look, Junhyun. What are you? Did you step straight out of some martial-arts novel? Is this some kind of ‘way of the rivers and lakes’ thing? I still can’t figure out how you read a person’s meridians that well. And you said you only just learned massage.”
What could I possibly say that would convince him? No—better not to try. I myself had no idea how this ability had awakened. How was I supposed to persuade anyone else? One day I was watching porn and suddenly started seeing multicolored spots all over women’s bodies? Completely ridiculous.
I forced a smile.
“It’s a feel. Just a feel.”
“Ha… Fine. If you say it’s a feel. When I first started massaging I thought I had some natural gift myself… But this is on a whole different level. You’re the most outlandish person I’ve ever met.”
“…Is that so.”
“You’re calling that a proper answer?”
Choi Wonjae clamped both hands on my shoulders.
“This is once-in-a-generation talent. A gem you won’t find anywhere else. Yeah—maybe even a Miracle Hand. You might just be a Miracle Hand.”
Choi Wonjae had used the words too. Lee Yeondo had said them, and now so had he. Two people a generation apart spitting out the same phrase—it had to be a pretty famous keyword in this industry.
“I’ve heard of the Miracle Hand. They call it the hand that saves lives.”
“That’s right.”
“Does someone like that actually exist?”
“He does. But he retired. These days he’s living quietly out in the countryside—like some kind of hermit sage.”
“Hmm…”
“Why, interested?”
“Of course I am.”
What if that person had the same ability as me? I could get all kinds of advice. Even if he didn’t, anyone would be curious about someone with superhuman power like that, wouldn’t they?
“Problem is finding him. Some people say he went off into some mountain valley. Others claim he built a house halfway up a mountain. A few even say he’s already dead. The man’s practically a legend. Among the people still well-known to the public, there’s a guy named Shin Yongseop.”
“Shin Yongseop? The one who used to go on variety shows and massage celebrities?”
“Yeah, that’s him. You know your stuff.”
“I always figured it was just staged with the celebrities. That was real?”
“The truth? I don’t know, and nobody does. But he still pops up on terrestrial TV now and then. Even that reporter who came to interview me asked what I thought of Shin Yongseop.”
“…So what did you tell him?”
“Just gave him my honest opinion. Said I’d never met the guy so I couldn’t really say, but if his skills weren’t solid he wouldn’t still be talked about this much.”
Shin Yongseop. Back when I was twenty, in that awkward gap before enlistment, I’d binge-watched every variety show that featured celebrities. One of them was a competition where all sorts of eccentric talents showed up, and Shin Yongseop had been a panelist massaging the celebrity guests. They’d shown a short clip of a celebrity who’d just been diagnosed with a herniated disc, then Shin Yongseop cracked the guy’s back with a series of loud pops until the pain vanished completely.
Until then most people had never even heard of chiropractic treatment. That broadcast changed everything.
I used to half-joke, half-seriously say I’d go get chiropractic whenever something ached. Then I found out the prices were insane and booking an appointment was a nightmare.
I’d already been curious enough to want to try it once. Looking him up now wouldn’t be a bad idea. If the chance ever came, I should seek Shin Yongseop out.
Choi Wonjae steered the conversation back to Lee Mikyeong.
“Ms. Mikyeong seemed pretty satisfied.”
I shook my head.
“It’s not finished yet.”
“What? Not finished?”
“Yes. There’s still a little more I need to do.”
“Whew. Really? Then how about this. You know we lock VIP contracts in with a fixed fee, right? Instead of just switching her designated therapist to you, sweet-talk her into renewing the whole contract. Tell her the four-hand massage works great but the scheduling’s a pain so she can’t get it often, and that changing her designation to you is the only way to get consistent care.”
Originally Choi Wonjae had been her therapist, but the director couldn’t keep handling every VIP forever. VIP clients kept multiplying, so it was smarter for him to stay on the bench as a relief pitcher who could jump in anytime. That was why he wanted to hand his VIP over to me.
It wasn’t a bad offer for me either. No matter how many designated clients you had, there was a world of difference between rich VIPs and regular customers. I’d been watching for a few days—even the busiest therapists whose schedules were packed solid with regulars barely scraped past three million won a month.
I’d run the numbers alone at home. Fill every slot with VIPs and your paycheck climbed exponentially. Commissions, tips, designation fees—all of them were on a completely different scale.
I accepted Choi Wonjae’s proposal on the spot.
“Great. Then I’ll slip out around here. You go back in, finish the massage properly, and come out.”
“Yes, sir. Got it.”
I answered and left the empty room with him. Choi Wonjae walked toward the far end of the hallway and called a quiet “Fighting!” over his shoulder. I nodded, then stepped back into the VIP room where Lee Mikyeong still lay.
She was still snoring softly in her sleep.
I moved to the head of the bed, gently cupped the nape of her neck, and began to knead.
“Mmm~”
Like a refreshing morning! Lee Mikyeong opened her eyes with the blissful expression of someone who’d just enjoyed a solid eight hours of deep sleep. The moment her gaze locked with mine she realized what state she was in and her face flushed red.
“D-did I fall asleep?”
“Yes. You dozed off for a bit.”
“Haa… I don’t even remember what happened. I just felt so good I must’ve blacked out…”
Didn’t remember, my ass. The earlier events must have suddenly flashed through her mind—her pupils dilated and a full-body shiver ran through her. Pleasure lingered in her head like the aftertaste of a delicious meal the brain still remembered, a thick residue left behind after the filter had done its work.
Lee Mikyeong twisted her thighs together.
“W-what time is it? Is the massage over? Where’s the director?”
“The director finished the four-hand and stepped out. I’ve still got a little left to do for you. We’ve got some time remaining too. Just about ten more minutes should do it.”
“Ah, okay.”
The second my hands touched them, every single one of them turned into a sweet, obedient little lamb. Watching their bodies melt and bloom every time I killed another red spot put me in an excellent mood.
And more than anything, what leapt straight into my vision was the Purple Spot that had appeared on the nape of her neck.
“Ms. Mikyeong.”
“Yes?”
“You’ve been worrying a lot about neck wrinkles, haven’t you?”
She looked startled, as if I’d hit a nerve.
“How did you know that?”
“I have my ways. I’m pretty good at mind-reading.”
“Pfft. Mind-reading? That’s cute.”
“I’m about to show you a little magic that erases neck wrinkles.”
I placed my hand over the purple spot and rubbed gently—neither too hard nor too soft, the same pressure Lee Yeondo had once used on my own purple spot.
Right before my eyes the sagging skin around her neck began to tighten, pulled taut by the underlying muscle. A soft sheen rose across the surface, a healthy luster blooming.
“I did realign your pelvis, but you’ll need a few days before you really feel the full effect. Neck wrinkles, though—those I can fix right now, so I’m taking care of them immediately.”
“Wow… So even this is possible.”
“Would you like to stand up? I loosened everything around your pelvis earlier, so your stride should feel lighter than before.”
Lee Mikyeong rose in her half-undressed state and walked beside the bed. Then she spoke in open admiration.
“Wow, it’s real? Before it always felt like something was creaking, but now my feet just glide forward so smoothly.”
“And would you mind checking the mirror as well?”
She looked at the mirror on the wall and gasped.
“Oh my god… It’s real… It’s actually real? All the wrinkles on my neck are gone… Does this even make sense? Did you put something on me while I was asleep?”
I only shrugged in answer.
Forgetting she was wearing nothing but underwear, Lee Mikyeong turned this way and that in front of the mirror, completely intoxicated by her transformed reflection.
She really was beautiful for a married woman. Long, straight legs, a cinched waist, carefully maintained skin. And on top of that, my massage had erased the wrinkles around her face and neck as if she’d just gotten Botox, plumping the skin until it looked full and firm—the finishing touch that completed the masterpiece. Even I would have gotten lost in self-admiration in front of that mirror.
“Can I try standing in heels?”
“Mm. One moment. I’ll borrow a pair from the front desk.”
I dashed out and went straight to Shin Iseol.
“Manager. Sorry, but could you take off the heels you’re wearing for a second?”
“…Am I dreaming right now?”
“I’m seriously in a hurry. Just take the heels off.”
When I got insistent, Shin Iseol reluctantly slipped out of the pair she was wearing and handed them over. I snatched them up and hurried back to the VIP room.
“Here you go.”
“Oh.”
Looking like she’d never expected me to actually bring them, she took the heels and slipped them on while still half-naked. Her natural figure made the high heels transform her presence the instant they were on. She stuck her hips out, struck a pose, and asked,
“How do I look?”
“I’m not even joking—I’d believe you if you said you were in your thirties.”
Thirty-nine-point-nine, maybe?
“Really? That’s amazing. If I can just keep it like this, I won’t ask for anything else.”
“Ms. Mikyeong.”
“Yes?”
“How about letting me handle your care from now on?”
“Huh… Is that even allowed? What about the director…”
“The director already gave his permission. He must think you and I have good chemistry.”
“That’s true enough… In one hour you fixed my pelvis and made my skin bounce back—what more could I ask for? You’re basically my perfect soulmate.”
Everything was falling into place. At this rate the contract renewal was locked in. If I landed Lee Mikyeong on top of Park Yuyoung, the commission alone…
When Park Yuyoung renewed her new contract she’d put down a cool four million won. My cut of that was twenty percent. On top of it, every single session brought another fifty thousand or so in tips and care fees. Regular clients never paid those extras, but VIPs came with a tip culture that padded the paycheck even further.
“We’ll need to renew the contract, right? How much extra should I put down? What do you think?”
Still wearing the heels, she sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs. The relaxed poise of a woman with years of experience radiated from her.
I hesitated for a moment. How high could I go? Should I just throw out a number and see? I knew she had money, but how much she was willing to spend was a completely different question.
“How much are you comfortable spending?”
The moment I asked, Lee Mikyeong put on a provocative expression. She parted her red lips as if tempting me, shifted her weight back onto her arms, and let her firm, toned stomach show clearly.
“About… twenty million?”
From that instant my heart began pounding like mad.