Chapter 24
Lunchtime.
“Hey, Seo-hyuk.”
Tak Yeon-ho called cautiously.
Ever since that morning’s awkward encounter with Ma Cho-yeon, Dan Seo-hyuk had been wearing the same sullen expression.
To most people it looked like his usual blank face, but Yeon-ho could tell he was in a bad mood.
“You okay?”
He’d followed along willingly enough when Yeon-ho suggested lunch together, so Yeon-ho asked carefully.
Only then did that handsome face tilt down to look at him. Seo-hyuk’s tall frame—taller than most teachers or adults—made Yeon-ho instinctively hunch his shoulders.
They say faces look worse when seen from below…
Why, then, did this guy still look good even from that angle?
And why had someone like him, who always refused other people’s invitations, agreed to eat lunch with him of all people?
Other students stole curious glances their way, clearly wondering what was going on. It wasn’t pride Yeon-ho felt—it was awkwardness.
He was the one who had asked first, but being the center of attention like this was… uncomfortable.
“What.”
That was Seo-hyuk’s curt reply to his question. He wasn’t the type to answer kindly—he hadn’t even been with Ma Cho-yeon.
“You’ve been worrying about Cho-yeon since earlier, haven’t you?”
“…Because she was obviously lying.”
Ah. That face again—displeased.
People often described Yeon-ho as slow and dull, but in truth, he was quite perceptive.
He caught the faint irritation in Seo-hyuk’s expression right away.
So he really does care about Cho-yeon…
Whether that care was romantic or just friendly, he couldn’t tell yet. But it was clear that Seo-hyuk treated her differently from everyone else.
“She probably didn’t want us to worry, that’s why she’s hiding it. Let’s just ask again later.”
“Before that, she’ll definitely do something reckless.”
“Cho-yeon’s pretty timid though. She wouldn’t go alone, right?”
“You clearly don’t know her.”
Now Seo-hyuk’s expression looked almost resigned.
“She’s scared of a lot of things, but she’s unpredictable. That’s what makes her a headache.”
“Haha. You really look out for her, huh?”
“What are you talking about.”
Seo-hyuk brushed him off and began loading food onto his tray. Yeon-ho followed his lead, and they took seats at a somewhat isolated corner table.
He’d noticed before that Seo-hyuk didn’t seem to enjoy interacting with others.
He’s good-looking, so people probably keep approaching him. Maybe that’s why he finds it exhausting.
The only reason Seo-hyuk even talked to him might have been because they shared a secret.
As soon as they sat down, Yeon-ho pulled out his phone. He angled the screen so Seo-hyuk could see, earning a blank, questioning stare.
“I’ve been digging through ghost-story forums to see if anything might help us find your family. Lately, there’s one that keeps coming up.”
“What is it?”
“Something called the Quick Service Ghost Story.”
That face—what on earth is that supposed to mean?—said it all.
Seo-hyuk scanned the screen briefly before asking,
“So it’s supposed to find whatever or whoever you’re looking for?”
“Yeah. But apparently it doesn’t work for everyone.”
Yeon-ho scrolled and opened another tab.
“It seems the results depend on the case.”
He swiped again and brought up another page.
“Here, these are success stories. One guy said he wanted to see his dead son. A delivery rider told him to get on the bike. He did—and somehow they arrived in Gangwon Province.”
Yeon-ho shuddered slightly as he continued reading.
“He’d left from Daegu, but when he got off in Gangwon, barely a few minutes had passed. Ghosts really are ghosts, huh?”
The man had arrived at an old elementary school in his hometown—the school his deceased son once attended.
After the boy died in a car accident, the father couldn’t bear to stay in that town full of memories and fled to Daegu to live with his parents.
“There was this big tree on the school playground. The rider was just standing silently beneath it. When the man approached, something brushed against his foot.”
When the father bent down and dug at the ground, he uncovered a small box.
Inside were random trinkets—clearly a makeshift time capsule kids had buried.
There were game cards, half-eaten snacks, a marble or two… and among them, a small folded piece of sketchbook paper. It had been carefully, lovingly folded.
Inside, the father found something precious—
a letter from his son, the only family he had left.
Dad is strong. He beat the big dog.
I’m going to be a superman like Dad. I’ll beat the biggest dog in the world.
I love you, Dad!
It was a letter he would never have found otherwise—a final gift from his lost child.
He hadn’t met his son again, but it felt as though he had. A bittersweet miracle.
Yeon-ho sniffled, eyes glistening. “It’s the first time I’ve cried reading a ghost story.”
“That’s not finding a missing person, though.”
Seo-hyuk’s expression stayed flat. Somehow, that made Yeon-ho understand why Cho-yeon always seemed mad at him.
“Still, maybe it could give us a clue? The people in the stories didn’t seem to be in any danger.”
“Hm.”
“I’ll try contacting this person and see if they can tell us more!”
“Sure.” Seo-hyuk started eating.
“Though I doubt Ma Cho-yeon will sit still until then.”
“Aw, come on, it’s not like she’ll get into trouble today.”
“You never know.”
A crooked smile tugged at Seo-hyuk’s lips.
“She might just drop another bomb today.”
Yeon-ho laughed. No way.
From what he’d seen, Cho-yeon was outgoing but timid—a cute, slightly prim girl, smaller than him. What could she possibly do?
Of course, that was because Tak Yeon-ho didn’t really know Ma Cho-yeon yet.
* * *
“Phew…”
I sprawled on my bed and let out a deep sigh toward the ceiling.
After school, I thought I’d take a nap, but sleep wouldn’t come.
In the end, I signed an overnight pass and headed to a 24-hour café.
They said you need to know the details about what you’re looking for, right?
Outside, night had already fallen. On the café table, my notebook lay open—every page filled with information about Ma Cho-hae.
Resident registration number, birth time, height, weight, physical features.
I’d even printed and taped a photo, just in case.
Time passed slowly. Maybe it was because of the faint hope that I might find my brother tonight.
Hope?
No… was that really the right word?
If I can’t find him again this time…
The fear of that disappointment made my hands tremble.
I exhaled heavily and tapped my phone screen. The bright display showed the time—3:50 a.m.
I looked outside. The streets were empty now; even the café was quiet.
It’s about time to go, isn’t it?
I didn’t know what kind of questions the “ghost” would ask, but if the conversation sounded strange, someone nearby might notice.
I pulled my hat low and stood. My reflection in the window showed a girl in a yellow hoodie and jeans—the same outfit I’d worn that morning.
A deserted place.
I’d already picked one—a narrow alley not far from the café, close enough to run to the main road if needed.
3:53 a.m.
As I left the café, the bell over the door jingled. Then—ding-ling—it rang again, urgently. I turned instinctively.
Huh?
A man was entering, leading another man inside.
Who meets at a café at this hour?
He’s huge…
He even looked familiar somehow.
I quickly shook my head.
He couldn’t be here. Not now.
By the time I checked the clock again, it was already 3:55.
I broke into a run toward the alley I’d chosen.
The Quick Service number…
The moment I stepped into the narrow lane, I pulled out my phone and dialed carefully.
444-4444.
The time: 3:59 a.m.
I inhaled deeply, then exhaled.
4:00 a.m. I pressed “Call.”
Brrr…
The ringing echoed in my ear.
Seconds stretched, each one feeling like a minute.
Click.
[Sasa-sa Quick Service.]
A middle-aged man’s voice.
[What would you like delivered?]
The tone was unusually flat—no warmth, no hint of emotion, not even polite customer service.
I swallowed hard and answered slowly.
“I… want to find a person. Is that possible?”
[Please state the name and your relation.]
“Ma Cho-hae. He’s my younger brother.”
I hesitated, picturing his face. My voice trembled without my meaning it to.
“…He went missing recently. I haven’t been able to find him.”
[Checking.]
Silence.
The call was still connected—he hadn’t hung up.
What happens if they refuse?
Nervously, I bit at my ragged nails. They were already ruined from weeks of stress.
[Response ready.]
Finally—!
[Impossible.]
…!
In that moment, I forgot how to breathe.
