US 03

Chapter 3

There are a few things on Mangul Island you should never trust.

The weather, and then the village bus. The timetable posted at the town bus stop is essentially meaningless. Arrival times depend entirely on the driver’s discretion. They said things improved after the county governor changed, but that must have only lasted a while.

Se-im, who had been sitting at the stop, lowered her phone. She had already been waiting for thirty minutes for a bus that might never come. The streetlights were already on.

Frogs croaked noisily, and mosquitoes clung to her skin in a disgusting swarm — it could have been a summer night just like any other…

But Se-im frowned and turned her head to the other side. A car parked right beside the stop was blasting its headlights.

“How long are you going to stay there?”

Cha Tae-mok, his mouth stretched into a lazy grin, took a drag of his cigarette. She didn’t know how many he’d had, but it looked like at least two. Through the car window, she could see the smoke hazing outward.

Soon, an arm with shirt sleeves rolled up rested on the lowered window.

“Until your lungs rot completely?”

Despite the expensive watch on his wrist, the hand flicking the cigarette ash was utterly careless.

Se-im quietly gazed at his eyes, half-hidden beneath his lids. They were fragments of memory tied to those days gone by. Endlessly dry, yet when he narrowed the corners of his eyes, a faint flicker of life stirred within them.

Cha Tae-mok’s eyes.

He probably knew that she had liked those eyes. Given how he would casually crinkle the corners of his eyes whenever he needed something, and then poke her cheek.

‘Now, give me those dimples.’

When he smiled, little wells would form on both of his cheeks. She actually liked that bad habit of his, pressing his index finger into them as he pleased. The reason she waited all through the seasons for summer, because when he wasn’t around, there was no one to show those wells to.

It had to be summer.

That child, who had to spend every vacation on this island because it was his grandfather’s hometown, was a visitor who only came in summer.

A sudden surge of memories made her throat tighten.

Creeeak— Creeeak—

The sound of the insects was strangely comforting.

Se-im withdrew her gaze and stared straight ahead. She didn’t want to superimpose the present version of him onto the film she had already cut away.

Because he was no longer the child who came to spend summer here.

Now he was the headquarters director of Hoemok Group, who had come to destroy Mangul Island.

“It seems the director has nothing to do.”

“I don’t. Nothing to do, no woman to see.”

“What?”

“There’s no one who’d complain even if you took the seat next to me.”

That one sentence finally brought a silence.

Feeling the air grow heavy, Se-im looked at him again. He was scrubbing his hands vigorously with a wet wipe, his expression indifferent.

His own heart had cracked at the words he had just thrown out. But he acted so unbothered.

Those words were clearly a deception.

“Go.”

At least to herself, who had been swept away by that excitement back then, it was deception.

“Go, I said.”

But the man, as if he’d heard her warning only with the back of his ear, got out of the car.

His figure walked slowly toward her, both hands shoved into his pants pockets, backlit by the headlights. It felt slightly surreal.

For no reason, her heart felt itchy, and she slid her gaze downward. Into her lowered field of vision came his shiny leather shoes.

“Getting tired of saying the same thing, aren’t you? Just wastes my breath. Just get in and be done with it.”

“No.”

“The bus has stopped running.”

Startled, Se-im raised her eyes. His smile, completely devoid of malice, somehow made her uneasy.

“To be precise, I stopped it.”

Instantly drenched in dismay, she shot up from her seat.

“Then other people can’t take it either, can they?”

Cha Tae-mok stared intently at Se-im’s face, flushed with anger, then gave a low laugh.

That was exactly the expression he had expected.

From the moment he overheard the housekeeper’s phone call telling her to buy some oriental melons from the town, he had pictured that face. It was exactly as he had imagined.

With another short laugh, Cha Tae-mok lightly picked up the two plastic bags resting on the bench. He tossed them into the back seat, then opened the passenger door.

“The night is dark, your luggage is heavy, and because of Han Se-im, other people can’t take the bus either — a real mess in every way.”

He tilted his head, gesturing toward the inside of the car.

“So get in now.”

Se-im resisted, but eventually approached reluctantly. Her anger had not subsided. The fact that he could wield power on Mangul Island in the name of Hoemok was truly dreadful.

“Fine, I’ll get in. But put the bus back the way it was.”

She hated him as he slowly nodded, eyes closed. Still, she had no choice but to get in.

As she climbed into the passenger seat and pulled the seatbelt, the door closed.

Soon after, the man in the driver’s seat pressed the accelerator gently.

Se-im stared only outside through the lowered window. Even as the onrushing wind tousled her eyelashes, she kept her eyes fixed on the side mirror. As expected, it only reflected the dark night road.

But it wasn’t long before she began to see lights like the eyes of a beast behind the car.

They looked exactly like headlights. The gap was closing quickly, and the shape became clearer.

A large, rectangular form.

It was familiar.

No way…

Se-im turned her gaze to Tae-mok as if dumbfounded.

The village bus was coming.

Her habit of waking up early came from her long years as a test-taker. It was an early morning like any other, but today’s scenery was a little different. The house, where the news was always playing, was silent.

The absent family members were probably just beyond the wall.

Now that the lights were on at the mansion, it was only natural that the housekeepers would be busy. She could clearly picture her father cutting the grass in the front yard and her aunt preparing the meal.

Swallowing a sigh, Se-im took out some cereal, had a quick breakfast, and sat down at her desk. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t open her exam prep books while on Mangul Island, yet every day she unfolded them anyway.

But it wasn’t long before she let go of the pen she had been holding.

She couldn’t concentrate at all. Even when she picked up the pen again and pressed down on each character, nothing changed.

‘See you tomorrow.’

That playful, low voice replayed in her mind once more, rummaging through her entire head. It was what he had said at the gate last night, when she had to get out of his car. See you tomorrow.

Eventually, Se-im took out her earphones. Plugging both ears seemed like the best option.

It was almost time to go to school. Wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and jeans, she put on her backpack. Her hand automatically reached out and nearly touched her lipstick, startling her, but in the end, what she picked up was lip balm.

As she lightly patted her lips, there was a knock.

“Eat some oriental melon before you go.”

On the plate her aunt brought lay perfectly sliced melon. At that moment, Cha Tae-mok’s face flashed in her mind — taking a big bite out of an unpeeled melon and grinning. This was clearly a disaster.

“I’ve quit oriental melon.”

“What kind of talk is that?”

“I don’t eat it. Oriental melon.”

“Oh dear. Who’s going to eat all that melon? Earlier, Tae-mok—”

Her aunt, as if realizing her mistake, pursed her lips and quickly corrected herself.

“I mean, the director bought a box of melon this morning and gave it to us.”

Se-im scowled fiercely. He knew perfectly well that she was avoiding melon. What kind of mischief was this now?

“Give it away.”

“Give it away to whom? Do we have any neighbors?”

The hillside neighborhood, packed with houses, was in fact all empty homes. The one who had methodically driven them out was Hoemok Group, watching over Mangul Island from the very top.

They had accurately discerned the residents’ desires. For families needing money, they offered money; for families hungry for their children’s education, they offered scholarship programs. Only her family must have been a headache.

Her father, who needed the most secluded shelter, wanted nothing but this house at the top.

So, as if dispensing charity, they had offered him a position managing the mansion. Even though he would only stay for a single season. The salary, given all year round, was ultimately nothing more than a bribe to drive him off this land.

Ah, they also said that once the resort was built, they would build another mansion in a remote corner of Mangul Island. And that they would provide separate staff quarters next to it.

Her aunt and father genuinely considered that a great blessing.

Ready to leave, Se-im slipped her feet into her sneakers. “Right, Se-im,” her aunt said, following her to the front door, opening a case and looking at her phone.

“Oh, that thing. I called about the water, electricity, and gas for the house downstairs. For the electricity, they said someone has to come by in person.”

“Oh, really?”

“I think we’ll have to wait until next week.”

“Okay. Thanks, Aunt. But where’s Dad?”

“He seems busy — there are a lot of places that need fixing.”

Standing on the old tiles, Se-im looked at the picture frame hanging on the living room wall. A woman with one eye faded to white smiled gently.

That single photograph explained everything about where her sunken cheek dimples came from.

That was her mother.

“I’ll be back, Aunt.”

Leaving the house, passing the wide wooden porch, Se-im pulled the gate handle. Creeeak — the rusty iron hinge, as always, groaned loudly.

She was just about to cross the threshold.

“……”

Her feet came back to their original place.

Because there was something lying in front of the gate.