Goo Young-jin continued his speech, undeterred by Cha Jaerim’s cynical expression.
“Young people these days lack ambition. They think getting 1.5 million won a month and not getting fired is enough. Isn’t that a miserable outlook?”
“……”
“A man should have ambition. If you’ve entered the world, you should draw a big sword and climb the emperor’s staircase. Life is to be lived grandly, isn’t it?”
As the subway reached Yaksu Station, Cha Jaerim stood up, ignoring Goo Young-jin’s lengthy speech. He walked ahead without reacting, exiting the subway and heading towards the bus stop. Goo Young-jin kept talking.
“People don’t fail because they lack ability. They fail because they think the tree is too high to climb, so they don’t even try.”
“Can’t you be quiet for a bit?” Jae-rim responded quietly, now free from the confines of the subway.
But silencing Goo Young-jin proved impossible.
“You need to go into politics. With my help, there’s nothing you can’t do. I will make you a great politician who leads South Korea into the 21st century.”
“Ha…” Cha Jaerim sighed and shook his head.
“Right now, you think politics is for old men, but it’s changing. Young people like you, with bright eyes, can certainly wear a badge and become lawmakers.”
Goo Young-jin talked non-stop until the bus arrived. Once on the bus, Cha Jaerim took out a Walkman, blocking his ears. Goo Young-jin, unable to remove the earphones, waved his arms and shouted, but to no avail. Jaerim finally smiled peacefully as he returned home, his ears filled with the uplifting songs of Kang San-ae.
Cha Jaerim’s house was among a cluster of red-brick houses. His home was the rooftop room, not the whole building. Once he reached the rooftop, he removed his earphones, and Goo Young-jin’s agitated voice immediately filled the air.
“Is this a house?”
“Why, would that be an insult?”
“Are you joking? Did you put this much effort into playing a prank on me?”
Annoyance crept into Cha Jaerim’s voice. “You’re quite loud.”
“Tell me this is a joke!”
“Sorry if my house looks like a joke.”
Jaerim answered calmly, entering the rooftop room. The old fluorescent light flickered a few times before fully turning on. He removed his coat and sat in a chair with a sigh. Goo Young-jin still seemed disoriented by the shabby surroundings.
Every item he saw was depressing. Jaerim, noticing Goo Young-jin’s visible discomfort, chuckled.
“Do you still think politics is a good idea? Does any of this make you think about politics?”
“…What about your family?”
“I’ll tell you later. It’s not urgent.”
“I see.” Goo Young-jin suspected Jae-rim might be an orphan.
“Ghosts don’t care whether it’s a rooftop room or a hotel suite. Anyway, make yourself at home.”
“How long do I have to live like this?”
“You’re already dead.”
“That’s not what I mean…!”
“I don’t know much. But from what I’ve seen of other ghosts, one day, they just disappear, like smoke. Don’t worry about the gates of hell or anything. I was just saying stuff.”
“Where do they go?”
Jae-rim shrugged with a smile. “How would I know? I’m just a regular guy who occasionally sees ghosts.”
“I see. One more thing…”
Jaerim interrupted him. “Let’s continue tomorrow. I’m tired. I went out to meet a woman but came back with a ghost, so I’m extra tired.”
“Alright. So, while you sleep, I just sit here?”
Being unable to sleep as a ghost was a torment Goo Young-jin hadn’t anticipated. The solitude until dawn was unbearable.
“Don’t worry. I can offer some minor benefits. I can make you sleep.”
“Sleep? Really?”
“Yes. If I couldn’t, I wouldn’t have brought you here. I have a personal life too.”
“Right…”
“Good night.”
With a snap of his fingers, Goo Young-jin’s consciousness faded into darkness.
He woke up the next morning to find Cha Jae-rim already dressed in a neat suit. His wardrobe was meager, with only one decent outfit. Jaerim smiled at Goo Young-jin.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, good morning.”
Sharing a morning with a stranger felt awkward to Goo Young-jin. Still, he was relieved that Jaerim had some basic manners. It would have been miserable if he hadn’t.
“Why did you wear such shabby clothes yesterday if you have a decent suit?”
“Wouldn’t it be strange to wear a suit for no reason? Did my clothes look that shabby?”
As Jae-rim put on his shoes, he asked with a hint of hurt.
“Given your height, it was passable. Otherwise, it would have been quite shabby.”
“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or an insult.”
“Why are you dressed like that this morning?”
“I’m going to work. I have to make a living.”
“Of course.”
Even if this guy is poor and lacks educational background, he might have a decent job. Seeing him dressed in a suit for work suggests he’s a white-collar worker. He might be doing better than expected.
Goo Young-jin asked with a hint of expectation, “What’s your job?”
“I’m a civil servant.”
“Oh, a civil servant.”
A rather uneventful profession. Being a civil servant isn’t a job to look down on, but Gu Young-jin wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to drag Cha Jae-rim into politics, using him to fulfill his unfinished business. However, being a civil servant could be a problem. The greatest advantage of a civil service job is its stability. Even though the salary is modest, the risk of losing the job is low if one doesn’t make major mistakes. For someone like Cha Jae-rim, who doesn’t have financial leeway, he would likely aim to hold out until retirement.
While it was possible to enter the political arena through the administrative elite course by passing the civil service exam, if that were the case, he would likely be stationed in cities like Gwacheon or Daejeon where government offices are located. Still, there was a slim chance.
“What grade are you, by any chance?”
“I’m a level 9.”
As expected.
Goo Young-jin wasn’t particularly disappointed. Whether he was or not, Cha Jaerim paid no mind and hurried to work. Gu Young-jin managed to gather more details about Cha Jae-rim, thanks to his incessant questioning during their walk. Cha Jae-rim worked in the contract department of the Finance Bureau at Seongbuk District Office. He was born in 1974, making him 25 years old in 1998.
“Young age is great. At 25, you can chew steel and wrestle tigers barehanded. At that age, politics should be a piece of cake.”
“Oh, please.”
Within a day of knowing Goo Young-jin, Cha Jae-rim had grown tired of his political ramblings.
“You don’t understand because you don’t know who I was in life. If you did, you wouldn’t find my words boring. Let me tell you, I was…”
“I’m here. Please don’t disturb me during work.”
With a snap of his fingers, Cha Jaerim plunged Goo Young-jin into deep unconsciousness.
Night fell quickly, and Goo Young-jin opened his eyes again, feeling dejected. The idea of being under the control of a young, inexperienced man was hard to shake off. Cha Jaerim had already returned home, now in casual clothes. He showed no sympathy for Goo Young-jin, who lay slumped. He was eating two rolls of gimbap he had bought on his way home, his gaze fixed on the old, fat tube TV in the corner of the room.
It was already 9 PM, and the news was on.
“Good evening, this is the 9 o’clock news for September 15th. Today, President Kim Dae-jin held a summit with German President Roman Herzog to discuss deepening economic cooperation between the two countries.”
Goo Young-jin expressed his dissatisfaction toward Cha Jaerim, who wasn’t paying him any attention.
“You’re really too much.”
“You’re the one who’s too much.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Why do you keep telling a second-year civil servant to get into politics? It’s unnecessary.”
“It’s not unnecessary!”
“I’m not interested, so please stop.”
“Come on, let’s continue our morning conversation.”
As they argued, the TV news continued.
“The prolonged deadlock in the National Assembly due to the extreme standoff between the ruling and opposition parties shows no sign of abating. Both sides remain steadfast, unable to hide their complex internal calculations.”
“You’re quite persistent.”
“If you knew who I was, your attitude would change. I was…”
Cha Jaerim’s eyes wavered briefly as he glanced between the TV and Goo Young-jin. He spoke up.
“I think I know who you are.”
“What?”
“You’re Assemblyman Goo Young-jin, right?”
“How did you know…?”
Cha Jae-rim pointed his chopsticks at the TV screen. Following the direction, Goo Young-jin’s eyes landed on the screen.
“The Secretary-General of the ruling party, Goo Young-jin, emphasized the importance of maintaining dialogue and compromise while criticizing the opposition during the internal party discussions on normalizing the National Assembly.”
The screen showed Goo Young-jin smiling confidently at fellow party members.
Cha Jaerim alternated between looking at the 1998 version of Goo Young-jin on the TV and the Goo Young-jin who had taken his own life in 2008. Besides a few wrinkles and strands of gray hair, there wasn’t much difference.
Cha Jaerim, licking his chopsticks, addressed Goo Young-jin.
“It makes sense now why you kept talking about politics.”
While knowing Goo Young-jin’s identity was somewhat surprising for Cha Jaerim, to Goo Young-jin, it was a profound shock.
“This… can’t be…”
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