PHUW 24

To be honest, even the slightest frown from Jeong Mok was terrifying. Haeri had seen with his own eyes what the man could do to someone when he was angry, leaving them a bloodied mess.

“I’m not really sure. Probably… I can’t.”

“Then when I’m not here, you’ll have to take a taxi or bus. The bus stop’s far from our neighborhood, so you’ll need to take a taxi. That means you’ll need an app to call one, and I can’t do that for you every time. And you’ll need a transit card. Do you have one?”

When the hospital returned his belongings, there had been no phone, no wallet. That was how he’d ended up a nameless man. The question, though obvious, was really a rebuke.

“No.”

He shook his head, subdued.

Jeong Mok got up, pulled a wallet from his back pocket, and took out a silver card from among the muted-colored ones inside, placing it on top of the phone.

“Use this. It has a transit card function.”

When Haeri tried to push the phone away, the card stuck to it like a lump.

If Jeong Mok were truly a close, trusted hyung-nim, Ahn Haeri would have snatched it up without hesitation and shoved it deep into his pocket before it could be taken back.

Maybe he should just say he’d get a phone plan himself if he could get an advance on his salary.

“You don’t have to give me this… If you give me my salary in advance, I can set up the phone myself… Even half of it in advance, if the salary feels too high…”

“That measly fifty million won salary feels too high? You think I’m doing all this for money?”

“….”

It wasn’t that. Haeri just couldn’t lift his head, his eyes dropping to the floor.

“The hospital bill alone was over forty million. If it was about money, I’d have mentioned a settlement fee first.”

“Forty…?” The unexpectedly huge number made him snap his head up.

“Without your name, it wasn’t covered by insurance. And even if we found your name, I doubt you’d have national health insurance.”

His words were a bit harsh, and Haeri gaze dropped again.

“I was planning to bring it up later, after we got to know each other better. But since you mentioned it first, should we talk about it now? How about fifty million in advance as accident compensation? That’s not counting the hospital bill.”

“F… fifty million?” (Around 36k$)

The number startled him. And what exactly was accident compensation anyway? Why was he even offering money?

“Not enough?”

“No, it’s just…”

“Then make it a hundred million.” (72k$)

“It’s not that… I mean…”

Who in their right mind would refuse a hundred million? Haeri snapped his mouth shut and stabbed at his melted ice cream. Why the sudden jump to such an amount? What kind of windfall was this?

‘No. Calm down, Ahn Haeri. It might just be talk. Until the money’s in your hands, don’t trust it completely.’

“Since we’re on the subject, tomorrow morning we’ll go to the community center to get your ID reissued, then straight to the bank.”

With that, Jeong Mok picked up his coffee cup and stood. Haeri thought he’d drink it, but instead, he poured the untouched coffee straight down the sink. He looked genuinely angry.

He handed over a glass of cold barley tea.

“Take your evening medicine, leave the cup, and when you head in, take the phone and card with you.”

His voice was cold as he left the kitchen. He didn’t look back and went straight to his room.

Haeri hadn’t said anything truly offensive, was it just that bringing up money bruised the pride of a rich man? Or maybe he really was sincere, but felt wronged by the suspicion.

Even so, he hadn’t told Haeri to leave. In fact, he’d told him to take the phone and card.

Ahn Haeri did as told, took the evening medicine and poured the melted ice cream into the coffee-stained sink, rinsed it down, washed the cup and spoon, and left them there.

He put the phone, still in its box, into the paper bag on the table, holding the card separately in his hand. On his way to his own room, he stopped outside the one Jeong Mok had entered. It was, of course, the large bedroom he’d seen earlier.

“Hyung-nim, thank you for the phone. I’ll use it well. And I’m sorry for bringing up something unnecessary. Have a good rest!”

He called out loudly toward the door, then quickly retreated to his room. Pressing the door shut with his back, he froze when he heard movement outside. For a moment, he feared Jeong Mok might come over, but the sound didn’t approach. It lingered briefly, faded away, then came back.

“Get some good rest too.”

The same gentle low voice as when they’d first met. Only when Jeong Mok’s footsteps moved back to his own room did Haeri’s body, still leaning against the door, slide down to the floor.

“Hehe.”

The smile came on its own. It wasn’t just because of the hundred million settlement or the new phone.

Haeri grabbed the brand-new phone and flopped onto the bed. His grin almost reached his ears. Sure, he’d pushed it away earlier, but honestly, ever since regaining his senses in the hospital, he’d really, really wanted one. To his surprise, the messenger app was already installed.

Resting his chin on the pillow, he eagerly tapped the yellow button. The familiar screen reflected brightly in his brown irises.

He’d thought that once he had a phone with messenger, he could quickly reconnect with friends and acquaintances. But that hope died fast, thanks to the cursed “identity verification” requirement.

Trying to recover his account required email or phone verification. If he could remember his email, there’d be no problem. And the phone was, of course, under Jeong Mok’s name, naturally, since Haeri had no ID.

“Damn it.”

Frustration made him smack the phone against his palm. Then he thought of trying telecom company verification, but that also required ID. Life was hard without a phone in your own name.

If it were a friend’s or family member’s phone, he could ask them to verify for him. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask Jeong Mok, not after souring the mood earlier. The thought of that awkward dinner table was enough to make him drop the idea entirely.

“As soon as I get my ID, I’m getting my own phone. Seriously.”

The irritation brought back a dull ache in his head.

“Calm down. Calm down.”

He lay still, taking deep breaths. Then his gaze fell to the card still in his hand.

The silver card had a sleek design, with long numbers and the name [Jeong Mok] printed in English.

“So that’s his real name.”

“Mok” as a given name was unusual¹. Turning the card over, Haeri suddenly grabbed the phone he’d set aside and downloaded a search app. He typed in ‘Jeong Mok.’

“Huh?”

A Buddhist nun popped up. Not just any nun, apparently Korea’s first female monk DJ². The name turned out to be a Buddhist term³, and search results were filled with related religious content. Even adding “32-year-old male” brought up the same results.

Trying NeoTube yielded the same. The DJ nun was surprisingly famous, with videos everywhere.

Haeri racked his brain. He installed nearly every SNS app he could think of, searching for ‘Jeong Mok’ each time. Occasionally, there’d be a promising account, but the listed age or gender didn’t match, or the background was completely different, or the account was locked.

He tried searching with the neighborhood name and car model, even cross-referencing with ‘freelancer.’ Nothing. Every time, that Buddhist DJ would pop back into view.

“Is this some divine message to achieve enlightenment?”

He checked the card again.

“What if I just ran off with this?”

Of course, he wouldn’t. The moment he tried, the card would be blocked, and he’d be caught, earning himself a theft charge and a pair of silver bracelets. But why trust someone whose only known detail was their name?

‘Does he treat everyone like this? Lucky for him I have some conscience. If I were the type to use the accident as leverage for blackmail, he’d be in trouble.’

Lying back, he stared at the ceiling. The more he thought about it, the stranger Jeong Mok seemed.

‘From the way he takes care of things, he doesn’t seem slow. So what does he actually do?’

He thought of how Jeong Mok had carried his light medicine bag himself, opened the car door for him like a chauffeur, buckled his seatbelt, and even washed his hair.

No matter how he looked at it, there were only two possibilities, either he was a criminal trying to use Haeri, or a pervert trying to use him in another way.

“Probably the latter.”

Haeri rolled over, sat up smoothly, and rubbed the goosebumps from his arms. His fingers scratched at his jaw, though it wasn’t itchy.

“No. No, that can’t be it. He doesn’t seem gay at all.”

Most gay men had a certain… vibe. Jeong Mok didn’t give that off at all. Unless there were gay men who didn’t seem gay.

“…There must be, right?”

One thought led to another, spiraling endlessly.

Before he knew it, he was on his phone, hopping between portals and NeoTube, searching “gay.” The world turned out to be wide, with all kinds of gay men.

At some point, he’d watched about a hundred gay videos. His head throbbed, and with the medicine taking effect, sleepiness set in. Holding his phone, he closed his eyes.

After using only a hospital bed, lying in a high-end bed felt luxurious, no aches, just softness. In a bed like this, his dreams would be good too. His consciousness drifted.

Just before sleep took him, one small thought crossed his mind.

Hadn’t he fallen asleep on the sofa earlier? Then why had he woken up in bed?

The drowsiness from the medicine blurred the question away, and soon, the sound of his breaths filled the room.

1. Korean names usually consist of a one-syllable family name followed by a two-syllable given name. And Mok does exist as a Korean family name, but it is quite rare. ↩︎
2. Dj as Disc Jockey ↩︎
3. 목 (Mok) same character as in wooden fish(mokeo) , often used in rituals usually involving the recitation of sutras, mantras, or other Buddhist texts.  ↩︎