Mudoo - Chapter 55

“Ms. Woo, you remember we’re going out on fieldwork together today, right? What time are we leaving?”

It was Chohee, the new hire who had joined a while back to replace Seula’s previous junior, poking her head over the partition.

Seula, absorbed in another task, glanced at the time on her monitor.

“How about we leave at exactly eleven? We can have lunch when we get there, then take care of business.”

“Sounds good!”

Chohee’s eyes sparkled before she disappeared behind the partition again.

But Seula’s desk was still buried under a mountain of work to finish before eleven. She’d even come in thirty minutes early, anticipating this, yet the pile hadn’t shrunk.

“Ms. Woo, the CEO’s got a health checkup next Wednesday and wants his schedule cleared. Can you reschedule the meetings for that day?”

The section chief, two seats over, handed off more work without hesitation.

A quick check showed there were three meetings booked for that day—three! Seula could feel heat rising in her scalp.

On top of that, she had to compile a list of potential collaborators for the next quarter’s projects, recruit SNS supporters, and now juggle the CEO’s schedule. Small companies without much structure had work scattered all over the place.

She gulped down coffee from her tumbler. Caffeine was the only thing keeping her alive.

***

“Don’t you think you should get a car, Ms. Woo? You go out on fieldwork a lot. But then, cars just drain money, so I’m not sure either.”

They were on the subway, heading to their destination. Chohee was naturally curious and sociable, so there was never a dull moment when they went out together.

Seula smiled awkwardly.

“I don’t even have my license yet.”

“Oh, really? Well, if you’re just going to let it rot as a ‘closet license,’ then maybe it’s better that way. I got mine as soon as I turned twenty, but since I don’t own a car, it’s been useless.”

—This station is ____. The doors will open on the right.

The announcement played, and soon the doors opened. Passengers poured in like a wave.

Seula gripped a pole tightly—two more stops to go. She had thought it would be less crowded outside rush hour, but she was wrong.

Then a visually impaired man boarded with his guide dog. Someone near the door offered their seat, and the man sat, the guide dog curling up obediently at his feet.

“Isn’t that so sweet and amazing? How can a dog be that smart?” Chohee whispered in Seula’s ear.

“Right?”

Seula smiled faintly.

Dong-gil was just about that size. He could understand human speech, even hold conversations—he’d make an excellent guide dog.

The more she looked at the dog, the more she thought of Dong-gil. Was he doing okay? Was he healthy? Being the mystical being he was, he could surely take care of himself.

And of course, thinking of Dong-gil meant thinking of his owner. Was Kang Tae-shin still living like a friend, a brother, with him? Was Kang Tae-shin… doing well?

Even with work piled up so high she could barely breathe, her mind wandered to such idle thoughts. She scolded herself and tried to shove away any worry about how they might be doing back in Cheonghae-dong.

***

They had lunch with the client staff after arriving—suyuk gukbap, a simple pork and rice soup.

Conversation stayed on safe ground: how the project was going, whether there were any issues. Just bland business talk.

After lunch, they grabbed coffee from a franchise café to go, then headed to the venue for the next day’s event—a bazaar, exhibition, and lecture. The proceeds and donations would go to help marginalized communities.

Several well-known influencers and celebrities had donated items for the bazaar. Some had even claimed booths to organize and sell the goods themselves.

“…!”

Seula, following the client staff into the event hall without much thought, froze. There, sweat beading on his forehead as he organized clothes with sunglasses perched on his head, was a man whose face she knew all too well.

“Oh my god. That’s Paeng Si-jin, right, Ms. Woo?”

“Paeng… who?”

The name was unfamiliar, though the face was not. Even the surname sounded unusual.

“Paeng Si-jin! He used to be an idol, and he blew up recently after a drama. I’ve liked him since his idol days, but real life got in the way, so I stopped following him…”

Chohee chattered excitedly into Seula’s ear, but most of it went in one ear and out the other. Seula didn’t know much about idols, nor did she care.

What she did care about was that he looked uncannily like Kang Tae-shin.

Clear, pale skin, a proud nose cutting clean across his face, long sharp eyes without double lids, and full, red lips like he’d just applied tint.

“Though I heard he had work done on his nose,” Chohee added quietly.

“Well, as long as he’s handsome, who cares, right?” Seula replied, her eyes still locked on him.

If Kang Tae-shin had been born in this era, aging naturally like any ordinary person, would he have become an idol or an actor like this man?

She remembered the first time she’d met him, wondering what he did for a living.

Freelance model? Unknown actor? Maybe a YouTuber?

With looks like his, she hadn’t imagined a normal job. But to hear that he hunted wandering spirits who couldn’t ascend—thinking back on it now still felt absurd.

The memory made her chuckle involuntarily.

“Ms. Woo?” Chohee looked at her curiously.

“Ah, sorry. Zoned out for a second.”

They made another round of the venue to double-check that nothing would get in the way of tomorrow’s event. But even while working, Seula’s gaze kept drifting back to the man who looked so much like Kang Tae-shin.

***

Back home, Seula had picked up boneless stirred chicken feet and a can of beer. The moment she stepped inside, a chill wrapped around her.

She’d wanted to move ever since realizing the place had bad energy, but circumstances hadn’t allowed it. After leaving Cheonghae-dong, she’d gone straight into full-time work, with no time or energy to look for a new home. She’d kept putting it off, and half a year had passed.

She flopped onto the couch and turned on the TV, settling on a variety show with canned laughter. Even knowing it was fake, the noise made it feel less lonely.

She opened the stirred chicken feet and cracked the beer. One sip, and it felt like the day’s fatigue melted away.

“Ahhh, that hits the spot.”

But the refreshing taste faded quickly, replaced by bitterness.

If only Kang Tae-shin were here.

The thought dropped her heart like a stone. She’d thought the longing would fade, but it had only deepened.

Yeo-ok. Yeo-ok.

Every time, she reminded herself—Kang Tae-shin had never wanted her by his side forever. That place in his heart had always belonged to Yeo-ok.

She saw him again in her mind, in that dream, kneeling before the dying Yeo-ok, begging her not to leave.

In the most recent dream, he’d looked older than before—taller, with a sturdier build, maybe from years of hard work.

Had it started then? From the moment he ate the peach blossom fruit to save Yeo-ok—had he lived all this time, without dying or aging, frozen in that same form?

For a moment, she felt as if she were seeing through Yeo-ok’s eyes. Her chest tightened, her throat closed up. Tears welled and spilled over.

“She was going to die anyway… so why go that far to save her?”

He’d done it because he couldn’t stand to be alone. But in the end, he had been left alone, spending countless years with only Dong-gil for company.

I’m not her… so why does my heart hurt this much?

She beat her chest with her fist, the ache inside almost unbearable. Thinking of the man he’d been back then—so desperate, so pitiful—made the urge to run back to him, even recklessly, surge up like a broken dam.