The Stalking Girl and the Stocking Man

It was the middle of the rainy season, deep in the night.

“It’s pouring like crazy.”

I wanted to close up shop and go home, but the rain was so heavy I didn’t dare step outside. The Myeong-seung Saju Clinic is equipped with a gas stove, water, a bed, a fridge, and a washing machine, so if I need to sleep here, I can. I decided to stay the night.

Thump, thump, thump.

What the—at this hour? I had locked the door to signal I was closed, but someone was persistently pounding on it.

“Who is it?”

“Please… Taoist, please save me.”

“Excuse me?”

Standing in front of the clinic was Ye Ji-su, clutching a suitcase, her clothes soaked through and clinging to her body. She looked like she had been crying and trekking through the downpour for hours.

<Asylum>

You take in and protect an individual whose personal safety is being threatened. Points for Career Luck (Gwan-seong-un), symbolizing control, and Resource Luck (In-seong-un), symbolizing benevolence, will rise intuitively.

If you protect them for 12 hours, Saju Fortification points for Resource Luck will increase by 1.

The system was basically telling me to take her in. The Saju Fortification message implied it, and besides, it’s hard to ignore someone literally begging for their life.

“Come in. Was someone chasing you?”

“Yes.”

She had an umbrella, but this wasn’t the kind of rain an umbrella could handle. She was drenched. It was almost embarrassing to look at her.

“Go wash up first. We don’t have a showerhead here, just a tap and a hose. Use the bucket.”

This “asylum” request was sudden and baffling. But unless I was setting up a safe house for defectors across the Yalu River, “Asylum” isn’t exactly a quest a normal person gets to complete often. I accepted it gladly. I didn’t have any clean towels, so I ran up to the second floor and borrowed one from the landlord.

“Thank you. Really, thank you so much.”

“It’s late and the rain isn’t stopping, so just rest here.”

“I was actually going to ask… is that really okay?”

“You don’t look like you have anywhere else to go. You committed adultery with your neighbor, so your family is probably furious too.”

“Um… how did you know that?”

It was 100% a “affair of the heart” issue. It’s hard to imagine a 21-year-old girl having massive financial debt, and if it’s a grudge worth running away in the middle of the night, it’s usually romance gone wrong.

“If a man were with you, it’d be an elopement. But since you’re alone and you ran away from your own neighborhood, it means you were kicked out. That implies a massive loss of face—the kind of shame a daughter brings that makes a family hide their heads.”

“Does… does that show up in my Saju?”

“No. I’ve just seen this happen a few times.”

Not here at the clinic, but back when I was a student in Daejeon. I’d occasionally taken in women I’d met through Saju consultations. Some of them were runaways exactly like this.

“Really? They just show up like this? To a place where a man lives alone?”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?”

“I figured he’d eventually find my friends’ places. I thought this was the one place he’d never think to look.”

Seeking refuge at the place of a Saju reader she’d only met twice at a contest—a man whose real identity she barely knew. It was bizarre, but brilliant. I was so far outside her social circle that no one would ever associate us.

“So, what happened? Did you get caught trying to meet another guy? Or is the man threatening to kill you? Or is his wife the one making threats?”

“The oppa… he said he’d kill me and then kill himself.”

“What? Why is he the one making death threats?”

The story came out. He was an older guy from her church youth group. She liked him, but he was distant because he had a girlfriend he intended to marry. Then one day, she sent him a photo complaining about a run in her stockings at school.

Apparently, he had a very specific reaction to that. The photo of her legs in stockings got a “lively” response, and they started talking constantly. Gradually, the photos escalated—ripped stockings, photos where she wasn’t wearing anything under the stockings, and so on. I stopped listening to the details.

“And his woman saw them.”

The wife (or fiancée) found the photos. The “Stocking Man” tried to claim she was a crazy stalker, but Ye Ji-su fought back, insisting that wasn’t the case. A “truth game” ensued. Enraged and cornered, the man started screaming, ‘Where is that b*tch? I’ll kill her and then kill myself! I’m the victim here!’

I wondered why she’d even bother with a guy like that. But people who believe their “pick” is never wrong—people who think they are always right—will stay with a guy even if he beats them into a miscarriage. If he suggests a double suicide, they’ll follow him to the grave. I haven’t seen a double suicide in person, but I’ve seen similar Saju patterns in old books regarding “faithful widows” who starved themselves to follow their husbands. And I have seen women who keep meeting men who caused them to miscarry.

“Why haven’t you broken up with him? He says he’s going to kill you. You want to die with him?”

“Well…”

My mistake. She doesn’t know why. Everyone else sees poop, but for some reason, she thinks it tastes like bean paste.

“Can’t you just tell me one way?”

“One way for what?”

“A way for me to break up with him… or for him to break up with his wife.”

CRA-A-ACK!

A bolt of lightning struck outside as if reacting to her blasphemous request.

<Family Guardian>

You have encountered a scheme by a mistress to destroy a family. If you dissuade her and preserve public morality, you will receive 300 points for Resource Luck (In-seong-un), which is related to morality.

300 points for Resource Luck? That’s the luck related to housing and academics. To earn that through studying, you’d need to study for 2 hours to get 1 point. That’s 600 hours of studying. She was offering me 25 days’ worth of work in a single quest. I had to do it.

Coldly speaking, even if I “reformed” her and separated them, that guy would probably just find another girl to cheat with. But that’s none of my business.

“But isn’t this already a breakup? Has he ever said such horrible things to you before? And you still want to see him?”

“I know it’s wrong. I’m scared. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t have run away. But… god, I’m such a crazy b*tch. Why am I like this?”

I wanted to ask why she was asking me, but it seemed her reason was still intact. When there’s a massive gap between a person’s reason and their emotions, they are in grave danger. It means their perception of reality and their ideals are far apart—a state highly vulnerable to suicide. A person needs to be able to control their emotions to a level they can justify to themselves. She couldn’t justify or control hers. At least her intellect was still fighting.

“Just find a new partner who fits your tastes better. If you’ve never received love, only desire, and you can’t let go… then that’s all it is. Desire.”

“Is there… such a partner?”

“If you go on an open chat and say ’21-year-old girl looking for a date,’ hundreds of guys will come running.”

“How can I trust people like that?”

“How can you trust the guy you’re with now? Isn’t he more dangerous? He literally said he’d kill you.”

“True. But still…”

She wasn’t the type to pick a random guy just to move on. There were two possible diagnoses here. One: this was a “crazy final love.” Two: she had high innate desires but her strong intellect was trying to keep her from being “wanton.” I couldn’t exactly tell her to go be wanton. It could be both.

In Saju, I’d bet on both. High innate desire coupled with a strong mind that focuses on only one person, believing it to be “true love,” making it impossible to cut ties.

“Just think of it as taking a ‘concubine’ for yourself. Stocking Man has a wife and you’re the mistress—why can’t you do the same?”

“Now that you put it like that…?”

My thinking is excessively free, but in cases like this, “polygamy” of the heart is the answer. Have two or three “top picks.” That way you have alternatives without becoming completely dissolute. But her loyalty would probably prevent that. She was already at the “I love him, I’ll die with him” level of devotion. So, I stopped the “free-thinking” advice and gave her a more traditional path.

“Since he threatened to kill you, keep your distance. You probably have male friends who are interested in you. Focus on them. Go have a meal with them.”

“What about you, Taoist? Do you want to have a meal with me?”

A counter-proposal.

“I’m fine.”

“Is that ‘I’m fine’ as in ‘sure,’ or ‘I’m fine’ as in ‘no thanks’?”

“It means ‘sure’.”

“That easily?”

If a woman makes a move, I’m not one to refuse. My “Women Luck” is low level; I have to grab opportunities when they arise.

“My fate, if interpreted, is that I have talent but little luck—even if I win a woman, it’s like a mid-day dream. You’ll probably be gone by mid-day anyway.”

“What if I’m not?”

“That’s never happened before.”

Once, I helped a beautiful woman with her relationship issues and we ended up together. But the moment the guy apologized and came back, she dumped me to return to him. When he hurt her again and she came back, I accepted her “physical offensive” but didn’t open my heart. Just as things were getting serious and I was about to give her another chance… she went back to him again. Her actions were terrible, but she gave me good memories, so I forgave her. We actually kept seeing each other until six months before she sent me her wedding invitation.

Because she stayed so long and so intensely, I remember her clearly. But there have been several others like her. After meeting women like this several times, I’ve accepted my Saju regarding women. I attract beautiful women, but I’m always the “Second Pick.” Even if I bind them with physical affection, I remain the back-up. That’s why I’m working on strengthening my Women Luck and Wealth/Partner Luck (Jae-seong-un). I can’t be Second Pick forever.

“I see.”

“You’re the same. A Second Pick.”

“Yeah. Even though you’re a man, it feels like my story.”

We talked for a long time until I got sleepy.

“Rest here today. The rain has let up a bit. I should go.”

“Wait, you aren’t using this room? Why?”

“I have a home. Why would I sleep here? It’s cramped, hot, and humid.”

“I’m a bit scared… could you stay?”

She still had that habit of asking for unreasonable favors. I decided to counter with an even more unreasonable one—one that would raise my Saju Fortification points.

“If we’re not just sleeping, then maybe.”

“Uh…”

“I’m leaving. Lock the door tight.”

“Wait, wait. Just a moment.”

“What?”

“I… I’ll think about it.”

“Then I’ll wait.”

She’d probably spend all night thinking. According to Saju Fortification, being in close proximity to the opposite s*x raises Wealth/Partner Luck, so I decided to stick around and see what she decided. Seeing her face turn bright red, I could guess exactly what she was thinking.

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

“Why are you up all night? I told you to sleep.”

“I… I was thinking for a long time…”

I figured she would. I, on the other hand, had a great sleep. The back room of the clinic is about the size of a tiny dorm room; two people can sleep there, but only if they are pressed against each other. It was humid summer, so I had tried to leave, but she’d clung to me. Realizing she’d made a slip of the tongue, she promised to introduce me to a single friend of hers—some girl whose friend had learned Tarot and Saju and told her she had a “Ghost Gate” (Gwimun-sal).

I let her sleep during the day while I opened for business. Her phone kept buzzing. Because the fan was using the only outlet, she was charging it at my desk. Photos were being sent one after another. It looked serious, so I woke her up.

When Ji-su saw the messages, she lost it and burst into tears.

“What is it?”

I’d already seen the previews. She handed the phone to me. The “Stocking Man” was demanding she “kneel before his wife, apologize, and promise never to approach him again.” He was sending photos—the kind Ji-su had been sending him since high school.

The wording was insidious. He wasn’t saying he’d post them on a public board, but he was using a “softened” tone, saying his wife was furious after seeing this photo and that photo and was demanding an apology. He claimed he didn’t know what his wife might do if she didn’t get one, acting like he was “worried” for her. The intent was clear: ‘Apologize, or I’ll release these.’

“Even if it’s an affair, this is crossing the line. Let’s report him. This isn’t just a threat; it might not even require a victim’s complaint to prosecute. I can do it for you.”

If Ji-su didn’t fight back, the Stocking Man’s claim would stand: Ji-su was a crazy pervert who tried to seduce him with these photos, and he was the poor victim being stalked. I hate going to the police for other people’s business, but I needed a win here.

“No, no! You can’t. You really can’t. Please don’t do that.”

“Why? Are you afraid they’ll be leaked?”

I asked, but I knew that wasn’t it. She was the type who would justify it by thinking, ‘Well, I took them when my body was pretty. I’m confident, let them see.’ She was a “loyal subject,” a “faithful woman” who would never switch sides. In the modern world, that kind of loyalty is seen as irrational and strange. But if a man were to be chosen as the “First Pick” by a woman like this, he’d be the luckiest guy alive—someone who is understood and supported no matter what.

“If you do that, I’ll never see him again. You’re sending him to jail.”

I realized I really had to separate them. I decided to take a gamble. If this didn’t work, I’d kick her out, report it myself, and wash my hands of her.

“That would be for the best.”

“But… what if… what if I wait for him while he’s in prison?”

That was so depressing I almost laughed. What kind of imagination does this girl have?

“I have a really bad feeling about this. Give me that man’s Saju—well, you probably don’t know it, so just give me his birthday.”

“You said you couldn’t read it without the birth time…”

“I can.”

“You didn’t say that to me before.”

“Yeah, because it costs 12 times as much.”

If you don’t know the birth time, you just brute-force it by looking at all 12 possible hours and deducing the most likely one. It’s just a lot of manual labor for the reader.

“Will looking at his Saju show something?”

“Yes. It’s suddenly very dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

I set the stage. I have a “finishing move” I once used to make a woman like her give up. Well, it usually doesn’t work, so maybe I shouldn’t call it a finishing move. It smells heavily of a scam, which I usually avoid, but I had no choice. I said I’d check all 12 variations, but I didn’t need to. I was going to lie anyway.

“Whew…”

“Wh-what is it?”

“Man… it’s 50/50, so I can’t say for sure, but… sigh.”

“Is something wrong?”

I rubbed my forehead as if in deep thought, then let out a heavy sigh.

“He’s going to die young.”

“Pardon…?”

“Do you need an interpretation? Stop meeting him. He’ll die.”

“Who? Me?”

“Not you.”

“Then who…?”

“If you keep hovering around that man, he will die early. So, for his sake… give him up.”

For the record, it was a lie. I had only once seen someone with a Saju similar to that man commit suicide. Out of the dozens of similar charts I’ve seen, it happened exactly once. But I was going to leap from that one instance to a absolute conclusion.

“No way… why is that?”

“You believed everything else I said; why doubt this?”

“Because of me… oppa will die?”

“You’ve already raised his life stress so much that there’s a risk he’ll die even if you stop seeing him. If I met his wife, I’d tell her to get life insurance.”

“But he’s so young!”

As if being young keeps you from dying. In the old books, people with similar charts were said to have short lives—men with lots of “Women Luck” but no “Housing Luck.” I wasn’t going to explain the old texts to convince her, though. I didn’t even believe them. I just used the trust I’d built with Ji-su.

“Have I ever been wrong?”

“Uh…”

I pressured her with a confident, informal tone, then added just a touch of technical jargon. This was pure manipulation.