The Night Of The Untraced

‘I’m screwed.’

That was the first thought Seungjoo had as soon as he opened his eyes. A strange ceiling, a strange room, strange sheets, and a strange ache. His whole body felt sore, as if he had been beaten up, and beyond his blurry vision, an even stranger sight caught his eye.

The first thing he saw was the broad back of someone sitting on the edge of the bed. The shoulders, spread wide like a massive wall, weren’t overly rugged, nor did they seem fragile. The firm muscles, lined with occasional scars, twitched now and then, exuding a commanding presence.

‘…I’m really screwed.’

The sight was so perfect it stole his gaze, but Seungjoo felt as if he might lose his mind first. It wasn’t because the person in front of him was a man, nor was it because he was naked, or because his back was covered in scars mixed with scratch marks.

It was simply because he already knew all too well who this person was.

‘It’s Kim Muheun…’

It was Muheun, the older guy who’d lived next door since birth. His old friend’s older brother, and a long-time friend of his late sister. Ten years older than him, far more mischievous, always finding ways to tease him until he started avoiding him around puberty.

“…”

How did things end up like this? Seungjoo swallowed dryly as he struggled to recall the events of last night.

It was the freshman welcome party for new students. He remembered attending the grand drinking event as a part of the sociology department. He’d managed to avoid most of the drinks his seniors offered, but eventually had to take a few bomb shots for unavoidable reasons. Predictably, he got tipsy, and after a certain point, only fleeting scenes remained in his memory.

‘But why is Kim Muheun here?’

Had it been out on the street, he wouldn’t have been so bewildered. No, even if he had woken up at the house of a classmate he’d just befriended yesterday, he might have been okay. But if the person in front of him hadn’t been Kim Muheun, he felt certain he wouldn’t be this shocked to find himself undressed with someone else.

‘…Is this a dream?’

Trying desperately to deny reality, Seungjoo stared at the tattoo trailing from Muheun’s neck to his shoulder. The ink wash design, which could have been an orchid or some other flower, stretched from behind his left ear, adorned with piercings, down his arm and to his wrist. Since Muheun usually wore long sleeves, this was Seungjoo’s first time seeing it so clearly.

‘Yeah, this must be a dream.’

His life, just twenty years so far, hadn’t been exceptionally long, but it had been quite eventful. Seungjoo decided that this must be a rare dream, the kind he hadn’t had in ages. After all, that was the only explanation that could make sense of this absurd situation.

‘Just go back to sleep. When I wake up, everything will…’

“Awake?”

“…”

But just as he was about to close his eyes, an undeniable voice pried into his ears. It wasn’t loud, but the soft tone had an overwhelming impact. Before Seungjoo could answer, Muheun continued speaking without even turning around.

“Muryeong texted. Said he’d come home tonight, asked if we’d want to have dinner together.”

It was then that Seungjoo noticed what Muheun held in his hand. The phone he had been engrossed in since earlier wasn’t anyone else’s—it was Seungjoo’s. Seungjoo, recognizing the latest model he was familiar with, bolted upright in shock.

“No way, you’re holding someone else’s phone…”

It felt like his stiffened body cracked with a creak. At the same time, he froze completely, unable to move an inch. Aside from the sharp pain in his lower back, he realized something else: his lower body, hidden under the covers, felt oddly bare.

In an awkward position, Seungjoo stared wide-eyed, swallowing back a scream that rose to his throat.

‘Damn it, my underwear…’

He had thought the naked one was Muheun, but it turned out it was himself. Unlike Muheun, who was still wearing his pants, Seungjoo had nothing on below his waist. Even the oversized t-shirt he wore was clearly not his.

“You okay?”

Muheun casually asked the stunned Seungjoo, who, slowly turning his head, met Muheun’s steady, almost probing gaze. In those dark, intense eyes, he could see a faint look of concern.

“Your back must hurt.”

“…”

Seungjoo’s eyes wavered intensely. Even with his limited imagination, there was only one conclusion he could come to in this situation. Waking up in an unfamiliar place, on a bed, wearing someone else’s clothes without underwear.

And as if that wasn’t enough, if the person next to him was the man he had secretly admired for a long time…

“…What the hell is going on?”

“Guess you don’t remember,” Muheun remarked with a chuckle, his lips curling up into that familiar mischievous smile. What he said next was precisely the last thing Seungjoo wanted to hear.

“You cried a lot yesterday.”

“…”

A curse almost slipped from his mouth. Seungjoo clenched his teeth, staring into Muheun’s slyly narrowed eyes.

Three months since he turned twenty. Yes, it was only three months, and here he was.

* * *

Long ago, in a remote mountain village, there was a woman known for seeing spirits.

With an unusually beautiful appearance, the woman shocked everyone with her eccentric behavior. She would dash to the village outskirts in the dead of night or lock herself up and cry when the sky turned dark with storm clouds. She wasn’t truly mad, but her actions made it seem as though she was.

Only one person stayed by her side in the end—her sole friend. This friend brought her wild azaleas and dressed her in fine silks to replace her worn-out clothes that others found shabby.

‘Do you think there are dogwood flowers blooming on the mountain?’

As days passed, the woman regained her vitality and no longer cried even when the sky grew cloudy. She would frolic along flower-strewn paths with her friend instead of wandering the village at midnight. They were the happiest days she’d ever known, but that joy lasted only a fleeting moment.

‘The crops…’

It was a time of poor harvests due to unending drought. The villagers’ misplaced anger turned into resentment, and soon, the blame fell upon the woman. People claimed that her strange behavior brought misfortune and suggested that she be sacrificed in a ritual to pray for rain.

‘Fire!’

Just as they were about to take the woman to the mountain and cut off her head, flames suddenly erupted in the forest. Amid the chaos, her friend was the one to lift her up. Covering her with a water-soaked cloth, the friend’s voice trembled with desperation.

‘…I set fire to the mountain.’

Though prepared to face the consequences, the friend’s actions couldn’t save even themselves. The vengeful spirits born from the burned woods took form as the Gwimae, swearing to forever pursue the friend as their prey, claiming it a retribution for disturbing lives beyond human lifetimes.

The woman made a promise: when unseen things come after you, I will gladly sacrifice myself to protect you. I am not mad; I only have the eyes to see, and with those eyes, I will gain the power to save you from everything I perceive.

This promise, which might seem like a fanciful tale, endured until the two women’s lives came to an end. Even after they each found partners and passed on their legacies, the woman did not forget the debt of gratitude she owed her friend. She hid herself in a house of the same design, side by side, to deceive the invisible things that visited at night.

As time passed, memories faded, leaving only a sense of duty, yet their fates remained unchanged.

Just as the descendants of the Seo family, the woman’s friend whom she protected, were born with a fate of short lives.

And just as the descendants of the Kim family continue to exorcise unseen beings to protect those Seo descendants.

And even now, the two families continue to live as neighbors in the same neighborhood.

* * *

“……”

A street lined with detached houses. Neat, carefully constructed stone walls, and a clean neighborhood free of even a speck of trash. This was where Seungjoo had lived since he was born.

One unusual feature was the two identical gates; the one on the left was Seungjoo’s home, and the one on the right was the home of his childhood friend, Muryeong.

‘Well, Kim Muryeong doesn’t live here anymore.’

Seungjoo shook his head lightly, correcting his thoughts. Muryeong, whom he had gone to kindergarten, elementary, middle, and high school with, had moved out after graduating high school to live independently. Moving out upon adulthood—that was the custom in the house next door.

“Alright, I’m leaving, Seungjoo.”

So, ten years ago, Kim Muheun from here also moved out to live on his own.

“Take care, you’re probably not feeling well.”

Seungjoo awkwardly turned his gaze away at the gentle concern. It wasn’t the first time Muheun had shown such care, but for some reason, today it felt strangely pointed—likely because, just a couple of hours ago, they had been sitting together on the same bed.

‘Seungjoo, you cried a lot last night.’

The place Seungjoo had woken up in earlier was none other than Muheun’s studio apartment. It was the place he’d settled down this year after wandering around the countryside for a decade. Having moved in less than a month ago, he hadn’t even furnished it properly; the only thing in the bedroom was a large bed.

‘Well…’

Seungjoo didn’t ask why he was there. Nor why his back was sore, what had happened last night, or where his clothes were and why he was only wearing a shirt of Muheun’s.

‘I’ll just… go now.’

Ignorance is bliss; there’s a reason that saying exists. After all, he’d been friends with Kim Muryeong for 20 years and had associated with the exorcists next door for just as long. Over the years, Seungjoo had learned to pretend not to know things and ask nothing if someone didn’t explicitly say something. If no one chose to speak, hearing it likely wouldn’t lead to anything good.

‘You should eat breakfast.’

However, instead of letting him go quietly, Muheun stopped him with a single sentence. Placing his phone into Seungjoo’s hand, he spoke softly, as if coaxing a child.

‘Hold on, I’ll buy you something nice to eat.’

I don’t need anything nice; I’d rather you put on some pants. If I ate like this, I’d probably get an upset stomach, so maybe I should just head home instead.

But there were exactly two reasons he couldn’t bring himself to say he didn’t need it.

‘Eat up. I’ll drive you home.’

First, Muheun’s lips were slightly swollen,

‘Our Seungjoo needs to eat well.’

And second, there was a faint bite mark on his neck, which he couldn’t tell whose it was.

* * *

‘…Alright, just give me my clothes, please.’

Who was to blame? He could only resent himself for drinking to the point of blacking out. And he could curse last night’s Seungjoo, who had likely been the first to make a move. He thought it would be reasonable to hold Muheun partly accountable as an adult, but he didn’t remember his attitude, so he couldn’t just accuse him.

Seungjoo ended up eating the “something nice” that Muheun bought him and then returned home. True to his word, Muheun put him in the passenger seat and drove him right to the gate. He didn’t leave immediately after dropping him off, either, but followed him to the door to make sure he went inside.

“…Aren’t you busy?”

“I am. I need to head to the association right after taking a nap.”

“Well… in that case, go on. Thanks for the meal.”

Seungjoo offered a curt farewell, bowing his head to Muheun. Seeing the polite gesture, a faint smile formed on Muheun’s lips. He looked down at Seungjoo and spoke in his characteristic, low tone.

“Don’t drink too much tonight.”

“…”

How did he know Seungjoo had plans to drink tonight? Looking up at him in surprise, Muheun shrugged his shoulders.

“You told me yesterday, Seungjoo.”

Even while intoxicated, he had the presence of mind to mention it. But if he’d had that much sense, he shouldn’t have made a mistake. With a swirl of mixed feelings, Seungjoo forced himself to respond indifferently.

“I don’t always drink like that.”

He only overdrank due to a particular situation last night; usually, he could control himself. Even if he drank heavily, it was rare for him to black out like that. If he blacked out and disappeared, his parents, who were constantly worried, might scour every bar in town looking for him.

“Alright, I’ll go now. Get inside.”

Muheun gave Seungjoo a reassuring pat on the shoulder with an excessively neutral touch that conveyed neither more nor less than the attitude of an older brother to his younger neighbor. The neutrality of it left Seungjoo feeling conflicted as he opened the gate.

‘What’s this?’

As he did, a faint sense of unease brushed the back of his neck. The spaciously landscaped yard, the hanok with both main and annex buildings, and the amulets plastered along the inner wall—all of it was the same as always.

“What?”

“No… nothing.”

It’s just my imagination, he thought, shaking off the unease and stepping inside.

As Seungjoo entered, Muheun watched from a step away, squinting his eyes.

* * *

The Seo family, cursed by Gwimae.

The family had long been fated for short lives, notorious for falling prey to demons before reaching the age of twenty. The count of those who lost their lives was so high that their graves could practically form a mountain. The curse, which had lasted for generations, was too great and deeply rooted to break by human means.

But all living beings naturally have a tenacity for survival. To protect themselves, they resorted to every possible measure, finding countless means of resistance. Not only did they secure the protection of a renowned exorcist family, but they also accumulated wealth across generations to establish a more stable and secure foundation.

Seungjoo was the youngest and the only one in his family with the fate to live a long life. He was born on November 9, a lunar day known as “Son-eomneun-nal,” a day free from malevolent spirits. Thanks to this fortune, he was able to defy his fate. Without spiritual energy, he wasn’t a target for malevolent spirits, and his strong willpower protected him from being affected by dark energy.

Naturally, his family, who had already lost two children, cherished Seungjoo immensely. If he so much as got a scratch, he would be taken to the hospital for a full checkup, and his birthday was celebrated with grand festivities every year.

But all this overprotection left Seungjoo with nothing but a deep sense of frustration.

“—So?”

“Guess Muheun called my parents. They didn’t say anything, though.”

After being escorted home by Muheun, Seungjoo felt a twinge of guilt and embarrassment as he thought of his parents. Their son, who had said he’d be out socializing, had gone missing overnight without any contact. It wouldn’t have been surprising if they had turned the house upside down or even filed a police report. He just hoped they wouldn’t burst into tears when they saw him.

“…Did they say they went to work?”

However, the housekeeper had unexpected news for him: his parents had gone to bed as usual and left for work early in the morning. Though it was puzzling, Seungjoo could guess why.

“Well, my parents have always been over the top. Muheun hyung probably explained things well.”

Just to be sure, he checked his call log and saw that, indeed, his mother’s number had been dialed during the night. The call lasted around five minutes, and it was likely that Muheun had picked up. There was also a call with “Kim Muryeong” above that, which must have happened while he was asleep.

“Good thing. When I saw him answering your phone, I thought something was up.”

As he listened to the voice on the other end of the line, Seungjoo slipped a hand into his coat pocket. He felt the familiar crinkle of a talisman, one that Muryeong had made for him in their high school years.

Had it always been this cold? While he pondered this, Muryeong continued, chiding him in a calm, measured tone that belied his young voice.

“You really shouldn’t drink until you black out. You need to pace yourself.”

“…”

Was he really lecturing me, just like my parents?

Getting a lecture from Muryeong, of all people, was a new experience—back in high school, Seungjoo had been the one looking after him so much that their friends jokingly called him “Kim Muryeong’s dad.”

“You’re not even a strong drinker, so why drink that much?”

Normally, he would have retorted that it wasn’t because he was weak but because Muryeong was unusually resilient. However, given his current situation, he couldn’t bring himself to say it, so he repeated the same half-hearted excuse he’d given Muheun earlier.

“I don’t drink like that all the time.”

“Really?”

Typical. Like Muheun, he didn’t really believe him—more like he didn’t care either way.

“So I guess you’re not coming over today?”

Born into a renowned exorcist family, Muryeong had begun his training in the craft as soon as he moved out. Though he was still an apprentice, he was incredibly busy. Even though it hadn’t even been two weeks since they last saw each other, it would have been nice to catch up, but unfortunately, Seungjoo already had dinner plans.

“Yeah, I’m on my way to meet the guys now. I’ll be a bit late.”

“Seolgi will miss you.”

“Baek Seolgi would be justified in feeling that way.”

Seungjoo softened as he thought of the fluffy dog. Seolgi, a large, slightly off-white dog from Muryeong’s family, was an adorable 14-year-old companion. More of a big, golden-tinged fluffball than a dog, really.

“By the way, how did he know to come get you?”

“Well, I don’t really know…”

“Huh? You didn’t ask?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why ask? All that matters is that I got home safe.”

Of course he hadn’t asked. He couldn’t ask. If he did, he would have to ask about everything that happened last night, too.

“Maybe you ran into each other?”

With no way of knowing what had happened, Muryeong replied casually. He thought that Seungjoo had simply gotten too drunk at the Hwanyeong Club and ended up crashing at Muheun’s place. There was no need to mention the state he’d found himself in upon waking up.

“Maybe. Hey, I’m almost there, so I’ll hang up now.”

With that, Seungjoo ended the call without hesitation. If he stayed on the line any longer, Muryeong—ever the perceptive one—might start sensing that something was off. Or perhaps he already had and was choosing not to press the issue.

“Thank goodness he’s not the prying type.”

That was the best thing about his family. They didn’t bring up topics that others found uncomfortable. It was considerate, on one hand, though some might see it as indifference. The difference was that Muryeong was the considerate type, while Muheun was more of the indifferent type.

“As long as I keep quiet…”

Muheun probably wouldn’t mention what happened last night unless Seungjoo brought it up first. It was a secret to be buried forever, something to keep from Muryeong, and even from himself and Muheun.

“Forget it.”

He was very good at feigning ignorance. Deciding to forget, he resolved not to dwell on the memories. Just like he had buried his feelings for Muheun a long time ago, he could let this night’s memories sink into oblivion, too.

“Whew.”

At last, Seungjoo let out a relieved sigh, feeling calmer already. His ability to control his thoughts served him well, and deciding to forget about it truly put his mind at ease.

On his way to the barbecue restaurant, his steps felt exceptionally light.

* * *

“Forget it… damn it…”

The bustling barbecue restaurant was filled with all sorts of lively noises. The sizzling sound of pork belly on the grill, the laughter of tipsy men at a nearby table, the clinking of soju glasses, and the concerned voice coming from across the table.

“What’s wrong, huh?”

When Jinwoo asked, Seungjoo responded with a sigh instead of an answer. He felt the urge to speak bubbling up inside, but it wasn’t something he could share with Jinwoo, whom he’d only known for a few weeks. Then again, even if it were Muryeong, who had known him his whole life, he probably wouldn’t be able to say it.

“…It’s nothing.”

“Nothing, my foot. Do you know how many times you’ve sighed since we got here?”

Clearly frustrated, Jinwoo seemed bothered by Seungjoo’s demeanor. After all, he’d invited him out for drinks, but here Seungjoo was, barely touching anything, just fidgeting with the edge of a paper cup. It didn’t help that Seo-hyun, who was supposed to join them, was running late, leaving only the two of them sitting awkwardly at the table.

“What’s going on? You have to tell me if you want me to understand.”

Seungjoo flinched, his lips parting slightly. It was amazing how, even knowing he shouldn’t, he suddenly wanted to spill everything. Despite the noisy surroundings, he kept thinking about what happened that morning. How he’d woken up half-naked beside an acquaintance. Not just any acquaintance—Muheun.

* * *

Well, technically, he could tell that much. But what would he say if Jinwoo, who was also a guy, just shrugged it off and asked what the big deal was? How could he explain that he’d been in unrequited love with that guy for over a decade? Or that Muheun had even said, “You cried a lot last night,” when he’d woken up. There was no way he could say all that sober.

“…I blacked out after drinking last night.”

So Seungjoo settled on a partial truth. He figured that if he didn’t at least say something, Jinwoo would grow even more concerned. Nodding knowingly, Jinwoo paused for a moment, then widened his eyes.

“What? You seemed totally fine last night!”

“Exactly.”

That was what really got to Seungjoo. He was sure he’d left the bar completely clear-headed. How clear-headed, you ask? Clear enough that someone had even posted in the group chat, “Seungjoo really holds his liquor.”

“Wow, you have such a calm drinking habit? I threw up in the street last night.”

“Ugh, don’t talk about that with food in front of us.”

“Sorry.”

But why, of all things, was it only his memory of Muheun that was gone? If he was going to forget, he wished he could just ignore it altogether. Barely thirty minutes after deciding to let it go, he was already itching to figure out what had left that hole in his memory. How did he even meet Muheun last night, and why had they ended up at his apartment? Why had he cried so much?

To make matters worse, seeing Jinwoo’s ear piercings reminded Seungjoo of Muheun’s.

Jinwoo has one in his helix… Muheun has three lower on his ear and two in his lobe…

Shaking his head quickly, he tried to stop the comparisons from forming.

“Hey, don’t worry. You didn’t do anything wrong. Relax, you got home safe on your own two feet,” Jinwoo said, laughing as he poured more soju into Seungjoo’s glass. Apparently, he planned to drink just as much as they had the previous night. With a deep frown, Seungjoo pushed the soju glass aside.

“I’m not drinking tonight. I know I didn’t mess up at the bar, but I think I did on my way home.”

“What, did you throw up in the street too?”

“Stop talking about stuff like that with food in front of us.”

“Then what? Did you… pee in public?”

“…It’s not that.”

How much could he actually say? Seungjoo debated internally. He knew that if he dodged the question too much, Jinwoo might actually think he’d done something like that.

“…I messed up with someone I know…”

He managed to get out a bit of the truth but couldn’t go further. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t the only one at fault, though. In the end, Seungjoo concluded it was mutual and frowned slightly.

“I don’t remember. Not a thing.”

“Oh, wow…”

Jinwoo looked at him with a face full of pity and placed a piece of perfectly grilled meat on Seungjoo’s plate. Apparently, he’d been cooking while Seungjoo had been sighing. He urged him to eat first and worry later, and Seungjoo gave a small nod of thanks before putting the meat in his mouth.

Of course, after chewing and swallowing, he let out yet another deep sigh.

“Haa…”

“What’s up with him?”

A sudden, unfamiliar voice cut in. Looking up with a frown, Seungjoo saw Seo-hyun, who’d just arrived. Jinwoo snapped the tongs together and greeted her with a grin.

“Hey, Kim Seo-hyun, you’re finally here.”

“Sorry for being late. But why does he look so down?”

Seo-hyun placed her bag under the barrel-shaped stool and took the empty seat next to Seungjoo, who poured her a glass of water. Jinwoo, of course, had already filled her soju glass.

“Seungjoo blacked out after drinking last night.”

“Last night?”

Seo-hyun’s curious expression shifted to one of guilt.

“Oh, sorry. Was it because of me…?”

“….”

Seungjoo flinched slightly, biting his cheek and trying to keep a neutral expression. He’d felt comfortable enough talking with just Jinwoo, but he hadn’t expected Seo-hyun to hear about it.

“It wasn’t your fault… I couldn’t handle my drinks, that’s all.”

Though he replied in a bored tone, Seo-hyun’s expression didn’t soften. Seeing this, Jinwoo’s curiosity got the better of him, and he jumped into the conversation.

“Why? How was it her fault that he got drunk?”

“Oh, there was this crazy guy yesterday who kept pushing drinks on me, and Seungjoo ended up drinking them for me.”

That was the real reason Seungjoo had gotten so drunk last night. A senior from their department had kept forcing drinks on Seo-hyun, and Seungjoo had eventually intervened. Fortunately, other seniors had soon taken that guy away, but by then, Seungjoo had already downed more than enough.

“Wow, you really took one for the team!”

“It wasn’t like that.”

Seungjoo dismissed Jinwoo’s comment, grabbing the tongs from him. He had intervened because Seo-hyun looked uncomfortable, but in the end, he’d been the one unable to control his drinking. It was far too embarrassing to be called “cool” or “selfless” for that.

“So, did you black out and end up not getting home safely?”

“No, that’s not it…”

“Apparently, he made some mistake with someone he knows on the way home.”

“Oh dear.”

Two sympathetic glances turned in his direction, accompanied by a cautious question.

“Is that hyung really mad…?”

“…No, he’s not someone who’d get angry over something like this.”

An angry Muheun? He’d never seen such a thing. Even if Seungjoo, drunk, had slapped him, he probably wouldn’t have gotten mad. After all, wasn’t it a trait of those from next door to let things slide no matter what?

“Hey, if you don’t make mistakes at twenty, then when will you? It’s fine, it’s fine. Eat up and let it go.”

Jinwoo’s words weren’t very comforting, especially coming from another twenty-year-old. Seungjoo placed the meat on the now-clean grill with a sigh, silently thinking of a line he couldn’t share with either Jinwoo or Seohyun.

‘The problem is that it’s not the first time…’

January 1st, the day he turned twenty. They had toasted with champagne Muheun had brought from next door to celebrate becoming adults. That night, Seungjoo had made a mistake similar to the one last night, right in front of the two identical gates, with a slight buzz.

‘Seungjoo really needs to stop drinking.’

It had all started so simply, nothing more than that. He’d just had a few sips of champagne, gone a bit over his limit for the first time. And then, just as he’d decided he should stop drinking, Muheun had taken his glass away, leaving him feeling a bit slighted.

‘Seungjoo’s a lightweight, huh.’

‘It’s you guys who are strong.’

Unfortunately, Seungjoo was the only one who got tipsy that night. Muheun barely drank, and Kim Muryeong and the other guy had scary constitutions that prevented them from ever getting drunk. In a village of one-eyed people, the two-eyed man would seem abnormal; Seungjoo, an ordinary person, had no choice in the matter.

‘Just stay over. It’s already past your bedtime.’

Normally, he’d have already been asleep by then, and he blinked drowsily, fighting off sleepiness. As he half-heartedly ignored Muryeong’s suggestion to stay over, Muheun began clearing the table, saying he’d take him home in a bit. It was only next door, so there was no need for him to escort him, but as usual, that overprotectiveness was an issue.

‘Seungjoo, let’s go home.’

Of course, Seungjoo sat quietly, waiting for Muheun to say that. It wasn’t for any particular reason; even if he’d insisted on going alone, Muheun wouldn’t have listened. Better to endure a bit of inconvenience than hear a long lecture.

‘Oppa’s leaving, Seolgi.’

That’s when the second problem arose. Seeing Seolgi whimpering and clinging, Muheun knelt down on one knee and gave her a kiss. Watching that tender, affectionate act, Seungjoo suddenly felt an emotion he’d never experienced before.

‘What about me, Seolgi?’

It was the first time he realized how potent jealousy could be. Was it envy? Or perhaps a sense of being left out? He couldn’t believe he felt such things toward that small (not that small) and smart creature. Though Seolgi quickly trotted over and rested her paw on Seungjoo’s chin, he still felt shaken, even as he stroked her soft fur.

‘Happy New Year to both of you.’

‘…Same to you.’

He zipped his coat all the way up, trying to hide his face. Otherwise, sharp-eyed Muryeong might notice something. That’s why he’d quickly responded to Muryeong’s New Year greeting and left the entrance ahead of Muheun.

‘Aren’t you going with hyung?’

But Muheun, being tall, also happened to have a quick stride. Before he’d crossed half the yard, Seungjoo was already walking beside him. As they crossed the yard with stepping stones like a stone bridge, Muheun chuckled softly.

‘Our Seungjoo has such a mild drinking habit… no need to worry even if he gets drunk outside.’

‘…You sound like a parent.’

‘Well, I’m not entirely wrong.’

It would have been nice if his feelings were just directed at Muheun’s neglect of him in favor of Seolgi. But the feelings that welled up as he grew tipsy were, unfortunately, far more complex. So he ended up walking all the way to his doorstep with a sullen face, only to be struck by a strange sensation when Muheun turned to say goodbye.

‘Hyung, I’ll head off.’

‘…….’

Was he really going to leave like that? Like he always did, escorting him to his doorstep and then disappearing without a trace. After stirring up ripples in his quiet heart, he’d just leave and not return until those feelings had settled down again.

He was the one who’d ultimately made him hate the feeling of waiting, and in the end, even the feelings he held for him.

‘…Hyung.’

It was an impulse, nothing more, nothing less. He’d been annoyed that, despite all his overprotectiveness, he never seemed to regret leaving. Annoyed that he’d shared so many affectionate goodbyes with Seolgi but only offered him a word before turning away.

‘Why don’t you…’

He still remembered the look of confusion on Muheun’s face. The moment he took a step closer, grabbed his collar, pulled him down, and saw his eyes widen, Seungjoo simply lifted himself on his toes.

‘…….’

‘…….’

What did he feel at the moment their lips met? For a brief second, he worried if he reeked of alcohol. As the winter chill swirled around him, he thought their kiss felt empty. They used to give each other pecks like this years ago, but as time went by, other emotions crept in.

The kiss itself happened in a flash, yet the moment of parting felt as though it stretched on forever. He wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but it certainly wasn’t brief. Despite his nervousness, he tried hard to act as if nothing happened.

‘…Happy New Year.’

* * *

Before Muheun could respond, Seungjoo had already slipped inside, leaving him there. Right in front of the door that closed with a loud slam, he sank down, covering his mouth with his hand as his cheeks burned and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

‘Ha.’

He realized he’d made a mistake. He had just bared the feelings he’d been hiding for so long to his friend’s older brother, someone he’d known all his life. Nothing was more annoying than a ruined relationship.

It didn’t take much sense to realize that wasn’t the kind of kiss they used to share as kids.

‘Damn it…’

Cursing wouldn’t change a thing. The water was already spilled, the chicken cooked, the card played; there was no taking it back.

That night, unusually, he didn’t fall asleep right away, tossing and turning for a long time—though it was only about twenty minutes. For someone like Seungjoo, who usually fell asleep the instant his head hit the pillow, this was unusual. As he closed his eyes and opened them, morning had arrived, and his thoughts had already turned to how he’d face going next door.

In the end, Seungjoo’s worries were solved without much effort. The reason was simple: Muheun rarely visited his family’s home. Since they’d turned ten, they only saw each other every few months, so chances of an awkward encounter were low.

“Sigh…”

He had made another mistake with Muheun. Once, he could have brushed it off as though it didn’t happen, but twice—he could no longer ignore it.

He could shamelessly pretend nothing was wrong, but an inexplicable sense of unease crept in. It wasn’t anxiety about their relationship; rather, it was a fear of himself—that if it happened twice, a third time might not be far off.

“Seungjoo, you’re really not drinking?”

“Uh… you two drink without me.”

Rejecting the glass Jinwoo offered, Seungjoo sighed once again. He thought he’d already buried these feelings, so he couldn’t understand why they were surfacing now. Blaming it all on the useless alcohol, Seungjoo flipped the sizzling meat on the grill.

* * *

The drinking session that began at the BBQ restaurant finally ended after moving to a nearby pub. Seungjoo didn’t drink a drop, while Jinwoo and Seohyun got tipsy and dragged Seungjoo to a convenience store, insisting on eating ice cream.

Each holding a popsicle in their mouths, they sniffled in the chilly March breeze for thirty minutes. As Jinwoo, a smoker, quickly pulled out a cigarette, Seohyun immediately ordered a taxi on his phone.

“See you both on Monday.”

“Yeah, get home safe.”

While Seohyun got into the taxi, Jinwoo, in the middle of his second cigarette, just waved his hand. Seungjoo closed the backseat door for Seohyun, seeing him off and making a mental note of the license plate before the taxi left.

“Do you really not have a girlfriend?”

“…?”

Watching him, Jinwoo asked casually. When Seungjoo turned around with a puzzled expression, Jinwoo shrugged, flicking his cigarette butt into the trash. “I don’t.”

At that brief response, Jinwoo looked even more puzzled.

“Why don’t you…?”

“What do you mean, why?”

If he had to answer why, he wouldn’t know where to begin. But Jinwoo seemed to think differently, frowning as he trailed off.

“No, you just seem like you’d get into a relationship quickly.”

“Why would I?”

It felt like pointless chatter. In his younger, more naive days, he might start dating someone after getting a bit close, but those were just childish flings. At some point, he started rejecting confessions, drawing a line to keep things from progressing beyond friendship.

“No one you’re flirting with?”

“Nope. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Aw, you’re no fun. What about someone you like?”

“Would I?”

Though he replied firmly, Jinwoo kept asking similar questions, eventually even asking if Seungjoo was interested in Seohyun. This time, Seungjoo firmly covered Jinwoo’s mouth, telling him to stop with the nonsense. He reeked of alcohol, and Seungjoo realized it was probably the alcohol making him this persistent.

“Agh, you drunken mess.”

“Seungjoo… Should us guys go for a third round?”

“No, idiot. I’m going home.”

After another thirty minutes of fending off Jinwoo’s clinging, Seungjoo finally got him into a taxi. Sighing and looking even more exhausted than before, Seungjoo shook off his coat. The strong cigarette smell from being around Jinwoo had seeped into his clothes.

“Ugh.”

Could a day be this draining? From the moment he’d opened his eyes that morning, he hadn’t had a moment’s peace. Ending the day quickly was best, but after lingering for so long, night had already settled in.

Leaving a message for his parents that he was on his way, Seungjoo turned toward home. Though it was a bit far to walk, he wasn’t inclined to take a taxi like Seohyun and Jinwoo had. Since he didn’t particularly mind walking, he decided to stroll leisurely and get some fresh air.

* * *

Navigating his way through the alleys and finally emerging onto a main road at an intersection, Seungjoo stepped into the darkness without hesitation. The road was narrow, and only a few lights cast a dim glow, but the occasional rustling sounds didn’t frighten him. As long as he knew it wasn’t a ghost, there was nothing to fear.

“Can’t even see them anyway.”

It’s rare for people to see ghosts. Unlike his neighbors, who have long been in the business of exorcism, Seungjoo’s family had no spiritual abilities, not even the bare minimum to perceive such things.

Because of this, Seungjoo had never seen anything that could be called a “ghost” in his entire life. He knew of their existence from what he’d been told, but as far as he was concerned, anything invisible was as good as nonexistent.

“I don’t even have any spiritual energy…”

This spiritual energy, known as yeonggi, is something people are born with. In particular, the spirit energy inherited by the Seo family is famous for entrancing malevolent spirits.

But Seungjoo didn’t even have a hint of this yeonggi. His case was rare, even among ordinary people, which meant he naturally lived his life far removed from the supernatural.

“…But why is it so dark here?”

Seungjoo stopped in the middle of the alley. The darkness surrounding him was one thing, but a chilling breeze kept brushing against the back of his neck. Maybe it was just the cold weather, but each step seemed to bring goosebumps.

“Feels like a ghost could actually appear.”

With that thought, Seungjoo shook his head and started walking again. If Kim Muryeong had been there, he’d probably have responded with a harmless look, either asking how Seungjoo knew or sincerely explaining that spirits are uncommon and not often found in neighborhoods like this. Either way, it was information he had no interest in.

* * *

Thankfully, contrary to his fears, Seungjoo saw nothing as he left the alley. Something black did dart out at one point, but it was only a stray cat leaping over a wall. Briefly startled, he muttered at the cat for scaring him and took a few pictures before continuing out of the alley.

“Uh…”

When he reached the intersection, he saw a woman standing at the crosswalk. There was nothing particularly unusual about the scene, yet he hesitated for a moment. There was no real reason for it, just an inexplicable chill running down his spine.

“Did I dress too lightly…?”

His shoulders shivered. Catching a cold would turn both households upside down. He could only hope that this chill wasn’t the onset of a cold. Just thinking about all the herbal medicine he’d have to take made his temples throb. Rubbing his arms, Seungjoo slowly approached.

Up close, the woman looked ordinary, despite her strikingly pale complexion. If anything, Gi Hwanyeong, who roomed with Muryeong, looked even paler.

“She needs to get more sleep.”

The recurring feeling of foreboding meant his mental resilience was depleting. Since a clear mind stems from a healthy body, Seungjoo needed to eat well and sleep well for a while. Naturally, alcohol didn’t fall under the scope of “eating well.”

Finally, Seungjoo lost interest in the person beside him and focused on the traffic light glowing red. Once he crossed this road, he’d just have to follow the well-lit main street to reach home.

As he thought about getting home to sleep as soon as possible, Seungjoo yawned, covering his mouth.

“…?”

The person beside him stepped forward onto the crosswalk. The light was still red, and a truck was fast approaching from a distance. Before Seungjoo could call out, the woman took another step forward.

“Hey, what are you…!”

Though Seungjoo rarely meddled in others’ affairs, he couldn’t ignore the scene unfolding before him. He quickly reached out, but unfortunately, he couldn’t grab her arm. His outstretched hand grasped only air, causing him to lose his balance and stumble towards the road.

‘Wow, what is this?’

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. The truck, which he thought was still far away, was suddenly upon him, its headlights glaring straight at him. The loud honking echoed across the road.

This was it; he was going to die. Sensing it instinctively, Seungjoo squeezed his eyes shut.

“…Ack!”

A strong hand grabbed him firmly by the scruff of his neck. With a force that didn’t feel human, it yanked Seungjoo’s falling body back to the sidewalk in an instant. Just as his muffled ears cleared, he felt solid arms wrap around him from behind.

“…I had a feeling.”

The voice was familiar. Low and gentle, the kind of voice that eased tension if you listened long enough. It carried a faint, breezy scent—familiar yet slightly cool. There was an unusual energy he had never felt before, and a quiet voice hovered beside his head.

“I had a bad feeling.”

“…”

A loud truck zoomed past, barely missing him, and the driver angrily pressed the horn a few more times. Amid the obnoxious honking, Seungjoo let out a shaky laugh, the sigh of relief escaping his lips.

“…Ha.”

The person behind him supported his weakened legs. The fact that he was now in their embrace and trembling all over didn’t matter. Seungjoo blankly looked forward.

Standing in the middle of the road, the woman he’d tried to save just moments before was looking back at him expressionlessly.

* * *

After the weekend, the school was filled with the lively atmosphere typical of March. Like fresh sprouts newly emerging, clusters of students crossed the campus, each heading to their own destination. Naturally, for most students, those destinations were either home or a bar.

“…”

In the middle of it all, Seungjoo stood in front of a vending machine, one hand in his pocket, staring intensely at it. He’d already put in the money, and the button glowed white, reminiscent of headlights illuminating a pitch-black road. The light was searingly bright, as vivid as that unforgettable moment.

“Haunted by a ghost…”

He muttered softly, clenching his fist. His hand brushed against a piece of paper in his pocket. As he fiddled with its edge between his thumb and forefinger, a strange, clear energy came over him. It reminded him of Kim Muryeong, who had made the talisman, with its pure and refreshing aura.

So that was why it felt cold—turns out it wasn’t just the temperature. The sudden realization made him frown. His eyebrows creased, almost forming a character, and despite the threat of wrinkles, it was hard to relax his expression.

“Hoo…”

“Seungjoo!”

Someone tapped Seungjoo on the arm. Startled, he turned around, only to see that the person was even more startled by his reaction. Recognizing the familiar face, he clicked his tongue, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“Ah… Kim Seohyun, you scared me.”

It was Seohyun. Seohyun, looking bewildered, didn’t expect him to be this jumpy and said in a confused voice,

“What? You’re the one who scared me more. Feeling guilty?”

“Would I be?”

Seungjoo let out a sigh, responding nonchalantly. It was Monday afternoon, all classes were done, and he’d just wanted to grab a drink before heading home. He wasn’t even that thirsty—it was just… he felt a bit unsettled.

As the saying goes, once bitten, twice shy. He was aware that he was overreacting.

“So, why did you call me?”

“Oh, we’re going out to eat, and you were just standing here, so…”

As Seohyun said, his friends weren’t far away. Since they were all classmates, Seungjoo gave them a quick nod of acknowledgment. Then, Seohyun noticed the illuminated vending machine and tilted his head.

“Getting a drink? I’ll have a coffee.”

He was joking, but Seungjoo, without a word, bought him a coffee. As Seohyun took the can, his eyes widened.

“Oh? Really?”

“Don’t take it if you don’t want it.”

“Wow, thanks.”

With Seohyun holding his can, Seungjoo inserted another bill into the vending machine. He thought about getting coffee but opted for a sports drink instead, thinking coffee might just make him thirstier. Seeing Seungjoo chug the drink, Seohyun openly admired him.

“Wow, you must’ve been thirsty. So, you wanna go drinking too?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

It was a casual invitation, but Seungjoo wasn’t interested. He let out an amused scoff, crumpling the can and tossing it into the trash.

“You guys go without me. I’m heading home.”

“Aw, but it’s more fun with more people.”

Seohyun, like Jinu, was one of the first friends Seungjoo made in college. They met during orientation, and since they shared a few classes, they naturally became friends. To be precise, they bonded quickly over ranting about overbearing seniors.

“Really not joining? If you’re in, I’ll even call Choi Jinu.”

“Not joining, even if Jinu comes.”

Whether Jinu came or not, Seungjoo had no intention of drinking. Seohyun seemed to understand and didn’t press further, though he looked disappointed. He gestured to his friends and then casually followed Seungjoo, who was now walking.

“Did you get home alright on Saturday?”

“…”

Seungjoo stopped in his tracks. The mention of “Saturday” brought back a worry he had almost forgotten.

The traffic light that had been red all along, the cars speeding down the road even in the dead of night, the trembling of his fingertips, and the mature voice that settled in his ear.

‘Seems like…’

“……”

‘Your yeongan has opened.’

There’s a thing called

yeongan

(靈眼)—the eye that sees, in other words, the ability to see ghosts. It’s a power that ordinary people shouldn’t have, something only a few are capable of handling.

Most people are born with

yeongi

(spiritual energy), but not everyone ends up with an open

yeongan

. The stronger the

yeongi

, or the “more intense” one’s spirit is, the higher the likelihood. Even then, only those with mastery over their

yeongi

, known as spiritual practitioners, can properly perceive shapes.

In that sense, Seungjoo was someone who, unless the sky came crashing down, would never see even a hint of a ghost in his life. No amount of force would bring out

yeongi

, and without

yeongi

, his

yeongan

couldn’t open. Unable even to sense the faintest of presences, he’d assumed that, if ghosts existed, they were no concern of his.

‘……’

Or so he’d thought.

‘…Damn.’

He remembered the chill that had crawled down his spine. The image of the woman who, though no different from a living person, remained standing without a scratch after being hit by a car. Her unfocused eyes met his, her expressionless face looking so mannequin-like it was eerie.

‘Why….’

Why could he see her? He didn’t even get to finish saying it. His voice caught mid-sentence, and it sounded close to tears.

Muheun, somehow understanding what Seungjoo had been trying to say, responded in his usual soft voice.

‘It’s because my yeongi transferred to you, Seungjoo.’

Muheun, a spiritual practitioner who had lived next door to Seungjoo for a good 20 years, had said something that struck Seungjoo like lightning from a clear sky. He was so shocked he felt his mind go blank for a moment. Muheun pulled him in tightly, softening his voice as if to soothe a startled animal.

‘It’s okay… Don’t worry.’

‘…….’

The only thing that snapped Seungjoo out of it was that whisper. Not because it was reassuring, but because the way his gentle voice brushed over him felt oddly suggestive. Late to realize, he thought of the various ways

yeongi

could be transferred.

Seungjoo finally pulled away from Muheun, albeit slowly. He wanted to shove him off, but feared the embarrassment if he fell over. Luckily, Muheun let him go easily and began explaining calmly as soon as Seungjoo stood up straight.

‘It’s probably just a temporary phenomenon. Usually, it should close back up within half a day…’

Muheun glanced down at Seungjoo. His gaze softened momentarily, but soon he knit his brows, speaking with a tinge of regret.

‘But for you, it’ll take longer.’

‘…….’

He couldn’t very well ask why it would take longer. He merely held back his frustration and swallowed down the curses threatening to escape as he ignored the many possible reasons popping into his head. Watching him, Muheun finally murmured in his familiar low tone.

‘I’ll take responsibility.’

‘…For what exactly?’

Responsibility. It was a strangely ominous word. Caution flared up on Seungjoo’s face, but Muheun just smiled lazily.

‘Well, taking back the yeongi isn’t an option…’

The moment their eyes met, Seungjoo instinctively took a step back. Muheun, noticing the hesitation, smiled reassuringly.

‘I’ll protect you until your yeongan closes again.’

Muheun’s hand approached slowly, stopping just in front of Seungjoo’s face, as if shielding his eyes. Through the gaps between his fingers, Seungjoo could clearly see the curve of Muheun’s lips lifting in a smirk.

‘It’d be troublesome if something like tonight happened again.’

It sounded like a warning that such incidents might repeat. Since Muheun occasionally glimpsed the future, he might have seen another possibility. Knowing that, Seungjoo couldn’t bring himself to argue and simply stared blankly.

‘Just hold on a moment.’

With that, Muheun walked toward the woman still standing in the street. He murmured something to her, but when she didn’t respond, he seemed to consider his next move.

Then Muheun, after glancing back at Seungjoo, reached into his pocket and took out a talisman.

‘…….’

Seungjoo knew instinctively that it was different from the ones he carried. The energy it emitted was distinct, and the characters on the yellow paper were much more complex.

Was he going to exorcise her with it? His curiosity was quickly replaced by awe as blue flames sprang from the talisman Muheun held between his fingers.

‘…Whoa.’

It was less a sound of amazement than one of resignation. He’d seen plenty of talismans before, but this was the first time he’d seen flames ignite from nothing.

‘Seungjoo.’

Unbothered by the flames, Muheun turned to look at him, calm as ever. When Seungjoo stared in a daze, Muheun spoke gently, as if soothing a child.

‘Close your eyes and count to 100.’

‘…….’

The tone bruised his pride, but Seungjoo obediently closed his eyes. He had no intention of counting, planning to wait until Muheun said it was fine. Knowing Muheun rarely spoke without reason, he figured there was a purpose in telling him not to look.

After a while, he heard a creak from somewhere. The sound was of old, rusty hinges, not something you’d expect in the middle of a city street.

‘It’s been a while.’

When Muheun spoke those words, Seungjoo couldn’t help but clamp his hands over his ears. Whatever was happening, he didn’t want to know.

The surrounding sounds eventually quieted, and then a high-pitched whistle sliced through the silence.

Followed by a long, echoing creak… and then a thud.

‘…….’

What kind of door just closed? Seungjoo knew Muheun was finished, but he stayed still, only managing to open his eyes once a cautious hand touched his wrist.

‘Were you scared?’

He didn’t bother answering the playful question. Ignoring Muheun felt natural by now, and the soft smile that Muheun gave in response showed he was used to it, too. Behind him, the woman’s form had vanished.

As Seungjoo glanced around uneasily, Muheun spoke in the gentlest tone.

‘Let’s go. I’ll walk you home.’

The way home wasn’t as frightening as he had thought. Perhaps he was already too shocked, or maybe it was because Muheun was beside him. It was probably the latter, though he wasn’t keen on admitting it.

“…About what you said earlier—taking responsibility.”

Seungjoo, who had been silent the whole time, finally spoke up when they reached his doorstep. Muheun, who had been equally quiet, turned his gaze to Seungjoo at last. Seungjoo narrowed his brows slightly, hesitating as he spoke.

“Exactly how are you planning to do that? If… a ghost appears again, like today.”

There were so many words he didn’t want to say—responsibility, protection, ghosts, and so on. Not because he was afraid, just that they were unsettling. Really.

“Sending them on their way, like today, is a bit…”

“Are you scared?”

“No. It just takes a long time.”

Muheun chuckled softly at his answer, clearly not buying it. Seungjoo, accustomed to being treated like a child, raised his eyebrows as if to urge him to continue.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you won’t encounter them.”

“…Can you really do that?”

Even though Seungjoo had lived his life without seeing ghosts, he knew there were plenty of them. His friend Muryeong had been so haunted by them in high school that he could barely sleep. Until now, he had pretended they didn’t exist, but now that he could see them, ignoring them was no longer an option.

Muheun, however, responded with confidence.

“Seungjoo, I’m an exorcist.”

Yes, Kim Muheun was an exorcist. To be precise, he was a “gwimae-catcher,” someone who sealed away gwimae. He had trained as an exorcist since childhood, and at twenty, he officially joined the association as an exorcist. For the past ten years, he’d traveled across the country, reportedly to hunt gwimae.

“You know spirits are drawn to spiritual energy, right?”

Seungjoo nodded. Spiritual energy symbolized the purity of a soul, so resentful spirits often clung to the energy of the living. If they hadn’t yet turned into evil spirits, it was manageable. But those who had lost their sanity would attack the living without hesitation.

“But even spirits that haven’t passed on still have basic instincts. Usually, they fear the energy of an exorcist.”

Muheun added that it was a survival instinct. Seungjoo already knew this in theory; growing up in his family, he had some knowledge of exorcism.

“Whenever you go somewhere, I’ll take you. As long as I don’t suppress my presence on purpose, they won’t show themselves.”

“So you’re saying I won’t run into them at all?”

“Hmm.”

He thought Muheun would answer right away, but he hesitated briefly. His narrowed eyes lowered slightly.

“Mostly?”

“…”

A vague answer. There seemed to be something he couldn’t fully guarantee. He was someone who wouldn’t make promises unless he was absolutely sure.

“But you won’t be in any danger, Seungjoo. That’s a promise.”

“…Well.”

He didn’t need the promise to know he was sincere. After all, there was a promise between their families, and Muheun had always been responsible since they were young.

And, perhaps, a bit of guilt might be mixed in there.

“So don’t worry too much.”

Muheun smiled faintly and patted the back of Seungjoo’s head. Though he didn’t want to admit it, having someone protect him was something Seungjoo was very used to. Just because he was used to it didn’t mean he wasn’t weary of it.

“But Seungjoo.”

As they neared the front gate, Muheun softly called Seungjoo’s name. Before he could answer, Muheun stepped in front of him and leaned down. Reflexively, Seungjoo went to cover his mouth, but Muheun’s face was aimed even lower.

“What… what the hell are you doing?”

He got goosebumps as Muheun sniffed the back of his neck. When Seungjoo pushed his shoulder away in shock, Muheun obediently straightened up, giving a light laugh with a playful squint of his eyes.

“Calling it gross…”

It seemed like he was trying to act hurt, though he didn’t look it at all. He almost seemed to enjoy Seungjoo’s discomfort.

As Seungjoo rubbed the spot where Muheun’s breath had touched, Muheun threw an unexpected question at him.

“Can you use a lighter yet?”

“A lighter?”

What was with the lighter? Seungjoo quickly shook his head, suddenly serious. He wondered if he needed it to ward off ghosts. If so, he was more than willing to learn right away.

“Is that so?”

But Muheun only smiled in satisfaction at his answer, his eyes softening kindly as he murmured.

“I hope you never learn.”

“….”

Was he mocking him for not knowing how to use a lighter? Although he felt slightly toyed with, he couldn’t snap back. He knew that Muheun would only enjoy his reaction more.

Without a word, Muheun opened the front gate for him with a satisfied look.

“See you tomorrow.”

Surprisingly, it was a farewell he hadn’t heard in a long time. Unlike usual, it implied they’d meet again soon.

After a brief silence, Seungjoo responded with a hint of exasperation.

“I’m not going anywhere tomorrow.”

It was Sunday tomorrow, so he had no plans to go out. Unless Muryeong called him out for a meal, Seungjoo usually stayed at home on weekends. And even when he did go next door, he made sure to return before sunset.

“I don’t have any plans to drink for a while either, so I’ll call you if I need anything. Besides, I don’t go out much at night…”

So he didn’t need to go out of his way to accompany him every time. It felt burdensome and unnecessary, something he could manage on his own without making a fuss.

Yes, he thought so.

“Ghosts come out during the day too.”

“…”

Seungjoo’s mouth shut tight. Muheun continued calmly, his expression unchanged.

“It’s rare, but yes. Ghosts that roam during the day often have stronger yin energy. They’re usually evil spirits, or ones on the verge of becoming one. Having been dead for so long, they’re no longer human in appearance. Are you really okay with that?”

In Korean, "yeongi" (영기) refers to "spiritual energy" or "aura," particularly in the context of exorcism and supernatural concepts.The term "yeongan" (영안, 眼) in Korean refers to "spiritual sight" or "clairvoyance." It is often used in a mystical or supernatural context, describing the ability to see beyond the physical realm, such as seeing ghosts or spirits."Gwimae" (귀매) is a Korean term that refers to a type of evil spirit or supernatural entity. It combines the words "귀" (gwi), meaning "ghost" or "spirit," and "매" (mae), which can denote possession or binding. In certain contexts, "gwimae" can be associated with a malicious or vengeful spirit, sometimes linked to the concept of a restless soul that causes harm or terror.