MDQ Ch 38

As I mulled over Kang Kimoon’s kindness, absurd as it was, one of his famous songs suddenly came to mind.

The song was titled “Nightmare,” and it told the story of a man tormented by nightmares, yearning for salvation. In the lyrics, the narrator flailed helplessly, wandering endlessly through a sea of mist, as if bewitched by something unseen.

Thinking of that much, I found myself speaking aloud without meaning to.

“Was that song ‘Nightmare’ also inspired by something you went through?”

“I guess that wasn’t a lie when you said you are a fan.”

“…”

“Yes, you’re right. I wrote that song here.”

“You weren’t wandering in the mist, longing for salvation too, were you?”

“It would be a lie to say I never had days like that. Doesn’t everyone carry at least one painful story?”

I nodded without hesitation.

Even people who seemed to live perfectly well usually had some kind of sorrow in their hearts.

And suddenly, I grew curious about what had weighed on Kang Kimoon.

What had blocked the path of someone who had lived a life of success, as though failure didn’t exist for him?

And if I came to know his story, maybe—just maybe—he would understand mine, too.

“Can I ask what your story is?”

Kang Kimoon countered with a question of his own, “Then can you tell me yours?”

Slowly, I shook my head.

“Then leave it buried. I won’t ask either, unless you tell me first.”

“…”

“But instead of telling me, if you can turn it into music, maybe it’ll help with what you’ve been wanting to do.”

It was the kind of thing anyone could say.

But because it came from someone who had already succeeded as a lyricist, the words struck me differently, like a welcome rain.

Not just being a manager but even writing lyrics… I was about to give up everything that had defined me for the past three years, so why do I feel such an urge to express this suffocating feeling in writing?

It was like my heart had grown damp, soaked through by rain.

Unaware of my thoughts, Kang Kimoon continued with his advice.

“To put the current situation simply… well, something like: ‘I was floundering in a mire where I couldn’t even hope for salvation, yet hope still exists…’ wouldn’t be a bad way to describe it, right?”

“And hope… is that you?”

“It could be me. Or it could be the villagers here, who hope you won’t die. Or it could be you yourself, recognizing our feelings.”

“…”

“In the end, the only one who can truly save you is yourself.”

That I was the only one who could save myself. I mouthed those words silently.

They were nothing new, something anyone could have said, something I already knew—but hearing them from Kang Kimoon made them feel strangely special.

“What’s this? Thanks to you, I feel like my slump has lifted a little. I’ve thought of some lyrics I want to write.”

“That’s good.”

“Seems I owe you. Since it’s come to this, I’ll make sure to take good care of you.”

“…”

“You know, I’m someone who always repays his debts.”

A slanted smile spread across Kang Kimoon’s face. It was the kind of beautiful smile that made me want to smile back.

“Do you need anything?”

I thought for a moment, then suddenly something came to mind.

“A phone?”

“…”

“Living without one isn’t so bad, but… on a day like today, I think I need it. The problem is, I don’t have the courage to use it without changing my number.”

“Is that so? Then let’s change it today.”

“Here?”

Could I really change my number out here, in this place with nothing but grass and crows?

“Nothing’s impossible.”

“If that’s the case, then let’s do it.”

“But first, let’s have breakfast. You look even thinner than yesterday.”

Without waiting for my reply, Kang Kimoon was already walking ahead, telling me to sit quietly on the sofa until the food was ready.

Obediently, I sat down on the sofa and stared absentmindedly out the window opposite.

As if to mock what had happened at dawn, the scenery outside was perfectly clear.

---

Breakfast was, of course, excellent. Kang Kimoon’s skills were so impressive that he could have succeeded as a chef instead of a lyricist.

No—was there anything he couldn’t do? He even seemed capable of farm work. Successful people really were different from ordinary ones.

After eating with him, I stepped outside and immediately ran into the ladies who had shown me kindness before.

Judging by the dirt smudging their clothes, they had come rushing here straight from the fields.

Their sharp eyes studied me closely as they all began to speak at once.

“Oh dear, young man! I heard you almost got into serious trouble at dawn. You promised you wouldn’t think of doing anything foolish, didn’t you? Hmm?”

“Good thing nothing serious happened. My heart nearly stopped when I heard the news.”

“If the crows lure you, it’s dangerous! You must be really careful!”

How on earth did word spread so fast?

It was as if they already knew everything that had happened to me this morning.

I glanced at Kang Kimoon in confusion.

“That’s just how it is in the countryside. Someone must’ve seen me dragging you back.”

Just then, the woman who owned Ohyun Supermarket pressed something into my hand.

“Here, eat this and cheer up. It’s what the young folks buy the most from our store—our bestseller!”

The so-called bestseller turned out to be an orange sausage. I hadn’t had one since elementary school.

Clutching it tightly, I felt a warmth in my chest, as if even my heavy heart was comforted by something so simple.

“Thank you. I’ll enjoy it. And about what happened this morning—it was just an accident.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I… I have no intention of dying here.”

Even so, the ladies didn’t seem fully convinced. One after another, they patted my back with affectionate hands, as if I were their own child.

Only after telling Kang Kimoon to take good care of me, like parents entrusting their son, did they finally return to the fields.

“They’re truly wonderful people.”

“If you’re grateful, then don’t think about dying.”

Kang Kimoon answered playfully before ushering me into the car parked behind his house.

After about thirty minutes, we arrived at a small town.

Unlike the village that only had a supermarket, the town had several shops. Among them was a phone store.

All I needed was a new number, but Kang Kimoon insisted on getting me a new phone too. It seemed he was acquainted with the shop’s owner.

I turned on my old phone to back up all my messages and photos.

There were far more messages than I’d expected. Park Chungrim was still worried about me, and surprisingly, even the managers I had once worked with had reached out.

They asked where I was, said they would testify for me if I wanted—messages that tried to give me courage.

Thankfully, I had long since blocked the Given members, so nothing came from them. But I did see one last message—from my father.

– “Hyunseok-ah, where are you? If you see this message, I’d like you to come right away… I have something urgent to tell you.”

Something urgent?

Was he trying to introduce me to the new woman he had met?

Did he really feel nothing about the fact that I disappeared under a cloud of disgrace?

If he’d been worried, wouldn’t he have asked how I was first, instead of sending a message like that?

I had never expected him to change, but his unchanging attitude still suffocated me.

“Haa…”

I let out a heavy sigh. I thought I’d run out of reasons to be disappointed in him, but there it was again.

Just then, as if timed to that sigh, a new notification appeared at the top of my screen. The preview alone was shocking enough.

– “Chief! It’s chaos right now ㅠㅠ Yohan says he’s quitting… the managers are protesting, the company’s a mess… I really miss you ㅠㅠ Where are you?”

It was a desperate message from Chulmin, who had often cried to me back then.

But this time, it shocked even me. Jung Yohan was leaving?

While Kang Kimoon was busy talking to the shop owner, I opened a browser and searched “Jung Yohan withdrawal.”

In an instant, countless articles flooded the screen.

From power-abused manager to plagiarism… Given’s leader Jung Yohan declares withdrawal amid endless scandals.

It was something unbelievable, even when I saw it with my own eyes. For a moment, I even had the absurd thought of wanting to contact Jung Yohan.

But I didn’t have the courage. All I could do was tap anxiously at my phone screen with my fingertips.

That was when a shadow fell over the screen.

Before I could even close the article about Jung Yohan’s withdrawal, a low voice came from above me.

“Hyunwoo, it seems like you’re reading something interesting.”

It was Kang Kimoon’s voice, arriving without me realizing when he had come closer.