Chapter 131.
Even Ghosts Dream
“Did he really fall asleep?”
“Apparently, yes.”
“In that short a time?”
“Exactly.”
Even I was embarrassed.
I hadn’t expected him to drift off so quickly.
You could see it just by looking—
dark circles under his eyes,
a ghost who’d died from sheer exhaustion.
I could tell right away—
if he just got some sleep, he’d move on.
It wasn’t a real hotel, but it was a hotel set, technically.
So maybe he’d wandered in here instinctively,
unable to leave.
Since he looked like a clumsy newbie ghost,
I decided to help him rest and move on.
Honestly, I was curious too—
it was my first time doing something like this.
When I lay down after being possessed,
it was kind of like a third-person view.
It was my body, but not me controlling it.
Ah!
It’s kind of like watching a first-person movie in VR.
The only difference is that you can feel the emotions inside.
This time, though, I realized something—
the stronger the grudge and the longer it lingers,
the more vivid the emotions feel.
Even resentment ferments, apparently—
and maybe that’s why old ghosts
just keep repeating the same lines,
having lost everything but their grudges.
This one, though, had a twist.
Despite the cocky attitude,
it turned out his mother was sick.
He’d been working hard to pay for her hospital bills.
Of course, he was still young,
and like any young person,
he wanted to play sometimes.
So he took on extra jobs—
no rest, just work.
He should have taken a break,
but he went out to keep a promise with friends.
I’m sure he was excited.
He’d given up so much to support his mother;
a chance like that must have felt precious.
He went clubbing with his friends,
then on the way to a cheap hotel they’d found,
his heart suddenly stopped.
Maybe that’s why,
the moment I became him,
I felt overwhelming drowsiness.
I knew I was falling asleep—
and then,
I started dreaming.
But it wasn’t my dream.
It was the first time I’d ever seen
a ghost’s dream.
At first, I thought,
“Is this gonna be one of those weird club dreams?”
I even considered looking away—
you know, out of respect for privacy.
But it’s not like you can block out a shared dream.
So I watched.
Reluctantly.
Thankfully—it wasn’t that kind of dream.
Not a club dream either.
There was just a woman.
The way he called her “Mom, Mom…”
I knew right away it was her.
The sick mother.
But here, she looked healthy.
And the ghost who had seemed like a punk before
now had the gentle eyes of a loving son.
They were traveling together—
she wore a bright floral dress,
a bit old-fashioned,
but she was smiling.
A healthy mom and her devoted son—
that was his dream.
The dream flowed from traveling
into a quiet everyday life.
Nothing dramatic—
just an ordinary, happy routine.
But in every scene,
they were smiling.
That was the constant.
They looked so happy.
It might’ve looked mundane to anyone else,
but I understood that dream.
Because I’ve had dreams like that too.
When I cried myself to sleep,
I’d find myself traveling again
with my family—
the ones I’d lost.
No accidents, no sadness.
Just laughter,
good food,
and playful scolding.
That’s why I knew
how precious this dream was.
Then, suddenly, the ghost spoke to me.
“Uh… mind if I call you ‘hyung’?”
“Huh?”
Just like in that movie I did with Gamdong recently,
I was now inside his dream too.
“Sure.”
“Thanks, hyung.”
“Alright, go now.”
“Uh… one more thing.”
He hesitated awkwardly.
“I, uh… had some insurance saved up,
so Mom’s hospital bills should be covered for a while, but…”
“Yeah?”
“Could you… maybe check in on her sometimes?”
It was a simple, yet heavy request.
For some people, that might be too much.
But I figured—
this much, I could do.
After seeing his mother,
I felt drawn to help.
“Alright. Don’t worry.
By the way—what’s your name?”
“Lee Seong-ho.”
“Got it, Seong-ho.”
“Thank you.”
Then his form began to glow.
He must’ve finally rested.
His longing for his mother
had eased just a bit.
“Take care.”
He smiled faintly
and disappeared into light.
Strange thing—
it always leaves me feeling proud,
helping someone move on.
And each time,
I feel like some hollow part of me
fills up a little.
That’s when I woke up—
to a slap across the face.
Apparently,
I’d called Yuna-sunbae “Mom” in my sleep.
Residual effects from his dream.
Still, the cameo shoot went perfectly.
They even said my “just woke up” look
was super realistic.
So yeah—
came to do a cameo,
ended up performing a spiritual send-off.
“Man, this world…”
“You know how high the population density is in Korea?
You’d have a harder time avoiding ghosts.”
“Yeah, sure…”
Park Yoo-cheon sighed,
hands on the steering wheel.
It wasn’t a major incident,
but hearing I’d met and sent off another ghost
was sigh-worthy enough.
And there was another reason for his sigh.
“Is this the place?”
“Yeah. Hansan University Hospital.”
“Put on sunglasses and a— never mind.”
He was about to tell me to cover up a bit,
but stopped.
I ruffled my hair,
put on some clear-frame glasses,
practiced a few expressions in the mirror—
and just like that,
a completely different guy stared back.
“Seriously… that’s a talent.”
One of the key parts of a person’s face is their vibe,
and I’ve always been good at changing mine.
With a cap pulled low,
actor Woo Su-han vanished,
replaced by an ordinary young man.
“Let’s go.”
We entered the hospital
and asked about the patient’s room.
“Ah!”
The nurse blinked in surprise.
Yoo-cheon froze—
had she seen through my disguise?!
“Aren’t you that manager
from Manager’s Point of View,
the one with actor Woo Su-han?”
“Uh… y-yes. That’s me.”
He tried to hide his shock.
Right next to me,
yet she recognized him, not me.
“Wow, you’re famous now, huh, hyung?”
“Did you come with your brother?”
“Yeah…”
Yoo-cheon sighed
as the nurse searched the records.
But then, her face darkened.
“This patient… passed away a month ago.”
“…Oh.”
We’d come lightly,
but suddenly everything felt heavy.
Su-han asked quietly,
“Do you know which room she was in?”
“I knew it.”
I’d come just in case—
and of course,
I was right.
It reminded me of the ghosts
I used to see as a kid
when I was long-term hospitalized.
They were always sitting silently
in corners of the ward—
waiting for family who never came.
Bad omens always prove true.
Unlike the smiling, healthy woman
from the dream,
the real Seong-ho’s mother
looked pale and frail,
sitting blankly in front of the ward,
staring down the corridor.
“She’s here?”
“…Yeah.”
“Hmm…”
Manager Park looked uneasy,
unsure what to do.
“Help me out, yeah?”
“Huh?”
“Would look weird if I talked to thin air alone.”
He nodded,
and reluctantly stepped forward with me.
We stood before the ghost,
who sat staring down the hallway.
“Just stay there.”
“Got it.”
“Um… ma’am?”
Even at my voice,
she didn’t turn—
just kept looking toward the hallway,
probably where her son used to appear
during visits.
“Seong-ho sent me.”
At his name,
she stirred.
“My… my Seong-ho?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She slowly stood,
tears welling.
“My poor boy… my poor Seong-ho…”
Tears streamed down her face.
I remembered what the nurse said—
that after hearing her son had died,
her condition worsened
and she passed soon after.
“My poor boy… what am I to do?”
She already knew.
“He worried about you,” I said.
“He was sorry to leave you alone.”
“If only I hadn’t lived… I shouldn’t have survived him…”
There are people like that—
who think living itself is a sin.
Usually out of guilt.
She was one of them.
“I saw his final dream, you know?”
“Is that even possible?”
“Well, we’re talking right now, aren’t we?
You tell me.”
“Ah…”
“He dreamed of you.
You looked healthy.
You two were traveling together.”
“He… he said we’d go on a trip once I got better.”
So that’s what it was.
A wish fulfilled only in dreams.
“He left peacefully,
after that dream.
He even asked me to look after you sometimes.”
“I’m sorry…”
Sorry for what, I wondered.
For dying? For surviving?
There’s never a real answer.
“You shouldn’t wait anymore,” I said gently.
“You’ll meet again—just not if you stay here.”
“Huh…?”
“He’s already moved on.
You won’t meet if you stay behind.”
A faint glow returned to her pale face—
life, in a sense.
“It’d be nice if you went with a smile.
Healthy, too.”
“You’re right.”
The illness faded from her cheeks,
her face filling out again.
“Wow… no wonder Seong-ho was handsome.
You’re beautiful, ma’am.”
“Thank you.”
If she’d been in her fifties,
she now looked mid-forties—
radiant and full of warmth.
“Let’s change your clothes too.
How about that floral dress?”
“Oh? This is…”
Her hospital gown shimmered away,
replaced by that same floral dress from the dream.
I hadn’t done it—
she had, subconsciously.
Ghosts can do that sometimes,
if you give them the cue.
“Time to go see your son.”
“I will.”
“Take a trip together.”
“Can we?”
“Of course.
You were both good people. You’ll meet again.”
Honestly? I don’t know what comes after death.
But it feels like something’s there.
There are guardian spirits, ghosts,
even enlightenment.
Still, no one ever tells us for sure.
Probably for the best.
If we knew, people would go chasing it—
and chaos would follow.
Maybe that’s why hell gets all the marketing—
to warn us not to end things ourselves.
Then, the light came.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“I’ll be cheering for you, Woo Su-han.”
“Tha—wait, what?”
I blinked.
She smiled.
“When you’re stuck in a hospital,
all you do is watch TV.”
“Ah…”
Even disguised,
she’d recognized me.
A ghost recognizing me—
that was new.
“Be happy,” I said.
She smiled, radiant,
and vanished in light—
off to travel again
with her son.
