CH 15
Grandfather Kang Chun-soo swallowed the remaining coix seed tea and then vanished into light.
Where he had disappeared, faint particles of light could be seen falling.
As I stared blankly ahead, a system message popped up.
[The deceased Kang Chun-soo has ascended.]
[A reward is granted to ‘Jeongjikhan’ from KarMa Entertainment for assisting in his ascension.]
[200 Gil (吉) have been awarded.]
200 Gil?!
I was told the minimum was 100, but I received double that.
All Jeongjikhan had done was listen carefully to Grandfather Kang Chun-soo’s story.
‘Is this why the employees at the café only listened to stories?’
It seems that just listening to stories accumulates Gil, so they didn’t need to put in more effort.
Jeongjikhan checked the address written in his notebook and, while watching the slowly dispersing light particles, murmured,
“I truly hope… we’ll meet again up there.”
Kang Chun-soo, who had turned into light and disappeared, found himself alone in a space bathed in pure, radiant white.
As a white robe approaching him.
Chun-soo.”
“Who gate made of cypress wood, and the final destination of your heavy.
He thought he hadibly distant.
Memories flooded, and the faded memories of dedicating joys.
Kang Chun-so but now he couldn’t holdHe cried like a child, trud Chun-soo stammered, smile.
Kang Chun-so was waiting for you to carry me.” distance.
Kang Chun-so, playfully climbed onto his back I’ve shrunk, or before walking toward the gate adorned with waited below all this time?”
grandmother asked, the grandfather halted and even a king with three thousand conc curled into a tender smile.
with cherry blossoms. The grandmother gazed
“…….”
“And thewood gate stood before cherry blossoms in catching a falling petal grants a smiled shyly and said,
ful that you’d forget.” as dense as ever.”
“Just looking at that house’s gate puts me in such a good mood.”
The memories of that day overlapped, and the two smiled brightly as they opened the cypresswood gate and stepped inside.
“I’ll be back.”
“Thank you. Please visit us again.”
“It was delicious.”
“Thank you.”
When the clock struck 3 a.m., all customers had left the shop.
Jeongjikhan opened the karmic ledger and checked his current stock of Fortune (吉).
[Fortune (吉): 246]
[Great Fortune (大吉): 0]
[Minor Misfortune (小凶): 0]
[Great Misfortune (大凶): 0]
It had instantly jumped to 246.
Though brewing coffee and listening to stories mattered, the Fortune gained from helping souls find peace exceeded all expectations.
‘Like receiving four months’ rent in one shot.’
He examined his karma with satisfaction before flipping open the notebook on the counter.
The real problem began now.
The Restaurant for the Dead shared operating hours with the Café for the Dead.
He needed to take leave to visit—but how could Jeongjikhan request time off after working less than a week?
No solution emerged no matter how he agonized.
He grabbed his phone and called Team Leader Cha Seung-pyo.
Brrrt— Brrrt— Click—
After several rings, Cha Seung-pyo’s voice answered urgently:
-Yes, Jeongjikhan-ssi!
“Team Leader, are you free to talk now?”
-Make it quick!
“Can I take a day off?”
Jeongjikhan cut straight to the chase.
Instead of a reply, metallic clangs erupted through the receiver:
-Clang! Krrshhk—! Clang!
Was he… fighting ghosts while taking this call?
Jeongjikhan forced a strained smile.
“I’ll contact you later. You seem occupi—”
-Not permitted!
“The leave request?”
-Complete one month first!
Of course—every company had probation periods.
Even the underworld’s bureaucracy followed similar rules.
Jeongjikhan hung up, swallowing his frustration.
‘The Restaurant for the Dead will have to wait a month.’
He circled the date in his notebook, then noticed next month was November.
His sister’s college entrance exam month.
He wanted to support her but…
‘I’d just distract her.’
He’d help after the exam.
College acceptances demanded funds—tuition, laptops, tablets.
Others bought these for their children. Jeongjikhan, a middle school graduate, had never received such luxuries.
He’d hidden his envy while watching students in department jackets, or families celebrating admissions at department stores.
His sister Jeong Su-hye wouldn’t face that emptiness.
“Focus!”
Jeongjikhan wrote tomorrow’s tasks in his notebook.
One step at a time.
Five days passed in routine repetition.
“Jeongjikhan-ssi! Here!”
Director Kim waved urgently in the distance.
Jeongjikhan rushed over, only for the director to sling an arm around his shoulder.
“This is Jeongjikhan-ssi! Perfect for our project, yes?”
The staff received Jeongjikhan’s deep bow.
“Hello! I’m Jeongjikhan! Your guidance is appreciated!”
“So energetic,” the sound director remarked flatly.
“Where’d you find him?”
“Caught him extra work! Haha!”
“You personally scouted him?”
“If not me, another studio would’ve. Sequence doesn’t matter!”
Such opportunities were rarer than catching stars—the staff’s faces confirmed it.
After Grandpa Kang Chun-soo’s peaceful passing, Jeongjikhan had contacted Director Kim, who’d summoned him despite missing contracts or agencies.
Now Jeongjikhan stood on set, honoring his promise to star in Kim’s web drama for broadcast company access.
“Web dramas wrap quickly,” Director Kim said while leading him to the “waiting area”—a corner with folding chairs.
“I’ve never acted. What if I cause issues?”
“Haha! Your face has charm—it works!”
“But the script describes a stoic role…”
“Exactly! Your face fits stoic!”
Baffled but obedient, Jeongjikhan trailed Kim to meet three actors glued to their scripts.
“Calling this a ‘waiting room’ is generous,” Kim laughed awkwardly.
“Chairs suffice. Thank you.”
“Rest here. Mingle!”
After Kim left, Jeongjikhan bowed.
“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Jeongjikhan.”
One man, two women. None looked up from their scripts.
