Yokai Come to the Countryside Café

Chapter 1: A Small Escape

– Squeak.

“It got me again.”

The traffic light at this intersection, which I passed every morning and evening on my commute, had never turned green immediately.

Since it was a quiet country road on the outskirts of Namyangju, there really wasn’t a need for such a long red light.

So I spent time here, half-voluntarily.

Fate, Murphy’s law, or maybe some odd traffic pattern I didn’t understand.

It was only about two minutes a day at most. And during that moment, there was always the same view.

【Dangsan-ri Café】

It was written on the aging two‑story brick building. Or, more accurately, “it must have been written.”

The sign had been there so long that all the letters had faded away.

I’d inferred the name from the faint stain that caught the morning sun on my commute.

A café? In this day and age?

This place had narrowly avoided new-town development, and tractors and tillers outnumbered cars on the road. I guessed the only customers were a few locals who dropped by occasionally.

Yet this old café with its faded sign was always wide‑open and still operating.

It was open earlier than me, who stood by that traffic light to dodge the rush hour.

During that brief wait, I liked gazing at the café.

That moment when the morning sun cleared the mist and lit the old café felt like seeing a faded photograph from a distant memory—even though I’d never been inside.

But today, something unfamiliar caught my eye in that usual scene.

『For sale · For rent inquiries』

Huh? They finally put it up?

It was clearly written.

In Korean calligraphy on A4 paper, as if penned by hand.

My overly concerned morning thoughts about it not doing well turned out not to be unfounded.

Yes, it’s inevitable—they won’t make money.

I once saw a YouTube video saying that cafés barely break even even when customers line up.

Let alone in a rural nook like this.

Wait—does that mean today might be the last day…?

I didn’t hesitate long. I quickly opened my phone and hit the call button.

“Hello, Manager. This is Assistant Manager Kim Jin‑sung.”

(“Ah, Assistant Manager Kim. What’s up so early in the morning?”)

“May I take a half‑day off this morning? There’s a café I want to visit, and I think today may be its last day of business.”

(“You’re always oddly honest. You could’ve just said your tire got punctured.”)

“It’s better than getting caught later.”

(“Right, I like how straightforward you are. Go ahead. The project ended the day before yesterday, and you’ve had tough overtime the past few days—rest is due! Come back around 1 p.m. after lunch. I’m hanging up.”)

“Yes, thank you.”

As soon as the call ended, the traffic light turned green.

With official permission to slough off, there was no more reason to hesitate.

I turned the steering wheel sharply, veering off my usual route, and parked behind the café in the empty lot.

Worried it might not be open, I offered a slightly awkward greeting at the entrance.

“Hello—are you open?”

“Huh? How did you get here?”

The middle‑aged man in the doorway looked puzzled, as if it was hard to say I’d come simply to drink coffee.

After a silent moment of just looking at each other,

Snap.

He clicked his fingers as if he’d suddenly understood.

“You’re here to look at the place! Young people really act fast these days. You came to see it before listing apps, huh? Come in!”

His beckoning hand flashed with a thick gold bracelet, enough to make me squint.

My small escape, for which I’d taken a half‑day, ended up worthless.

I had clearly been a step too late.

Usually, rural shops stick around until they sell, so I’d assumed the same would happen here.

“Oh, are you just going to stand there? Come on in.”

“Then I’ll go in—excuse me.”

Though not exactly what the realtor expected, I felt I wouldn’t get another chance, so I stepped inside quickly.

“Take your time looking around. I’ve got a call. Hello? Ah, Manager Baek. Why is your call so hard to catch? Don’t you know missing one call here can ruin your day’s business? Yes? No, no. About that industrial site over in Hopyeong‑dong….”

The realtor seemed glad to get a call and stepped outside again.

That was good.

If he’d hovered over me explaining things like a hawker, my guilt at not actually buying would’ve only grown.

So I walked around the empty café at ease.

An old fabric sofa with a gaudy wave pattern, glossy antique tables, miscellaneous ornaments every café seems to have, and a yellowed Daruma painting.

A space that must’ve held history longer than I’ve lived.

I found the coziest corner seat by the window.

“So this is the seat, finally.”

Sitting here had been a small item on my bucket list.

Park at the intersection and then lounge in this sunlit window seat, killing time.

I’d daydreamed about ordering two cups of coffee and leisurely reading web novels or webtoons all day, especially during those times I got stuck at the red light.

I could’ve come on a weekend, but that wasn’t a burning desire—so it only happened now. No cafe‑style coffee loaded with creamer, but oh well.

But unfortunately, the comfort I felt in the unfamiliar seat was as brief as the moment I used to wait at the traffic light.

“Oh dear, sorry about that. It was an urgent call. So, did you look around a bit? It’s a bit remote, but there’s no better place to live. The second floor is the owner's unit, and the first floor—if you just build a wall outside that window—it becomes a living room and kitchen. Since it’s an old house, changing its use is easy too.”

The over-the-top gold accessories spoke to how seasoned a realtor he was, so I wasn’t swayed by his smooth sales pitch.

More than anything, I was curious about something else.

“Where did the owner go? They were still running the café just yesterday, but now they’re suddenly gone.”

“Huh? Oh right, the old man’s back has gotten bad, so he went to his daughter’s place last night. He always meant to sell the place, and suddenly this morning he told me to put up the flyers because it’d sell quickly. Man, that old guy’s so stubborn.”

Thankfully, it wasn’t the kind of misfortune I had feared.

I mean, what kind of heartless sale would list the place the very next day if the owner had passed away?

“Anyway, did you check out the second floor? It’s fully renovated and amazing. There’s a terrace, so even though the floor space isn’t as large as the first floor, it still reaches over 17 pyeong. These days, you don’t find this layout in older houses. Young folks love doing stuff on rooftops, right? That fire-gazing trend? Whatever it’s called—you can do all of it here.”

The experienced realtor didn’t give me any space to decline politely.

He chattered nonstop as he strode briskly toward the stairs behind the counter and waved me up once again with enthusiasm.

“They already moved the stuff out of the second floor, but I still don’t get why they remodeled it. Look, check this out—the AC and boiler just got installed two weeks ago, the plastic’s still on them. Honestly, you could just walk in and live here as is. Right? Don’t you think?”

He had a habit of slipping into informal speech when excited.

To be fair, it was a house worth getting excited over.

Even for me, having lived alone and shuffled from one monthly-rent room to another, this was the kind of place you’d only find newly built.

If the first floor preserved the marks of time, the living quarters on the second floor could pass for a sleek, fully furnished two-room apartment.

“How much did you say it was?”

“Oh my, look at me forgetting the most important part. The price is 140 million won! No haggling! It’s listed at that exact price.”

140 million won.

I’d asked just to avoid looking like a casual onlooker, but the price that came out was beyond anything I’d imagined.

Just the remodeling must’ve cost over 30 million—yet it’s only 140 million?

There was even a spacious garden plot where I parked my car.

“What do you think? You seem like a sharp fellow, so I’ll tell you—the property is so good I was going to hold onto it and raise the price to 350 million, ha ha. But my money’s all tied up in that redevelopment land, so I’m selling it with blood in my eyes.”

The rest wasn’t worth listening to.

Nothing is as empty as a merchant’s claim that they’re selling at a loss.

But leaving that aside, the house was undeniably appealing.

Even someone like me, practically clueless about real estate, could tell it was absurdly cheap.

But that’s the problem.

Would a savvy realtor wearing that much gold really show such a good deal to someone he’s never met?

I don’t even have spending hobbies, so I could wire the money right now if I wanted to—but this wasn’t the kind of price I could throw out with a “nothing ventured, nothing gained” attitude.

“I’ll think it over and come back.”

“Huh? You’re just leaving? Hey, young man! Boss! Just in case, at least give me a business card! I’ll let you know if any conditions change!”

---

After Jinseong left, the realtor quickly pulled out his phone and called someone as soon as he saw Jinseong’s car disappear.

“Sir, it’s me.”

Answering with the utmost politeness, the man scratched his cheek awkwardly and continued.

“So, the young guy came by, but I’m not sure if he’ll buy it or not.”

(\$^@^^%%@#)

“Ow.”

A sudden loud voice from the other side of the phone made the man flinch and pull his ear away, waving frantically as if to calm down someone he couldn’t see.

“No, no. He didn’t just walk away. He said he’d think about it—but usually that means they’re not coming back. I did my best! I made up all kinds of stories to show it off! Told you I’d just buy it myself. What? Lower the price to 100 million? What kind of—hello? Hello?”

Staring blankly at the home screen of his phone, now clearly disconnected, the man muttered the words he couldn’t say earlier.

“Unbelievable. In all my years, I’ve never seen a seller knock off 40 million for someone they already chose. If you’re just going to throw it away at 100 million, sell it to me, sheesh.”

– Tap. Tap. Tap.

Pecking out a text with thick fingers like pot lids, the man gazed longingly down the path Jinseong had taken. Waiting for a reply that might never come.

And how much time passed?

– Ding.

『I’ll buy it.』

“That’s more like it! Wait, hold on. Should I really be happy about this? If it didn’t sell, it would’ve been mine! Dammit!”