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“Dim loneliness came imperceivable into the fields and he turned back. The birds piped oddly; some wind was caressing the higher foliage, turning it all one way, the way home. Telegraph poles ahead looked like half-used pencils; the small cross on the steeple glittered with a sharp and shapely permanence.”
In the words used, in a stray novel he had had to read years ago and somehow stuck to his mind like an omen, Han Juwon found in hindsight Manyang, a town which, despite the passage of time, despite all that wounded it, stood in an exact image of how he had first found it: quiet, and always slightly odd in its calm. But what had been unsettling now only seemed like the faded and tired truth of a place deserted by those with means to embellish it, and what was suspicious then was now only people, proving an old author wrong, or moreso proving that each experience was different, for loneliness was hardly what Juwon ended up finding in Manyang.
Rather he found people, whose routines maintained regardless of the little changes that nipped at them, gathering as they once did, even when their numbers were diminished by the ravages of grief and conspiracy.
It had taken a while to feel worthy of coming back, to a group that had nothing to give him but open arms. But time went, and as if he had never left, as if he had been there since the town sprouted from the ground, he now fitted back in its practiced consistency, taking one of the many leftover spots of shared dinners to which the crowd had been cut in half by tragedies that were now scabbed over, begging only to not be scratched back so they could cicatrize in due time.
It was even comfortable, to have a place to belong, to have people to fall back to, to share moments with. He was adjusted by now, to the warmth that he used to avoid, to help offered without expecting anything in return, to hands he could hold onto.
Still, some things he could never adjust to.
The liveliness of the group was one.
“Jihwa used to beat my ass so bad at this game, I’d cry all afternoon.”
“How cruel, he was so much younger than you…”
“And? Taught him to be tougher.”
The two siblings had brought a piece of antique, or what looked like one from how dusty and browned out the box was, and offered to liven up the night with a ridiculous game of Monopoly. To Juwon’s exasperation, the agreement was unanimous, and soon they were picking pawns, and behaving like primary school kids fighting over the better looking ones.
His memories of the game weren’t exactly fond, experience had come from insistence of teachers overseas that boardgames were the most perfect intellectual group leisure activity, not taking into account the chaos they were unleashing when handing it over to a bunch of elite teenage boys whose competitive age was only matched by the ambition expensive boarding schools tried to tailor them into.
Needless to say, with his own disposition, the bounds he found made through the game weren’t exactly of a friendly nature.
But under the enthusiasm of the group, he kept his reserves buried, so deep in fact that they couldn’t hold back his own habits, the very one he feared would ruin the night when it came to the game’s consequences:
The plan he had devised to win was flawless.
The first round around the board was decisive, because in the pursuit of fun, most players at the table just went and purchased tiles, in quantity, ready to broaden their estate. In doing so, regardless of luck, they dug themselves into a pit of poverty unable to match his own careful savings. Thus, as soon as someone would land on an expensive one, not only would they not have the funds to get it, but no one at the table would be able to outbid him. In a few rounds of meticulous tracking of everyone’s bank account, of the board’s state, and of everyone’s positions and potential landings, as well as compulsive savings for only the worthy districts to be his, he’d own the most valuable areas of the board, its last quarter, and from then he’d only have to stack up estate and enjoy a steady massive cash influx everytime someone would have the misfortune of visiting him.
And it seemed to be working just fine, especially since the other players seemed to prioritise the thrill of ridiculous biddings over the most inconsequential tiles, in a twisted definition of fun that was of no long term profitability. Everyone’s balance was well grazed, and he steadily was, failing to be a landowner, the player with the largest readily available finances.
The plan set to true motions when at long last, Oh Jihun landed on nothing else than the most prized tile of the game, sending sparks into Juwon’s eyes, as he knew all too well that right here and then, Gangnam was his.
“Awe, I’m short of 100…” the young man complained after a glance between the enticing blue band and the messy stack of paper bills in his hands.
“As usual,” Oh Jihwa said, “you’re not saving up enough.”
“I only bought Incheon! I didn’t think I’d land on this one right after!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have put over a thousand bucks just on Incheon.”
“I really wanted it though…”
“Life is hard when you’ve got such a lucky hand.” Yoo Jaeyi said, counting her own bills.
“Should we start the auctions on Gangnam then?” Han Juwon said, keeping all elation away from his tone, but likely not as well as he thought he did, as it escaped no one that he was overjoyed by the turn of events, ready to take hold of the most expensive tile and never let it go.
“Wait, that’s just too sad.” Yoo Jaeyi cut, “Jihun, I can loan you what you’re missing.”
“What? You can’t do that.” Han Juwon immediately cut.
“Why not? Loans are a central mechanic of the economy. I’ll put a 1% interest per round.”
“I don’t think loans are allowed between players, according to the game's rulebook.”
“Well then, since Monopoly nerds won’t let us have fun for the sake of the rules'' Lee Dongsik, seemingly still informed on where to stab Juwon where it hurt the most, said “I’ll just give Oh Jihun 100 bucks for free, that’s not against the rules now, is it? For the sake of our good old partner days.”
“Thank you!” Oh Jihun beamed, immediately exchanging the bill he passed over for the coveted blue card.
Han Juwon was left with his mouth gaping in horror at the foul play that had unraveled, tearing his careful calculations to pieces. With a tile from both the blue and yellow zone in Oh Jihun’s possession, he was left in a tight spot, with only the green area left entirely untouched. Naturally, he could always attempt to buy back from Oh Jihun, but that left the man with incredible leverage against him. It was too big of a liability, and he doubted the land would be handed over, even if he obtained Myeongdong, reducing Gangnam’s power by cutting its supply of housing and thus its rent: Oh Jihun didn’t seem to be playing the game strategically enough to care about such things, thrilled to just have the card with the highest core value.
“Hey there, take it easy Han Juwon,” Yoo Jaeyi said, “it’s just Monopoly.”
It was not just Monopoly, it was one of the greatest humiliations he had endured, it was a disregard for the laws of the game in favour of his torment, and he could tell it was all on purpose that these events transpired. For his dismay.
“I mean, I’d be pretty livid too.” Oh Jihwa said, “There’s not much property left and he bought none so far. That’s a tight spot.”
“Well, he can only blame himself for that.”
He bit down on his cheeks to not protest. He was calm. This had no effect on him. It was merely a silly board game he did not wish to play in the first place. He still had plenty of money, he observed, eyes running over his accumulated savings, he could make it out.
“Ah! Sinchon!” Yoo Jaeyi exclaimed as she landed on the tile “Well, don’t mind if I do!”
His frustration was noticed, and so was he notified by the giggles in response to his offended frown now that the green area also had a bite taken out of.
“My, he’s going to pass out.” Oh Jihwa said.
“He’ll be fine. He’s used to it.” Lee Dongsik waved a dismissal.
Would it be childish to quit the game now, after all it was only a logical outcome that he’d lose now, so should he forfeit as his demise was foreseeable anyways?
“Hey, tell you what,” Lee Dongsik stopped the relentless tension of his jaw with a little tap on his wrist, taking his attention away from the useless cash he held onto “I’m feeling extra generous, let me give you my most prized possession.”
He handed him over a property card. Which stared at him in mockery as he flipped it around.
“What good will Seogwipo do for my finances?”
“Manyang.” the table corrected him.
“Can’t you see the taped post it note. It’s Manyang.” Yoo Jaeyi pointed at the board.
“Have a bit of respect for our dear town.” Lee Dongsik said “She may not look like much, but she’s full of surprises.”
That, he knew of.
“Are you sure you’re not cursing him?” Oh Jihwa asked, “Our beloved is quite the opposite of an omen of prosperity.”
“It’s quite a stable town, though, all things considered.” Oh Jihun said.
“That’s right. What other town would still be standing after the things that happened here?” Lee Dongsik said, “Make good use of her, Inspector.”
Juwon could have rolled his eyes. At least there was safety in having a piece of land on his chunk of the table. He could always sell it back later, since the others seemed to play with sentimentality and humour rather than strategy.
“I guess it’ll have to do for now.”
“God, he plays so seriously.” Oh Jihwa laughed, “It’s not a life or death situation, we didn’t even pick penalties for losing.”
“Maybe we should, though.” Oh Jihun said. “You guys always make me do dances when I lose at games.”
“True. We should be fair and keep this implemented.” Yoo Jaeyi said, “But don’t regret it if you lose again.”
“I won’t, I have Gangnam.”
“Then search through your dusty memory for one anyone could do, even us elderly, or Han Juwon and his whole thing.” Oh Jihwa said, firing bullets at the aforementioned’s attention.
“What thing?”
“You know, the whole…” she stuck her arms stiffly around herself.
He frowned.
Oh Jihun could conjure whatever ridiculous dance he had memorised, he wouldn’t have to worry about it anyways, he reasoned. This rough start meant nothing, he just needed a burst of luck to get out of his predicament.
But the fates were hardly in his favour, or most likely the tables played in an agreement to run his nerves into a bundle, making sure to ceade no piece of land to him, and it quickly felt like they weren’t five players, but one against a merged four headed and four walleted entity formed out of malice by the others.
In an horrifying, unprecedented turn of events, he saw himself come close to bankruptcy. He has a thought for his previous games, and the infamy it would have brought upon his entire bloodline back in his boarding school days. He was way more mature than back then though, and he limited himself to only silently biting down on his lip, trying to conjure the probabilities of losing at his next roll. 4 of the 6 possible tiles he could land on were enemy territory. One was a chance card and could bring as much misfortune. Free Parking would only delay his shame. He had to rely on too much sheer luck given the disposition the night had granted him when it came to that.
“Oh my, someone’s in a predicament.” Jaeyi nodded at his tight finances.
“I’m fine.”
“Oh, that sounds a lot like incoming bankruptcy.” Oh Jihwa said, “Jihun, what did you pick for punishment already?”
“I’m not going bankrupt yet.”
“Sure hope this chance card isn’t tax then. Because unless it’s the lottery I don’t know how you’ll get out of it alive.”
“He can always try to sell Manyang. Not sure who would want it though.” Jaeyi said.
“Wasn’t it Dongsik’s gift too? We can’t accept the offer, it’s disrespectful.” Jihun said.
“I don’t intend to sell it anyways.”
It was a matter of pride.
And also, as Jihun said, it was a gift. It’d be improper to let go of it. Mostly, he knew Dongsik would not miss out on taking the offense, if it could be called on, to then torment him days and night, at any opportunity, at any need, calling up the memories of that time he sold Manyang after he so generously sacrificed it for him. Juwon would not give him the pleasure, not even the mere possibility, the simple consideration of it. He’d hold onto Manyang for dear life, even if it led him to his death.
“What about an alliance?”
He whisked his head around at the suggestion, meeting Lee Dongsik’s eyes.
“What kind of alliance?”
“A business partnership. We unite our properties and share the rents.”
“You guys are playing capitalism a little too realistically.” Yoo Jaeyi said.
“We weren’t even allowed to do private loans earlier...”
“It’s only fair. After all, it was when we broke the rules earlier to let Jihun get Gangnam that we propelled this lad into poordom.”
“Maybe he’d end up poor even with Gangnam though, you don’t know.” Oh Jihwa said. “Don’t let favoritism get the best of you.”
"Favoritism? For this guy?” he scoffed “It’s just good business to me. He has Manyang, I have Jeju, and he said he wouldn’t sell his half. How else would I build houses?”
“It’d be heartwarming to see Manyang finally get redeveloped, indeed.” Jihun said.
“It’d be heartbreaking to be robbed of the blackmail material of Han Juwon’s loss.” Yoo Jae Yi said.
“I’ll consider the offer.” Juwon said, despite knowing he would in 80 percent of the outcomes of his roll, just to maintain a semblance of dignity.
“Should we form an alliance of three then?” Oh Jihwa said “To balance things out?”
“Can it be balanced if they play as a team…” Jihun mumbled.
“Don’t say that,” Jihwa scolded “We have most of the expensive tiles. Their big brains can’t compare to the power of big money.”
When his next roll came, the alliance formed, to the surprise of no one. What he survived in the game, he lost at Jihwa’s mockery of the arrangement.
“Just like in the good old days. Marriage for property. Just as was intended by nature.”
The wits that came from this town were truly lethal, Juwon found, in the way her simple choice of word forced him to take an already quenched gulp of water in a desperate attempt to mask any sort of silly reaction.
“Oh my,” Lee Dongsik held a protesting hand of fake offense to his face, “I would never stoop so low for profit. This is an union of love.”
There was no side from which violence did not blow, Juwon at least thanked the universe for allowing him to not let his flinch push the water down the wrong pipe. A coughing fit was the last thing he needed at the moment.
“You said you wanted Manyang.” he said, putting all the focus in the world on setting his cup down, making the motion nearly unnatural but at least saving his face from betraying any affect.
“Indeed. It’s for my love of Manyang that I’m offering this partnership.” he said, before putting on his most infuriating smile and leaning forward, all too tempted by the opportunity that had been carved open for him to slide into “Why, who else did you assume I meant?”
“I did not assume anything.” he said, lies betrayed by the curtness of his tone “It just seems disingenuous to pretend it wasn’t the profit of the estate that lured you in.”
“Many things can be true at once, Inspector. Profit was a thing that lured me, but so was your poor little sad face.”
Juwon frowned, ready to quip back, but the other side of the table rumbled under the echoes of the groans of the rival team.
“If that’s your winning strategy, it’s working, I’d rather forfeit than an entire night of this.” Jaeyi said, setting her money down in demonstration.
“Not even one night without this…” Jihun whined.
“Flirting with buildings...This brings back bad memories, I got shivers.”
“Flirting?” Juwon said, outrage saving him from the chokehold of flusters.
This had been anything but flirting. This had been a fight for pride.
With the time behind himself, and the one spent discovering there was a comfort in finding home within someone, he wasn’t even offended at the suggestion itself, but at the thought that this was what they perceived what his attempt at flirting with Lee Dongsik would be, their inability to recognise nuance from an actual debacle.
He scoffed in offense when the only answer his protest got was a dubious raised eyebrow.
“Why would I use estate for that? Who do you take me for?”
At least it seemed the outrage was shared.
“I mean, you could. You have three houses. That’s gotta weigh for something in the balance of ideal bachelors.” Jihun shrugged.
“I’m pretty sure jail time disqualifies me from ‘ideal bachelors’”
“Why are we even talking about his eligibility as a bachelor? This is Monopoly.” Juwon said.
“I have to agree.” Yoo Jaeyi said, “As fun of a conversation topic, we have more pressing matters at hand.”
She nodded towards the board, and Juwon followed her gesture in insistence.
It was an off topic discussion, not to mention fruitless, Lee Dongsik’s status as a bachelor was irrelevant in the scope of his demonstrated lack of interest in relationships that’d lead to marriage anyways, in the present circumstances at least. Or, as much as he could tell of such interests from the ways behaviours between them had evolved as of late, in developments that took thrills to every sense of the word.
It was bold to even install it into the conversation, when the entire table knew for a fact they’d be walking home together once the game ended, as they always did, because out of all their contradictions of illogicality, owning four residencies combined but only using a shared one and only seemed to be their favourite. But he supposed none of them took the conversation seriously anyway, only he was still pondering on it long after the box had been packed up, and he was indeed walking the way home side by side with Lee Dongsik.
“Ah,” he was cut off from his worries by Lee Dongsik, “We forgot the punishment.”
Juwon thought he couldn't care less about the punishment being enacted, in that it was clearly one built only for him to perform in the first place, but in a quick glance he could tell that fact was well known for both of them, and that Dongsik’s sudden burst of realisation of its abandonment was only a way to pry him out of the thoughts that must have been transparently tearing at his brain. He was only avoiding protests of denial by taking him out in such ways instead of blatantly asking what was wrong. Somehow this usual, but not less comforting level of understanding warmed him up, making some of his overthinking fly away in the heat, carried by the vapours of better thoughts until they were stuck on the roof of his skull, mashed unrecognisable like squashed mosquitoes.
“I didn’t want to see it anyways.”
“Why not? Jihun still got some moves.”
“I don’t care to see a punishment enacted solely as a result of cheating.”
“What do you mean,” Lee Dongsik smiled knowingly, stepping askew to close distance between them, the way he did to further irritation within Juwon “the alliances? Is it really cheating once everyone does it?”
“I mean your sleight of hand with the bank.”
Dongsik laughed after a beat in which he let his smile creep up further. Juwon made sure to keep his own down, despite the screams from his heart to mirror it.
“You noticed but did nothing though, so aren’t you an accomplice? It did benefit you, was there some conflict of interest there? It’s ok, I won’t say a peep, so you can arrest me for this terrible embezzlement now.”
It suddenly was much easier to keep his lips down in their neutral frown.
“That’s not something to joke about.”
The thought of arrest and Lee Dongsik in the same sentence still was a scratch, a scab too fresh, which by all means was a bit ridiculous considering he wasn’t the one who had had to go through jail following the event. Nevertheless, he wasn’t as keen on joking about regretful memories as Dongsik seemed to be.
“Oh my,” Dongsik murmured, taking in the sight of Juwon’s frown and the death of pleasant banter behind it. “One could think you were the one getting arrested back then.”
“It’s just not a good memory to me.”
“Why? Embarrassed?”
Guilty was more like it. But that was a conversation that reached no end, one he didn’t need to spark alive tonight.
He just turned his head forward, to the road ahead, and the gate of Dongsik’s house up the hill, in the distance. He’d let himself and Dongsik pretend this was only pride over shed tears.
A few steps of damp silence later, his shoulder was bumped by another, and he knew it was a wordless apology, and a wordless gesture of comfort, of assured presence at his side.
“Next time we should play with Dosu. He’s surprisingly a sticker to the rules when it comes to board games. So maybe you'll win with his support in the holiness of the rulebook.”
“I don’t expect less if no foul play is involved.” he scoffed. “But then the game will hardly span the entire night, I’m not certain you guys would enjoy your entertainment to be so brief.”
He was pleased to see Lee Dongsik’s lips once again stretch in a grin following his words, and the bragging behind them, supported by no empirical evidence as far as the players of tonight were aware.
“My, and this is the guy who didn’t want to play…”
“Being forced to play and being forced to lose are two different offenses. I take one with much more gravity than the other.”
He may have lost on the board that night, but the amounts of small laughs he got seemed to point out his luck just resided in another game than Monopoly. It was no surprise though, as there was little luck involved in these doings, no dice throwing, no cards bearing potentially terrible news depending on where they ended shuffled at, only his well honed knowledge that there seemed to be nothing more humourous to Lee Dongsik than his stiff serious statements.
He thought about Oh Jihwa’s earlier scandalous one.
It really was a foolish suggestion. Why would one need estate when the easiest charm was abrasion? Maybe she simply misinterpreted her own regrettable past fling, after all it seemed her most detested mistake possessed both, the confusion would have been an easy out from the admission that detestable personalities had an enticement of their own.
Luckily for him, that specific denial wasn’t one that Lee Dongsik seemed vehement to uphold, so much was evident in the leftover fondness that subsided to amusement after his laughter. Even though, in the end, it didn’t matter so much, they were equally bountiful in both estate and unpleasantries.
Maybe that was how they turned the table at tonight’s game. They just united into the perfect combination of assets needed for it.
Was it foolish to feel giddy about Monopoly complementarity as a good omen for a relationship? Possibly.
But foolishness had become quite an easy thing to adjust to after all, one both needed and craved for as soon as he accepted his longing for the odd piping of birds, the caress of the wind into high foliage, the tired if not unsettling silence of Manyang and its resident.
“When shall we play again, then?”
Just as the town’s quiet, and its card that bore surprises of wealth, the gentle tone of laughter he got in answer stayed unchanged, in the pleasant soothing it bestowed.