Chapter 11: Chapter 11

"I think I need to contact my brother."

Seung-joo didn’t press for details and simply nodded. Judging by Mu-ryeong’s serious expression, it was something he didn’t need to involve himself in. Guess Kim Mu-ryeong’s going to spend a few more nights without sleep again. That was the extent of his thoughts.

"Don’t forget to get something in return. You still haven’t gotten anything from Min-ji, have you?"

"No, she’s giving me an old hairpin from when she was a kid."

Even though Mu-ryeong always seemed easygoing, he never forgot to receive compensation for his work. It was something Seung-joo had emphasized multiple times when he first started exorcising spirits. Since he only ever accepted items that were essentially junk to others, no one ever refused to give him something.

"What about Ki Hwan-young?"

"…"

Mu-ryeong silently slipped his hand into his pocket. The plastic object at his fingertips felt strangely rigid today. Rubbing the sharp edges of the small square, he muttered under his breath.

"Not sure…"

"Not sure?"

Seung-joo raised an eyebrow. He looked like he was about to launch into a full-blown lecture, so Mu-ryeong quickly wiped the tension from his face and feigned indifference.

"I’ll take something."

Luckily, Seung-joo didn’t argue further and instead draped an arm over Mu-ryeong’s shoulder. Even so, the way he subtly pressed his weight down made it clear he wasn’t satisfied with the answer. Mu-ryeong understood his reasoning, so he just let out a small, meaningless laugh.

Mu-ryeong, who would normally have spent the entire morning sleeping, surprisingly attended class today. His excuse was that he needed to take notes for Seung-joo, who had injured his hand—but the real issue was that Seung-joo hadn’t actually asked him to.

"Just sleep already."

"I can’t… You can’t hold a pen."

Mu-ryeong shook his head, pressing both hands against his cheeks. Of course, that didn’t actually wake him up, and he ended up yawning again. Then, catching sight of Seung-joo’s casted right hand, he suddenly became completely alert, as if doused with cold water.

"I’ll do it for you until your cast comes off."

"What…"

With handwriting that sloppy, it’ll take me twice as long to decipher it later. Seung-joo thought to himself as he awkwardly tried to hold a pen with his left hand. He understood Mu-ryeong’s guilt all too well. Rather than insisting he was fine a hundred times, it was easier to just let Mu-ryeong be.

"Then get some sleep after lunch. It’s the weekend tomorrow anyway, so try to rest a little."

"Mm."

Mu-ryeong half-heartedly responded while scribbling down notes from the board. His handwriting wasn’t usually bad, but drowsiness was making a mess of his consonants and vowels. His eyes, half-lidded from exhaustion, were completely glazed over with sleep.

By the time lunch rolled around, Mu-ryeong was practically moving on autopilot. His head bobbed dangerously as if he could pass out any moment. His current state was worse than usual, a consequence of having drained all his spiritual energy at dawn. Of course, Seung-joo had no way of knowing that.

"Wake up. Let’s go eat."

Still half-asleep, Mu-ryeong instinctively clung to Seung-joo’s back. Normally, he would have demanded to be carried outright, but since Seung-joo was injured, he restrained himself.

As he was being dragged along like a sack of rice, a sudden chill crept up his spine, and he stopped in his tracks.

"What?"

Seung-joo, who had stopped as well, frowned. Mu-ryeong, still clinging to him, blinked slowly.

Just ahead, at the back door of Class 2-3, Hwan-young was stepping out of the classroom. Their eyes met.

"…"

"…Hey."

"…"

"You heading to lunch?"

Hwan-young’s expression was unreadable as he glanced between Mu-ryeong and Seung-joo. His gaze lingered briefly on Seung-joo’s cast. His face hardened slightly, but he said nothing and simply turned around, walking back into the classroom without another word.

Watching him, Seung-joo let out a scoff.

"Wow. What an asshole."

"Hey, he might hear you."

"I want him to hear me."

Without dwelling on it further, they resumed walking toward the cafeteria. Mu-ryeong stole another glance at the classroom door, but Hwan-young didn’t seem like he planned on coming out.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Their eyes had just happened to meet, so he’d spoken on instinct, but perhaps it was unnecessary.

Lunch was beef bulgogi and bean sprout soup. Thanks to his natural charm, Mu-ryeong managed to get twice as much bulgogi as everyone else. He was also the first to finish eating, quickly standing up from his seat.@@novelbin@@

"I’m heading out first."

"Yeah, go take a nap."

Seung-joo, who was eating with his left hand, lazily nodded. Originally, Mu-ryeong had planned to feed him, but after receiving a firm rejection—"What the hell are you doing, that’s disgusting."—he had no choice but to abandon the idea.

"I left my gym uniform on the chair. Use it as a blanket."

Even though sleeping wasn’t his reason for leaving, Mu-ryeong didn’t bother correcting Seung-joo’s assumption. He simply told him to take his time and carried his tray away.

But instead of heading to the classroom, Mu-ryeong made his way to a deserted waste disposal area.

"…"

Positioned near the recycling bins, he crouched down in a secluded corner, glancing around to make sure no one was nearby. As he pulled out his phone to make a call, he kept peeking over his shoulder, wary of anyone approaching.

After about five rings, a familiar voice answered.

"Hey, Mu-ryeong."

"Hyung!"

It was Kim Mu-heun —Mu-ryeong’s older brother. Like Mu-ryeong, he was an exorcist, but he had moved out and was currently living in the countryside. Despite their ten-year age gap, the two brothers had always been close.

"Are you busy right now?"

"Uh…"

Mu-ryeong asked hesitantly, and Mu-heun hesitated in response. There was a lot of background noise, suggesting he was in the middle of something.

Mu-ryeong had hoped to call at a better time, but he had his own reasons for making this call now.

"Are you really busy? It’ll only take a minute…"

"No, it’s fine now. Go ahead."

The noise in the background faded, and the line became quiet. Mu-ryeong switched his phone to his other hand and rubbed his forehead.

"I need you to check someone’s saju for me."

"Saju?"

Among exorcists, each person had their own unique specialty. Mu-ryeong had his, and in Mu-heun’s case, it was reading fate through saju—the study of destiny based on one’s birth information.

Technically, it wasn’t just reading fortunes; it was interpreting the flow of energy that dictated a person’s fate. He once joked about setting up a fortune-telling stand, only to get scolded harshly by their mother.

"Why saju all of a sudden? You’ve never been interested in this stuff."

"I kind of need it… Can you check now?"

— "It won’t take long. Who is it for? Seung-joo?"

"No, someone else."

— "Tell me their birth date and time."

"He’s the same age as me…"

Mu-ryeong swallowed dryly. Even though he had been thinking about this for a while, saying it out loud made him nervous. He switched the phone to his other hand, steadying his voice.

"March 1st, born between 11:00 PM and 1:00 AM."

"What time were you born?"

Even back then, Mu-ryeong had been mentally preparing to ask Mu-heun. He had a gut feeling that he needed to confirm something before he could fully grasp the situation. More information meant better decisions, even if it made him feel guilty toward Hwan-young.

— "Let’s see… If he’s your age, then he was born in the Year of the Metal Rat (2020), the Month of the Earth Rabbit (February–March), the Day of the Water Rabbit, and the Hour of the Rat (11 PM–1 AM)… Is he a boy?"

"Yeah, male."

A faint scratching sound could be heard on the other end. It didn’t sound like writing on paper—something duller. Mu-ryeong, curious, couldn’t help but ask.

"Hyung, what are you writing on?"

— "Huh? Oh, I didn’t have paper, so I’m using the dirt."

"…"

So he was outside. Mu-ryeong felt a pang of guilt and rested his chin on his knee.

More scratching sounds followed, then a thoughtful hum from Mu-heun.

— "This is weird…"

He muttered to himself before finally speaking again.

— "There’s no saju for him."

"…"

Mu-ryeong wasn’t shocked.

He had already expected something like this.

Still, hearing it confirmed left him momentarily speechless.

What should I do… Mu-ryeong lowered his gaze and carefully opened his mouth.

"Hyung, then…"

***

Monday Morning

Mu-ryeong arrived at Seung-joo’s house just in time to catch him leaving. Since summer uniforms were allowed starting this week, his outfit was much lighter than usual—no tie, just a plain black T-shirt under his loosely worn white dress shirt.

"Seo Seung-joo!"

"…Ah, damn it—"

Seung-joo flinched, stepping back as if he’d just seen a ghost. Which was ironic, considering he didn’t even have spiritual sight.

"What are you doing here?"

Seung-joo instinctively hid his bag behind his back, eyeing Mu-ryeong suspiciously. He was clearly worried that Mu-ryeong might try to carry it for him again, just like on Friday.

But instead of snatching his bag, Mu-ryeong suddenly held something out.

"Here. For you."

A plain white envelope, unmarked and simple. Seung-joo hesitated, not immediately taking it. It didn’t seem like a letter, so what was inside?

"What is this?"

Mu-ryeong shifted his gaze, suddenly feeling awkward. Seo Seung-joo and his damn sharp instincts.

"A talisman."

"…"

"Just take it."

"Hey…"

Even after hearing what it was, Seung-joo still didn’t accept it. Instead, his lips twisted like he was about to curse. Not wanting to give him the chance, Mu-ryeong shoved the envelope into his pocket.

"It’s too late to argue. If you don’t take it, I’ll have to throw it away."

"Do you even hear yourself right now—? Damn it, don’t just stuff it in there!"

In the end, Seung-joo snatched the talisman from Mu-ryeong’s hand. He opened the envelope cautiously, as if he were receiving a bribe. Mu-ryeong grinned triumphantly when he saw Seung-joo let out a long sigh.

"How many did you make?"

"…"

Of course, the satisfaction was short-lived.

"Be honest. How many?"

"…Mm."

Mu-ryeong’s eyes darted away as he thought about the talismans tucked inside his bag, hidden between the pages of his books. He subtly tried to walk ahead, but Seung-joo followed without missing a beat.

"You wouldn’t have gone through the trouble just because I hurt my hand."

He was right.

If it had just been for Seung-joo, Mu-ryeong would have hesitated for days before actually doing it. Not for any particular reason—just because Seung-joo would have thrown a fit.

Besides, making talismans took at least two days. If there hadn’t been a real need, he wouldn’t have put in the effort.

"Not just how many—who else are they for?"

Seung-joo’s words hit the mark again, unsettlingly accurate. Mu-ryeong deliberately hardened his expression, answering in the coldest tone possible.

"That’s my personal business."

"Oh, give me a break. Ki Hwan-young?"

"…"

At this point, Mu-ryeong was seriously considering letting Mu-heun set up a fortune-telling tent—as long as Seung-joo was his business partner. One could read fate, the other could read minds.