The Beginning of Misfortune
After a long and winding road, Seong Jiwon barely managed to graduate from university. Then, his parents dropped a bombshell on him.
“Now that you’re all grown up, you should be able to live on your own, right?”
What they showed him was a one-way ticket to the Philippines. At least a month, maybe even over a year. The plan, they said, was for him to stay there and eventually settle down. The announcement was so shocking it made his head spin. But the misfortunes didn’t end there. One after another, disasters exploded like fireworks.
First, Jiwon’s parents went missing. After the day they arrived, there was no word from them. He emptied his savings and flew to the Philippines, but there was no trace of them. He tried asking around in the broken English he’d learned in university, but the local police showed no interest in investigating. It was a missing persons case in a foreign country—not Korea—and he had no idea who to turn to for help. The days dragged on, meaningless and empty, until Jiwon finally returned to Korea.
He was twenty-seven, fresh out of university. His parents had vanished without a trace. The thought of facing the world alone was overwhelming. Before he could even process the despair, another misfortune struck.
“Seong Jiwon. If you borrowed money, you have to pay it back.”
“M-money?”
A group of rough-looking men in suits stormed into his home, their polished shoes clicking against the clean floor of his living room. But that hardly mattered compared to the disaster unfolding before him.
His parents, it turned out, had taken out loans from every source imaginable—from legitimate banks to underground lenders—before fleeing to the Philippines. The man who seemed to be in charge stood with a briefcase tucked under his arm. At his signal, one of his lackeys pulled out a stack of documents.
“Let’s see here. The principal alone is 370 million won. Add the interest… Hey! How much is it? Calculate it!”
“Yes, sir!”
The lackey pulled out his phone, presumably to use a calculator app. The boss smacked the back of his head.
“Hey! Don’t make it obvious! No apps! Use a real calculator!”
The lackey finally pulled out a calculator from his suit pocket and punched in the numbers. After a moment of frowning at the screen, he showed it to Jiwon. The calculator displayed an error. He fiddled with it for a while before giving up and putting it away.
“Anyway, it’s roughly around 1.2 billion won. We’ve been lenient, letting you pay in small installments, but then you just disappear? Of course we’re pissed.”
“…”
Jiwon’s mouth went dry. The interest was absurd. But the fact that they’d lent the money illegally meant they had no qualms about collecting it through illegal means, too.
The thought of what those “illegal means” might entail sent a chill down his spine. The boss glanced around the room.
“So, where did your parents go?”
“They went to the Philippines… but they’re missing.”
“Missing?”
The boss scoffed, then burst into loud, mocking laughter.
“Missing! Hahaha! Kid, do you really believe that?”
“What?”
“That’s total bullshit. They ran because they didn’t want to pay. You think they’d get a visa to leave the country after borrowing that much money?”
Without asking, the boss lit a cigarette. The small room filled with smoke.
“So… everything was…?”
“Happens all the time.”
“But…”
“Want to see this?”
He handed Jiwon a stack of A4 papers. His finger pointed to a clause: “In the event of default, the debt shall be transferred to the debtor’s children.” Next to it was Jiwon’s seal. He collapsed onto the floor. His head pounded. What the hell was this? Why would his parents—
“Don’t even think about killing yourself. As long as you’re alive, the interest keeps growing. You’ll just end up owing more.”
The boss looked at him with something almost like pity. Jiwon couldn’t blame him. Suddenly being saddled with a debt of 1.2 billion won would shock anyone. Maybe this was a nightmare? He slapped his own cheek, but it only hurt.
Seong Jiwon, age 27. He was utterly, completely fucked.
He reached out to the only person he could think of—his “uncle,” a man his father had been close to, though not a blood relative. The uncle expressed deep sympathy over his parents’ disappearance and agreed to meet. But on the day of the meeting, he never showed up. Jiwon called, but the line was dead.
The last shred of hope he’d clung to shattered. The relentless misfortunes made him tremble with rage. With no choice, he wandered the streets for days, unable to face the red eviction notices plastered all over his home.
He considered telling the loan sharks that their methods were illegal, that they should follow the law—but he knew fists moved faster than legal proceedings. His pockets empty, he finally dragged himself home. A man in a black suit sat on his sofa, waiting.
Another creditor? He didn’t have the strength. That was why he hadn’t wanted to come home. Stumbling, he sat on the couch. The man spoke first.
“Aren’t you surprised? A stranger in your house, and you don’t even flinch?”
“I’ve had plenty of visitors like you…”
“Hmm?”
The man looked slightly taken aback, then chuckled. Jiwon straightened up. The man smirked.
“I’m not that kind of person.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not here to collect money.”
“How am I supposed to believe that?”
“This is who I am.”
The man pulled a business card holder from his suit pocket. Even at a glance, it was clearly high-quality leather—expensive. Jiwon had been drifting from one 30,000-won motel to another, too broke to afford even that. He instinctively sized the man up. The perfectly tailored suit, the sleek hairstyle—everything screamed wealth.
Jiwon took the card with trembling hands.
“<Land of Happiness>…?”
The card was made of subtly shimmering, high-quality paper, exuding an air of elegance. The words “Land of Happiness” felt oddly out of place. Below the smiley logo, a two-character name was printed.
“Lee Jak…?”
“I’ve lived abroad since I was young, so I prefer that name.”
The only unusual thing was the lack of a title. Jiwon stared at the card. Land of Happiness, Lee Jak. What was this? What did this mysterious card mean?
Lee Jak was smiling, but there was something cold about him. Jiwon, sensing the strangeness, hesitated before asking first.
“So… what brings you to me?”
“Do you know Gwon Seon-hyeong?”
Jiwon had no choice but to recognize the name—it belonged to the uncle who had stood him up. He nodded, and Lee Jak’s gentle smile vanished, replaced by a chilling expression. Jiwon tensed, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.
“I do… why?”
“Gwon Seon-hyeong has passed away.”
“What?”
“Since he had no children, we came to you, the closest relative.”
Every word Lee Jak spoke was hard to process. The news of his uncle’s death was shocking enough, but why were they here for him?
“You must succeed him.”
“What?”
“It’s understandable that you don’t understand. Let me explain.”
“…Okay.”
Lee Jak’s story went like this: The Land of Happiness, a new religion founded by his uncle, was based on the idea that life and death were connected, allowing passage between the two. Therefore, the dead could be revived—for a price. That price was “Happiness.”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
