Episode 16
“A wish? Out of the blue? What wish?”
Joon-wan felt the need to explain the premise of his sudden question.
“Let’s say a very powerful being offers to grant you a wish if you help them with something.”
“How powerful? Like a god?”
“Why? Is this a story about folklore?”
“Not quite a god, and not folklore.”
“If they’re so powerful, why can’t they handle it themselves?”
“Like a Dokkaebi, maybe? By the way, Joon-wan, are you raising an earthworm?”
It took a while to get them to understand the premise.
“Not a Dokkaebi, and yes, I’m raising an earthworm. Why? Is there a problem with that? Anyway, it’s powerful enough to grant someone a wish, so just tell me what your wishes are.”
“A wish…”
They both crossed their arms and fell into contemplation.
“Hmm… Joon-wan.”
Gi-jun was the first to speak.
“Can it do Bitcoin?”
“What?”
Joon-wan frowned.
“I’m asking if it can manipulate cryptocurrency. And wouldn’t it be a problem if I suddenly had a large sum of money with no traceable source? What about taxes? Money laundering? Can it handle all that?”
Joon-wan sighed at Gi-jun’s question.
“Or, can it tell me the results of my current research? I’ve been working on it for over five years.”
Young-shin chimed in.
“…”
“Actually, it would be better if it could make me win the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine. I could be the first Korean to win a Nobel Prize in science.”
“Oh, if that’s possible, I want it to help me discover a tomb that supports the hypothesis for my upcoming paper.”
‘Would Hanin even understand any of this?’
Joon-wan wondered.
‘Could it actually grant Gi-jun’s wish?’
…Well, the last wish seemed somewhat plausible.
***
That evening, after work, Joon-wan bought enough groceries for a family of two for a week, a first for him. Instant rice, seaweed, side dishes, drinks, snacks… the cart piled up as he added items one by one.
‘Why are there so many individually packaged items?’
Looking around with a newfound awareness, he noticed how excessively humans packaged everything.
‘Could… Hanin even heat these up herself?’
Many items required microwaving or boiling in a pot. He had thought they were simple meal kits, but they seemed far too complicated for the earthworm living in his home.
“There’s so much to teach her…”
In Korean folklore, the Wooreonggakshi (snail bride) cooked and cleaned for her husband. This earthworm, however, made him worry about her accidentally poisoning herself.
He knocked on the door before entering his apartment, afraid the doorbell might startle Hanin.
“I’m home.”
He entered the dark apartment. The television was on in the distance, but there was no answer.
‘What is she watching?’
He had no idea.
He carried the groceries to the kitchen table and turned on the light.
‘How many hours has she been watching TV?’
As he filled the refrigerator, which had previously contained only bottled water, the constant sound of the television grated on his nerves.
‘She must have taken a break at some point, right?’
He listened closely. It was a movie he recognized, a classic film about a man who collects canned food with his ex-lover’s birthday as the expiration date.
Click.
He turned on the living room light.
Hanin was sitting in the same position as when he had left for work that morning, her eyes glued to the television screen.
“…”
She was practically burning a hole through the screen.
Joon-wan’s eyes narrowed as he watched her. He found the remote control and turned off the television.
Click.
“Hmm?”
Hanin finally looked up, seemingly unaffected by the interruption. She showed no signs of hunger or fatigue.
“Why did you do that?”
‘Why did you do that?’
Joon-wan said, his eyes sharp.
“Go wash up.”
“I’m not dirty.”
“You haven’t showered today, have you? Go wash up now.”
“I showered yesterday. Why do I have to shower again today? And turn that back on. It was getting to the good part.”
They couldn’t communicate. Joon-wan grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her up.
“Gah!”
She let out a strangled gasp.
‘She’s an earthworm. She’s an earthworm.’
“Let’s talk after you’ve washed up. Okay?”
“I told you, I’m clean!”
He pushed her, struggling and protesting, into the bathroom and closed the door. He threatened to withhold television and food if she didn’t shower.
“That’s not fair, is it?”
He heard her grumbling for a while before the sound of running water filled the bathroom. Joon-wan sighed.
‘I don’t even expect a Wooreonggakshi.’
She was more like a demanding child, a child who needed constant attention.
He placed her freshly laundered pajamas by the bathroom door and turned away.
‘What should I make for dinner?’
Normally, he would have grabbed a quick bite on his way home. But now, he was obligated to prepare a “sincere” meal every day.
‘I’m the one who’s become the Woo렁gakshi.’
He went back to the kitchen, took off his jacket, hung it on a chair, and rolled up his sleeves.
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
He retrieved the knives, wooden cutting board, and other utensils he had been keeping for show or had received from his parents, and began preparing dinner with more care than usual.
He washed the rice and set it to cook, arranged side dishes on plates, heated pre-prepared meals, and cooked some ingredients in a frying pan.
Most of the meal was still pre-prepared. He couldn’t suddenly become a master chef, and it was much more convenient.
With time to spare after finishing the preparations, he found a notebook and sat down at the kitchen table.
He started writing down instructions on how to use the microwave, how to turn on the gas stove to boil water, and how to open food packaging.
‘What if she causes more trouble after I teach her?’
Teaching was part of his job, but these were tasks he had learned so naturally that he barely thought about them, making them difficult to explain.
‘But… can she even read Korean?’
He had many questions to ask her.
“Why do I have to shower…?”
Ten minutes later, Hanin entered the kitchen, her face clean and glowing, her hair still damp. Her eyes widened at the sight before her.
“How did you prepare such a feast so quickly?”
“It’s a world where everything has to be done quickly. Have a seat.”
“Even so…”
She sat down with a cheerful smile. Joon-wan, now somewhat accustomed to the situation, clasped his hands together, facing the beaming Hanin.
“…”
And he began to pray.
To pray. Anyone who knew him would be shocked. But he desperately wanted the rain to stop.
‘Please let this being before me return to the heavens.’
The rain was causing widespread damage, and he couldn’t ignore it, even if no one else knew about the cause.
‘Please let the rain stop, and let everyone in this land live their lives as they used to.’
Above all, he felt guilty for causing the dragon to fall from the heavens.
‘I also wish to return to my normal life.’
As a folklorist, he had collected many legends and folktales.
A dragon that falls from the heavens becomes a vengeful spirit, harming humans. If that happened, the damage wouldn’t end with the rain.
Flash!
Light emanated from Hanin’s body again.
“That’s enough. Let’s eat.”
“Wait.”
Joon-wan stopped her as she reached for her chopsticks with a smile. She blinked at him.
“I have a question.”
“Ask away.”
“You said… you would grant me a wish, right?”
Hanin tilted her head, water dripping from her damp hair onto her shoulders and back.
“Hmm, I did, didn’t I?”
“Anything I want.”
“Yes.”
She nodded and smiled.
“Have you thought of a wish you’d like to fulfill?”
“It would have to be within your capabilities, right? As a dragon.”
“Well… yes, but…”
She blinked at his serious expression.
“What exactly are those capabilities? What are their limits?”
“Limits? What do you mean?”
He asked directly, seeing her confused expression.
“For example, could you deposit a large sum of untraceable cryptocurrency, like Bitcoin, into my account? Or could you develop a cure, a new drug for a disease?”
Her eyes widened.
“Bitcoin? Cure? What… is a new drug?”
“Like a cure for a disease.”
“A cure for what?”
She looked completely lost. Joon-wan said with a serious expression,
“I don’t know when you last descended to the human world, but there’s a plague spreading in this world.”
“A plague?”
“A global pandemic.”
“A pandemic?”
Hanin looked increasingly bewildered by his words.