Chapter 3
I couldn’t tell how the day had passed. The next day came, but Haje’s uneasy feeling didn’t disappear.
“First, let’s just survive.”
But living in reality meant there was too much to do to keep obsessing over what had appeared in the vision.
Of course, the strange wound left on my hand after grabbing the branch the man had offered didn’t leave my mind—it wasn’t something ordinary.
I had to move my business registration, and since my apprentice was going to live here, I also had to prepare a small ancestral offering to ask that they be taken care of.
First, I probably needed to find someone to do the chores. My head throbbed with all these worries.
As I was organizing what I had to do in front of a small feast, I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs outside the door.
“Now it begins, child.”
And my grandmother’s voice echoed in my mind, as if delivering a divine command. She was one of the ancestral spirits I served.
The shock lasted only a moment before a knocking at the door that felt like it could break it made me instantly spring to my feet.
“Open the door! Hey, I know you’re in there!”
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
My hands trembled violently at the rough pounding. Childhood memories rushed back—the days when, despite receiving divine powers, I couldn’t charge for divinations and every day was a struggle.
The debt collectors coming to my house, tormenting my mother during my youth…
Frozen in fear, unable to take a step, I suddenly felt someone nudging my back.
Go on, step out. This is the path you have to walk.
“Since we already know you’re in there, open the door immediately!”
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! At the deafening noise, Haje opened the door with trembling hands.
The sound of the door lock releasing and the door swinging open made me step back a few paces without thinking. Five intimidating men barged into the hallway.
“Is that supposed to be some fortune-telling brat or whatever?”
The man at the front shouted, and Haje straightened her back.
She couldn’t show a timid face. There was no reason to bow to them, not even a little.
“Yes. That’s right. And just who are you, barging into someone’s house this early in the morning?”
The man snorted at her frown. Then he gestured to a man standing behind him, as if telling him to “show her.”
A moment later, the man behind took out his phone, opened something, and shoved the screen in front of Haje.
“You know this guy, right?”
Haje clicked her tongue at the gruff question from the man in front. Some kind of etiquette for visiting someone’s home, apparently. She didn’t like it at all, but she had to check, so she looked.
Then… thud. A sinking feeling hit her chest.
The man in the photo stared straight ahead with a chubby, sullen face.
He looked slightly different in build, but he was definitely the man she’d met yesterday—the villa resident who had come up from the basement.
“…This guy.”
But what shocked Haje wasn’t just that he was the “basement guy” she’d seen yesterday.
“Why… is he dead?”
The man no longer looked alive.
A wound was visible on the right side of his neck. His gaunt face seemed to hold back pain.
Of course, this was only how Haje had seen him through her vision; to others, he probably looked normal.
As expected, the men outside started murmuring. Some looked at Haje in fright, others glared at him with burning eyes, as if blaming her, saying with their gaze that his death was all her fault.
“You know he’s dead?”
The front man’s mocking tone made something surge inside her. Haje clenched her fists tightly and steadied her gaze.
“Speak clearly. Did you meet this guy yesterday, fortune-teller?”
“You should speak properly too. ‘Meet’ or not? We live in the same villa.”
She answered firmly, but it didn’t seem to faze the man. He sighed loudly, cracked his neck, then slammed his fist against the door with a bang!
“Don’t play word games. Just answer the question, got it?”
The anger radiating from him was immense. He must have known the basement man. Or judging by his attitude, he could be the kind of thug who resorts to fists at the slightest provocation.
Haje crossed her arms and glared back. His death was tragic, but that didn’t mean she had to back down.
“Yes, I met him. I was doing laundry yesterday and hung the blankets on the first floor when he came up from the basement.”
“And then?”
“He just handed me a branch and left. Could that be a problem?”
The men murmured among themselves. “He really went down there? He should’ve run, but he walked in on his own?” The muttering was incomprehensible.
“And then he disappeared immediately. I don’t know what happened afterward.”
“You really don’t know?”
“I’m not in a position to lie about what I know. As a fortune-teller, if I lie, I get punished. By the higher-ups.”
When Haje pointed to the sky, the men looked up and then back at her. Their faces twisted in reluctance, showing that her answer hadn’t satisfied them.
How was she going to get through this?
At that moment, the door of the house next door opened. Not a welcome addition, but…
“What’s all this commotion?”
A voice full of annoyance. Amusingly, relief also swept over her.
Dohyeon, unlike petite and frail Haje, was a sturdy man—a physique that made it hard for anyone to casually challenge him.
The men tensed their shoulders, frowning, clearly uncomfortable. Haje wasn’t worried. In the two days she’d seen Dohyeon, he didn’t seem the type to be scared by this kind of situation.
“Look, we came here because we have business with the fortune-teller. Anyone unrelated can step aside, alright?”
“Whoever has business or not, it’s uncomfortable to cause a scene outside.”
The twisted voice made the man scoff. He took off his shoes and forced his way into Haje’s house.
“Alright, let’s settle this inside. Guys, close the door. I’ll talk with the fortune-teller and then leave, so guard the entrance properly.”
“Yes, brother!”
Seeing them bow in unison, Haje realized these were clearly the “thugs” she had imagined.
Still, should they really let them in? Anxious and fearful, she glanced at Dohyeon. Normally, she wouldn’t want to be close to him, but now… she wanted to lean on the idea of a “neighbor.”
Swallowing dryly, she sent him pleading eyes to come in quickly. Dohyeon sighed and approached the front of her house.
“Don’t close the door. Let’s talk right here.”
“And who are you to tell me what to do?”
“So I can be a witness if anything happens. I don’t like unsavory incidents at the doorstep.”
“What a mouth.”
Haje added a word herself, making the man glance between her and Dohyeon, confused. Reasonable—an odd scene, arguing with a sudden man, after all.
“Alright. Speak. I need to know why I’ve been put through this ordeal since morning.”
Strangely, just knowing Dohyeon was guarding the door gave her courage. People really do get stronger when they’re not alone.
Haje sat down with a thud, signaling the man to sit.
“Sit. Standing makes your legs hurt.”
“Ha… everyone here has a stiff neck, huh?”
The man laughed dryly and plopped into a chair, clearly displeased. Then he stared at the photo of the basement man on someone’s phone.
“What happened to him?”
Haje spoke first, and the man cleared his throat. His voice was low and heavy with moisture, as if his throat were choking.
“…He’s dead. Right in front of me.”
A chill ran through her body, making her shiver.
The sharp sensation around her neck made her hair stand on end.
“He stabbed himself in the neck with a knife. And… died. That bastard.”
