Dropping out of thin air onto the floor, Lee Sejin’s father tumbled across the ground, trying to shake his head clear as he scanned his surroundings. The more he tried to make sense of where he was, the blurrier his sight became. He couldn’t tell if his feet rested on solid ground or empty space. A strange shimmer warped his vision, distorting his perception. Was this a nightmare? Just as he reached up to pinch his cheek to wake up, the guy who was standing next to him a second ago appeared.
Yes—appeared.
“H-How… out of thin air…?”
“I’ll never get what’s wrong with fathers.”
Muttering under his breath, Hajun stepped toward Lee Sejin’s father with a blank, cold face. Sensing the heavy, suffocating pressure radiating from Hajun, the man stammered and scrambled backward.
“Y-You! What are you?! Where the hell is this place?!”
Ten minutes… no, maybe fifteen? That should cover it. Hajun planned on giving him a quick lesson. He calculated how much strength he could use while keeping enough energy to walk back to the dorm on his own two feet.
“Hallucinations…? Is this a trip?”
Listening to the man babble nonsense, Hajun let out a dry snort. Blue flames sparked over his raised hand. Terrified, Lee Sejin’s father screamed.
“Stay back! I’m… I’m calling the cops!”
“Cops? Ha! Funny stuff. Go ahead, try it.”
“I’ll do it! I swear I’ll do it! You famous little punk, do you even get what kind of mess you’re in?!”
“You’re the one who lacks a clue.”
With trembling hands, Lee Sejin’s father hit emergency call. Or at least he tried.
[No Service Area.]
The alert sat sharp and clear across the top of his screen. Impossible. How could a ‘No Service’ message show up right in the middle of Seoul? Was this even Seoul? A dark thought crossed his mind that this young punk must have used drugs to mess with his head. The whole situation felt fake. The ground and walls rippled, and Won Hajun stepping closer with blue flames wrapped around his body looked like a demon straight out of folklore. Sprawled on the floor, he let out a final, desperate yell.
“You… you junkie bastard!”
“Junkie? Did you do drugs too…?”
Hajun had no time to waste listening to this trash. He didn’t care either. Jumping into Lee Sejin’s family drama felt a bit ridiculous in the first place. Still, letting a scumbag who made his friend cry walk away clean wasn’t his style.
“Alright, let’s wrap this up fast.”
Dammit. Beating the guy up ended up revealing way too much useless information. Because of that, he ran over time and used way more power than planned. Opening a random door in the space, Hajun tossed Lee Sejin’s father out into whatever spot in Seoul it led to—whether the guy fell into the Han River or a ditch didn’t matter to him—and collapsed to his knees with a staggering breath.
“Haah…”
He had let his temper run wild. A red glow shimmered in his eyes. Doing this to a ‘living human’ using direct, negative spiritual force stood on a whole different level from sticking pins into a Cheongryeo plush doll. It crossed the line of human morality by a mile. And Hajun knew what happened every time he committed a sin like this.
Time to pay the price.
He needed to get out of this space and head back to the dorm before things got worse. Sure enough, the moment he stepped back into the human realm, foul spirits caught his scent and swarmed in.
—Gahaha! —An empty house! It’s an empty house! —A sweet smell! Such a sweet smell!
“Fuck…”
The dorm sat right in front of him. All he needed was to walk out of the parking garage and get on the elevator. Yet the distance felt miles long. Hoping Park Moondae had made it back on his own, Hajun dragged his heavy feet forward. A nightmare seeped into every single step.
“Ah, Moondae. You’re back… Where’s Hajun?”
“…Why are you looking for him…”
Swallowing his reply—Ask him yourself—Park Moondae caught the tense look on Ryu Cheongwoo’s face and read the room in an instant.
“What time did he leave?”
“About thirty minutes ago.”
If a member is running late, just get some damn sleep! Why go out…!
“Did you call him?”
“I’m trying now, but he isn’t picking up.”
Moondae turned around without taking off his jacket. Cheongwoo put a hand on his arm to stop him.
“I’ll go look. You must be tired.”
“No, we might miss each other on the way…”
Beep— Beep-beep-beep—
The electronic lock sounded, proving no search party was needed.
The door swung open, and Hajun stumbled inside, collapsing forward like a falling tree. Moondae barely caught his weight, bracing his legs to stay upright. Cheongwoo rushed over to take Hajun onto his shoulders.
One look at Won Hajun leaning against Cheongwoo showed he was in terrible shape. His face burned bright red as if running a high fever, and his eyes stayed half-hazy. Moondae had never seen him like this.
“Hajun? Won Hajun! Are you okay?!”
“…Salt.”
“What?”
“Scatter salt… in front of the door…”
Gasping out those words, Hajun let out a painful groan, shifting his weight heavier onto Cheongwoo.
“…Salt?”
“Do I need to repeat myself? Ah, fuck… I barely shook them off…”
If you guys won’t do it, I’ll do it myself.
Hajun tried to stagger forward, but his legs gave out. Cheongwoo adjusted his stance, wrapping Hajun’s arm around his neck while supporting his shoulder.
“Is salt enough?”
“For now…”
“Got it. Moondae, can you handle that? I need to lay Hajun down somewhere…”
“…Yeah.”
Nodding, Park Moondae headed straight for the kitchen. Figuring out what on earth happened to turn the great Won Hajun into a wreck could wait a moment.
Meanwhile, Lee Sejin—who had been lying under his blanket after a fruitless talk with Cheongwoo—poked his head out as he heard footsteps.
“Ah, Sejin. Were you awake? Did I wake you?”
Cheongwoo was supporting Hajun, easing him onto the bed. Hajun gripped Cheongwoo’s clothes, refusing to let go, forcing Cheongwoo to struggle to detach him. Spotting Sejin, Cheongwoo gave an awkward smile.
“Ah, no… But what’s wrong with him? He didn’t go out drinking, right…?”
“Well, who knows.”
Seeing him struggling to keep his feet made it look like he crawled home drunk, but everyone knew Hajun never got drunk. The rough breathing and the flushed face lit by the dim hallway light pointed to one clear fact.
He was sick.
…That Won Hajun? Hard to believe.
And then an even harder situation took place right before his eyes.
“Hng…”
“Hajun, let go of me first…”
“Don’t… go…”
Grasping Cheongwoo’s shirt, Hajun pulled with surprising strength. Even sick, that huge physical power remained intact. Cheongwoo was jerked forward, barely holding his balance against the edge of the bed.
“…What are you guys doing?”
“Ah, Moondae. Hajun won’t let go… What do I do?”
Having finished scattering salt at the door, Moondae walked in and stared at Hajun with a flat look. Sure enough, a Status Condition sat active above his head.
[Spirit Sickness]: Malicious spirits gather around an empty house. If left without defense, something may be lost.
If left without defense, something may be lost. Lost what?
Facing a Status Condition he had no idea how to cure, Moondae watched Hajun wrestle with Cheongwoo and recalled what Randy had mentioned back at the estate.
‘Every few years, the young master falls ill without medical reason. Even doctors cannot find the cause.’ ‘If you see it, you will recognize it at once.’ ‘This is a secret, but he is quite cute.’
…Cute?
Moondae figured every servant in that estate must have a screw loose or carry strange tastes. Cute? …That guy?
“Don’t go…”
“I’m not going anywhere. Let go of this shirt first, okay?”
“No…”
…Isn’t he just an elementary school kid? If a two-meter-tall elementary kid existed, this would be the exact sight.
What on earth did he do out there to end up in this state?
Moondae walked past Cheongwoo, who was trying to save his stretched-out t-shirt, and stepped toward Won Hajun.
“Hyung, did something happen…!”
“…Gotcha.”
The hand not holding Cheongwoo shot out, grabbing Moondae’s arm in a firm grip. With a satisfied smile, Hajun pulled both of their hands over, resting their palms against his flushed cheeks.
“Haah…”
“…”
The foul, sticky feeling of ghosts clinging to his body washed away under the warmth of living human souls. He wanted to pull one of them into a tight hug and fall asleep right then, but with what little sanity remained, he held back.
“I can breathe now…”
“???”
Korea was no joke—the ghost population here ran wild. The backlash hit three times harder than whenever he caused trouble back in America.
“U-Um… What is going on here…?”
“…”
Lee Sejin, who had been watching the two members get used as living energy batteries, asked a quiet question from his bed, but no answer came from Hajun, who had already drifted off to sleep.
