---

The uninvited guest appeared so suddenly.

After driving for several dozen minutes on a somewhat deserted road in an electric car rented from a Chinese rental company.

While driving along the long, straight road, the manager, who was behind the wheel, spotted a person standing right in the middle of the road.

A scruffy-dressed man.

Was he a construction worker from the nearby site? Or perhaps a farmer doing his farming?

The man, dressed in dusty and tattered clothes, stood blankly in the middle of the road.

‘Could he not hear the electric car coming because it’s so quiet? Or is he hard of hearing?’

The manager dismissed the scruffy-dressed man standing in the road as unremarkable.

It’s a sight seen often in Korea, isn’t it?

From people who keep walking in the middle of the road instead of going around, to those who drunkenly lie down right in the road as if they’d rather die, and even those who act as if they’re some sort of warrior, blocking cars with their bodies to start a fight.

Life is the same everywhere among people.

The manager thought that the man standing in the middle of the road was just like them.

Especially since the road they had entered was not particularly busy—rather, it had a somewhat eerie atmosphere, which led him to believe that even more.

Isn’t the lack of pedestrian crossings in the countryside simply due to the light traffic?

Looking at the man’s attire, he seemed like a rural person, so it would make sense for him to use the road like any major thoroughfare without a crossing.

Thinking like that, the manager honked the horn to warn him before attempting to pass.

“What the…!”

Screech—!

If only the man hadn’t casually stepped in front of their car.

“Are you crazy?!”

In utter disbelief at the man’s self-endangering antics, the manager rolled down the window and shouted, completely forgetting that they were in China, momentarily losing sight of the fact that the man probably couldn’t understand Korean due to his rage.

“What is this? Why are you blocking the car? Move!”

The manager calmed himself and spoke to the man, who was still just standing there, in Mandarin.

“….”

But the man remained immobile.

With a face full of wrinkles, he simply stared at the car.

“What’s going on? Did I say something wrong? No way…. My Mandarin is decent enough….”

Was it because of the man’s attitude?

For a moment, the manager doubted his Mandarin skills.

But there’s no way his abilities, which could confuse even locals, had suddenly deteriorated.

Convinced that the man was intentionally blocking the car and ignoring his words, he sighed and was about to close the window and call the police when—

“Hey there. You inside, young lady… mademoiselle? Why don’t you take a look into my fortune?”

A voice.

A voice that didn’t match the wrinkled face.

With a tone that could barely be described as middle-aged, he spoke in slurred and awkward Mandarin.

Then he raised his hand as if his face itched and began scratching at his wrinkle-filled forehead.

His fingers, with dirt embedded in the nails, brushed across the forehead so roughly.

Yet, there was not even a sound from his scratching.

Not even a whisper.

He then spoke again.

“Would you like to have your fortune told?”

Was it because of the ridiculous hat he wore?

Whether it was pressed down tightly or due to the angle of the road, his eyes were not visible.

It was as if shadows danced around his eyes, and the deep-set gaze gave only a hint of its outline, making it hard to discern his true intentions.

If the eyes were indeed the window to the heart, then that man’s heart was undoubtedly filled with darkness.

There was no way someone would hide that much unless they had something to conceal….

“…this.”

The manager felt something was going wrong.

He became convinced that the person before him wasn’t just an ordinary farmer.

An all-too-late realization.

A feeling of goosebumps creeping down his scalp. This feeling.

It came way too late.

He needed to close the window.

He had to shut off the passage connecting the outside to the car.

The manager instinctively moved his hand to close the window.

Thud.

But as if expected, the man’s hand got caught in the window.

Clunk.

Clunk.

Was it because it was made in China?

Even with a person’s hand stuck, the window tried to keep rising.

It seemed determined to crush the wrist caught in the gap, clunking along relentlessly.

Through it all, the man merely stared into the car, showing no fear of his wrist being cut off, as if he was certain it wouldn’t happen.

In the car.

Meeting his gaze was the Chaine.

And then, without moving his mouth properly, he merely flicked it open and asked again.

“Would you like to have your fortune told?”

Though the Chaine was closer, she glanced at his unseen eyes and, after a moment of hesitation, asked a question instead of providing an answer.

“What’s the payment for your service?”

The question about payment.

“….”

A brief moment of silence.

Then, with a deflated laugh, the man’s body quivered.

Or rather, it looked somewhat shaky.

“Payment… is important.”

With the hand free from the window, the man scratched his neck.

Those dirty, grimy fingers.

His hook-like fingers scraped across his neck, leaving something crimson or perhaps unidentifiable on the tips.

Was it the eerie road?

Or was it the shadows?

Strangely, what flowed from the man’s neck didn’t appear to be blood but something darker and stickier. Yet, it somehow looked refreshing and light, making it impossible to distinguish whether it was truly blood or some foul substance.

Squelch.

A sound was heard as his fingers grazed against the window.

The sight of something red smeared across the glass, like musical staff lines.

In that moment, both the manager and the Chaine realized.

‘…the hands.’

‘They’re the same hands, aren’t they…?’

Two hands that should be different.

Yet, those hands were identical.

Two left hands.

One was caught in the window while the other was pressing against the glass, boldly showcasing its presence.

“Ah, it’s been a while since I heard someone ask for payment… this is quite amusing…”

The man laughed.

He tried to keep his mouth closed, making a grimacing face to hide his teeth.

Was it because of the wrinkles?

For some reason, the man’s face resembled that of an old man on the verge of tears.

“Mademoiselle… I’m not very good with Mandarin… I’m not getting used to it… it’s better to speak comfortably….”

His voice drooped.

Despite the movement of his lips, he spoke with a clear volume.

As if his chest heaved when he spoke.

He exuded an unsettling air, causing one to doubt whether he was human.

“Mademoiselle… what do you have in the car…?”

“Mademoiselle.”

The word presumably a dialect of “Mademoiselle” in French, referring to an unmarried woman, rolled off his tongue.

“….”

Strange.

The man, seemingly giving off a bizarre atmosphere, spoke French, of all things.

How odd for a man who looks like he’s endured all sorts of hardships to speak French—a word utterly unrelated to the nationality of anyone present…

“It was peculiar.”

The Chaine met the man’s gaze as he called her mademoiselle and slowly opened her handbag.

And then, after rummaging for a while—

“…Here. This smartwatch I bought as a souvenir after the audition program ended… will this suffice for payment?”

“Oh, a smartwatch. If it carries a story, it’s absolutely enough. More than sufficient….”

The man’s hand moved.

One of his hands, still in the window, shot out to snag the smartwatch she presented from the back seat.

He inspected it closely, rubbing it against the tarnished fabric of his clothes before tossing it into his pocket.

Then, he pulled his hat low and pressed his face against the window.

Squelch.

The red smear from earlier melded with his face, creating strange shapes on the glass, as if it were an inkblot test. In addition, despite the substance covering his face, the man showed no sign of disgust as he shifted angles to observe the Chaine…

“That’s a face loved by beasts….”

He declared, like a fortune teller proclaiming his readings.

“The fate of a person differs based on their environment and position… in that regard, Mademoiselle’s fate isn’t all that bad… otherwise, you’d have long been devoured if you were a hunter… and if you ran a company, you’d be a target for the beasts and eaten alive….”

“….”

“Those who share the same fate as Mademoiselle are loved… by beasts or beastly people. The fact that Mademoiselle has a profession where she is loved by many is an excellent manifestation of that fate… a brilliant choice….”

“….”

“Yes… and on top of that, your dharma isn’t bad either… but still, it’s… not particularly special or interesting….”

The man’s lips curled upwards, adding more wrinkles to his already wrinkled face.

“Well then, Mademoiselle… I don’t think there’s anything left to tell your fortune about… you may leave now….”

He then released a spell of dismissal while laughing…

 

---