The Congressman Bows Low

Goo Young-jin was curious about the afterlife.

People said that when you died, there was nothing.

At least, that wasn’t the kind of afterlife Goo Young-jin was experiencing.

Goo Young-jin opened his eyes again.

But what unfolded before him was.

Neither heaven nor hell.

Nor was it an endless expanse of darkness.

Nor was it a distant four-dimensional world.

The afterlife that unfolded before his eyes was.

Seocho-dong, Seocho-gu, Seoul.

Apparently, when people died, they went to Seocho-dong.

Goo Young-jin found himself lying on the ground beneath the Seocho-dong building from which he had jumped to his death.

There were plenty of people passing by, as was typical of Gangnam.

Yet of the countless people passing him by, not a single one spared him a glance.

“Hey.”

“Excuse me.”

“Hey, hey!”

Goo Young-jin tried to get the attention of the passersby, raising his voice with each attempt.

But no one responded to his calls.

That was when he realized.

‘Oh, I’m a ghost.’

Living people can’t see or hear me.

So how long am I supposed to be stuck like this?

‘If this is what the afterlife is like, I’d rather be asleep and oblivious to everything…’

Goo Young-jin decided to try leaving Seocho-dong.

But he couldn’t move a single step.

It was as if he were stuck in a swamp, unable to budge an inch.

So was he doomed to sit here with his eyes open, unable to move a muscle?

This was hell, even without the fire and brimstone.

“Goddamn it…”

For a while, Goo Young-jin despaired.

But no matter how low he hung his head or how tightly he curled up into a ball, nothing changed.

He was simply a soul bound to the asphalt of Seocho-dong.

Without a physical form, he wasn’t even a body.

He was a soul trapped in Seocho-dong.

This is what they call a wandering spirit.

“Someone, please look at me! Someone, please hear my voice! Please!”

Though he had thought he would welcome death when it came, now that it had, a wave of terror washed over him.

Goo Young-jin writhed and screamed.

But it was no use.

He was forced to sit still, watching the people pass by.

Staring at the signboards.

With nothing else to do, Goo Young-jin’s observations became extremely detailed and meticulous.

He scrutinized the pattern on a woman’s dress, debating whether it was pineapples or crescents.

He examined the shoes of a man passing by, trying to determine whether they were made of cowhide or crocodile leather.

It was pathetic, but he had no choice.

There was nothing else he could do but engage in such trivial pursuits.

Then he moved on to the signboards.

Seocho Billiards Hall.

Hanwoo Garden.

Jungyul Law Firm.

McDonald’s.

Hyundai Motor Company.

Chohung Bank.

“Chohung Bank…?”

Wait a minute, Chohung Bank?

Goo Young-jin stared blankly at the Chohung Bank sign.

That bank had gone under during the IMF crisis.

By 2008, the year he had taken his own life, it was already a thing of the past.

But there it was, Chohung Bank.

His eyes widened in shock.

Once he had noticed Chohung Bank, everything around him suddenly seemed unfamiliar.

Upon closer inspection, he realized that this was not the 2008 he had known.

Even the way people dressed seemed strangely outdated, and to his nearly seventy-year-old eyes, outdated meant outdated.

And the most conclusive piece of evidence was the conversations people were having.

Although others couldn’t hear Goo Young-jin’s voice, he could hear theirs.

Eavesdropping on the conversations of passersby was one of the few pleasures he could indulge in amidst his unbearable solitude.

“What? Sung-wook fell into the Han River? Oh man, I’ve been hearing about people dying left and right lately. Now it’s happening to people I know. So where’s the funeral? What? Pyeongtaek? Pyeongtaek is a bit out of the way…”

So many people were dying all of a sudden.

“Things may be tough, but what can you do? In times like these, you have to be grateful for any work you can get. Even if the pay is low, at least it’s enough to buy rice.”

You have to be grateful for any work you can get.

“Really? The stock market has recovered to 300? That’s what I’m talking about. I told you, didn’t I? It’s only just beginning. Don’t panic, just hold on tight.”

The KOSPI had recovered to 300.

“What good does it do to collect gold and donate it like crazy? The common people are sacrificing their gold rings, but the chaebols are using it to make money through gold trading. It’s infuriating.”

And most conclusively, the common people were donating their gold.

That meant that this must be.

The IMF crisis.

Goo Young-jin couldn’t help but swallow hard.

It had to be at least 10 years before the year he had died in 2008.

Even if the workings of heaven were beyond human comprehension.

But was this even making sense?

Not only was a dead man being held back in the mortal realm, but time had been rewound 10 years.

If there was a god, no matter how malicious he might be, surely he couldn’t be this malicious.

Goo Young-jin was not easily surprised, but he couldn’t help but be repeatedly shocked by the things that were happening to him after death.

But his surprise was short-lived.

Goo Young-jin’s mind returned to his original question: how long would he have to go on like this?

Surely he wasn’t being punished by being forced to rewind time to 10 years before his death and then being left to rot here until 2008 came around again.

That was unthinkable.

His hypothesis began to seem more and more plausible.

A sleepless ghost, aimlessly wandering.

He spent his first night as a ghost wide awake.

And the first night turned into the second, the second into the third, the third into the fourth…

And so a week passed.

Without hunger, without thirst, without sleep.

He simply floated there, until one day.

Someone who recognized Goo Young-jin approached him.

“Hey, hey, young man.”

He spoke to him in a trembling voice.

***

– I’m so sorry. My uncle passed away suddenly, so I don’t think I’ll be able to meet you today.

“Oh, I see. Well, there’s nothing you can do about that. May he rest in peace.”

Cha Jae-rim hung up the phone and chuckled.

“If you’re going to make an excuse, at least make it a little more believable.”

The call had been from a woman he had been scheduled to go on a blind date with.

Why had this woman decided not to meet him when it was almost time for their date?

She must have somehow caught sight of him from a distance and decided to turn and run.

Cha Jae-rim looked at his reflection in the window.

‘My face isn’t so ugly that someone would turn around and run away as soon as they saw me.’

To be honest, he thought he was quite good-looking.

Cha Jae-rim tilted his head down slightly.

‘Maybe my outfit is too tacky?’

If that was the case, then there was nothing he could say.

He was struggling financially and couldn’t afford to buy nice clothes like other people, so he did look a little shabby.

‘Even so, she could have at least come and talked to me before just leaving.’

At least she hadn’t given him some ridiculous excuse, like needing to watch the 9 o’clock news.

That much was a relief, because it meant that she had at least taken the time to think of a somewhat plausible excuse for blowing him off.

‘Fine, if she’s the kind of woman who would leave after seeing what I’m wearing, then it’s better if we don’t cross paths again anyway.’

Having reached a satisfactory conclusion, Cha Jae-rim stood up with a smile.

He had been planning to go to an expensive restaurant for dinner.

But it would be too extravagant for Cha Jae-rim to enjoy it alone, since he didn’t have a date.

“Would you like to order now, sir?”

“Excuse me, but something has come up. I’ll come back another time.”

“Oh, I see.”

Cha Jae-rim apologized to the waiter with another smile and got up from his seat, leaving without a shred of regret.

‘I’d already come all the way to Seocho-dong, which is quite inconvenient for me to get to by public transportation, for her sake.’

‘I won’t give it another thought.’

Cha Jae-rim put his hands in his pants pockets and walked towards the subway station, whistling to himself.

A cold autumn breeze swept across his chest, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for himself.

As he crossed the street towards the station.

[Son of a bitch, damn it, fucking hell! Dammit, son of a bitch, fucking hell!]

An old man’s loud cries pierced his ears.

There were always drunks shouting obscenities in the streets, but it was rare to hear someone shouting so clearly.

Cha Jae-rim clicked his tongue in annoyance and was about to keep walking when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

[Fucking hell, damn it, fu…, huh?]

The old man, who had been shouting obscenities without any regard for the people around him, stopped his tirade when he sensed Cha Jae-rim’s gaze.

Cha Jae-rim stopped walking and watched him in silence.

Then, Goo Young-jin’s pupils dilated.

[H-hey, young man.]

“…..”

[You can see me right now, can’t you?]

“…..”

[Answer me, damn it! You can see me, and you can hear me, right?]

Cha Jae-rim slowly nodded his head.

“I can see you.”

[Oh, my God!]

Goo Young-jin cried out to the Lord, whom he had never sought out in his life.

Cha Jae-rim chuckled.

“Why is a ghost praying to the Lord?”

[Y, you know that I’m dead?]

Goo Young-jin’s face was the very picture of shock.

Cha Jae-rim replied in a hushed voice.

“Yes, I do.”

[Would you mind speaking up a little? I can’t hear you very well.]

“I can’t speak up.”

[Why not?]

Cha Jae-rim gave him a troubled look.

“Right now, you’re only visible to me. If I speak up, everyone else will see me talking to empty air and think I’m crazy.”

[Ah, I see… I didn’t think about it from your perspective. My apologies.]

Goo Young-jin was not a man who was quick to apologize.

To a politician, an apology was like a declaration of surrender that came only when they were backed into a corner.

In the over 60 years of his life, the number of times he had apologized could be counted on one hand, with a little exaggeration.

To think that he would be giving one of his precious apologies to a young man he had just met, for no good reason at all.

But now, he was willing to apologize and do whatever he had to to keep the young man from leaving.

Goo Young-jin asked, his voice filled with tension.

[Son, what year is it now? Is it 2008?]

“It’s 1998.”

Goo Young-jin was proud of himself that he had picked up on that so quickly.

Indeed, Goo Young-jin’s sharp mind had survived even death.

[Of course, of course, that’s right. But how can you see me?]

“Let’s just say that it’s complicated. It’s not something I can just explain easily here.”

[Is that so? Well, in that case, would you mind freeing me from this place? Huh? Let’s go somewhere quiet where we can talk.]

Cha Jae-rim gave a wry smile.

“If my blind date had been a success today, I might have been more generous.”

[…what?]

“Things didn’t go so well today. So I’m not really in the mood. I’m sorry.”

Cha Jae-rim bowed politely to him and then passed him by without a second glance.

Goo Young-jin was filled with panic, like a child who had lost his mother.

[H, hey! Wait! Wait up!]

Goo Young-jin screamed after Cha Jae-rim, who was walking away.

But Cha Jae-rim didn’t stop.

Goo Young-jin cried out, on the verge of tears.

[I came from 2008! Huh? I know the future, 10 years from now! That means I can make you a billionaire! How’s that? Huh?]

At his desperate cry, Cha Jae-rim abruptly stopped walking.

Seeing that his tactic was working, Goo Young-jin spoke even more quickly.

[If you come with me, it will definitely be to your advantage. I don’t know what you do for a living, but I can guarantee this much! I’m a man who always repays his debts, whether they be favors or grudges!]

Cha Jae-rim stopped walking and examined his pitiful appearance.

His clothes were so shabby that a woman had run away the moment she saw him.

Poverty had been a constant curse in Cha Jae-rim’s life.

‘If what that old ghost said is true, and I lift his unrealistic curse, perhaps he will lift this unbearable curse of poverty off my back…’