The Younger-Man Killer

I’ve met Ms. Kang Hyun-sook’s daughter before.

“Wait… it’s you, right?”

Her question holds a lot of history. Her name is Kim Yeon-ju, and yes, she is a civil servant. Two years ago, I worked for about three months as a temporary administrative substitute at the Resident Culture Center. At the time, she was a new appointee whose exact title I didn’t even know. I remember feeling a sting of envy back then, thinking, ‘She’s only a year older than me, but she’s already a civil servant.’

We didn’t have much to do with each other professionally. It was mostly just greeting each other at the start of the shift or helping clean up snacks and tea after meetings. As she got used to the place, she started naturally bossing me around—and I, being the temp, let her.

“It’s been a while. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

I couldn’t exactly roll my eyes back and act like a mystic right away, so I greeted her normally. Since it had been two years, I recognized her face instantly, but I had completely forgotten her name. Even when Ms. Kang mentioned her daughter, it hadn’t clicked. All I remembered from that office was the name of the Chief.

“You were so good at your job back then, I thought you’d stay in office work.”

Hearing that takes me back. There were a few awkward incidents at the center. We were both green, but because I had experience as an administrative clerk in the military and had done several public office part-time gigs, my understanding of the workflow was higher. In the army, if they told me to dig, I dug. For the pay I was getting, I figured there was no reason to refuse a task.

On the other hand, Kim Yeon-ju—possessor of the “defying superiors” fate—was different. She made typical rookie mistakes, met every scolding with an excuse, and if the Chief made her feel bad, she’d carry out her orders half-heartedly. Even as a bystander, the friction was obvious. The Chief used to use me as a weapon to discipline her.

‘Even the part-timer is better than you.’

That was the Chief’s constant refrain. To be fair, Yeon-ju wasn’t blameless, but the Chief was worse. Why compare a new hire—someone he’d be working with for years—to a part-timer who was leaving in two months? It only deepened the rift between two people who were stuck with each other.

“Anything you do while sitting in a chair is office work, isn’t it? Please, have a seat.”

The lucky thing was that despite the power dynamics, we didn’t end up on bad terms. Back then, as a non-regular contract worker cleaning up after civil servants, I used my social wits to survive. Whenever she tried to use me as an emotional trash can to vent her frustrations, I handled it. I treated her like an older sister on a bad day, did whatever she asked, played the role of the subordinate perfectly, and most importantly, I agreed with every single one of her complaints about the Chief. I hated that guy too, so it wasn’t hard.

By the time my stint ended, Yeon-ju had grown quite fond of me and was sad to see me go. Of course, I didn’t keep in touch. Catering to her whims was exhausting. The fact that I never offered to read her Saju for free back then proves I found her pretty burdensome.

“Wow, hearing you talk like that… I feel like I shouldn’t speak casually to you…?”

“You can speak comfortably.”

It was a bit awkward, but if I let awkwardness stop me, I shouldn’t be in business.

“So, why didn’t you show up when I offered to buy you dinner back then?”

“Ah, that’s because I already realized back then that your current boyfriend is a much better person for you.”

Just by looking at her, I could guess she sought out partners she could control. When a woman has a “defying superiors” chart, she often vibes well with younger men. She’s the type who needs to boss around her husband or boyfriend like a private soldier to feel satisfied. I’d seen her defiance at work; the diagnosis was easy.

“It was just a meal! A thank-you for working so hard.”

“But could I have really just eaten a meal?”

“My, my. Is that so?”

Yeon-ju shook her head, but she didn’t sound offended. I had successfully navigated a potentially tricky social spot. Given my “Women Luck” at the time, we probably really would have just eaten and nothing else, but she clearly felt a connection.

“So, I can drop the formalities, right?”

She already did. Even if I haven’t, she certainly has.

“Of course.”

“How did you know I have a boyfriend?”

“It’s not just Saju; I can tell just by looking at your face.”

Looking insightful never hurts. The logic goes: She has a boyfriend → She looks like someone who would have a boyfriend → She is attractive.

“But you got it right without even looking at my face earlier, didn’t you?”

Admittedly, I’m quite good at predicting relationship status. I built my career in the “cradle of national defense” full of frustrated men in their 20s. I’ve seen enough Saju patterns of those guys and the women they admire to recognize them on sight. A woman men admire? She’ll have plenty of dating experience because men are constantly flocking to her.

“Well, yes. Men are a constant in your life.”

“I take breaks! I’m alone for long stretches too.”

“Even then, there’s a ‘fling’ nearby. Guys who once clung to you and stayed in your orbit as ‘just friends.’ If you gave any of them an opening, you’d be dating in a heartbeat.”

I saw a comic once that said women in their 20s have “something” that just radiates. I agree. Unless a young woman is an extreme homebody, has a very unfortunate appearance, or a truly disastrous Saju, men are like ants to honey. The problem is usually that they don’t like any of the men available.

“So, about that ‘defying superiors’ thing?”

She had clearly come to argue about that label, but since we were old acquaintances, I had already scored some points. I had planned a high-pressure tactic to suppress her argumentative mood, but it didn’t seem necessary now.

“Yes.”

“You say I defy them?”

“If you didn’t, you would have been meeting older ‘oppas.’ But you’re a younger-man killer, aren’t you?”

“I… I’ve dated older guys before!”

“Maybe once or twice, or it never lasted long.”

Yeon-ju’s eyes went wide. “That’s spooky.”

She probably wanted to argue that she could date older men, but I blocked that with an unguardable line of logic. Just because she’s a younger-man killer doesn’t mean she’s never met an older man. Our social structure dictates that men usually need social status or financial stability to date and marry, so most women naturally start by dating older men. Statistics show only about 16 out of 100 marriages involve an older woman. Therefore, if a woman dates a lot and the ratio is even 50/50, she gets the reputation of being a younger-man killer.

“Why… why is that? It’s not like I specifically prefer younger guys.”

“Nobody has a strict ‘younger-only’ rule. Even if you prefer younger men, if an older guy is better and more appealing, you’ll meet him. It’s not that you won’t meet older men, it’s just that it doesn’t seem to work out well with them.”

“That’s true. It really doesn’t.”

“You probably want to get married, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Because you like kids.”

“Yes! Yes!”

Yeon-ju looked at me like, ‘How does he know all this?’ Again, an unguardable technique. Very few people come to a Saju reader and ask if it’s okay to live alone. People who hate kids usually don’t announce it to strangers. They might find kids annoying, but saying “I hate kids” is a social taboo that ruins one’s image.

“But your younger boyfriends don’t have marriage on their minds.”

“I can’t even bring it up.”

Honestly, if she’d just commit to her job, everyone would be happy. But Yeon-ju wouldn’t be. The problem is, she wouldn’t be happy if she quit, either. She’s someone who looks for happiness where it can’t be found. The conclusion? She needs a “pushover” who can handle her unhappiness. But because he’ll be the target of all her stress, his life expectancy might be short. To keep her from being alone for too long, he needs to be young. Ideally, someone who grew up without much love, has low self-esteem, isn’t great at dating, but has a high s*x drive. Someone who gets nagged and belittled constantly but is immune because his self-esteem was low to begin with—and someone who can “turn the tables” in the bedroom. That’s the only way they’ll stay together and have lots of kids.

“You’ve probably given your boyfriends pocket money before. Or tucked cash into their wallets secretly.”

“Uh… ahhh! Yes!”

She probably knows this intuitively, which is why she gravitates toward younger guys who usually aren’t well-off.

“Your dating pattern involves a lot of nagging without actually crushing their spirit.”

In reality, that behavior often does crush their spirit. The problem is she often uses her “easy” partner as an emotional dumping ground. Unless someone is a saint, everyone does this a little, but Yeon-ju is extreme. Of course, since she’s a customer, I filtered that thought. She has good points too, which is why she’s never single. I should mention those; they’re compliments.

“You’re beautiful and very proactive. You show exactly what you dislike and what you like. There’s no ‘push and pull’ or mysterious ‘woman-speak’ with you. Because you’re intuitive and open, you constantly attract young men who find women difficult and have little dating experience.”

She even thinks those guys are cute, treats them well, drinks with them, listens to their problems, and feeds them.

“Have you ever ended up dating a younger guy after giving him relationship advice?”

“I… have!”

“You nag a lot, but you’re also good at giving praise. Meeting someone like you means a lot of fighting, but dating is never boring.”

“Yeah, I think that’s right.”

She conveniently ignored the “nag a lot” part and looked delighted. Women who are younger-man killers usually have this Saju pattern. I’ve read about six of them, and it’s a consistent trend. Other women who date younger men usually do so because of the specific man, not the age; for Yeon-ju, being younger is practically a prerequisite.

“It’s because your Saju has an altruistic side; you’d rather take care of someone than be taken care of. That’s why you show independence to your superiors—which leads to trouble—but your care for subordinates is delicate.”

“Yeah, that sounds like me too.”

I just gave a high-class spin to “defying superiors.” To superiors, she’s impudent; to subordinates, she’s patient. Because subordinates listen to her, she thinks they’re following her lead and treats them well. Younger men who get “trained” in that gap between the nagging and the kindness are her primary prey.

“You’re really amazing. I don’t think I told you that much.”

I had built trust by nailing her dating patterns. It was time for the main point.

“Anyway, the point is you want to quit, and you’re asking if your Saju says you’ll be successful if you do, right?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Your Saju is good for success, but the world is not in a good place. No matter how great an individual’s Saju is, it’s hard to defy one’s ‘silver spoon’ status, national fortune, or the global trend. I wouldn’t recommend it. Hold on.”

“But you said I have the Saju for success.”

She only heard the part she liked.

“There is no Saju without failure, and no Saju that guarantees success. If there were, I’d be a billionaire by now. If a normal Saju has a 10% chance of success, a ‘good’ Saju means a 30% chance. It’s not a guarantee.”

The lesson of Saju Fortification is: ‘Don’t do it unless you have the skill.’ With a 30% chance, the person who can afford to try at least three times will eventually succeed. The responsibility for the failure of life fortification lies with the individual.

“It’s not like I’m going to start a business or anything.”

“If you’re thinking of re-entering teachers’ college or taking another civil service exam, I want to stop you even more.”

“Wait, how did you… did I mention that?”

I didn’t remember, but I probably had heard it before. Regardless, there was no reason to tell her I heard it from her mother. I had to play it off as the power of my mysterious Saju arts.

“No. But when someone with a ‘defying superiors’ chart is good at studying and interested in public service, they crave a position where they don’t have to deal with superiors. They often think of social work or teaching.”

“Why won’t it work?”

“You want to study again? Forget the superiors; your mother’s nagging will be even worse.”

“True.”

“And you just need to read the news. Can’t you see the teaching quotas are crumbling?”

“But I hate it so much. I feel like I’m going to die if I stay here.”

A session of venting followed. From what she said, her boss sounded like someone who deserved to be killed. But in her emotional rant, I saw gaps. The boss probably wasn’t as bad as she made them out to be, but I didn’t need to defend them. Not my customer.

As the 상사 (boss) bashing ended and my “get married” nagging—disguised as Saju analysis—wrapped up, Yeon-ju looked refreshed.

“You’re fun.”

“Thank you.”

“So for now… I should bring my boyfriend and his Saju, right?”

“My conclusion is still childcare leave.”

“Hey, I have to get married first!”

To be brutally honest, clinical results for women with Saju similar to Yeon-ju’s show that married life isn’t exactly smooth either. But hey, Saju is all superstition and nonsense, right? It probably won’t be true. She’ll be fine. She overcame her fate once; she’ll do it again. I don’t fully trust it, but if I don’t believe my client will succeed, my words lack sincerity. So, I choose to believe.

After sending Yeon-ju off, a message pinged.

[You have built a close relationship with an official of the government office. Luck points have been credited to Gwan-seong-un (Career/Authority Luck).]

Maybe that was why. After reading Yeon-ju’s Saju, I welcomed four more civil servant customers.

*************************************

“This looks like a Saju destined to eat the nation’s rice… You’re a civil servant, aren’t you?”

“Oh my, yes, that’s right.”

Lately, the number of visitors in their 30s and 40s has increased significantly. If they’ve studied at all, they’re invariably in the civil service or at a public corporation. It seems Yeon-ju has been spreading the word.

The lady I just welcomed was a civil servant in her early 40s with a bob cut and thick-rimmed glasses. She was Yeon-ju’s colleague. Surprisingly, despite the ten-year age gap, they were in the same hiring class.

“It seems you passed the exam after doing something else. You had the luck for passing exams later in life.”

With that one sentence, I won her trust. Her “Exam Luck” only appeared in her late 30s.

“I heard you were a disciple of Master Myeong-seung. It seems that was true.”

“Ah, yes. That’s correct.”

Master Myeong-seung had retired and gone into seclusion years ago, but he was a famous practitioner in this region. People still looked for him.

“Could you take a look at this?”

The colleague, who had mentioned Master Myeong-seung, pulled a clear file out of her bag.

I hope it’s not an insurance policy.