“Then your move-in date will be a week from now, and the utility bills will be settled and handed to you when you move in, so you can just pay them together with that month’s payment. And these are the documents checked off on the Confirmation and Explanation of Brokerage Object form. As you can see, there are no rights established other than ownership, right? Here—if you look at the certified copy of the registry, you can see there’s no senior mortgage either.”
As for the other facilities, I told him they were identical to the optional items listed in the contract and asked him to check once more that everything functioned properly after moving in.
However, the client only listened to me half-heartedly. Even if I wanted to explain in more detail, there was no point when the other party showed no interest, so I limited myself to only what had to be said. If he had questions later, he’d contact me anyway.
Once the brief explanation ended, the contract deposit was handed to Jun, and the brokerage commission was transferred as well, bringing everything to a close.
“Alright, that’s all set. I’ll see you on moving day.”
I gathered the contract, the deduction certificate, and other documents into an L-shaped holder file and handed it over. I’d originally wanted to prepare L-shaped holder files printed with the name of my real estate office, but due to a lack of initial capital, I was making do with files bought from a stationery store. My business card was awkwardly taped to the front of the holder.
In real estate, it had become customary to visit clients on moving day with a pack of toilet paper in hand. In this field, business is life, and the goal is to secure future customers, so it also served as an opportunity to check on the house.
“Take care.”
The client stood up, and I did as well, but Jun showed no sign of getting up. I opened the door to see the client out and offered an even more polite farewell.
And since I had opened the door anyway, I swung the office door wide open. It had only been a day or two since I last swept the front of the shop, yet cigarette butts had already piled up like that. But what frustrated me more was Jun’s car. Because of that car, sweeping properly was difficult.
“Can’t you park your car in your building’s parking lot?”
“You’ll regret it.”
“I’ll regret it?”
“That.”
Jun pointed at a refrigerated truck parked in front of the building diagonally across from us.
“That truck parks here often. That’s why this spot had such a cheap lease premium.”
“Uh… how did you know? That the lease premium was practically nothing?”
“They were shouting so loud while arguing, how could I not hear? That’s why I’m parking here for you.”
Sure enough, if a refrigerated truck like that parked in front of the office, it might even block the signboard.
This alley didn’t have a yellow line, so it couldn’t be forcibly towed. Each shop had placed flowerpots, tires, motorcycles, and other objects to prevent parking in front of their stores, but in reality, those things were no help at all.
Anything I could move with my own hands could just as easily be moved by someone else. In the past, if you asked the local police substation, they’d at least contact the driver for you, but these days, citing the Personal Information Protection Act, even that wasn’t possible. So even if a large vehicle parked in front of my office, there was nowhere to complain.
“Then why don’t they park in front of your building?”
“Ah, they hit my car once before. It’s near the parking lot entrance. Maybe the insurance premium went up after they had to repair my car, so they don’t park near our building anymore.”
“Is that driver’s personality as rotten as yours?”
“Hyung, I’ve got a good personality.”
Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.
For now, I decided to trust Jun’s advice. It had indeed seemed odd that when I got this first-floor space, the lease premium was practically nonexistent. And since other real estate owners had previously operated in that spot, they’d all held their tongues about it. Plus, whenever they passed by, they’d always glance carefully at Jun’s parked car.
One advantage of a sports car was its low body—it didn’t block the real estate office. And it drew attention, making people look at our office one more time. In game terms, it was close to aggro.
Belatedly wondering if Jun had done this out of consideration for me, I didn’t say anything more and went to sit at the PC desk. While checking the details of the contract, I realized the mouse that should’ve been under my right hand was missing. It was a Bluetooth mouse, so I sometimes absentmindedly carried it around and often misplaced it. Thinking I might’ve dropped it under the desk again, I lowered my head—only for something to be caught in my left hand.
It was the Bluetooth mouse.
“Huh? Why is this over here?”
When had I put it on the left? As I muttered to myself, Jun said he’d used the internet for a bit. Since there was nothing open on the screen, I just replied, “Oh, yeah?” and left it at that.
Then, as I clicked the mouse and continued checking things, Jun suddenly spoke.
“Don’t let any weird guys into your house.”
“Weird guys?”
“That blue tracksuit. I don’t like him.”
It was truly fascinating how Jun didn’t like Roban even at first meeting. They hadn’t gotten along in the game either, and now reality was the same.
But I couldn’t heed that warning. Whether Roban found Kang Chung-man and got his money back, or took care of him in-game, something had to be done.
Come to think of it, Jun hadn’t been playing the game much lately. The messages telling me to log in almost every day had grown sparse. I’d logged in briefly yesterday too, but my body didn’t exactly feel energized.
Taking advantage of a quiet moment, I wanted to go into the Blood Planet site. I peeked my head around the side of the monitor to glance at Jun. Since we were seated facing each other, I could clearly see what he was doing and where his gaze was directed.
I’ll just go in for a second and come right back out.
These days, just browsing the forums was fun. Most of the hot-topic posts were written by beginners. They were venting complaints that high-level players were storming beginner hunting grounds and massacring them. In response, they were taking turns demanding that certain hunting grounds be turned into Safety Zones.
[New] ●▅▇█▇▆▅▄▇ Please create a beginner zone
[New] I’ll lie down until you make one ●▅▇█▇▆▅▇
[New] ● <―< I’ll lie down too for now. I’m sleepy anyway
Beginners were really easy targets.
As I thought about the sorrow of being a beginner, the memory of being scammed out of Relax suddenly surfaced again.
Sad memories arrive without warning—whatever I did, it somehow connected back to that. It might’ve been easier to think it was never mine to begin with, but I felt deeply sorry toward Jun.
I searched “scam” on the server’s free bulletin board, wondering if something about Kang Chung-man might come up.
But perhaps no one else had been scammed—there were no stories like mine. Most of the titles read: [GM this is a scam], [Paid items are a scam], [Lower the boss level, scam], [Dungeon is a scam], [Starting today I’m dating a Guide, scam], [Goddess beauty is a scam], and so on.
“It’s not ‘scam,’ it’s ‘dating.’”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Jun had stood up to stretch and thought I’d been talking to him, so he responded. Then I clicked on a post titled [Goddess beauty is a scam]. It had been written a month ago.
As expected, it was a praise post about the Goddess character I’d run into that day. I skimmed through it and was about to hit the back button when one of the comments caught my eye. Among the comments asking for her Stargram, I carefully looked at the character name of someone who said they’d definitely get the Relax skill for her.
Yot Seller.
Wait, what?
Yot Seller was that licensed real estate agent from Golden Real Estate. He was also presumed to be one of the guys offering tributes to the Goddess. I’d just thought, “Oh, looks like another guy like CandyBoy’s been added,” but suddenly, a strong intuition sliced through my mind.
The name ‘CandyBoy’ I’d seen on the Goddess’s Stargram somehow seemed closely related to ‘Yot Seller.’ If you reinterpret CandyBoy in our cultural context, would that make him Yot Seller? That’s a bit of a stretch, though…
No way… is that bastard this bastard?
“Fuck!”
“Why?”
“N-Nothing!”
I saw Jun walking over at my shout. I frantically waved my hands and hurriedly closed the window. It would’ve been bad if he saw. Just earlier I’d said I didn’t have time to play the game, and now I was browsing the game site—I couldn’t let him catch that.
But now that the contract was done and there was nothing more to take care of, Jun should’ve had no reason to stay, yet he remained seated on the sofa. When there were no clients, being alone felt lonely, but having Jun in the same space for this long was uncomfortable in its own way.
“Hyung, are you usually this free?”
“Well… yeah.”
Aside from the contract I’d handled in the morning, not a single client had come in as lunchtime approached. Still, when it was busy, there were times when a client who came to the office while I was out showing a house would call asking when I’d be back.
“Du-seon.”
The office door opened, and someone called my name.
“Huh? Hyesun. What brings you here?”
Hyesun entered the office carrying sandwiches and drinks she’d bought somewhere. She said she was returning the favor for the lunch I’d treated her to before and came straight to the desk where I was working.
She ran a clothing shop and always wore flashy, new outfits. Whenever I passed by her shop, I often saw her inside helping customers. It was fascinating how she wore different clothes every day. Today, too, she was wearing something I hadn’t seen before. I’d been too busy to chat lately, so it was nice to see her.
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“A place just opened up nearby, so I thought I’d try it. Oh, right—you didn’t forget about Saturday, did you?”
To be honest, with everything going on lately, I’d forgotten. A three-million-won item had flashed before my eyes and vanished—there was no way anything else could hold my attention.
“Oh, right. We did make plans. Haha.”
“Yes. This Saturday at 10 a.m., Samseong Station. Just come on time.”
“But what are we doing there?”
“There’s something I want to show you. Let’s definitely meet.”
I awkwardly stood up, took the sandwich she handed me, and replied like an idiot with a clumsy, “Haha.” Jun was watching the whole scene comfortably from the sofa, his head leaning back. He silently shifted his gaze—looking at me, then at Hyesun when she spoke, then back at me.
Since we were seated facing each other, I couldn’t ignore the way his eyes moved between us. After giving a final greeting to me as I answered, “Yeah, yeah,” Hyesun turned to leave—only then noticing Jun sitting quietly there.
At her slight nod of greeting, Jun gave a light nod in return. They were acquainted, but not close enough to exchange words, so they shared only an awkward greeting.
Then, just before opening the door, Hyesun greeted me once more and left. Jun, who had been sitting there like a stone Buddha, finally began to question me.
