FILE 7: THE GHOST WARDEN PART 1

It was nearing the end of March when I finally got over my, ahem, rejection. I sulked for weeks.

It was my first time getting rejected by a woman I liked, so sue me. But I got over it, and I'm now back to normal. I even sent a thank-you message when I got Min Sung's gift for White Day.

Apparently, White Day is the opposite of Valentine's Day. Min bought me a man's bracelet, a bronze chain with a good luck charm attached. 

The weather is now turning to spring, and looking outside, I can see many flowers starting to bloom already.

This will be my second year in South Korea. From the windowsill, Mars eyed a tiny bird that was chirping happily outside when I moved to make tea. 

"Morning, Mars. Did anyone call?" I yawn. "You have an email. Do you mind adding a little more soy sauce to the sardines? Last time you made it bland," he said absent-mindedly.

I did as he instructed and, paused to examine myself in the mirror (right, perfect), gave him his food while sitting to eat my own.

No need to tell you what I'm wearing, right? Just the usual black clothes. But my hair was loose and wavy, and I wore my new bracelet. 

After washing up, I retired to the desk in the small study and opened my laptop to check emails.

Mars was right, in the corner was the notification. Clicking on the icon, I quickly read through the email.

"Dear Mr. Nathan McNeill,

I hope this finds you in good health. My name is Chun Do-Yoon. I am the great-grandson of the Warden of a certain prison. When we meet, I will tell you in greater detail, but I am willing to pay you fifty million won for your services."

Fifty million won. Fifty million won. That's about thirty-seven thousand dollars! I'm taking this job, I'm so taking this job.

Not bothering to read the rest, I clicked the email closed, but not before the name Seodaemun Prison flashed across the screen. 

It sounded familiar—not that it matters. He's paying FIFTY MILLION WON! Cheerfully, I gave Mr. Chun, no, Chun-nim a call, and we scheduled a meeting.

He sounded very happy to hear from me. Me too, man, me too.

Mars lazed on his bed, his tail curled around his body. His head shot up as I slammed the study door open with a determined expression.

"Meow? What's got your feathers ruffled?" he moaned, dissatisfied. 

"Fifty million won, Mars! We can finally visit the hot springs!" I gave him the good news. He sprung up, his tail straight, in elation. 

"The Hakone Onsen? You mean you got a good punk- I mean, client this time?" he cried happily. I gave it a thumbs up. We celebrated for a few hours, eating takeaways, chocolates, and drinking before Mars got serious again.

"What's the job, by the way?" he asked me as he lapped up his milk. I drank a glass of fine wine that I had saved for certain occasions.

"Oh, I didn't mention it? Something to do with a warden from some prison or some such," I replied nonchalantly. I reached for another glass.

Mars glanced at me, dubious. Hey cat, there's a trip on the line, so don't you look at me like that. I know what I'm doing. 

"What?" I demanded irritably. 

"Did you read the whole email?" he questioned intently. What does he know?

"I know enough."

"I see. Is my presence needed?" He was still naggy. "No! I'll be okay by myself," I assured him avidly. I swallowed the wine, and my face started to feel hot. It will be okay, after all, I'm the Otherworld Inspector. I have badass skills

Drunkenly, I heard Mars mutter something, but I fell asleep, so I didn't think about it any more.

*

Mars lay beside his bowl of milk. He was very concerned about his partner and his relaxed attitude, but he couldn't help but feel enthusiasm build up inside.

He heard of Japan's famous hot springs and always wanted to visit them.

The problem was that their finances were too low, and they had to first consider their living conditions. Nathan didn't tell Mars about the next case, which made him suspicious. He couldn't have bothered not to read the whole mail, could he?

No one would be arrogant enough to-. He paused. It was Nathan who he was thinking about. With a sigh, he pushed his nice treat away, having lost his appetite.

Checking on the sleeping Nathan, he jumped from his new favourite spot, the kitchen island, and headed to the study.

Unfortunately, the door was closed. Making sure once again that Nathan was still in his drunken stupor, Mars concentrated.

A small red glow formed around his body. His fur turned into a smooth dark skin, his naked body stretched, and muscles bulged from his legs, arms, and torso

He stood his full length, which is nearly seven feet, and extended his muscular arms.

He had long, straight, flaming red hair that fell to just below his shoulders, and his eyes glowed yellow, just like Nathan's when he tapped into his powers.

He twisted the doorknob as silently as possible and disappeared as if he had never been there. Meanwhile, the door closed softly.

 *

I was awoken by a buzzing in my ears, which annoyed me intensely. I had a nice dream about flying, but it was interrupted by this constant noise.

I waved my hand, hoping the noise would go away.

"Nathan! Wake up, you fool. It's almost noon! Your meeting starts in ten minutes. Wake up!" Yes, yes. Ten more minutes.

Ten more minutes. Wait. I surged up, throwing a flustered ginger cat onto the floor.

"Did you say ten minutes?" I stammered, alarmed. Mars shook himself as he glared at me, "Yes! Now get going before you mess things up!"

Oh no, no, no, no. I got up swiftly. "Frankly, I would take a shower, but since I'm always so perfect, you'll never know I've skipped a day.

I just need to spray on some cologne." I slapped my clothes on my trusty perfume as Mars stared incredulously at me. 

"Sometimes I wonder what goes on in there. You have seven minutes. And stop admiring yourself in the mirror!" he scolded.

I laughed, slipped on my shoes, grabbed my red jacket, and rushed out the door. I admit, if Mars wasn't there, I probably would've messed up a lot of cases.

Luckily for me, it took me only a few minutes to get to the rendezvous, so I wasn't too late.

I usually meet clients at my house or at a restaurant. However, this time we met at the Art Gallery. I bought a ticket and searched for my client, Chun-nim.

'The art is pretty amazing,' I thought as I admired art pieces from centuries ago. I was inspecting a large Rembrandt painting when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Chun-Nim.

"I'm sorry for being late, I was delayed," I apologised as I bowed. He pulled me up. "No need, no need. I just got here myself.

Let us take a walk while we talk, shall we, Mr. McNeill?"

So we strolled through the exhibits as we talked. 

I studied the grim man beside me. Nearly a foot shorter than me, he looked every bit like a soldier. Buzz cut, stern expression, straight back, and wore a plain blue suit.

Will he be able to afford what he promised? Should I enter into a binding contract?

"I suppose you want the details I promised in the email." Oh, he was talking. "Do you know about Seodaemun Prison?

My late great-grandfather was the first Warden when it was established," he explained. 

"Seodaemun Prison?"

"Didn't you read my email?" he asked, surprised.

"Uh…I was busy, but it got corrupted by a virus. I'm getting my laptop fixed right now," I lied.

"I see. Well, it is mostly known for holding activist prisoners during the early nineteen hundreds. It was very brutal. 

Over three thousand prisoners were held in its time, and there was horrendous torture behind its walls. It closed in nineteen eighty-seven, but locals say there is still activity going on." This sounds like your average horror story. 

"What kind of activity?" Most likely ghosts, I thought smugly. "Lights," Chun answered fearfully. Wait, is that it? "By lights, you mean?"

"Not what you are thinking, I'm sure. They look like fox fires. They fly around flickering, and security hears whispers every night. Many think the place is cursed," Chun said nervously.

"Did anyone ever get injured or die? Or go mad, or were there unexplained accidents?" I interrogated Chun. He looked startled. "No, nothing like that. Just jump scares."

"Hmm." I guess it's not a spirit. I rested a comforting hand on his distressed shoulder.

"As long as you pay me what you promised, I'll do anything you ask of me," I patted him as I grinned widely. 

He winced and coughed, nodding. I jumped backward in embarrassment.

Oh, right, I still had alcohol on my breath. I assured him I hadn't drunk any alcohol that day as we arrived at the sculpture exhibit.

"You have my word that you will be paid in full when you finish the job," he vowed. Impressed, I asked, "Did you get an inheritance from a rich uncle or something?" He waved me off, saying, "Nothing like that. I may not look at it, but I own this Art Gallery."

Say what? What? What the (censor)? I gaped, flabbergasted, at this five-foot-tall soldier wannabe. He seemed so smug that he caught me off guard. The TWAT.

I said my farewells very politely, I might add. "I won't be able to contact you for the next few days, so be patient until I deliver the good news," I said as I shook his hand at the entrance.

He agreed, saying, 

"I have great expectations of you, Mr. McNeill. After all this is over, we can finally have some peace in the prison." He then gestured, "Would you like to let me give you a ride?"

A man in a fancy suit came up and bowed. I smiled slyly. "You know what? Don't mind if I do." And so I rode home in fancy limo for the first time in my life.

I'm so happy to be alive right now.