Mudoo - Chapter 63

By the law of the conservation of lunatics, every organization is bound to have its own villain. Unfortunately, in Seula’s workplace, the strongest villain was none other than the CEO. The fact that he had the authority to wield power over the employees was a rather dismal reality.

“Woo Seula, is that your boyfriend?”

The CEO glanced between Seula and Kang Tae-shin as he asked. Since she couldn’t exactly define her relationship with Tae-shin as that of “boyfriend and girlfriend,” Seula pressed her lips together and tilted her head with hesitation. The CEO, amused, snapped his fingers with a grin.

“Ah, so you two are… in a fling?”

A fling? How outdated was that term.

“Good times, good times indeed.”

Tae-shin said nothing. He just fixed the CEO with a steady, sharp gaze. Clearly, it fell to Seula to wrap this situation up. She was just about to say that her private life was none of the CEO’s business, and that his intrusion was thoroughly unpleasant, when—

“Well, then… enjoy yourselves. See you next week, Woo Seula!”

Feeling Tae-shin’s eyes on him, the CEO fidgeted awkwardly, waved to Seula, and quickly shuffled off.

“Yes, take care, sir.”

The moment he left, Seula turned around. Tae-shin’s eyes were still narrowed like blades, so sharp and hostile that they could have driven anyone back. He looked as if it wouldn’t surprise her in the least to see him wielding a weapon.

Though Tae-shin would never have to deal with the CEO again, she herself would have to keep working under him. Seula already foresaw that life at the office would become far more uncomfortable starting next week.

“Who was that?”

Only after the CEO disappeared from view did Tae-shin finally speak. Seula sighed lightly and crossed her arms.

“My company’s CEO.”

“A superior, then?”

“Something like that.”

“You must enjoy volunteering to play slave under someone else.”

“That’s how everyone lives. We don’t have much choice if we want to survive.”

Tae-shin looked genuinely baffled, as if he couldn’t understand why anyone would live like that.

“Doesn’t seem like a very good way to live.”

“You didn’t like it when I got a job, either, did you, Tae-shin?”

The words slipped out before she could stop herself. Seula froze—was it wise to bring up the Tae-shin she had known before, to the Tae-shin who had lost all memory?

Sure enough, his gaze dropped onto her with a complicated, searching weight. Seula hurried to change the subject.

“Did you wait long?”

“Tell me more,” he pressed. Her attempt at diversion had failed miserably.

“About what?”

“Why I didn’t want you working.”

“Maybe… because I’m too good at being a slave?”

His eyes grew even more perplexed, her flippant remark falling flat. With no way out, she lifted her shoulders in mock defeat and threw it back at him.

“I wouldn’t know the details. You’d know best, wouldn’t you, Tae-shin?”

His face clouded with frustration, unable to find an answer. He dropped his gaze, collected his expression, and walked ahead toward the sedan parked in the ground lot. Seula followed, her eyes fixed on his broad, unyielding back.

“You can come empty-handed. Just don’t wander off. Come straight back.”

The words he had spoken last winter, when he’d driven her to a job interview, still echoed in her ears. That had been the last gentle conversation they’d shared, before she discovered the terrifying truth that he had awakened the Mudoo inside her. For a brief moment, she had even felt as if he were family.

Even if he hadn’t said it out loud, Seula had sensed it well enough. Tae-shin had never liked her stepping into the world and living an ordinary working life. He had wanted to keep her tethered to his side. And afterward, he had proved it by locking her away in the Cheonghae-dong house.

Whether his emotions back then had been nothing more than possessiveness, lingering attachment to Ye-ok, or just loneliness, she couldn’t know. All she had were guesses. The true answer had always belonged to Tae-shin.

Now, though, he had forgotten it all. A bitter smile flickered across Seula’s lips.

***

Seula opened the wardrobe in the guest room. The clothes she had left there remained neatly stacked, but something was different. When she picked out a soft T-shirt and comfortable pants for sleep, the fabric felt freshly laundered, carrying the clean scent of fabric softener.

It meant someone had continued to wash, sun-dry, and neatly fold her clothes even after she had left.

Her chest tightened with a dull ache, and her nose stung.

“Why… why would you go so far?”

He had told her never to come back no matter what happened. Yet he had kept her room ready, waiting. She wanted to ask him why, but there was no one left who could answer.

Forcing down the lump in her throat, Seula straightened herself. She had no luxury for sentimentality. She was someone who lived with both feet grounded in reality. Right now, her role was to help the Tae-shin who had lost his memory, to erase every trace of the Mudoo he had left inside her, and to close the Eye for good.

Knock, knock.

Just as she finished changing, someone rapped on the door. Seula cracked it open slightly instead of replying.

Tae-shin stood there, his hair damp at the tips, as if he had just stepped out of the shower.

“What is it?”

“Come with me.”

In the past, he would have pushed the door open without hesitation and stepped inside. But now, he merely tilted his chin, signaling her to follow. The intent to keep a proper distance was clear.

Seula slipped out of the guest room and walked beside him down the long corridor. She sneaked a sidelong glance, but he didn’t look her way at all. He was the same man, yet he felt strangely unfamiliar, like someone she had only just met yesterday.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared into the kitchen. Seula sat on the wooden veranda, trying to count how long it had been since she’d last done this. The damp, heavy late-summer wind pressed against her collar like the cutting chill of winter. Beyond the wall, the scenery looked as barren as it had last winter.

“It’s good to have you back again, really good, but still…”

Dong-gil hopped lightly onto the veranda and sat down beside her. His jet-black eyes were clouded with worry.

“You must’ve had a hard time on your own, Dong-gil.”

“Putting up with that guy’s temper isn’t easy, not at all.”

Seula could sense it too, he had grown far more irritable than before. Dong-gil shook his head with a sigh.

“But what can I do? He asked me to look after himself. That was his last request before losing his memory, to pay my dues, he said.”

“That sounds exactly like Tae-shin.”

She let out a soft laugh. Just then, Tae-shin reappeared, holding out a glass filled with ice.

“Why the hell is there so much cocoa powder in this place?”

He shoved the glass at her. The sweet smell hit her nose so strongly it almost numbed her head. Seula stirred the iced chocolate with the muddler stuck inside.

“The kitchen’s stacked with cocoa powder, right? It’s your favorite.”

The memory of Tae-shin reading by the fireplace with a warm mug of hot chocolate surfaced in her mind. He had often handed her a mug too, assuming others would enjoy what he liked.

“Not really my taste.”

He squinted one eye slightly as he said it.

So, did losing memories also change one’s preferences? Seula, frowning, took a sip from the glass. Her face stiffened instantly.

“This is so sweet my tongue feels numb! How much powder did you dump in?”

Tae-shin raised his brows and turned his head away, feigning ignorance.

“If it tastes bad, spit it out.”

Seula studied the man who was both Tae-shin and not Tae-shin at the same time. If it had been the Tae-shin who remembered her, how would he have responded just now?

‘Stop whining and drink it.’

Perhaps… not all that different.

“You’re giving me that look again,” Tae-shin muttered, still not meeting her eyes.

“What look?”

“The look you give when you’re staring at some pitiful fool.”

“Wrong.”

She set the glass down.

“Even if you’ve lost your memories, knowledge stays. Driving, cooking—those are ingrained habits. I guess you never liked iced chocolate, though. You’re clumsy with it, that much is obvious.”

Even she couldn’t be sure. She had never spent a summer with Tae-shin.

What would he have been like in the summer? He had often gone on vacations with Dong-gil. What kind of summer had he spent this year?

Shaking off the trailing thoughts, Seula looked him squarely in the eyes.

“So, what exactly can I help you with?”

Running a hand through his hair, Tae-shin replied,

“Come to the study room.”

There was no trace of yesterday’s pleading. His eyes, half-lidded, were tinged with both caution and curiosity. His broad, solid frame held her gaze.

Seula found herself watching as he slowly walked toward the empty study, unable to look away. She knew he wouldn’t remember the night, just last winter, when they had shared warmth and breath in that very room.