MD 11🔐

Chapter 11

After work, Yeonsu started climbing the narrow hill road toward home.

Banners were strung across the alley, messy and loud:

“Redevelopment will raise the value of Yong-ah Dong!”
“Let’s all live in good houses!”

But others shouted back:

“Save Yong-ah Dong just as it is!”
“This is our last home!”

The whole neighborhood was split in two—residents fighting each other, some for redevelopment, some against. This area was on higher ground than most, so every plan to redevelop it had started, then failed, then started again.

Rrrr—

Halfway up the slope, Yeonsu’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen—and her face lit up.

It was her mother.

Recently, her parents had decided to leave Seoul altogether. They still carried debts, and even living frugally in the city meant endless expenses. When a family friend from the countryside asked for help harvesting plums, they had taken it as a sign.

The village head offered them an empty house for free. Rural towns had plenty, since so many people had left for the city.

“We’ll farm, and somehow manage to live,”
her mother had said.

It was a sudden decision, but Yeonsu could only respect it. Even so, her heart felt hollow.

“Yeonsu, did you finish work? Have you eaten?”

Her mother’s warm voice came through the phone.

“Yes. I ate dinner at the company cafeteria after work.”

“Oh, good. I worried about you being alone, but at least they feed you three meals a day.”

That part wasn’t true. Haenam Construction didn’t even have a cafeteria. But Yeonsu lied—she didn’t want her mother to worry.

Her parents had left with nothing, and though it was her father’s hometown, for her mother it was a strange land. Life there would be full of hardship, yet still, her mother always worried about her instead.

Hearing her mother’s voice, Yeonsu felt her nose sting, her throat tighten.

“I’m sorry I can’t do anything for you,”
her mother whispered—and then began to cry.

Yeonsu quickly soothed her, ending the call with a heavy sigh.

“Nothing for me? That’s not true. You stopped me from dropping out of college. That was everything.”

She wiped her eyes with her palm and whispered to herself.

It had taken only three months for their lives to collapse—swindled, their home sold in auction.

“I’ll quit college and work.”

But her mother had begged her not to.

“We’ll manage somehow. Please graduate.”

Her father found a factory job. Her mother, who had never worked before, labored in a restaurant kitchen. Yeonsu herself worked part-time jobs. Even then, it was never enough to erase the mountain of debt.

If not for her mother’s support, Yeonsu would have dropped out and gone to work in a factory. She would have left for the countryside with them.

Instead, she had made it into Haenam Construction. That, too, was thanks to her mother.

Now her biggest goal was clear: become a full-time employee, so she could give her mother some peace.

But first, she needed a new place to live.

As she looked around absentmindedly, something caught her eye.

A flyer taped to a real estate office window:

“Detached house. 3 bedrooms, 1 living room. Lease deposit 50 million won.”

Yeonsu blinked.

In the middle of Seoul? Even if redevelopment was stalled, this price was unbelievable.

She stepped inside.

The office air was hazy with cigarette smoke. A heavy-set man in his forties sat smoking one after another. His cropped hair and broad frame made him look nothing like a realtor.

“I’m here about the house on the flyer. Is it still available?”

“The red brick one?”

He stubbed out his cigarette and stood up.

“Not rented yet. It’s empty now—you can see it right away. Want to take a look?”

Something about him seemed odd, but his brisk manner quickly eased her doubt.

“Yes, please show me.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

They climbed higher, almost to the top of the neighborhood. By the time they arrived, Yeonsu was sweating.

“Here it is.”

The man pointed.

It was a red-brick house, though the bricks had darkened over the years with stains and dust. The place looked old and gloomy.

“You’d get the whole house for that price. Practically a steal.”

He swung the rusty iron gate open with a loud screech.

Yeonsu stepped inside without much hope.

But she froze.

Inside the gate was a small, beautifully kept garden, filled with blooming flowers.

Her eyes widened. A soft gasp slipped from her lips.

Love at first sight.

There was even a little table and a parasol in the yard—perfect for sipping morning coffee.

“This is wonderful,” she breathed.

The realtor smiled at her reaction.

“Let’s see the inside.”

The interior wasn’t nearly as charming.

The bathroom shelves were rusty, the kitchen cabinet film was peeling, the wallpaper was stained and torn. A musty odor hung in the air, from years of vacancy.

But it was far larger than her current villa.

“The sunlight’s good here. Nothing blocks it on this hill.”

Sure enough, the evening sun streamed through the wide living room window.

Yeonsu tried the faucets and flushed the toilet. The strong water pressure impressed her.

Yes, it was old. Yes, it smelled. But with some repairs, it could be livable.

She peeked into a bedroom—there was even a solid wardrobe left behind.

“That’s from the last tenant. Sturdy, useful for blankets,” the realtor said, opening it.

“So, what do you think? Three other teams are coming tomorrow. If you want it, decide now.”

Yeonsu hesitated.

Her old place required 30 million won deposit plus 700,000 won rent every month. This new one needed 50 million deposit—20 million more—but no rent. And it was a detached house.

Too good to be true. Suspicion stirred.

“Why is it so cheap?”

“The owner won’t repair anything inside. Thought redevelopment was coming, but it fell through again. So now he just wants someone in. The house was listed today. You’re lucky.”

That made sense. This neighborhood had been swinging back and forth for years, investment and abandonment repeating.

“By next week, it’ll be gone. Maybe by tomorrow.”

“…I’ll take it.”

The words slipped out before she could second-guess herself.

The realtor grinned wide .