Mudoo - Chapter 22

Kang Tae-shin ignored Seula’s comment like it wasn’t even worth responding to and casually walked away. When he slid open the door next to the bed’s headboard, it revealed a connected walk-in closet.

“I’m going to change clothes. Want to watch?”

Seula quickly threw off the blanket and rushed toward the door.

“I already changed you once, so we’re even.”

“Nope. That definitely doesn’t count.”

She cut him off quickly and left the room.

***

Seula sat down in front of the fireplace and stared at the designer bag Tae-shin bought her yesterday.

“Are you… holding some kind of ritual?”

Tae-shin placed a mug down next to Seula, then settled into a single-seater sofa with his own cup. Steam was rising from the cocoa.

Drawn in by the sweet aroma, Seula took a sip and wrapped her hands around the warm mug.

“It feels weird to be receiving something this expensive… like it’s too much for someone like me.”

“Just now realizing that?”

Seula gave him a sharp look. Tae-shin smirked, the cold edges of his usual expression softening with a hint of playfulness.

“Relax, it’s a joke.”

“Your jokes aren’t funny.”

“So what made you suddenly think of that?”

“I don’t have anywhere to carry a designer bag, no job to go to, no one to show it off to…”

Tae-shin scratched his chin thoughtfully and started ticking things off on his fingers.

“Then make somewhere to go. You’ll have a job eventually. And show it off to Dong-gil—he loves designer stuff.”

Seula glanced out the window toward the yard, where Dong-gil had been strutting around all morning in his new luxury padded jacket like he owned the place.

“Where should we go today? As long as you’re not scared of ghosts, we can go anywhere.”

It was strange how his words gave her comfort—and even courage. The doubts she’d had while staring at the bag melted away, replaced by excitement.

“I want to go to Sokcho. I’ve never seen the winter sea before. I also want to try squid sundae and mulhoe. I heard there’s a really famous place.”

Tae-shin leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and smiled, nodding.

“Alright. Let’s go. Anywhere else?”

“I want to visit Jeju, too. Everyone’s been except me… but with Dong-gil, flying might be tricky.”

“Pets can fly nowadays. If not, we’ll take the ferry—or tell him to find his own way there.”

“Well, Dong-gil is good at finding places.”

“Exactly. In some ways, better than you.”

It wasn’t the most flattering comment, but since the atmosphere was warm and cheerful, Seula let it slide.

Dong-gil came trotting in from the yard, his paws making soft tapping sounds on the floor.

“Tae-shin! Tae-shin! The Reaper contacted us, the Reaper contacted us!”

Tae-shin’s relaxed face instantly stiffened. He looked like someone who just got called in to work on their day off.

He groaned as he stood up and walked toward the hallway.

There was an old, dusty rotary phone sitting in the hallway leading from the main room to the guest quarters. Seula had assumed it was decorative, but apparently, it served a real purpose.

Tae-shin picked up the receiver and listened silently for a long time. His expression was so serious that Seula wondered if it was bad news.

Then he spoke—with unsettling sincerity.

“How much are you paying?”

It was the moment the illusion shattered. Any pride, honor, or dignity she thought he had in his job disappeared in that one sentence.

So Tae-shin was human, too. Ironically, that’s when Seula saw a more human side of him.

After he hung up, Seula approached and asked,

“How much?”

Dong-gil, who had been watching the two of them, gave a dramatic shake of his body and muttered into the air.

“Money-chasers. Just a bunch of money-chasers.”

***

Tae-shin and Seula arrived at Munseong Girls’ High School just after midnight. She thought the gates would be locked by that hour, but they were wide open, and the guard station was empty.

Tae-shin parked in the schoolyard and stepped out of the driver’s seat.

“Emergency jobs pay double.”

“Nice. That’s a win.”

Seula’s eyes sparkled. Her dream of owning a home was slowly inching closer.

She hurried after Tae-shin’s long strides.

“Don’t leave me behind today.”

“You’re not even scared of ghosts anymore.”

“I’m scared—I’m just pretending not to be.”

“That’s how it always starts. You’ll get used to it soon.”

“I’ve heard that ‘you’ll get used to it soon’ line like a hundred times already.”

They headed for the annex next to the main building.

The previous job at Hoseong Station’s knowledge center didn’t feel that scary—it was in the middle of Seoul with lots of people around. But standing at a school at this hour… all those creepy school legends started to come back. Even the building itself looked eerie.

“Why are schools so scary at night?”

Seula never really thought there was a reason—just scary stories passed around by students.

But Tae-shin answered seriously, his tone calm.

“Schools are usually built on land with strong yin energy.”

So it wasn’t just a rumor.

“Kids have strong yang energy, which helps balance the yin. Plus, the land is cheaper, so you can buy a big lot.”

“That last part feels way too real.”

“So don’t just move into a place because the rent is cheap. Like that tiny room you used to live in.”

Suddenly, she remembered the old studio she’d left behind. Were those black smoke ghosts still lurking there?

Tae-shin pushed open the glass doors of the annex and walked in. The gates being open was one thing, but even the annex doors weren’t locked? Strange.

“There must be… a lot of ghosts in schools, right?”

Seula hoped he’d reassure her, but Tae-shin just nodded.

“A lot. Earth-bound spirits, suicide ghosts…”

Just hearing the word “suicide ghost” gave her goosebumps. She rubbed her arms instinctively as Tae-shin continued.

“More students and teachers take their lives on school grounds than you’d think. Bullying, academic stress, abusive parents… the reasons vary.”

Seula’s thoughts drifted to her own school days.

She remembered seeing the look on a friend’s face when their parents told them not to hang out with her because she lived in an orphanage. And how jealous she felt on rainy days, seeing classmates picked up by smiling parents with umbrellas.

Whenever something went missing in class, she was the first suspect. School trips? She stayed behind, doing self-study alone.

As they swept through the first floor, checking room by room, Seula hesitated, then asked,

“Is the spirit we’re looking for tonight also a suicide ghost?”

“No. People who commit suicide don’t make it to the registry, so the Reaper can’t collect them.”

“I’ve been wondering… why doesn’t the Reaper just collect the souls directly? Why ask you to catch them?”

There were stray spirits clinging to corners of the halls, clearly avoiding Tae-shin, but none felt particularly dangerous.

With the first floor clear, they started up the stairs.

“Like with Park Doona, who was stuck in the back room—sometimes the Reaper can’t find the soul.”

They reached the second floor and started checking classrooms through the windows.

“Usually, though, the soul runs away the moment they see the Reaper.”

“They don’t look that scary to me. A bit unusual, but not terrifying.”

“Some don’t realize they’re dead. Others still have things they want to do in the living world. Some just miss their families. You can ask when we meet them.”

“Okay. I’ll think of something to say.”

Everything had gone smoothly—until they reached the third floor.

“What… is this?”

Police tape blocked off the stairwell, and a chalk outline marked the floor beneath it.

That’s when it all made sense—why the gate had been open and the annex unlocked.

The place was still an active crime scene.