DDOS 07

Chapter 7

After cleaning the house, Yeo-eun woke Ji-on and washed her.

She didn’t have a single set of clothes to put on the child right away, so, as a temporary measure, she dressed Ji-on in one of her own short-sleeved T-shirts. The little bag Ji-on had been carrying contained nothing but a change of underwear and a few pieces of candy.

How could Lee Hwa-shin abandon the child without even leaving behind a bag with a change of clothes?

Was that why she’d abandoned her in the first place?

Ji-on was a quiet, undemanding child, but she was still a child, so there was no shortage of things Yeo-eun had to do for her.

As she dried Ji-on’s hair and clipped her fingernails, Yeo-eun cursed Lee Hwa-shin inwardly.

Lee Hwa-shin had an innate talent for causing trouble.

And Yeo-eun always ended up getting dragged into that trouble against her will.

This time was no different.

Only after finishing washing Ji-on did Yeo-eun finally get her own turn.

When she stepped into the damp bathroom and washed herself with warm water, she felt as though her body were melting.

She thought she might even have a fever.

She hadn’t slept or eaten properly for far too long over the past two days.

If she had been alone, she would have collapsed into bed and slept first.

But she had to feed Ji-on something.

After washing herself, she heated up a packet of instant rice and fed Ji-on.

There was nothing but seaweed for a side dish, yet Ji-on ate well without complaining even once.

There were more than one or two things Yeo-eun needed to buy tomorrow.

“Unnie, aren’t you eating?”

She had always thought she needed to break her habit of not eating whenever she was stressed.

But changing a habit was difficult.

When Ji-on asked the same question she’d asked yesterday, Yeo-eun told her she’d eat later.

Then she rummaged through a drawer, found some cold medicine, and swallowed it first.

Her stomach burned.

Do I really have to go too?

At the words your brother, Yeo-eun finally remembered all the things she’d been putting off.

Her mother had suddenly appeared, gotten into an accident, and thrown all of this into her lap.

The drama Yeo-eun had been assigned to subtitle this time was the kind of series that seemed as though it would go on forever.

The project had followed her even after the production platform changed.

It was exactly the kind of work Yeo-eun wanted.

She wanted to do well.

She had nearly finished the deadline, too.

It seems like you only need to take the child… I’m not particularly connected to that family anyway…

Why do you think someone broke into your house?

The man had shrugged.

You’ve been connected to them for a long time already.

The danger that had previously felt so distant suddenly seemed to rush right up against her.

Yeo-eun thought for a while.

Was it really right to follow a man she’d only met yesterday?

But for now, it seemed like the best option.

She couldn’t stay in a room that someone—no, someone more dangerous than an ordinary burglar—had already broken into, not with a child.

And it wasn’t as though she had somewhere else to go immediately.

In the end, Yeo-eun gave up this tiny semi-basement studio.

In exchange, she bought herself some time.

Tomorrow. I’ll go tomorrow. I need to pack some things first.

The man said he would come in the morning.

Yeo-eun turned on her laptop, so old that even a petty thief wouldn’t bother stealing it.

It took a long time for the screen to come on.

For several hours, she sat in the same spot, obsessively going over the footage and sentences again and again.

She would have to revise the script even after submitting it anyway, but right now, she needed something she could focus on.

When she finally lifted her head from the monitor, it was already dawn.

As she wrote an email to the person in charge, the letters on the screen began to overlap.

She quickly skimmed the file, attached it, and pressed Send.

She wasn’t completely satisfied with it, but it was close enough to a finished version.

If they sent feedback, she could simply say she’d make a second round of revisions.

“What am I going to do about the other work…”

At first, she’d definitely been sitting upright.

But after writing a few more emails, she somehow found herself lying on her side on the floor.

When she checked the clock, it was already past three in the morning.

Apparently, she’d pushed herself too hard because she was in such a hurry.

Come to think of it, she hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in two full days.

I shouldn’t have taken a hot shower.

She regretted it too late.

Heat was boiling through her entire body.

On the old bed across from her, Ji-on was asleep.

Wearing Yeo-eun’s T-shirt, she looked as though someone had pulled a sack over her body.

The sight was both funny and pitiful, and Yeo-eun smiled.

Her mind was a jumble of fever.

I must have lost my mind.

Yeo-eun pressed her forehead against the cold floor.

It felt cool.

If I were in a hospital, at least I could take some medicine.

She had no idea how many hours passed like that.

The child, exhausted just as much as Yeo-eun, remained deep asleep and never woke.

Lying on the floor, Yeo-eun simply hoped the night and fever would pass.

She was good at enduring things foolishly.

Illness usually got better once the night passed.

That was Yeo-eun’s belief, formed from the countless nights she’d spent alone without her mother.

Then she heard someone knocking on the door.

Someone was calling her name.

Yeo-eun opened her mouth, but no voice came out.

After a small commotion, she saw a faint light through her barely opened eyes.

The front door was opening.

She was certain she’d locked it and even checked it.

Yet the door lock once again played a discordant little melody.

Is a burglar breaking into this house again today, after someone broke in last night?

It was absurd.

Should I have changed the door lock after all?

She needed to scream, but no sound came out, as though someone had clamped a hand over her throat.

Maybe I’m already dead.

Maybe I’ve become a ghost without realizing that I’ve died, lying here and thinking useless thoughts.

Yeo-eun stared at the approaching silhouette and entertained the ridiculous thought.

A man as black as the darkness surrounding him.

An impolite intruder who hadn’t even taken off his shoes.

He looked exactly like the Grim Reaper who had come to take Yeo-eun away.

“Yeah, that door lock really is fucking cheap.”

The Grim Reaper who resembled Ki Seung-do placed his palm against Yeo-eun’s forehead.

The sleeve of his shirt smelled of incense.

His large palm covered both her forehead and the area around her eyes.

Only then did Yeo-eun realize she was crying.

“Fuck.”

The man crushed the curse between his teeth as he picked Yeo-eun up into his arms.

Her thin body was surprisingly light.

“What the hell, why is a person’s body so…”

The man kept using bad language.

He wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t afraid.

That was why she liked it.

It’s not such a bad dream to have before I die.

That was Yeo-eun’s final thought before she completely lost consciousness.

When she first opened her eyes, she thought she was still dreaming.

She was somewhere unfamiliar.

More precisely, she was looking at an enormous, magnificent ceiling she’d never seen before in her life.

“Unnie Kang Yeo-eun!”

It wasn’t until Ji-on, who had been standing at the foot of the bed, burst into tears that Yeo-eun realized she was in the real world.

She was lying on a huge bed she’d never seen before.

At a glance, it was king-sized.

No, it looked even bigger than that.

“Oh my, you’re awake?”

Before Yeo-eun could even ask Ji-on where they were, an unfamiliar middle-aged woman opened the strange door and entered.

Confused, Yeo-eun asked,

“Where is this…?”

“You know Executive Director Ki Seung-do, right? This is his home.”

The woman confirmed what Yeo-eun had already suspected.

She also introduced herself as Kangpyeong-daek.

While Yeo-eun held the sobbing Ji-on in her arms, Kangpyeong-daek explained that Ki Seung-do had brought Yeo-eun here.

If Kangpyeong-daek hadn’t been there, Yeo-eun probably would have immediately grabbed Ji-on and run out of the room.

“The poor little thing waited right by your feet the whole time you were sleeping. Oh, how pitiful. I guess she’s crying now because she’s finally relieved.”

“But…”

Yeo-eun looked around.

The room felt far too lived-in to be a guest room.

It was large, and filled with nothing but men’s belongings.

Kangpyeong-daek noticed what Yeo-eun was about to ask and gave an awkward smile.

“The guest room wasn’t ready at the time, so I think the executive director had you use his bed in a hurry.”

“Oh.”

“Oh my, you don’t have to get up.”

Kangpyeong-daek stopped Yeo-eun as she tried to sit up.

“Stay here until the doctor comes. Your little sister is still crying, too.”

Even though they were on the same bed, the bed was so enormous that Ji-on looked like a tiny island.

Yeo-eun gently patted the sobbing Ji-on.

Holding a child was still an unfamiliar thing to her, but once again, she needed something to hold on to.

The child hadn’t cried even when Lee Hwa-shin abandoned her.

Seeing her cry because of Yeo-eun made her feel strangely unsettled.

Soon, a doctor arrived and examined Yeo-eun’s condition.

“Your fever has gone down, and everything else looks fine. You’ve been asleep for an entire day.”

Yeo-eun was startled to learn that she’d been unconscious for much longer than she’d expected.

“You must have been under a lot of strain. Don’t push yourself for a while. And it would be even better if you could avoid stressful situations.”

Yeo-eun gave a faint smile at the doctor’s seemingly casual yet gentle words.

Inside, she was simply relieved that she’d managed to send all those emails before dawn.

Seeing Yeo-eun smile, the doctor packed up his bag and casually whispered near her ear.

“You’re not staying here against your will, are you? If there’s anything I can do to help, tell me.”

Against my will.

Yeo-eun turned those words over in her mind, but she couldn’t reach a conclusion.

Instead, she gave a small nod and whispered,

“Thank you.”

Yeo-eun tried to piece together the moments just before she’d lost consciousness.

The child who looked like she was wearing a sack.

The cold floor.

The door that opened far too easily while making that strange sound.

The Grim Reaper who had walked in without even taking off his shoes.

She thought she might have unconsciously grabbed the Reaper’s arm at the time.

“Where is Executive Director Ki Seung-do?”

“He went on a business trip.”

“A business trip?”

“Yes. He originally said he’d send the guest elsewhere and leave for his business trip first thing in the morning… But I was so surprised when I saw him come back carrying the guest.”

Guest.

Kangpyeong-daek had called Yeo-eun a guest.

“What about food? First, take a shower. I’ll prepare some food for you, so wash up and have at least a few bites even if you don’t have the strength. Okay?”

“I’m fine… I’ll take care of it myself. You should get back to work.”

“Oh, no, I can’t do that. How could I not properly treat a guest?”

It was already well past mealtime.

Yet Kangpyeong-daek insisted that she couldn’t treat a guest this way, despite Yeo-eun’s refusal.

Both the words guest and hospitality seemed completely out of place in this situation.

A guest who had been carried into the house by its owner and was using the owner’s bed…

A guest.

And yet, somehow, the word made Yeo-eun feel a little less shameless.

It gave her a proper distance from him.

As though this were someone she needed to treat politely because they weren’t too close to each other.

And so, Yeo-eun couldn’t bring herself to pull away from the hand guiding her toward the bathroom.

She was also far too exhausted to insist on having her way.

And so, in a house whose owner wasn’t even there, Yeo-eun washed herself and changed her clothes.

The large, luxurious bathroom showed no trace of human presence.