Ten won per task. Even if they werenât human, wasnât that a bit too stingy?
Mu-ryeong let out a playful laugh and grabbed Hwan-youngâs wrist. His skin was cooler than usual, likely due to the rain.
âThey donât just take money. Any old object works tooâit doesnât have to be cash.â
Hwan-young followed Mu-ryeong without a word toward the annex entrance. The door was locked, but it didnât matter; they just needed a place to stay dry. Mu-ryeong stepped under the buildingâs overhang first, took off his raincoat, and set down his bag.
"I forgot to bring ten-won coins yesterday, so I couldnât ask them for help. One time, I promised to pay them later, but they absolutely refused to do it again."
A rush of cool air washed over him as soon as he shed the raincoat. Wearing plastic in this humid rain was unbearable. Somehow, Hwan-young remained unbothered, still wrapped up in his coat.
âHow many do you have?â
âHuh?â
âThe goblins. How many are there?â
âOhâ¦â
Mu-ryeong paused mid-motion, fanning his damp shirt, then rolled his eyes. He thought about correcting Hwan-youngânot âhave,â but âkeep companyââbut decided to let it go.
âAbout three.â
âSo those were all of them just now.â
âYeah, pretty muchâ¦â
Hwan-young didnât ask any more questions and took off his raincoat as well. Unlike Mu-ryeong, he neatly folded it and placed it aside. Mu-ryeong glanced at his own carelessly discarded coat but shruggedâit didnât really matter.
âSit down. Itâs gonna take a while.â
Mu-ryeong patted the spot next to him, and Hwan-young lowered himself beside him. He bent one knee up while stretching the other leg out, unintentionally creating a visual comparison between their leg lengths. The difference was noticeable. Mu-ryeong stretched his own legs, pointing his toes toward the distant tips of Hwan-youngâs shoes.
âYouâve got really long legs.â
ââ¦â¦.â
âYouâre about the same as my brother.â
Hwan-young slowly extended his other leg. Their feet lined up side by side, the contrast in size just as apparent as their height difference.
ââ¦â¦Is your brother tall?â
âYeah, way taller than Seung-joo.â
Mu-ryeong raised his hand above his head to illustrate the height difference. Seung-joo wasnât exactly short, but Mu-heun was bigâabout the same as Hwan-young.
âMy whole familyâs tall. My parents, my sister, all of them.â
ââ¦â¦.â
Hwan-young stared at Mu-ryeongâs face with an expression so obvious that Mu-ryeong smirked and raised his eyebrows.
âIâm gonna grow just as tall.â
ââ¦â¦Yeah?â
âYup. My brother and sister hit a late growth spurt.â
Thatâs why Seung-joo always reassured him, saying he was still growing. Mu-heun and Mu-yeon had kept getting taller well into their twenties. Although, to be fair, they had always been tall, while Mu-ryeong was just hoping heâd catch up.
âYou donât believe me, do you?â
ââ¦â¦No, I do.â
Hwan-young answered slowly, turning his gaze forward. From the side, his eyelashes looked especially long and even. His eyes, with faint double eyelids, carried a naturally sharp look, but Mu-ryeong had never found them intimidating.
âItâs true. Check again in two years.â
Mu-ryeong wiggled his toes playfully. Hwan-youngâs dark eyes followed the small movement. Then, as if struck by a thought, he loosened his tie and leaned his head back against the annex door.
The sound of rain filled the space between them. The damp air made Hwan-youngâs voice feel closer than it was.
âWhy are you looking for the time capsule?â
Mu-ryeong tilted his head back against the door as well, answering simply.
"Because thatâs the only way to help them pass on."
âPass on?â
âYeah. Thereâs a spirit that canât move on.â
He stared at the falling rain. Droplets splashed in the small puddle forming near the entrance.
"He buried a letter under a tree, planning to confess to the girl he liked. But he never got the chance to give it to her."
Mu-ryeongâs tone was calm, but the weight behind the words lingered.
"You remember the big tree behind the old school building, right? From when we were first years?"
âThe treeâ¦â
Hwan-young narrowed his eyes slightly. Of course, he remembered. The massive tree behind the abandoned buildingâevery Haeyeon High student knew about it.
âThe one they cut down last year?â
âYeah, that one.â
Even back then, there had been a lot of debate. Some students had pushed for the new building to be constructed around the tree, but in the end, the decision hadnât been theirs to make.
"We probably wonât find it. Even if we do, itâs likely somewhere we canât reach."
It wasnât resignationâit was acceptance. They would do their best, but some things were simply impossible. There was no point in clinging to what couldnât be changed when there were other ways to help.
âSo if we canât find the letter, Iâm going to help him confess in another way.â
Convincing him to let go was the only option. Finding the girl would be difficult, but it was still easier than digging under a demolished tree.
"Spirits have to resolve their regrets before they can pass on, huh?"
âWellâ¦â
Mu-ryeong trailed off, his words stretching into an indistinct murmur. He bent his knees, wrapping his arms around them before resting his chin on top.@@novelbin@@
"Itâs not always like that."
There was another way to help spirits pass on besides resolving their regrets. But Mu-ryeong rarely chose that method. He believed that respecting those who had left this world unfairly meant giving them the choice, rather than forcing them into oblivion.
"Can I ask you something?"
Tilting his head slightly, Mu-ryeong blinked. Hwan-young, still leaning against the door, merely shifted his gaze toward himâa silent gesture to go ahead.
"How did you get onto the rooftop?"
The main building, where the first- and second-year classrooms were, had its rooftop permanently locked for various reasons. An automatic locking system was supposed to be installed soon, but even after that, it would remain inaccessible. No matter how Mu-ryeong thought about it, Hwan-young shouldnât have been able to sit on that ledge.
"It just opened."
Hwan-youngâs tone was casual, as if it wasnât worth thinking about. Then, after a brief pause, his brows knitted slightly, as if something didnât add up.
"Now that I think about it⦠how did I open it?"
"â¦â¦."
Mu-ryeongâs eyes twitched slightly. A realization dawned on him, an unsettling possibility forming in his mind.
If it wasnât Hwan-young who unlocked the door, then there was only one possible culprit.
It was the vengeful spirit.
The longer a spirit lingered after death, the stronger their energy became. Over time, their presence grew dense with lingering resentment, and with enough strength, they could manipulate their surroundingsâunlocking doors, breaking small machines, disrupting the world of the living in subtle but unmistakable ways.
"â¦â¦Maybe it wasnât fully locked."
Mu-ryeong feigned ignorance. He couldnât bring himself to tell Hwan-young the truthâthat the spirit haunting him had been the one to guide him to the rooftop.
I should suggest installing a fence up there.
Even if the door opened again, at least there would be no immediate danger. Of course, preventing it from happening in the first place would be even better.
"Arenât you tired?"
The goblins wouldnât return for a while. Mu-ryeong was used to long waits, but this was probably an exhausting ordeal for Hwan-young.
"If youâre sleepy, get some rest. Iâll wake you up."
"â¦â¦."
Hwan-youngâs quiet gaze landed on him, lingering for a moment before dropping to Mu-ryeongâs bandaged hand. He didnât seem drowsyâif anything, it looked like he had something he wanted to say.
"â¦â¦Do you always stay out like this at night?"
His voice was low, almost hesitant, as if he had thought about asking for a while.
The way he said aloneâMu-ryeong wasnât sure why, but it felt strangely weighted.
"Not alwaysâ¦"
"â¦â¦."
"Only when I need to."
The nights stretched long, often spent waiting endlessly for the right spirit to appear. Sometimes, he would leave empty-handed, but most of the time, he remained in one place until sunrise, unable to leave until he was sure his task was done.
"Usually, I have the goblins with me."
That was why his night wanderings never felt lonely or unbearable. Of course, even without them, Mu-ryeong would have kept goingâit was simply what he did.
"But tonightâs better since youâre here."
He let out a quiet laugh, his smile soft and content. Having company made a difference. At least he had someone to talk to.
"It gets boring sometimes."
"â¦â¦."
"Though youâre probably going to be exhausted tomorrowâ¦"
Mu-ryeong added, half apologetic, half amused.
Hwan-young responded without hesitation.
"One night without sleep isnât a big deal."
Seung-joo would have been horrified to hear that. He treated proper sleep like a sacred ritual and constantly nagged Mu-ryeong for staying up late. But unlike Seung-joo, who acted like missing a few hours would bring impending doom, Hwan-young didnât seem to care in the slightest.
"Next time, tooâ"
Squish.
The sound of wet earth being stepped on cut through the rain.
Both of them stilled.
Mu-ryeong turned his head sharply, narrowing his eyes in the direction of the approaching footsteps.
"â¦â¦."
"â¦â¦What is it?"
Hwan-youngâs voice was cautious, but Mu-ryeong didnât answer immediately. His focus was locked onto the figure emerging from the rain, walking toward them with steady steps.
Someone drenched to the bone, taking slow but deliberate strides, seemingly unaffected by the downpour.
A student.
And not just any student.
"â¦â¦I knew it."
Mu-ryeong exhaled, recognizing the figure instantly.
The student who had asked for his help.