DMSD | Chapter 10

“Yes. I said I’d take the delivery when it arrives.”

“But…”

Myeongeun rolled his eyes and sneaked a glance at Jinhyeon, who simply shrugged with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. He was the very embodiment of a bystander.

“But Deputy Team Leader, you don’t know the procedures.”

“I’ll receive it, check the quantities, and make a record. Assistant Manager Go, you can come verify afterward.”

In the end, this just meant I’d have to inspect it again. It wasn’t so much reducing my work as it was adding more.

“…But isn’t it the Deputy Team Leader who’s supposed to be the one going to the warehouse?”

Kwon Jinhyeok kept his smile but paused for a moment.

“Assistant Manager Go.”

A few seconds later, he spoke in a low voice.

“I hate bugs.”

“…Of course, I also—”

“No.”

Kwon Jinhyeok shook his head vigorously as if he had no intention of hearing Myeongeun’s predictable response.

“I’m terrified. It’s not just dislike; it’s a phobia. They make me anxious, uneasy, and dizzy.”

“Then why did you say you’d go in the first place?”

Normally, he wouldn’t have done it, but Myeongeun couldn’t hold back from reproaching Kwon Jinhyeok.

If the Deputy Team Leader doesn’t go, then I’ll have to go with the Deputy Head Manager and that rude brat, which means my chances of being spotted by that brat jump from one in three to one in two!

Myeongeun felt he deserved praise for holding back his annoyance without yelling.

“I didn’t know Assistant Manager Go would go back then.”

On the verge of escaping the warehouse trip, Kwon Jinhyeok was all smiles. In short, he’d found a great stand-in and was opting out of the bug-hunting operation.

“…Understood.”

Myeongeun didn’t want to argue with anyone anymore. He didn’t care about the supposed thirty hours. He just wanted to finish up and go home, even three seconds earlier.

“Stay safe. Make sure you come back alive.”

Jinhyeok said with an overly cheerful face that sounded strangely ominous. At this point, it was impossible for Myeongeun not to suspect something more than a simple bug-hunt was going on.

The automatic door, which had been propped open, silently closed. The hallway air felt unusually cold and heavy.

Jinhwan, who had been standing quietly, took the lead and headed toward the elevator.

As he followed, Myeongeun suddenly felt something close behind him. Startled, he turned to find Jinhyeon standing just a step away, looking down at him.

“If it gets to be too much, you can always run,” Jinhyeon said.

Although he offered no further explanation, Myeongeun understood it was a warning. He swallowed hard and nodded.

“Yes.”

Just as he was about to turn around, Myeongeun hesitated, paused, and said, “But I think I’ll be alright, Deputy Head Manager.”

For a moment, a flicker of surprise crossed Jinhyeon’s face, but neither of them said anything further.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Jinhwan stepped inside first.

“Oh, um, the warehouse is on the fifth floor…”

Hurriedly following him in, Myeongeun noticed that the fifth-floor button was already lit up. He glanced over at Jinhwan, who lowered his gaze briefly before turning his eyes away.

“Have you had dinner, Hwan?”

“Just something simple.”

Jinhyeon and Jinhwan exchanged a casual conversation. Like a responsible older brother, Jinhyeon asked if he was eating properly and if he’d finished the side dishes he’d given him before. Meanwhile, Jinhwan answered with nothing more than a few words: “Yeah,” or “No.” Rude as he was, he at least replied, which was one small mercy for his older brothers.

They arrived on the fifth floor, and the elevator doors opened.

Jinhwan and Jinhyeon stepped out first, and then it was finally Myeongeun’s turn. As he took a step, he felt an inexplicable heaviness in his legs, as if his calves were shrouded in a thick, damp air. Then, after two steps—

A large hand suddenly grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the elevator. At the same time, Jinhwan pulled a long, black rod from his back pocket and swiftly drew a line on the floor between the elevator and Myeongeun.

His movements were quick, precise, and fluid.

It all happened in an instant.

By the time Myeongeun came to his senses, the elevator door had already closed, and the strange weight on his legs had disappeared.

“Look, here.”

…Jingle…

“Do you see it?”

Jingle…

Blinking in surprise, Myeongeun heard the faint sound of a bell and saw Jinhwan waving his hand to catch his attention.

“Yes, I… I see it.”

Though bewildered by the sudden event, he quickly regained his composure. Jinhwan continued to peer into his eyes. Myeongeun realized he was checking to see if the life had returned to them.

“I’m fine, really.”

He reassured Jinhwan once more.

Only then did Jinhwan release his grip on Myeongeun’s arm.

Jingle.

Looking down, Myeongeun noticed where the bell sound was coming from. It was Jinhwan’s hand—not the left hand that had grabbed him but the right. In his hand was that same black, long object he’d used to draw the line on the floor. It wasn’t a rod; it was a folding fan.

The end of the fan had a silver cord attached, and on that cord hung two small, shimmering silver bells that emitted a clear, resonant sound.

The fan was about 35 centimeters long, with lacquered black blades decorated with a delicate cluster of small, mother-of-pearl butterflies etched in intricate detail halfway down.

Staring at the fan, Myeongeun then looked up. Jinhwan, noticing his gaze, also looked back, and their eyes met.

“…By any chance.”

His throat dry, Myeongeun swallowed.

Jinhwan hadn’t unfolded the fan even once, yet Myeongeun knew that if he did, a swarm of white butterflies would likely sweep across the black surface, like a galaxy.

Nineteen summers ago, Myeongeun had loved lying flat on the Temple of All Gods’ porch. Closing his eyes, he’d listen to the green leaves rustling outside the hanok. And then, as a faint jingling of bells and the rustling of paper sounded, a cool breeze would brush over him, prompting him to open his eyes just a sliver. A little boy, sitting a foot away, held a black fan almost as big as his torso, waving it tirelessly to cool him. Though he knew he should remind the boy, “Hwan, don’t keep stealing Grandma’s fan,” the gentle sleepiness would lull him into a nap.

The small but profoundly resonant bells and the fan, imbued with a force even a young Myeongeun could sense—these were the sacred tools of his Grandma at the Temple of All Gods.

Ah, it was Hwan.

Myeongeun felt sure that this man was Hwan. The name, the age he’d be now in his twenties, the fact that he possessed his maternal grandmother’s fan, and his ability to effortlessly break the strange hold on Myeongeun’s legs—all pointed to this man before him, Kwon Jinhwan, as the young Hwan from back then. There was no room for doubt.

“Uh, about nineteen years ago…”

Myeongeun grabbed Jinhwan’s arm impulsively. Jinhwan seemed momentarily startled but soon returned to his stoic expression, looking down at the arm Myeongeun was clutching. His gaze was so cold that Myeongeun sheepishly let go.

Jinhwan raised his eyes again, wordlessly urging him to speak. But now that he had Jinhwan’s attention, all of Myeongeun’s earlier boldness seemed to evaporate as he hesitated.

“Uh… well, nineteen years ago, there was a place called the Temple…”

Even staring at a passing ant might’ve felt more thrilling than this. Watching Jinhwan’s indifferent expression, Myeongeun felt like a fool, struggling so desperately to explain. Besides, it had been nineteen years. There was no guarantee Jinhwan would remember him.

Myeongeun gazed at the man before him.

For a long time, he’d struggled to recall Hwan’s face from when he was five. Yet now, looking at this man, the boy’s face resurfaced in his memory as vividly as ever.

Of course, Kwon Jinhwan was taller, broader, and blindingly handsome compared to his childhood self. But he’d also grown into an absurdly aloof, stern person.

And yet, this Kwon Jinhwan was undoubtedly the Hwan he once knew.

He’d always wanted to see how that child had grown up. Seeing him now should’ve been enough. There was no point in dragging up forgotten memories or trying to rekindle ties with the founder’s family.

Meeting Hwan after nineteen years, knowing he was healthy—that would be enough for Myeongeun.

“…No, never mind.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jinhwan turned and walked over to Jinhyeon.

Thinking that maybe he’d annoyed Jinhwan by holding on too long, Myeongeun awkwardly fidgeted with his fingers. In a way, it was probably for the best. Given Jinhwan’s personality, he might find the idea of a young man dressed as a girl back then disturbing.

He couldn’t let beautiful memories get tarnished by being branded as weird.

Any lingering disappointment faded as Myeongeun imagined Jinhwan’s disgusted face asking, “So you were that weirdo?”

Suddenly, he felt a stare from a distance, and turning, he saw Jinhyeon looking at him curiously.

A bit nervous, Myeongeun wondered if he’d overheard anything.

Soon enough, Jinhwan approached Jinhyeon, who redirected his attention back to his brother, seamlessly continuing their conversation.

In truth, Myeongeun had never wanted to share the unique circumstances of his childhood, including his time at the Temple of All Gods, with others.