Midday Guest Chapter 17

Words that felt close to commands dug into Yiwon’s ears. Yiwon assumed those words were directed at him. However, what caught Yiwon’s footsteps as he was about to say his goodbyes and leave was the sound of Oh Taesik and Ma Haeyoung’s vigorous response.

“Yes, Director.”

The employees who had followed down the stairs all bowed their waists in unison. Cha Seokjoo turned the corner immediately, and Yiwon, held by his hand, had no choice but to follow.

Yiwon stared vacantly over the shoulder of Cha Seokjoo, who was walking ahead. Before he knew it, the alleyway was submerged in complete darkness.

The moment the pitch-black abyss swallowed them whole, Yiwon checked his surroundings. It was a day where the flashing lights of the police car visible beyond the corner kept making him look back.

☼

Due to the incident at the mill, the village atmosphere froze over like winter.

In the meantime, all scheduled village events were canceled. Instead, a Jinogwi-gut—a shamanic ritual to pray for the deceased to reach a good place—was held.

‘Please, go to a good place.’

Colorful strips of cloth hung in clusters from the old ancient tree at the entrance of the village. Most of the village elders used to spend the sweltering summer here. At the spot where they would usually play Go or set up a light drinking table, talk about the ritual taking place in the front yard of the Yonggung-ri community center was leaking out.

“Is the lady from the mill still acting like that?”

“Yeah, they say she’ll be that way for the time being. It’s said that once the police investigation is over, Mister Park’s eldest son will take over and settle things.”

“I see.”

“It’s just Mister Park who ended up being pitiful. He died after working his whole life without ever even getting to touch proper money.”

They were all agreeing that he was a man who had done nothing but work diligently for decades, but the atmosphere began to shift rapidly starting from a grumble voiced by Mister Kim from the supermarket, who had been close to Mister Park.

“Work, my foot. Don’t you know the mess that house is in right now?”

“Why? Did somethin’ happen?”

“Goodness, it looks like you haven’t heard a thing, brother. It’s ‘cause Mister Park was gamblin’ that things ended up like that.”

“Gambling? Mister Park?”

“Me and you are both caught up in it, and it’s a real headache.”

“Oh my, this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Once the words started coming out, another elder who had been sitting by with his mouth shut finally began to unpack his bundle of stories.

“The supermarket guy is right. Mister Park came to me too, askin’ to play a game.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he was practically beggin’, sayin’ somethin’ about how if he added one more person the coin recharge would double or whatever… Ugh, don’t even get me started. Both Kim and I couldn’t say no, so we dipped our toes in and now we’re breakin’ out in a cold sweat.”

“Mister Park isn’t the type for that, though.”

“That’s how gamin’ is. Does anyone get that way ‘cause they were born with a gambler’s fate? Once you lose your mind doin’ it, that’s just how it goes. Oh, and get this, Mister Park also…!”

Mister Kim from the supermarket, who was leading the conversation, lowered his voice.

“At first, he said he was doin’ it for fun. Then he got blinded by the game and even borrowed money. And it wasn’t just any borrowin’, he borrowed a massive amount. I found out later he even put the mill up as collateral.”

“Goodness, is that so.”

“Don’t even talk about it. Yesterday, Mister Park’s eldest son saw the real estate register and fainted right there. It looks like it’s a huge headache. Redevelopment is startin’ soon, but he said the land might go to auction. He seemed to be goin’ to consult the village foreman, but even if the King himself came instead of the foreman, there doesn’t seem to be any way to do anything.”

“Is there no way to save it?”

“Usury is still a loan, so where would a way be? And those kinds of guys are, uh, vicious; they’ll squeeze every cent out until the very end.”

“Listenin’ to you, brother, it’s a bit chilly. Talkin’ about loans and such… aren’t there even rumors floatin’ around that Mister Park didn’t commit suicide?”

“It’s the truth. Mister Park has the personality to fight back hard if he has to, but he isn’t the type to turn away like that.”

Mister Kim from the supermarket gulped down a bowl of makgeolli as if his throat were parched. One of the village elders listening to the story filled the empty bowl with makgeolli and patted Kim’s knee.

“Let’s just wait patiently for the police investigation.”

“I just wish the circumstances of what happened would be revealed. So that Mister Park can go on his way in peace.”

“Let’s offer one more prayer before we go. What else is there for us to do but that.”

“Right.”

After the ritual ended, everyone returned to their respective lives. Those who operated boats went out to sea, and those who had to harvest went out to the fields.

Shin Heeyoung left the country for his walking test, and Yiwon guarded Haeundang as always.

There was no sign of Cha Seokjoo.

The evening they ran into each other at the restaurant after coming out of the bathhouse—that was the last day he could be found anywhere.

Several days passed after that.

Yiwon would look at the tightly closed sliding door of the across-room where no guests were coming or going, and occasionally peer outside the main gate.

He heard the sound of wheels rolling once in a while, but most were people coming to deliver packages or mail.

Once the sun set, he left the gate open thinking the man might show up today, but there was no sign of him; it remained exactly as Yiwon had left it until morning.

He wondered if the man didn’t care about wasting a month’s lodging fee. He wondered what kind of busy work had cropped up that he hadn’t shown his face even once. On the other hand, images he couldn’t dare utter aloud were being drawn in his mind.

When he thought about it, the man was someone who had come in just to avoid the rain for a moment. He was someone whose purpose for visiting Yonggung-ri was clear. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps Cha Seokjoo had finished his work and left Yonggung-ri.

He would need to check at least once.

Entering the across-room, he was able to find the man’s belongings without much difficulty. Most were items for daily use, such as clothes to wear indoors, slippers, a laptop, a wristwatch, and document envelopes.

While he was standing there vacantly, lost in thought, strangers came looking for Yiwon.

“Is anyone here?”

Jeans and short-sleeved T-shirts. Two men with sturdy builds full of muscle revealed themselves. With their short-cropped, spiky hair and sharp eyes, they were people whose images were very similar to athletes—no, to the low-life thugs who occasionally appeared in this neighborhood.

Yiwon gripped the phone in his pocket tightly and opened his lips.

“How can I help you?”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kwon Changil, the detective in charge of Yonggung-ri. This is my partner, Detective Yoon Kyungho.”

“…Ah.”

“You are Mr. Jung Yiwon, correct?”

With a sudden wave of relief, he felt incredibly sorry toward the detectives in front of him. There was a limit to misjudging people…. Yiwon apologized in his heart as he welcomed the two detectives.

“That’s right.”

“I have a few things to ask regarding the incident at the mill. Would you have a moment?”

“The incident at the mill… you say.”

“It’s nothing major. We are visiting people whose names were written in the mill owner’s transaction ledger, and I’d like to ask you to answer a few questions. It’s a formal procedure, so you don’t need to feel pressured; you can just speak comfortably.”

“Ah, would you like to come in for a moment?”

“Thank you. Then, excuse us.”

Detective Kwon Changil grabbed the back of his thick neck and bowed his head to Yiwon. As he crossed the gate and entered the yard, he opened his eyes wide and looked down at the distant sea.

“The scenery is truly nice. The yard is pretty, too.”

“Thank you for the kind words.”

“It must be really great to work in a place like this. You can feel all four seasons. We’re often catching and locking up guys who cause trouble every day, so there are many times we don’t even know how the seasons are passing.”

Yiwon smiled silently. Not knowing how the seasons were passing was the same for Yiwon. Since he was so busy working while looking only at the ground that he had no leisure to enjoy them, the detective and Yiwon were one and the same.

He offered them seats on the wooden veranda and brought out cold barley tea. The two detectives emptied their glasses in one shot and simultaneously made a keuh sound. The T-shirts of the two men, who must have been walking the alleyways of Yonggung-ri on a hot day, were soaked with sweat.

“You’ve been visiting the mill periodically. You were there recently as well. Do you go back and forth often?”

“I go occasionally to buy sesame oil or rice.”

“How was the atmosphere of the mill usually?”

“It was on the quiet side. Most days only the owner was there, and I remember it was the same on the day I went recently.”

Detective Yoon Kyungho took a palm-sized pad from his chest and began taking notes. The questions were mainly asked by Detective Kwon Changil.

“He was mostly alone.”

“He was when I saw him.”

Detective Kwon Changil’s thick eyebrows rose and fell.

“Then, what about visits from strange people or outsiders?”

“Out…siders?”

As soon as he heard the word “outsider,” Cha Seokjoo came to mind. It was natural for him, not being a person from Yonggung-ri, to be classified as an outsider, but being reminded of him at this moment was not very pleasant.

“When you run a guesthouse, many outsiders come. Was there anyone who looked a bit suspicious, or asked about the mill? Was there anyone like that?”

“There was no such person.”

“No scenes that particularly stick in your memory, or anything like that?”

“No, not really.”

“I see….”

The two detectives looked at each other and nodded. Detective Kwon Changil even finished the newly poured barley tea and smiled.

“Thank you for your answers. We enjoyed the tea.”

Detective Kwon Changil stepped down into the yard.

Detective Yoon Kyungho, who had haphazardly shoved the pad into his pocket, stood up from his seat in a hurry. The pad, which had been precariously hanging on his pocket, fell, and the small dining table became a mess.

“Oh, oh-oh!”