Exactly one week after the MT, a health examination notification text arrived. That was the final gateway.
The day after receiving the notification text, Jiwon underwent a health examination at a comprehensive medical examination center designated by the agency.
It wasn’t an ordinary health examination. Setting aside the fact that a 1:1 dedicated coordinator followed him around, he didn’t encounter anyone other than medical staff during the entire examination.
First, they measured his body dimensions. In addition to height and weight, they properly re-measured everything just like during the first interview—penis and testicle size, and even perineum length. As if worried about switching people, they thoroughly re-inspected all the scars.
Then they proceeded with the actual tests, and it was safe to say they conducted virtually every health examination category imaginable, not just STD and infectious disease screenings. They particularly focused on his heart with electrocardiograms, cardiac ultrasounds, CT angiography, and more. For allergy tests, they simultaneously conducted two or three different tests, talking about delayed and acute reactions.
Thanks to the dedicated coordinator, Jiwon received all those complicated tests very comfortably. At the words “this is the last one,” he climbed onto the bed without knowing what test it was and fell asleep just like that.
When he opened his eyes, three hours had passed.
The coordinator asked with a smiling face if he was okay.
Did they do a sedated endoscopy or something? he wondered.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
The coordinator guided Jiwon, still dazed from the sedative, to the changing room.
After changing clothes and coming out, the coordinator handed him a coupon for buying porridge and a paper bag containing simple snacks. Then she personally escorted him to the hospital’s main entrance.
Conveniently, a taxi provided by the agency was waiting.
He took the taxi back to the goshiwon like that.
Nothing had happened, but he belatedly scolded himself for being too complacent during the last test.
They could have done anything, yet blinded by the beautiful dedicated coordinator’s kindness, he’d climbed onto the bed. Honestly, that could have been the last time.
As soon as he arrived at the goshiwon, he locked the door, stripped naked, and examined every corner of his body. Except for the needle marks from the blood test, there was nothing that felt particularly foreign.
As the tension released, he collapsed helplessly onto the bed.
She really was pretty. If he hadn’t gone there for that kind of business, she was the type of woman he might have asked out on a date. She even resembled his ex-girlfriend.
“Crazy bastard.”
To fall for a woman I’m seeing for the first time in the midst of getting the opportunity of a lifetime—I really can’t help myself, he thought. He let out a deflated laugh.
He didn’t worry about the test results. He’d never had any STDs they’d asked about, and as for infectious diseases, COVID and colds were all he’d had. Those had already been cured too.
Jiwon kept the health examination a secret. There was no other intention. He felt burdened by the possibility of having false hope. He wouldn’t let go of the thread of hope until the very last moment, but he also had to prepare for the opposite outcome.
That way, there wouldn’t be a situation like Han’s where he’d want to disappear.
Instead, he made the excuse that his arm hurt so he’d rested for a day. Since his arm was actually in pretty bad condition, even “Fucking Bastard” couldn’t do anything about it.
He only rested that one day; from the next day on, he went to work at the cold storage warehouse as usual. He didn’t refuse overtime work either, and from midnight to 5 AM on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, he faithfully performed his role as the room salon’s dedicated driver. Of course, he also worked as a designated driver.
His designated driver performance wasn’t good. It was a natural result since he deliberately didn’t accept calls.
Now that he had some easy money, he wanted to rest a bit.
Honestly, he was tired.
After the health examination, Jiwon had more nights staying up late from anxiety.
[Has President Choi not contacted you?]
He was resting at the goshiwon when a text arrived.
That’s what I want to ask.
He almost wrote that, but stopped and just replied shortly with “Yeah.”
If he knew, he would have told me, he thought simply.
His trust ran deep.
[Can’t you lend me 2 million?]
[Don’t have it]
[I’ll use it for a week and give it back]
He didn’t even have the energy to text, but the messages kept coming.
[I said I don’t have it]
[Then 1 million]
When he didn’t reply,
[You want to see me die?]
A threatening text came.
It meant he wanted to meet in person. He was a bit concerned about setting up an appointment like this during such a sensitive time, but he also had something he wanted to confirm, so he wrote “Gangnam Station” and sent it.
[Tomorrow evening 9 PM, Gangnam Station]
An appointment was set again like that.
Jiwon sat camped out at the convenience store near the room salon as usual. Whenever the bell rang, his gaze unconsciously went toward the entrance.
Hyung, it felt like Han would call out. It felt like he’d hold out a drink saying, Cone-cone.
Have I gotten attached already?
He chewed on a triangle kimbap with a bitter smile.
*
July was long.
The whole world burned with heat.
He was deep asleep at the goshiwon when someone knocked hard on his door.
“Room 304! A quick delivery came. Come out quickly.”
It was Room 305. He’d personally brought the documents that the goshiwon manager had received.
Jiwon barely managed to get up and open the door.
“Here. If it goes into the manager’s hands, you won’t even know something like this came. It’s lucky I happened to see it. Right?”
Swish—he handed over a yellow document envelope.
Room 305 was right. The manager received everything but never paid attention. Because of that, they often failed to receive important documents—things like utility bills, dunning notices, or payment notices—and unintentionally fell into arrears. Once, it even led to a loan shark visiting.
“Thank you, ahjussi.”
“Thank you nothing. Let’s just eat.”
Room 305 made a drinking motion.
“Yes. I’ll come right after checking the documents.”
Jiwon said this and closed the door.
The acceptance text he was waiting for never came, and he kept receiving only dunning notices and payment notices. The life of a young man who was only twenty-eight was truly wretched.
Which bank sent a dunning notice today? He sighed and opened the document envelope, then widened his eyes.
It was a final acceptance letter consisting of five pages. They’d sent it directly through a person, not by text. Along with a simple congratulatory message, various precautions and things to prepare were printed out.
His excitement was brief before tears stupidly welled up.
He’d finally grabbed the straw. Perhaps what he’d grasped with these two hands wasn’t a straw but a massive root.
His heart swelled.
[We invite you to Paradise]
The number 700 million written beneath the cheesy welcome phrase felt unfamiliar.
Right. It was a 700-million-won job.
It felt strange to receive a 700-million-won acceptance letter in a cheap goshiwon.
Jiwon headed to the kitchen, partly to calm his excited heart.
Room 305 was waiting for Jiwon with a soju bottle in front of him.
“Ahjussi, would you like beer?”
Jiwon asked.
“I’d love that.”
“Wait just a moment.”
When Jiwon said he’d buy beer, Room 305 rattled off what he needed.
“Since you’re buying anyway, get imported ones. It’s even better if you get different varieties. For snacks, get butter-grilled squid and wasabi peanuts. Should we eat cup noodles too? Nah, never mind. We’ve got plenty of ramen.”
He emphasized imported beer several times, as if he’d been craving it terribly.
Jiwon chuckled and left the goshiwon. He went to the convenience store and bought eighteen cans of imported beer along with one bottle each of Jack Daniel’s and vodka. He also purchased plenty of the snacks Room 305 had mentioned.
“Oh my, why so much? Was it an important document?”
Room 305 smiled broadly and took the bags from Jiwon’s hands.
“Yes. A dunning notice. If I don’t pay, I’m screwed.”
When Jiwon answered with a smiling face, Room 305 cheerfully replied, “A dunning notice? Of course it’s important. What else would be the most important thing in the world?” He acted as if there was no other important document that could come to people living at the bottom.
He must know it’s not a dunning notice but good news if I’m buying beer, yet he didn’t ask at all.
“But is your arm a bit better? You really seemed unable to use your right arm.”
He’d already opened a can and was gulping down beer as he asked.
“It’s not that bad. And I can just use my left hand.”
“Don’t be like that, young man. Go to the hospital with the money you’d spend buying me stuff like this. You have to fix it when you’re young so you don’t suffer when you’re old.”
Room 305, who’d quickly emptied a beer can like water, advised.
“Yes. I’ll do that.”
Jiwon opened the liquor first.
Then Room 305 picked up his second beer can and held out a glass with his other hand. After pouring liquor into Room 305’s glass first, he filled his own as well.
Room 305 raised his eyebrows.
You’re drinking too? his eyes asked.
“Just one glass.”
“Right. Let’s drink! Here, cheers.”
Room 305 shouted.
“Cheers.”
He downed it in one go.
The liquor was sweet.
*
Exactly one week was given to settle things.
During that time, he had to get full-body hair removal at a waxing shop and also transform his hairstyle to match exactly the photo in the document envelope.
Hair could just be cut, but full-body hair removal was really unexpected. It was virtually an unfamiliar territory in the world of ordinary people like Jiwon—Brazilian waxing at that. Just thinking about it was awkward and embarrassing. But since it was the job he’d longed for so much, embarrassment wasn’t any kind of constraint.
That very afternoon when he received the acceptance letter, Jiwon personally visited a men’s waxing shop. Luckily, there was an opening that day, so he got full-body hair removal right away.
Except for that, he spent an ordinary week no different from usual. He tried hard not to look like someone who would quit his job. He completed everything without fail—the logistics center, designated driving, and even the room salon’s dedicated driver.
Maintain your daily routine no matter what
He kept his promise.
On the deadline day, he quit all his jobs.
And that afternoon, he visited a hair salon that didn’t require reservations and got a haircut exactly like the photo, and also got a perm since they said it was necessary. Perm in name only—it was practically no curls. It was a style popular among young men these days, but the hair length was somewhat short and neat.
After finishing his hair, Jiwon also stopped by a nearby blood donation center. There, he donated blood that might become his last trace.
He finished all preparations like that.
[Got a job in the provinces, so I’m leaving. Won’t be able to contact you for a while]
It was the last text.
[I’m sorry. Because of this good-for-nothing hyung]
[Stay healthy and take care. Make sure to contact me when you come back]
It would probably be the last reply.
On Sunday morning, July 11th, Jiwon followed the instructions and factory-reset his phone at the Gangnam Station bathroom, which was the meeting place, then turned it off. He pulled out the SIM card and flushed it down the toilet, then threw the device onto the sidewalk blocks. He trampled it as if to show off the shattered pieces.
Exactly five minutes later, he got into the van provided by the agency.
That was the last time Kim Jiwon was spotted on CCTV.
