JD 4

As Hakyung headed up to the rooftop room, Sang-oh—who had somehow managed to complete the contract—returned to the office.

“Oh? Mr. Muheon, where’s that new employee you said you hired?”

“On the rooftop.”

“Pardon…? For what reason?”

Sang-oh tilted his head in confusion. The rooftop room was a place Muheon only occasionally visited to check the weather. It was considered such a sacred space that not only regular employees but even those with titles dared not enter casually.

And now he’d sent the newcomer he just met today up there? Why on earth?

As Sang-oh rolled his tiny bean-sized eyes, thinking through various possibilities, Muheon narrowed his brow. Unlike the dolphin whose eyes rolled cutely like marbles, Sang-oh’s eyes scraped around awkwardly—something Muheon found thoroughly displeasing.

Without the slightest intent to relax his furrowed brow—offended by the way his subordinate’s appearance clashed with his delicate aesthetic sensibilities—Muheon bluntly replied,

“He’s the one.”

“The one what?”

“The dolphin I rescued not long ago.”

“Whaaat?!”

Eighteen years ago, Muheon, out of sheer laziness, vanished, declaring he would ascend to the human world after sleeping for centuries.

The sea erupted into chaos when Muheon—the imugi ¹A creature from Korean mythology — a type of serpent-like dragon.who ruled the West Sea—vanished overnight. They immediately sent Gi Sang-oh and Park Geowong to land with orders to retrieve him at once.

The two, having emerged from the sea, were prepared to search with fierce determination. But surprisingly, Muheon wasn’t far at all. He was right by the tidal flats next to the passage connecting to the West Sea Dragon Palace.

The moment they stepped onto land, Sang-oh and Geowong spotted him and let out sighs of relief, running straight to his side.

“Lord Muheon!”

“How could you disappear without a word! The land has changed drastically over the past hundred years. You don’t know what might happen if you wander alone!”

They were like overprotective parents scolding a child for going to the playground alone. Muheon lazily waved his hand, as if everything were a bother.

It meant: Be quiet already.

The two, who had served as his closest aides for centuries, immediately shut their mouths. One more word and they could be banished to the famously rough East Sea.

Now that it was finally quiet, Muheon opened his mouth.

“They took him.”

“Pardon…?”

“The dolphin I picked up. I looked away for a second, and he was snatched.”

“Do… dolphin…?”

Were there dolphins in the West Sea? Sang-oh and Geowong blinked at each other in confusion.

In Korea, dolphin tribes were only known to live in the East and South Seas. Just how clueless must he have been to drift all the way to the West Sea?

But more than that—why had Muheon picked up a dolphin in the first place? He was notorious for having no interest in others.

While his subordinates stood there dumbfounded, Muheon was clearly angry.

He’d nearly finished rescuing the dolphin when a human brat snatched him away right in the middle. And just when he had stepped away briefly to help the human shapeshift into a dolphin—like a rat, the kid snuck in and stole him.

The more Muheon thought about it, the more his anger flared. To calm down, he had to recall the voice of the child who had clung to his chest, crying.

“S-save me. Please save me.”

Hair as pink as coral floated delicately with the current. The child had cried in a sweet voice that matched their appearance. The most beautiful thing Muheon had ever seen.

To think this was the first thing he encountered after waking from such a long sleep—impulsive as it was, it hadn’t turned out badly. No, not just not bad—it had been quite good.

And so, uncharacteristically playful, Muheon asked,

“If I save you, what will you give me?”

“Anything, cough, anything at all!”

The child, coughing after likely swallowing some seawater through his small mouth, cried as he promised to do anything. Hearing that promise, Muheon let out a faint smile and shot up above the surface of the water.

“Alright. Since I saved you, you’ll do anything.”

But unfortunately, the child didn’t hear Muheon’s reply—he had already lost consciousness. Tch, clicking his tongue shortly, Muheon dove back into the sea to shift from his imugi form to human. And in that brief moment, the child disappeared.

Not long after, Muheon spotted him in the distance, surrounded by his family, smiling brightly. The child who had clung to him and cried was now smiling even more beautifully.

From that day on, Muheon settled permanently on land. Waiting for the pink dolphin who had promised to do anything to someday come find him.

“So… you’re saying that the dolphin from back then is that janitor we met today?”

“Well, that’s what I’m hoping.”

If Kang Hakyung was that same young river dolphin, and if that dolphin had wandered aimlessly only to end up at a building owned by Muheon—then the odds were more miraculous than winning the lottery.

Could it really be that Hakyung had broken through that enormous coincidence and come looking for him? As Muheon thought about slowly verifying the truth with the dolphin beside him, he couldn’t help the corners of his mouth from lifting.

At the sight of Muheon’s gentle expression—rare in recent times—Sang-oh instinctively furrowed his brows, then quickly lowered his head, fearing he might be scolded for disrespect.

Up until now, Sang-oh and Geowong hadn’t known how Muheon managed to pick up a dolphin from another sea. But since he said he did, they figured it must be true.

Truthfully, they had doubted him a little—thinking perhaps their lord, groggy from his long sleep, had picked one up in a dream.

But now, seeing that he had gone so far as to draw up a contract for a janitor they didn’t even need—they realized he hadn’t been spouting nonsense. And that this dolphin was no ordinary dolphin, either.

“That… dolphin didn’t smell like salt, but like mud.”

“Yeah. He’s a river dolphin.”

“Oh ho, so there are river dolphins in Korea.”

Sang-oh clapped a fist into his palm and gaped. No wonder he never even considered going to the East or South Seas while looking for a dolphin…! So that was why!

Sang-oh let out a relieved expression, like a bad tooth had finally been pulled. How many times had they run themselves ragged between land and sea, knowing nothing? If this dolphin really was that dolphin, then they might finally be able to put an end to this absurd ordeal.

“Then we just need to confirm it, sweet-talk him, and bring him to the Dragon Palace.”

“Hmm… I don’t think that’ll work.”

“…Pardon?”

Sang-oh looked confused. He’d already perfectly simulated the scenario of getting the dolphin into the palace.

“Why not?”

“Kang Hakyung’s afraid of the sea.”

At the mention of the sea, Muheon recalled how Hakyung had trembled all over. Most likely it was because of that accident he wrote about in his self-introduction—something from his childhood, lodged deep in his memory. Thinking back on Hakyung’s fear-stricken face, even if it was just for a moment, Muheon tapped lightly on the sofa armrest.

And yet, the nerve of that kid—writing on his resume that he’d overcome his fear of the sea. Still, that too was kind of cute.

“Th-then what will you do? Even if he’s a river dolphin, fearing the sea is… unusual.”

Like a sparrow scared of flying.

At Sang-oh’s question, Muheon seemed to think for a moment, then reached a simple conclusion.

“Well, there’s no need to take him to the sea right away. I still need to confirm if he really is that river dolphin. We’ve got time, don’t we?”

In other words, Muheon had no intention of returning to the West Sea any time soon. And he still wasn’t entirely sure if Kang Hakyung was the young dolphin he saved.

Seeing no end in sight to this still-not-100%-certain wild goose chase, Sang-oh’s eyebrows drooped in defeat.

***

“U-um, is this… really the dormitory?”

Hakyung glanced around the wide-open rooftop as he asked. No matter how he looked at it, there wasn’t a single structure that resembled a dorm.

The broad rooftop only had a wooden platform and an artificial pond. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would build a pond up here, but aside from that, there was nothing else in sight.

Looking a bit flustered, Geowong chuckled awkwardly and led Hakyung around to the back—revealing a space hidden by the rooftop stairs. There stood a tiled-roof house with a broad wooden hall.”

It was a place Hakyung would never have imagined existing on a rooftop in the middle of Seoul.

His eyes widened to saucers, and his small lips fell open in awe at the palatial structure.

His reaction was only natural. This wasn’t a dorm for employees—it was one of Muheon’s private residences. Who would offer a place like this and call it a dormitory? Even Geowong found it ridiculous.

But when it came to Muheon’s orders, Geowong was in no position to object—not even if he were told to make sugar water from seawater. So he did his best to spin it nicely and spoke slowly.

“Sir Muheon is a very loyal person—he really takes care of his employees’ well-being. And since you’ll be doing tough work, it’s important to eat well and rest well.”

Unfortunately, without a clear subject, his explanation was open to wild interpretation. Hakyung, who kept mulling over the words “loyalty” and “tough work,” came to the conclusion that this company was definitely no ordinary place.

It was only natural that he resolved, right then and there, to keep his head down and behave if he wanted to walk out of here on his own two feet someday.

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  A creature from Korean mythology — a type of serpent-like dragon.