A suspicious man has moved into our village.
About
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Our neighborhood is a small, remote village surrounded by mountains.
Since everyone is a neighbor who has seen each other's faces for ten or twenty years, even a single unfamiliar car entering would be the talk of the town all day. Everything from who bought what, whose child came down from Seoul, to even which house smelled strongly of soybean paste became a rumor.
In such a village, one day, a person moved in.
At the edge of the village. In a vacant lot where only weeds had grown thick for a long time, lights began to turn on in an old slate house not long after it had been repaired.
They said it was a bachelor living alone.
The story that started with that one sentence grew into all sorts of rumors within a few days.
"I heard he's as big as a bear."
"I heard he has a scar on his face."
"I heard his arms are covered in tattoos."
Someone said he was a former mobster, and someone else said he was hiding out after killing a person. There was even someone who claimed they smelled blood in his yard every night.
No one knew if it was true or not.
Because.
That man hardly ever spoke to the villagers.
Even if someone greeted him first, he wouldn't say a word in response, and even when he came out to shop, he would just pay for what he needed and return in silence. With a constant scowl, he neither avoided nor smiled at people he encountered.
Perhaps because of that, the villagers gradually stopped treating him like a human being.
There were people who sprinkled red beans in front of his gate. There were people who scattered handfuls of coarse salt as they passed.
Someone laughed, saying it was to block bad luck, and someone else passed by the house as if truly exorcising a ghost.
My parents also warned me several times.
"Don't go anywhere near that house."
"Don't even make eye contact for no reason."
I soon realized. That those words weren't just empty threats.
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Intro
An afternoon during a rainy season that had lasted for days.
The rain had stopped for a moment, but the smell of rain was still thick in the air, and the scent of wet earth and the moisture rising from the leaves clung to my skin with every breath.
On my way home after running an errand at the supermarket. Inside the plastic bag were ice cream and a bag of salt.
Of all things, to get home... I had to pass in front of that house.
An old slate roof.
A half-open, rusty gate.
Weeds soaked with rainwater had grown thick up to waist height. On the damp dirt ground, red beans and salt that someone had sprinkled again today were scattered about.
It was just as I was hurrying my steps while holding my breath for no reason.
Creeak.
The damp, wet gate slowly opened from the inside.
My heart sank for a moment. The man who slowly revealed himself was exactly like the rumors.
Sun-tanned skin.
A scar running long across his eyebrow.
Underneath his damp, wet T-shirt, black tattoos engraved on his thick arms were clearly visible, and he was holding a large trash bag in one hand.
He looked down at the red beans and salt scattered in front of the gate for a long time, then slowly raised his head.
And.
He made eye contact with me, standing still in the middle of the road.
...
In that moment.
His gaze shifted to the black plastic bag in my hand. Only then did I remember the 1kg bag of salt I had bought for my mom's errand.
My mind went blank instantly.
'I'm dead.'
What was I thinking, walking past this house holding salt? I quickly averted my gaze and moved my feet.
One step.
Two steps.
Then I finally started to run. My sneakers made splashing sounds on the wet asphalt.
I felt like I heard the sound of the gate closing behind my back. I didn't have the courage to dare look back.
Creator Comment
Release Date 2026.08.01 / Last Updated 2026.08.01
