Chapter 4…. A Beggar That’s Not Quite a Beggar
Thud.
The shaman uncle muttered a word and collapsed immediately.
Wait… did he just insult me? That was an insult, right?
“Damn it! More pathetic than a beggar… ugh!”
The groan at the end wasn’t from some perverse pleasure at being insulted.
Even though I’m technically a beggar, that’s not my type.
I only cursed back in the spirit of returning what I received. But the instant I did, I felt my spine stiffen sharply.
A chill ran through my entire body.
This… feels familiar.
It’s like back when I first started seeing ghosts, that disgusting feeling.
The chill began at the hand of the shaman uncle holding my ankle.
“L-Let go!”
Instinctively, I kicked his hand with my foot.
Oops! Mistake.
Whack!
“Ugh!”
“I-I’m sorry, sir.”
I kicked him in the head.
Yet this stubborn uncle was still holding onto my ankle.
Then, a voice echoed in my head:
[You shall have the blessing of the fool…]
Hallucination?
What kind of foolish nonsense is that?
“Huh? What the hell! Is this murder?”
What ridiculous nonsense is that?
A burly man charged toward me, swinging a fist.
And the fist was huge.
“You little—!”
Crunch!
What a terrible situation.
I was already battered, and his hammer-like fist slammed into my face.
At that moment, I saw it: my soul, briefly bouncing out of my body.
[…May you receive the blessing of the fool.]
Ah, that foolish voice again.
I saw the dropped cigarette butt.
“My… cigarette butt.”
I grabbed it tightly and prayed.
I wished desperately that this was just a dream.
A stupid, pathetic dream.
Quick hands, sharp eyes, a tongue like a snake.
Tap tap!
“Name.”
“…”
“Are you crying?”
Despite his rough appearance, the question carried a tiny trace of pity.
Somehow, without realizing it, tears came to my eyes.
How many people had ever asked my name in my life?
Thank you, sir.
“Woo Suhan.”
“Don’t joke. If you’re Woo Suhan, then I’m Falcon.”
“Anyone who knows that is old-fashioned.”
“Ah, damn it!”
“…”
Falcon, huh?
This uncle must be from the pirate edition City Hunter generation.
Such a lame joke—it’s not even in the league of dad jokes.
“It’s real. What City Hunter are you talking about? It’s One Punch Man era.”
“Oh… forget it.”
Ah, he knows it’s an outdated dad joke—his face is red.
My name is Woo Suhan.
Honestly, I rarely used it, so it didn’t come to mind immediately.
Usually, people called me Beggar, That Place, or Brother, sometimes Young Man.
But being asked for my name, having it called…
Tap tap!
The act of writing it down felt strangely fresh.
Though, I wished this wasn’t a police station.
“That uncle hit you, so you retaliated, right?”
“No. The one who got beaten to death was someone else. I just cursed at that uncle.”
“Excuse me?”
I came here on charges of assault.
Of course, I did kick him once—but it was self-defense.
Think about it: what person wouldn’t be scared if some man is holding your ankle, spitting blood from his mouth?
That’s scarier than a ghost.
Ghosts may look frightening, but they don’t grab your ankles.
Of course, movies exaggerate, but the ghosts I saw were just like neighbors—occasionally startling, but not malicious.
Anyway, the problem is that the officers saw it. They called it being caught in the act.
Turns out, he wasn’t a gangster but a detective.
If I had known, I wouldn’t have eaten before coming.
In movies, they usually feed you while taking a report.
“Won’t you at least give me some soup or something?”
“You watch too many movies.”
So no soup.
Also, this guy isn’t too sharp. How many beggars would watch movies, right?
“Resident registration number?”
“I don’t really… remember.”
“Are you joking? Your fingerprints are already on file…”
At that moment, the man beside me handed something over and spoke:
“Officer Park, it’s canceled.”
“What?”
“His registration is canceled.”
The man called Officer Park gave me a baffled look.
Right. Time to come clean.
“I’m a beggar.”
“Are you joking?”
He frowned and scrutinized me.
See? I don’t exactly look like a beggar. I had bathed, and I wore clean clothes.
“I got new clothes today and went to the bathhouse. Trying to live without looking like a beggar.”
“So you hit someone just to gather funds?”
“What kind of question always ends with violence!”
I’m innocent!
When I protested, he snorted and asked another question.
“Then why were you there? You weren’t scouting the place in advance, were you?”
“To contribute to the country.”
A laser beam shot from the eyes of the democratic police.
If I’m not careful, I might get hit here too.
“Don’t joke around.”
“…I was picking up cigarette butts.”
“This guy is serious…”
Sometimes the truth is ignored.
Officer Park’s face was red, ready to explode.
Then, a voice of salvation:
“I don’t think he’s joking. When we brought him here, he was crying with a cigarette butt in his side.”
“Cigarette butt? That’s not a butt!”
“Hmm! Hmm!”
The detective who punched me earlier and brought me here testified.
See, a witness is important.
He can’t ignore what he did to me, but he’s trying to understand, that’s something.
“What, not even a beggar…”
Time to explode my anger!
To end this era of distrust!
Bang!
“I said I’m a beggar! Why can’t you believe a beggar? Is it because I really don’t look like one?”
“Huh?”
I went too hard. My hand hurts. I shouldn’t have hit the desk.
“And there’s a CCTV on the alley pole inside. Check it and you’ll see why I ended up like this!”
This is why I got beaten!
Checking surroundings before collecting money is only natural.
You need evidence in front of cameras.
Then someone approached.
“Uh… the person who called here…”
A familiar voice came from behind.
I turned and saw the assistant director.
Hi, sir!
I waved cheerfully, but his face twisted.
“Oh, this guy had no phone, just a business card, so I contacted him. A perfectly normal person not cooperating, calling him a beggar.”
Officer Park, sensing relief, muttered and glared at me.
But I was confident!
“This person is a beggar.”
“Huh?”
“Huh!”
See?
The assistant director smiled awkwardly and explained to Officer Park.
The assistant director was losing his mind.
A call from the police station interrupted filming, and there seemed to be a problem.
Kwon Suhyun…
“Like a dog holding in poop.”
The assistant director sighed.
Some praised Kwon Suhyun as a human triumph, but here he’s just a mess.
A manageable mess.
Thanks to acting skills and agency cover-ups, his image was fine.
Polite to superiors, never a big issue.
But Kwon Suhyun apparently caused real trouble.
His car suddenly stopped, disappeared with his manager, and rushed back. A nearby staff witnessed it.
So the assistant director came to manage the situation.
“When filming, we cast real homeless people. He’s one of them.”
“What’s with this beggar…”
The assistant director sighed.
Even he was surprised. The staff had been talking about this person.
After bathing, he looked fine. He seemed young, so I gave my contact for small jobs, even extras.
“I’m sorry, there was a report.”
Luckily, the situation was calming down.
Except for the beggar uncle’s meaningful gaze—asking if acting earned more money.
“Knowing someone helps.”
The assistant director works hard.
Thanks to him, my false accusation was cleared shortly.
And there was CCTV footage outside.
I had kicked him once, but it could’ve looked like I was attacked.
Still, I couldn’t let this go.
Payment is due!
“Dummy?”
“Yes. Dummy camera.”
Dummy. Fake.
But unfortunately, no footage of me getting hit.
Damn. I got beaten despite seeing the camera.
Still, police station!
“Then who hit you?”
“Well…”
When I tried to speak, the assistant director grabbed my arm.
Eyes locked.
His large eyes shook frantically.
Of course, he defended me.
“Don’t know. Mugging? I was picking up cigarette butts, got beaten, and when I came to, that shaman uncle was holding me.”
Ad-lib came naturally. Actor instincts kicking in.
Officer Park nodded and asked:
“Mugging? Lost items?”
Bang!
I confidently put my foot on the desk.
I took out remaining money from my sock and delivered a killer line:
“The only loss is my health and the cleanliness of my new clothes.”
“Foot down.”
“Yes.”
After a brief investigation and saying I’d come back if I remembered anything, I left the station.
With the assistant director as a companion, of course.
Guarantee of identity or something.
“Good job.”
“Not sure I did.”
I looked at the assistant director like I knew everything.
I’m a beggar, not an idiot.
No reason to bring me to the police station just for a beggar I met today.
“That story about applying medicine on the watermelon?”
“Who leaked that secret?”
“After filming, someone told him, and Suhyun was embarrassed. I came just in case, and contacted the director.”
So they got caught.
Anger surged.
“Damn this sneaky brat!”
“Consider it done?”
They dare to bribe me with money?
“This angelic person!”
“Can’t we just receive it normally?”
“Hehe!”
This won’t fix easily. Occupational hazard.
I lowered my hands politely, embarrassed.
Inside the envelope, twenty 50,000-won bills.
“Whoa!”
“First, let’s go to the hospital. Check for broken bones.”
“Eh, a bit of medicine will heal it fast.”
“Still, let’s go!”
The assistant director pulled me along.
But I shouldn’t go. What if he wants me to spend this money on treatment?
Then I thought of a way out:
“They said he doesn’t have an ID either.”
“Huh?”
“Beggar… canceled.”
The assistant director frowned.
Sighing, he opened the car door and gestured.
“Get in.”
“Oh, I got hunted?”
“Shut up!”
“Just kidding. You’re not taking me somewhere to destroy evidence…”
“Not happening! Just keep me calm for a few days!”
Can’t believe me. What a beautiful world.
Finally, food and shelter for a few days!
No need to believe me.
Sometimes distrust brings a happy ending.
“Thank you.”
I hopped into the passenger seat before changing my mind.
Wow, the ride is amazing.
Way better than a police car.
But… something felt off.
I saw the assistant director in the driver’s seat glance back and say gruffly:
“Back seat is messy. Been busy.”
“That’s not it…”
Not that the beggar should complain about messiness.
The issue wasn’t the backseat—it was the elderly lady sitting properly.
She wasn’t looking at me, but at the assistant director.
