Mudoo - Chapter 71

Part 8: The Longest Night of the Winter Solstice

Seula glanced sideways at Kang Tae-shin, who was now standing beside her.

“Who was that?”

She pretended not to hear his question and swallowed dryly. For some reason, her palms were damp with cold sweat.

— “What’s been going on lately? Did you and Tae-shin fight? You two sorted things out now? What happened, huh? Talk to me.”

At the reaper’s impatient prodding, Seula bit her lip before answering.

“It’s just… a simple labor dispute.”

— “A labor dispute? Tae-shin didn’t exactly look fine when I saw him.”

“Has Tae-shin been out catching spirits on his own while I was gone?”

— “Don’t even get me started. I begged and pleaded, on my hands and knees, to drag him out of the house two or three times, and that’s all I managed.”

A click of the tongue came from the other end of the receiver.

— “You know how it is. The wandering dead—unless they’re vengeful spirits—run away the second they see him. Whenever he’s involved, work that should’ve been done by midnight drags on until dawn. Nearly gave me an ulcer.”

So he had been doing this job even while they were apart. Seula snuck another glance at Tae-shin. His eyes were narrowed, clearly irritated that she’d ignored his question. With a small sigh, she replied into the phone.

“Why force someone to do what they clearly don’t want to?”

— “Oh? Listen to you talking back now. Are you seriously doing this to me?”

“Tae-shin can’t do this kind of work anymore.”

— “What? Why not?”

Seula could practically see the reaper’s shocked face. She gripped the receiver tightly with both hands and whispered quickly so Tae-shin wouldn’t hear.

“He’s sick. Really sick.”

“You talking about me right now?”

Tae-shin caught on immediately, jaw tightening as he cut in. Seula figured that was enough explanation for the reaper, so she started to hang up—but the reaper’s urgent voice rang through the line.

— “No, no, no! Don’t hang up!”

“Do you have anything else to say?”

— “This is the last one. I swear. Just one last favor.”

She could hear the reaper practically rubbing his hands together in desperation.

— “Come on, Seula. Please, just help me this one last time, okay?”

Seula frowned and met Tae-shin’s eyes. He was glaring back as if to say, What the hell are you talking about now?

— “It’s urgent. I’ll pay you four times the usual rate. Come on, can’t you just do it this once?”

The part that stuck in Seula’s ears wasn’t four times the pay, but the last time. If she didn’t settle this properly, the reaper would definitely come back begging Tae-shin again. After biting her lip several times, she muttered reluctantly.

“…It really is the last time, right?”

— “Yeah, yeah. I swear on my reaper life.”

“What’s the job?”

The reaper finally exhaled in relief and explained.

— “There’s a wandering soul trapped inside an abandoned house. I need to bring it in.”

Seula quietly listened and jotted down the address on the notepad beside the phone.

— “That place is crawling with evil spirits. Be careful, okay?”

“Then why are you sending Tae-shin into something that dangerous?!”

The line went dead. The reaper had clearly hung up quickly, so Seula wouldn’t have time to take it back. She sighed heavily and lowered the receiver, only to see Tae-shin’s chest filling her view—arms crossed, face tight with irritation.

“Maybe that’s why you don’t have any friends—taking other people’s calls without asking.”

Judging by his expression, he was already beyond annoyed. Seula crumpled the memo with the address in her palm before handing it to him.

“This is what you used to do, remember? Catch spirits who couldn’t ascend and hand them over to the reaper. …But you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

Tae-shin tilted his head slightly, looking between her and the note.

“If it’s something I used to do, losing my memory doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“That’s because you’re not in a normal state right now.”

“Let’s go. I’ll prove I’m perfectly fine.”

For a moment, Seula regretted everything. She should’ve just said no to the reaper right away. That word—last—had swayed her like a reed in the wind. She quickly snatched the memo back from Tae-shin’s hand.

“I must’ve lost my mind. Tae-shin, stay here. I’ll go by myself.”

Thinking about it, there was no reason she couldn’t handle it alone. She just had to escort the lost soul to the reaper. The days of hiding behind Tae-shin out of fear of ghosts were long gone. Nothing she saw scared her anymore.

She pressed her lips into a straight line and turned to leave, but Tae-shin stepped in front of her. He covered her hand that held the memo and lowered his voice, close enough for his breath to brush her ear.

“It’s dangerous. You think I’d let you go alone?”

Just then, Dong-gil trotted out of Tae-shin’s room with something in his mouth. He dropped it at their feet—a knife with a red tassel hanging from the hilt.

“Take me too! I’m going too!”

***

The sedan sped down the highway, Tae-shin at the wheel, Seula beside him, and Dong-gil sprawled in the back seat. Outside, a cold autumn rain streaked across the windows.

Seula stared silently at the drops racing down the glass. The rain only amplified the unease churning in her chest.

“Dong-gil, you were supposed to stay home. Why’d you insist on coming?”

“You said it’s the last one, the last time! I can help this time, I swear!”

Something about the whole situation felt off. She should never have agreed to the reaper’s request. She should’ve just gone alone and kept Tae-shin out of it. The regret crawled up her spine, but it was far too late to undo anything now.

Sensing the weight in the air, Tae-shin spoke up.

“So this was my job before, huh?”
“That’s right, but… in your condition—”

“I still don’t get what’s supposed to be wrong with my ‘condition.’ Do you know how insulting it is to be treated like I’m some invalid?”

His tone was sharp, cutting through her words. Eyes fixed on the road, Tae-shin went on.

“Stop pitying someone who’s perfectly capable.”

He did look fine, at least on the outside. Seula rested her head against the window and murmured, almost to herself.

“If you’re so fine, why don’t you start by getting rid of my mudoo?”

“Why would I do that?”

His casual reply made her frown. Before she could respond, he added,

“If I could get rid of it but didn’t, I probably had a reason.”

Seula clenched her hands in her lap so tightly her nails dug into her skin.

“So you knew about my mudoo and pretended not to. Is that it?”

He said nothing. His expression remained the same—cold, unreadable.

“This is exactly why I left you, Tae-shin.”

“……”

“All you ever care about is yourself. You don’t see how much pain others are in, or what they’re going through. You’re selfish—shameless, even.”

“……”

“I’ll keep this short. When we’re done with tonight’s job, fix me. Make me normal again. You said I’m a patient, right?”

Tae-shin pressed his tongue into his cheek before replying,

“Is it okay to make unreasonable demands of a patient?”

Seula’s eyes sharpened as she glared at him. He called himself sick when it suited him, and perfectly fine when it didn’t. Maybe his memory loss had scrambled more than just his past—it was like his mind itself was flickering in and out.

“Stop fighting, stop fighting,”

Dong-gil piped up wearily from the back seat.

Seula glanced over her shoulder. “We’re not fighting, Dong-gil. We’re… negotiating.”

“Looks like fighting to me. Definitely fighting.”

The car fell into silence. None of them spoke again until they reached their destination. Only the sound of rain tapping harder against the glass filled the air.

“I think this is it.”

The sedan stopped in front of an old wooden house, a short distance from the nearest village. Tae-shin turned off the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out. Seula followed, tilting her head back to take in the two-story building.

Even at a glance, it was clear the house had been abandoned for years—overgrown weeds, cracked wood, the air thick with damp decay. From the half-open gate seeped a heavy, shadowy chill.

Cold sweat dampened Seula’s palms as goosebumps rippled up her arms.

“Dong-gil, you stay here. Don’t come in.”

Sheltering under the eaves, Dong-gil seemed to realize this time he should listen. He tucked his front paws together and sat down obediently.

“Be careful. Be careful.”