Mudoo - Chapter 4

“Hey, human! Hey, human! Can you hear me now?”

The first thing Seula heard when she came to her senses was the rough voice of a middle-aged man. Still clueless about what had just happened to her, she looked around. The only people here were her and Kang Tae-shin — no one else.

“Ha! Look at you — calling an old man a baby? Serves you right!”

The voice echoed in her ears, but she couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

“I’m… I’m hearing something weird,” Seula said, her eyes wide with confusion as she looked at Tae-shin.

But Tae-shin just gave Dong-gil a calm glance, wearing that usual face that made it seem like nothing was ever a big deal.

“I guess our Dong-gil being older than you thought gave you a bit of a shock. He does look young for his age, though. Right, Donggil?”

“…What?”

Seula tried to ask again, but he ignored her question. Instead, he picked up the tray with the teapot and cups and stood up.

“Three days from now. Ten at night. Come to Cheonghae-dong.”

“….”

“Oh — and congrats on the new job, Ms. Woo Seula.”

He flashed her a polite smile — as if none of this was strange at all — and disappeared back inside the house, leaving Seula sitting there, completely speechless.

Kang Tae-shin’s attitude made it obvious he wanted to skip the small talk and get straight to the point. Seula picked up the teacup he’d poured for her and spoke first.

“The Mudoo— it’s completely gone.”

Tae-shin, who’d just been savouring the tea’s aroma, looked completely unbothered, as if he’d known exactly what she would say.

“It’s not gone,” he said calmly. “It’s just lying low for now.”

Hearing that made Seula’s heart sink again. Deep down, she’d always known this strange rash might come back someday for reasons she couldn’t explain — but having him confirm it made the fear settle in heavier.

“So that smell you talked about yesterday…” she said slowly. “You mean the rash only disappeared because you… put your scent on me?”

Instead of answering out loud, Tae-shin just nodded.

Questions tumbled over each other in Seula’s mind. She didn’t even know where to start. More than anything, she was desperate to know who Kang Tae-shin really was — this man who seemed to know so much about the Mudoo. She forced herself to calm down and pulled out one question at a time.

“So… what exactly is this Mudoo? Is it like a shaman’s curse or something?”

“It’s not a curse, but it’s a condition that usually shows up in shamans. Even then, you hardly ever see it these days.”

“Then why… why did I get it? I’m not a shaman.”

“Looks like you accidentally offended a spirit somehow. But who it was, or why — that, I don’t know.”

“….”

Listening to him, Seula felt her mind spinning. She’d never believed in any religion, never trusted in anything supernatural. She’d never seen a ghost, never felt one, never even had sleep paralysis. Everything Taeshin was saying just sounded like some fairy tale pulled out of thin air.

Am I really supposed to believe this? she thought. Is he seriously telling me to believe this nonsense?

Blinking blankly, Seula let out a dry, self-mocking laugh and muttered under her breath,

“So what then — should I put out a bowl of water and beg the spirit to calm down?”

“Would just begging fix anything?” Tae-shin shot back. “Even a sulking child needs at least a piece of candy to cheer up.”

The more they talked, the more tangled everything felt. Instead of answers, the conversation only seemed to lead her deeper into a maze.

If she’d actually believed in shamanism and visited a shrine regularly, maybe Seula could have found some hope in what he was saying. But she lived in the real world — one that had nothing to do with spirits or evil ghosts — so all this just made her feel even more stifled. Still, she’d come here clutching at straws, so she figured she had to at least hear him out.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” she asked flatly, her voice as hollow as she felt inside.

Tae-shin, who had been leisurely sipping his tea, turned his eyes to her and let a faint smile play on his lips.

“There’s no salvation for those who don’t believe,” he said lightly. “That’s what the Bible says, anyway.”

Seula let out a small sigh. Spirits, ghosts, now Jesus too? Great. He’s got the whole religion package covered.

“Seula. You’re unemployed, right?”

The blunt truth hit her square in the head. It stung enough that her expression soured — as if it wasn’t already miserable enough to have lost her job because her company went broke, and to be struggling just to find anything new.

“Yeah.”

“Then you must have plenty of free time.”

“You seem unemployed too, Tae-shin.”

“Same unemployed status, but our net worth is worlds apart. That’s the difference.”

In other words, he was saying he was a rich unemployed guy. Well, just looking at this huge traditional house and his leisurely life with that well-fed dog, she could tell he wasn’t lying about having money.

“And technically, I do have a job,” he added.

“Freelance model? Aspiring actor? Or are you a YouTuber or something?”

A guy who spent his days walking his dog in broad daylight probably didn’t work a regular nine-to-six. If his job involved his looks, that would actually make sense. Tae-shin looked oddly pleased that she’d implied he was handsome enough to earn a living with his face — he didn’t even bother to hide the shy smile tugging at his lips. Which was so unlike him, it threw her off.

“No… it’s not a job where I stand in front of people. I work at night.”

“…Ah.”

When he said himself that he “works at night,” it made an uncomfortable thought pop into Seula’s head — Was he in the nightlife business?

“It’s a very discreet and… enticing line of work,” Tae-shin added, his tone dripping with mystery.

“…So, what, bartender?” she shot back, feeling like she was playing twenty questions — Guess my secret job!

“Much more satisfying than that. And far more… pleasurable.”

Seula’s expression stiffened. Did he really have to make it sound so suggestive? Was he joking, or half-serious? She suddenly felt like she was prying way too deeply into his private life — and honestly, she didn’t want to know. But Tae-shin seemed oblivious to her discomfort as he leaned forward, looking oddly excited.

“I want you to help me with my work, Seula.”

She ignored him completely, pretending she hadn’t heard a thing. She busied herself petting Dong-gil, who lay sprawled at her feet.

“If you work with me, that rash — the mudoo — it won’t come back. I’ll pay you properly too. It’s a win-win, isn’t it?”

Seula cooed at the dog as if he were a baby, pretending not to hear a word.

“Aww, good boy, Dong-gil! Getting sleepy now? Gonna take a nap? Yes, you are—”

Dong-gil cracked open one eye and bared his teeth at her with a low growl. He looked cute before — not so much now.

Tae-shin didn’t let up, ignoring the icy brush-off as he pressed her again.

“Aren’t you curious what I actually do?”

“I can’t work nights. I’m a morning person — I stick to daylight hours, regular schedule, that kind of thing.”

“Why not at least hear the details? I’ve answered all your questions, haven’t I?”

…That was true. She had no comeback for that. Seula drained her now-cold tea in one go, then took a deep breath.

“…Fine. Let’s hear it.”

At last, Tae-shin’s eyes lit up — the most animated she’d ever seen him, even though she’d only known him for two days.

While he went on explaining, Seula had no idea what kind of face she was supposed to make. It turned out Taeshin’s job was nothing like what she’d guessed — but it wasn’t any easier to wrap her head around. To sum it up, his work involved catching restless spirits that hadn’t managed to move on — just another link in the chain of absurd things they’d been talking about.

When he finally finished, Seula’s face had turned stiff. She pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen over her forehead. A heavy silence stretched between them until she cautiously opened her mouth.

“…I just… I really hope you find happiness, Mr. Kang.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“I mean… these days, it’s not shameful at all to see a psychiatrist. Medicine’s come a long way — I’m sure it could really help you.”

The faint life that had lit up Tae-shin’s face vanished instantly. His smile dropped away, leaving behind a cold, cutting expression that made Seula’s skin crawl. His lips pressed into a thin line before he spoke, voice low and sharp.

“Then how do you explain your mudoo suddenly disappearing?”

“…That’s—”

A splitting headache slammed into her skull as if her head were being crushed from the inside. Her ears rang, her vision went black at the edges, and the air around her turned so cold she began to shiver uncontrollably. The dizziness made her feel like she might pass out any second.

“It’s fine not to believe what you can’t see. It’s good to keep doubting — it’s a survival instinct that keeps people safe. But now I’m curious…”

“Wait — my head — it really—”

“…If you could see it for yourself — would you finally believe me?”

A large hand came up and gently covered her eyes. The moment his warmth touched her, the cold faded. The pounding in her head eased as quickly as it had come, the ringing subsided, and all she could hear was the wind rustling through tree branches.

How long did he hold her like that? When he finally pulled his hand away, the winter sun stabbed at her eyes, making her squint. Seula slowly blinked her eyes open.

Nothing seemed to have changed. Taeshin still sat there, face set in a hard line. The empty teacups and pot were still there on the porch.

But then Dong-gil, who’d been lying at her feet, suddenly sprang up and started wagging his tail madly.