DMSD | Chapter 11

When Go Myeongeun was in fifth grade, long after his time at the Mansindang, he once shared his own ghostly experiences while talking about scary stories with friends. But his friends didn’t believe his story, even when he explained why he had to dress up as a girl back then. Instead, it just made them look at him strangely. Eventually, he became the “liar” and “attention-seeker” among his classmates, and he was bullied until he graduated from elementary school.

Nowadays, he can understand the rejection people feel toward things that are out of the ordinary. But back then, it had left a scar on his young heart. After enduring that tiny but harsh society and finally moving past his isolation, Myeongeun vowed never to speak about his childhood experiences again.

Now, Myeongeun glanced over at Kwon Jinhyeon, who was talking with Kwon Jinhwan.

Both Kwon Jinhyeok and Kwon Jinhyeon were aware of their younger brother’s abilities. And both of them had a certain level of spiritual intuition themselves.

Myeongeun was sure of one thing: whatever had latched onto his leg earlier and whatever “pest” they’d come here to exterminate tonight—those were not ordinary insects. If his two supervisors weren’t sensing anything, then there would be no reason for them to gather here at this hour unless someone had specifically tipped them off.

Well, one of them had bolted already, but still.

Even if they knew about his past, it wouldn’t affect his work. But Myeongeun hoped to quietly retire from Gaon Group without causing any waves.

He resolved to keep his past hidden from his superiors.

Besides, there were already rumors floating around about this building being a “spirit spot” or whatever. He’d even felt something strange earlier. If Kwon Jinhyeok and Kwon Jinhyeon knew he could sense beings from the other side, they might end up calling on him every time something weird happened. And probably just to make him do the grunt work.

Wait a minute.

Myeongeun tilted his head in confusion. Why had that thing attached itself to him, anyway? It hadn’t happened in 19 years.

He recalled the sensation from the elevator and shivered. What sent chills through him wasn’t the encounter itself, but the fact that he had felt that presence. Feeling it… that’s how it all started when he was young. Feeling something there, feeling a touch, hearing a whisper. Then, eventually, he’d see it, be touched by it, and hear it whispering.

Surely, it couldn’t be happening all over again.

Although he didn’t remember everything from back then, the fear was still vividly etched in his body.

“Myeongeun-ssi.”

The sudden voice startled him, and he looked up. Kwon Jinhyeon signaled down the long hallway, as if to say, “Let’s go.”

“Oh, yes.”

Kwon Jinhwan took the lead, walking down the hallway. Now that he knew who they were, it wasn’t surprising that he already knew the location of the warehouse without needing directions.

Should he just hand over the keys and step back now? But what if they wrecked the warehouse, and his boss questioned why he hadn’t gone with them despite being in the office? No, surely the Deputy Head Manager would cover for him.

Myeongeun, uncharacteristically trying to find a way to slack off, was following Jinhwan when—

“Earlier.”

Jinhwan’s low voice interrupted his thoughts. Quickly, Myeongeun moved to walk beside him.

“Yes?”

“That thing on your leg.”

Jinhwan kept his eyes ahead, but glanced briefly at Myeongeun.

“You saw it?”

“No. I just…”

As he spoke, he glanced back. Kwon Jinhyeon was following at a slight distance. At this range, he probably couldn’t hear their conversation, but the hallway was so eerily silent, Myeongeun couldn’t be sure.

He leaned closer to Jinhwan and whispered.

“I didn’t see it; I just felt it. I couldn’t touch it, smell it, or hear anything, either.”

Jinhwan, uncomfortable with their proximity, moved a little away.

“When we get to the warehouse, throw whatever’s in your pocket into the middle of the room.”

Not knowing what he’d brought, Myeongeun reached into his pocket and was taken aback. He carefully showed the item to Jinhwan and asked cautiously.

“Uh… do I really have to throw this? It’s old, so if I throw it wrong, the screen might break. And, you know, the warranty’s expired, so repairs would cost a lot…”

Jinhwan glanced at the phone in his hand, then paused.

“Not that.”

“Oh, then—”

“Besides, whether you throw it right or wrong, that old relic of yours looks like it’s about to spontaneously combust.”

It’s only five years old!

Feeling slightly hurt by Jinhwan’s snide remark, Myeongeun was torn. How could Hwan have grown up to be so rude? Despite all the evidence pointing to Jinhwan being Hwan, he found it hard to accept emotionally. Swallowing his frustration, he pocketed his phone and reached into his cardigan pocket.

“Oh.”

His fingers found the blue hairpin he’d picked up from the warehouse earlier. He’d asked both Section Chief Yang and Assistant Manager Kim if it was theirs, but both denied it.

“This is what you meant—ack!”

As he pulled out the hairpin, he almost dropped it in shock. Dropping it might have been the better choice.

“What the hell is this?!”

Instinctively, he clung to Jinhwan’s arm.

“Wh-why is it… why does it look like this?”

The hairpin had been blue. But now, it looked like it had been scorched black, its original color unrecognizable. What chilled him most was that the hairpin, once shiny and new, now looked old and worn-out.

Section Chief Yang’s words echoed in his mind: “It looks old; maybe just toss it?”

At the time, he’d thought it was merely a comment on taste, interpreting “old” as “outdated.”

He’d encountered something like this before.

When he was young, he once found a pair of pretty little shoes while playing in the empty lot behind his house. His friend urged him to try them on, and they fit perfectly. He happily ran home in them, but his mother was horrified, scolding him for wearing “such a thing.” As he looked down, crying, he realized that the shoes weren’t shoes at all, nor did they fit. He was wearing paper shoes, slightly larger than his own feet.

They were burial shoes, meant for the deceased.

But back then, he hadn’t understood. Sobbing, he’d asked his mother what they were, but her face had turned pale, and she never explained. She just held him close, asking why he’d worn “such a thing.” When he explained that his “friend” had urged him to try them on, she asked him who that friend was. And he couldn’t answer. He had no idea who that friend was or why they’d been playing together.

“It’s alright.”

A low voice snapped him back to the present. Turning, he saw Jinhwan looking at him, his face neither expressionless nor spiteful. He was serious, firm, and… worried about him.

“I’m here. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Only then did Myeongeun realize he was still holding onto Jinhwan’s arm. Jinhwan’s large hand covered his, steadying it.

Despite the thick military jacket Jinhwan was wearing, he could tell how solid and strong his arm was. The warmth from that strong arm and hand slowly calmed his mind, though a part of his heart still fluttered uneasily.

“Thank you. I’m okay now.”

Myeongeun let go of Jinhwan.

But he couldn’t hold onto this hairpin any longer. Nor could he bring himself to throw it into the warehouse, as Jinhwan had suggested.

“I’m sorry…”

Shaking with nerves, he apologized, but though Jinhwan didn’t tell him it was alright, he neither mocked him for being weak nor sneered at him.

Relieved, he decided to forgive Jinhwan for mocking his phone earlier.

After a moment’s hesitation, Jinhwan clicked his tongue softly, then whistled into the empty air with a sharp, clear sound.

The whistle cut through the stillness of the hallway like a blade.

The second whistle echoed, deep and brief. As it reverberated faintly in his ears, he waited for a response, but no one appeared. It seemed that the call wasn’t meant for a person.

Still tense, he held the hairpin in his palm and turned toward Jinhyeon standing behind him.

“Um, Deputy Team Leader?”

Jinhyeon, who’d been watching Jinhwan’s back with arms crossed, looked over. Just as Myeongeun was about to ask who they were calling…