Chapter 3: The Doctor and the Notary

“Does the navigation in the car only search for new addresses?”

“No, sir. It also shows old ones. But a Notary Public office? Are you sure this address is correct?”

“Only the signboard says that. They don’t actually do that work. They wouldn’t know the first thing about notary work.”

“…I don’t like the feel of this.”

“Think of it as a savior, a savior. If they’re a savior, what does it matter if it’s a Notary Public office or city hall?”

I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I wonder if I’ve been possessed by a ghost without realizing it. I’m going to a place I don’t even know to use as a hideout.

Even in this situation, my reason and instinct are gradually separating, and the former is disappearing. Instinct creates impulses. As my sleep-deprived body reaches its limit, I’m becoming more obsessed with what I lack. I want to sleep. Why do I have to live like this?

“Oh, by the way, there’s something you need to prepare.”

“What is it?”

“A copy of your resume.”

“What? Why a resume?”

“How should I know? If I tell you to bring it, you bring it. I’ve already bought the form.”

I’ve only ever written a resume for an internship. What reason could there possibly be for asking for a resume from someone who’s temporarily relocating because they can’t sleep due to ghosts? My distrust is growing.

“Is this enough?”

“Ah. There’s one more thing.”

“What is it now?”

Father Peter, who had been slurping down his coffee like beef rib soup, put down his cup and flashed a mischievous smile that didn’t suit his age.

“Mental preparation.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That guy… he takes after someone, and he’s got a terrible attitude.”

Maybe it would be easier to deal with ghosts and snakes instead. Jeong Eun-gyu’s hand, clutching the resume form, trembled slightly.

An hour and a half from Seoul. The address Father Peter gave wasn’t that far. For an address that started with a ‘road’ and ended in a ‘ri,’ it was close enough to be considered a suburb. But when driving on the bumpy asphalt at the entrance of Mugwang-ri, which was partly unpaved, he couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh.

-You have arrived at your destination. Route guidance is ending.

After parking on the roadside following the mechanical navigation guide, Jeong Eun-gyu got out and saw only one old, dilapidated building before him.

There were patches where the exterior cement had fallen off, and it looked so flimsy that it seemed like it might collapse if a typhoon came. Moreover, the sign for ‘Seonil Notary Public Office’ registered on the navigation wasn’t even hung.

Aside from this building, every other structure was single-story. It was essentially just a rural town. The landscape was desolate and out of place in many ways.

It seemed close to the mountain. A brown signboard erected near the building had a straight arrow and the words ‘Road to Mugwangsan.’ He looked straight ahead. The large mountain immediately visible must be Mugwangsan.

…Of all places, near a mountain. Jeong Eun-gyu tapped the toe of his dress shoe on the frozen ground. He still couldn’t tell if he had made the right choice. He hated mountains.

Jeong Eun-gyu grew up in the mountains. He grew up in the mountains and saw every horrible thing imaginable there, then experienced his first downfall in life. That was when he was just six years old.

Mountains only held horrific memories for him, yet he voluntarily returned to one. Because he encountered a similar incident in the city he had fled to. The place he ran to for refuge from the worst, hoping for a lesser evil, had instead brought back the worst. Even the mere presence of that large mountain made him feel like a tiny speck.

That aside, why was it so quiet? Even for a rural town, there wasn’t a single person around.

“Excuse me, but how did you find us?”

A gentle voice came from behind. He turned around. A man with a buzz cut and a large build repeated his question when Jeong Eun-gyu hesitated. This time, the question was different.

“Who introduced you to our office?”

Only then did Jeong Eun-gyu give a slight bow and answer.

“Father Peter sent me.”

“Ah, Father. I received word. Please come in. The representative is out for a moment.”

Representative? The office is run out of a building with no sign and on the verge of collapse? His thought circuits were spinning busily, but severe sleep deprivation made his mind sluggish. So he could only nod.

“Ah, is it okay to park here? I couldn’t find a parking lot.”

“Yes. This is the countryside, so they don’t give tickets. Tourists are rare, so few cars pass by. As long as you’re not in the middle of the road, it’s fine.”

“Yes.”

“I’m Team Leader Kim Seok-ho. Feel free to call me Team Leader Kim or just my name. I heard you’re Professor Jeong Eun-gyu? Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

Pushing open the squeaky glass door, which seemed unoiled, revealed a set of old stairs. Between the steps, an acrylic panel read ‘Second Floor – Green Piano Academy.’ Strangely, the interior was spotless, without a speck of dust. He thought they must be diligent about maintenance.

“So there’s a piano academy too?”

“Huh? Haha. Yes, it was here before we took over. Now it’s just us.”

Well… no one even passes by, so how could an academy be operating properly?

Following Kim Seok-ho up to the second floor, he saw a door that was quite different from the entrance. Compared to the entrance, it was an imposing double door that naturally made one think ‘sophisticated.’ There were three vertical digital door locks.

Kim Seok-ho scanned his fingerprints in order, then turned around and smiled at Jeong Eun-gyu, who wore a dubious expression.

“You might be a bit surprised.”

Before he could ask ‘About what?,’ the door opened first. And as Kim Seok-ho had said, Jeong Eun-gyu wasn’t just a bit surprised—he was utterly astonished.

Contrary to the exterior, the interior was completely different. The marble floor and the spacious area that could only be described as vast resembled not an office but the lavish interiors of a rich family’s home or a hotel’s royal suite, like something out of a drama.

LED lights and chandeliers harmonized subtly, emitting a suitable brightness. The large TV on the wall and leather sofa evoked the chairman’s office.

There wasn’t even a common partition, despite it being an office. To Jeong Eun-gyu’s left seemed to be for reception and consultation, and to the right appeared to be the work environment. The cables of the desktop PCs were neatly tied with cable ties, giving a tidy feel.

Kim Seok-ho, as if anticipating the reaction of the captivated Jeong Eun-gyu, puffed out his chest.

“Everyone is surprised when they first come here. Hahaha. Please have a seat. What kind of tea would you like?”

“…I’m fine. I’ve already had something.”

He was dazed. ‘Twist’ was the word that came to mind. Even when he was called to the hospital director’s office with Professor Min for a VIP patient surgery, he wasn’t this surprised. Had Father Peter ever been here?

“Did you bring your resume, by any chance?”

“Yes.”

Kim Seok-ho took the resume file that Jeong Eun-gyu handed over, sat down, and the only sound was the tapping of a keyboard. Jeong Eun-gyu sat upright, staring blankly out the tightly closed window.

A mountain. No matter where he looked, there was a mountain. A shrill scream seemed to ring in his ears like tinnitus. His eyelids were heavy.

“Would you like me to play some music since it’s quiet?”

“Ah, no. Please don’t mind me and just work comfortably.”

Just then. A sound came of the digital locks unlocking one after another. Ah, he’s here. Kim Seok-ho, who had been focused on the monitor, rose. Jeong Eun-gyu’s head also turned toward the slightly open double door. A man, disproportionately large for a crouching position, was squatting down and examining something.

“What the hell is this? Why is this crap on the stairs?”

When he stood up, he was very tall. His back view seemed oddly familiar. First, his suit fit him perfectly, as if tailored. From the neatly trimmed hairstyle revealing the nape of his neck to the sharp jawline visible in profile.

Before he knew it, Jeong Eun-gyu had approached and stood behind the man. He wondered what ‘this crap’ was, but what was trampled under the dress shoes was a black, shapeless mass. The crushed mass writhed relentlessly.

He had seen it before. It was one of those things he had seen constantly as a child. His mother used to say that things that had turned into black masses like this were ‘gone to the point of no return.’ They were ‘clumps of evil’ that, unable to be destroyed by exorcists or shamans, wandered and attached themselves to people like parasites, devouring their souls.

And that man stepped on such a mass with ease.

“Looks like it followed the guest in.”

Kim Seok-ho, seemingly used to such scenes, whistled and shuffled his slippers. The man, hands shoved into his trouser pockets, replied in a bored tone.

“A guest?”

“He says Father Peter sent him.”

“Why send him? I’m already busy as hell.”

As if stubbing out a half-smoked cigarette, he ground the mass under the toe of his shoe. The mass then smoked up and vanished without a trace.

Suddenly reduced from guest to a nuisance, Jeong Eun-gyu’s eyes met the man’s. Right before him was the face of the man who had caught and crushed a ghost to death with his cauldron-like hands, despite his handsome features. He never expected such a reunion.

“We meet again, huh? The doctor who was going around with a blank look.”

That bastard’s presumptuous tone was the same as ever. If he’s going to speak formally, speak formally; if he’s going to speak informally, speak informally. That half-honorific style was exactly the kind he detested. Unlike with Kim Seok-ho, Jeong Eun-gyu refrained from bowing stiffly.

A business card was handed to him. An elegant card reading ‘Ahn Dae-young, Representative of Seonil Notary Public Office.’ The front was fine… but the back was so glossy it seemed gold-plated. If he put it in his wallet, it would stand out so much that he’d unconsciously pull it out every time he looked for a card.

If that’s the case, it would be better to omit the company name from the card. Not a single notary office Jeong Eun-gyu had encountered used such a card.

While he was looking at the useless back of the card, Ahn Dae-young was flipping through the resume he had brought. He wore a sullen expression the whole time, as if something displeased him.

“Is this all?”

He tossed the resume onto the table dismissively, as if the neat handwriting on the form meant nothing.

Jeong Eun-gyu, about to put the card into his wallet, stopped and glared at Ahn Dae-young in indignation. He wanted to throw this card away too, but he was an adult trained in courtesy, so he held it in.