Revenant Resonance Ch 14

Chapter 14

“Yu Jiha! Do you know what time it is and you’re still sleeping? Get up this instant!”

“Ah, Mom… It’s vacation…”

“Right, good thing you reminded me. It’s vacation, so are you going to guzzle down alcohol again today?!”

“……”

Feeling guilty, Yu Jiha quietly got out of bed. After washing up roughly and coming down to the first floor, he found his father eating lunch. Normally, his father would gently take his side when his mother scolded him, but today was not one of those days.

“For a while now, just agree to whatever your mom says, you brat. Do you know how worried she’s been about you at home?”

“Uh…”

His mother’s anxiety, triggered by a call from her son in the middle of the night, had evolved into furious anger. To be honest, he felt unfairly treated. It was true he had drunk excessively, but it wasn’t his fault he was unreachable until after 4 a.m.

His mother’s anger reignited the moment she saw the makgeolli glass his father had taken out to pair with his meal.

“Why are you drinking again?!”

“Honeyyy, I’ve only had one glass…”

“Don’t sweet-talk me! I can’t live with the men in this Yoo family! The father and daughter–like–pair both guzzling from bottles, and now even that little one is learning to drink! Am I now supposed to serve as a caregiver to my son who’s ruined his liver from drinking?!”

Protesting softly that he wasn’t actually hungover would only further fan the flames of his mother’s wrath. Yu Jiha curled himself up on the sofa, trying to make himself invisible. Just then, the doorbell rang. His father, who had been lectured to no end by his wife, exclaimed, “Must be the coffee delivery I ordered earlier!” and without checking, flung the front door open.

Then froze on the spot.

Standing at the front door was not the delivery person, but his grandmother. Her expression turned ice-cold the moment she laid eyes on Yu Jiha.

“What is this? What on earth is this thing doing at home at this hour?”

The sentence ‘Because it’s vacation.’—a rather simple line—just wouldn’t come out of his mouth. Seeing him frozen with instinctive fear, his father finally realized who the visitor was and raised his voice.

“Mother! I told you not to speak to Jiha like that!”

“Am I not even allowed to say this much to someone who ended our family line?”

“Jiha, go to your room.”

His mother shielded him behind her body and pushed him toward the stairs. Yu Jiha barely managed to move his frozen limbs and climbed the stairs. Collapsing onto his bed, he pulled the blanket over his head.

His father’s yelling about why she came unannounced and his grandmother’s impatient complaint about whether he was going to ignore even his father’s memorial day swirled chaotically in his mind.

But most of all, what made his stomach churn was the expression on his grandmother’s face the moment the door opened and:

“Am I not even allowed to say this much to someone who ended our family line?”

Those words had been branded onto him like a stigma.

Only after a long time did the house fall silent. His father knocked and came in, gently stroking the blanket draped over him.

“Grandma’s left. What do you say we have your favorite for dinner tonight, huh?”

“Mm.”

He responded as if he was fine, but his grandmother’s sneer filled with revulsion wouldn’t leave his head.

The group chat with his department classmates exploded later that day with news about Park Junyeol’s situation. Apparently, he’d drunkenly entered a construction site, fallen asleep there, and was injured in an accident. People were saying his arm had to be amputated during surgery. The news twisted his stomach.

‘So it was his arm after all…’

As the image of the delusional man tossing his own arm resurfaced, it was overlapped by Park Junyeol’s face, who had deliberately tripped him. If only the senior hadn’t run off alone—could they have escaped when they’d met Je Ilheon?

Yu Jiha dispersed the thought with a heavy sigh. Reliving it would only darken his mood. His mind was already cluttered. And for good reason—namely, the Management Bureau.

He hadn’t told anyone about what had happened a few days ago. The reason wasn’t just because people wouldn’t believe him.

“Language has power. If it’s observed that you’ve mentioned the Bureau to an ordinary person, a fine will be imposed under the guise of gambling debt.”

“How much?”

“Five million won per instance. Including the number of people it spreads to.”

“…!”

According to Mr. Jang, if Yu Jiha told Person A about the Bureau, then he’d be fined 15 million won if A passed it onto B and C. A would be fined ten million himself. If B and C passed it further, the fines would increase exponentially. It was a truly capitalist way to silence people.

He consoled himself with the thought that it might be better for his parents to believe their son was a shameless drunk rather than make them pay tens of millions in debt over a so-called gambling issue…

Despite the self-justification, the corners of his mother’s tear-lined eyes wouldn’t vanish from memory, and tears pricked his own. Maybe this was for the best. He should quit drinking now and restore the health of his liver and stomach.

He turned on his optimism circuitry and went back to thinking.

He had searched terms like “Monster Offering Bureau,” “Monster So,” and “Monster Mae,” but nothing came up. Realizing that the Bureau must be censoring Internet information sent shivers down his spine. Could he really join such a terrifying organization…?

“They say it’s a government office, but the salary is outrageously high…”

Its average salary rivaled that of major corporations, yet the job offered guaranteed tenure. The staff benefits were astonishing. Even vacation days were on par with Europe. At that rate, calling it a public sector job felt deceptive.

Anyone would be tempted by such terms. Yu Jiha, who had felt little urgency about employment as a second-year student yet to fulfill military service, found his heart racing upon seriously considering it.

The catch was that, all this pay and benefits came with one crucial caveat—hazard allowance.

“Those who possess the Eye of Clarity* are always placed in the Investigation and Exploration Division.”

[*Editor’s note: The “Eye of Clarity” refers to a supernatural trait or ability that allows the bearer to perceive or interact with paranormal phenomena.]

Just as monsters stem from human nature, the Eye of Clarity was said to originate from human desire to be protected from such monstrosities. Knowing that he possessed it didn’t change anything physically or visibly.

On the contrary, those who had it were supposedly less likely to interact with corrupted entities in the real world due to innate repulsion. This meant that unless he joined the Bureau, he could simply have his memory erased and continue living a normal life.

If he joined, however, he’d have to actively seek out bizarre phenomena like those at Palsang Psychiatric Hospital and deal with monsters—those that drank human blood and severed limbs.

Trading one’s life in exchange for a hefty corporate salary, versus job hunting as a humanities student.

And it wasn’t just any humanities department. He was majoring in Folklore Studies, the kind of major where, when told, people responded with, “So, are you going to work at a folk village?”

Well, honestly, if he could work at a folk village, he’d gladly crawl from Suwon to Yongin on his knees…

A heavy sigh escaped. He wanted to confide in someone who understood his situation but had no one to turn to. The only adult who might understand and be willing to help wouldn’t even answer his calls.

“…If they erase my memory, won’t that include memories of him too?”

The man’s gentle smile, who had closed the car door and said, “Get home safe,” surfaced in his mind. If his memory were erased, that smile too would disappear.

His unwavering back, the way he kept watch silently by his side as he slept—all these would have to be carved out for good. Imagining it, it felt less like forgetting a memory and more like losing a piece of his heart forever.

Once more, the swamp of indecision that had plagued him dragged him in. As he writhed on the sofa, his phone rang.

It was a call from the Bureau.

“Apologies for contacting you suddenly.”

“No worries. I’m on break, so I don’t have anything to do anyway.”

Yu Jiha gave a respectful nod to Deputy Jang, who had driven all the way to Seoul Station to pick him up. The call he received from the Bureau yesterday mentioned that an internal task had arisen and they needed his assistance. Mr. Jang couldn’t tell him much over the phone, but had assured him it wasn’t dangerous—and that reassurance had led to Yu Jiha reluctantly returning to the Bureau.

The mention of a financial reward played a small part in his decision, but mostly, he was hopeful that he might see Je Ilheon again. If he wasn’t there, Yu Jiha at least planned to ask for his contact information.

As they began the drive, Deputy Jang explained the reason for the sudden summons.

“It’s about the entity that exited Palsang Psychiatric Hospital with you, sir.”