Pebble Meets Jemulpo Puppy
“Excuse me. Could I ask you something?”
“Y-yes? M-me?”
A man of completely unknown identity had suddenly spoken to her. Ji-eum glanced around the plaza with frightened eyes.
Who is this guy, and when on earth is Jemulpo Puppy supposed to get here? He said he’d be right over, so why isn’t he coming? Don’t tell me I’ve been catfished… I knew I shouldn’t have tried something I never do. I never should’ve come out…
“Never mind. I must have the wrong person. Sorry.”
“Ah, okay.”
“Huh, weird…”
The man tilted his head, muttering to himself, then took a single step back. She fully expected him to move on to the next person, yet he stayed right where he was.
Why isn’t he leaving?
Standing there blankly, the man seemed to ponder for a moment before pulling a phone from his pocket and tapping away with quick fingers.
Thump-thump~♡♪♬
At the exact same instant, the Thumping Planet app alarm chimed from Ji-eum’s back pocket.
“…….”
She slowly lifted her head and met the man’s gaze. Pushing his cheek out with his tongue, he kept his eyes locked on her while his fingers flew across the screen.
Thump-thump~♡♪♬
“……?”
Coincidence? Or…
Ji-eum slowly drew her phone from her pocket. Two Thumping Planet messages were waiting.
Her eyes drifted naturally from the screen back to the man. Flushed and focused, he was still typing away.
Thump-thump~♡♪♬
Thump-thump~♡♪♬
Her half-doubting brain finally rang with a clear ding. Before the shock could even fade, a dark shadow fell across her phone screen.
“You’re Pebble, right? Ha, almost walked right past you.”
The voice was deep, strong, and completely unrestrained. Ji-eum slowly raised her head.
“…….”
She locked eyes with the enormous man staring straight down at her. She’d sensed it from a distance, but up close his features looked even rougher. Handsome or not, he gave off the unmistakable vibe of someone who’d never once backed down from a fight in his life.
“Yeah. I’m Jemulpo Puppy. Nice to meet you?”
Even with people glancing their way, the man didn’t so much as blink as he boldly announced his username.
“Uh, y-yes…. H-hello.”
“What. You dropped the formalities just fine on Thumping Planet, so what’s with the ‘yes’?”
“Well, still… you seem older…”
“I’m younger than I look. Twenty-five.”
Huk. Same age? I figured he was at least two or three years older. Ji-eum flinched in surprise and blinked her large eyes.
“You?”
“Me? I’m twenty-five too, but…”
She had no choice but to reveal they were the same age. A sudden sense of caution flashed through her mind—she’d blurted out her age, but absolutely nothing else could slip out.
“Twenty-five? What. I thought you were younger. Same age, then. Just talk casually.”
How am I supposed to talk casually? Age wasn’t even the real problem. The Jemulpo Puppy she’d pictured while chatting had been an ordinary guy her own age. She’d never dreamed he’d turn out to be this massive, thuggish-looking man. His clothes, his looks—everything about him was so overwhelming she felt like she might die. Ugh, what do I do? Ji-eum clenched and unclenched her damp fists from the tension.
“Let’s go. I’ve got Bupyeong locked down, so just trust me here.”
Trust you with what?
“Um…”
It was simply too much. She decided to just say she was going home. The moment she steeled herself and opened her mouth—
“What.”
The man who’d been about to take a step raised his left eyebrow. Faced with that fierce expression, the terrified Ji-eum swallowed the words that had risen all the way to her throat.
In that instant, a thought suddenly struck her.
Even if I go home right now, what changes?
Lee Ji-eum, you’ll just be alone again. You’ve been alone this whole time and it got so hard you came out here. You came all the way to Incheon because you wanted a change of mood.
“What were you about to say, rolling your eyes around like that?”
The man stepped even closer, as if trying to read her mind. With every step, the thick muscles of his chest shifted under his shirt like they might burst the seams.
Huk… Ji-eum hastily averted her gaze and barely managed to speak.
“…Nothing. I don’t know Bupyeong well, so… please take care of me.”
“Yeah? And here I thought you were about to bail.”
Is he a mind reader? How did he know… Looking thoroughly pleased, the man let out two short laughs—pik, pshik—then shoved one hand into his pants pocket and jerked his chin.
“Stick close and follow me, then.”
Otherwise she might get lost, he added, striding off toward the maze-like underground shopping arcade. She had no idea how anyone could get lost in an underground mall, but she hurried after him with quick little steps anyway.
The man, who felt easily three or four times her size, occasionally glanced back to check that she was keeping up, locking eyes with her. His gaze was so intense it looked like he might devour someone.
“Don’t walk behind me. Come up beside me.”
“Uh, I’m fine back here…”
“Trailing after me like that makes you look exactly like Ggomi. I’ll match your stride, so get up here.”
What’s Ggomi…? More importantly, the blunt way he tossed out words was the spitting image of his Thumping Planet self. When he was still, his rough features looked scary, but when he was in a good mood he grinned so brightly it was as if a string of “hahaha” floated above his head. He clearly wasn’t the type to hide his feelings.
Gradually piecing together more about Jemulpo Puppy, Ji-eum followed him out of the Bupyeong Station underground arcade. Outside, the midwinter wind cut between their collars, yet the streets were bustling—probably because it was still break.
“Let’s see…”
The man didn’t move right away. With a thoughtful look he stared hard at a sign that read “Culture Street.”
What’s he doing…
“We can just go anywhere…”
“There’s a course. Just follow me for now.”
Will it be okay? Nothing weird will happen, right? Yeah… it’ll be fine. Ji-eum tugged her scarf up to her chin and walked alongside him.
“Huh? Hang on…”
Ji-eum suddenly stopped talking and rummaged through her bag zipper.
“Ah, why’d you trail off like that? So what happened next?”
“Hold still. You spilled coffee on your department jacket.”
“Whoa, for real? Where?”
While Na-hee looked down searching for the coffee stain, Ji-eum dug a wet wipe out of her heavy bag and handed it over. Even after vigorous scrubbing the mark wouldn’t come clean, so she pulled out the foot cleanser she used as an all-purpose cleaner. Pssht…! She sprayed a suitable amount and wiped with the tissue; the coffee stain vanished without a trace.
“Thanks…. But how much stuff do you even keep in that bag? It amazes me every time.”
“This is just the basic kit.”
Ji-eum answered as she tucked the foot cleanser back into the bag. For her, the Peddler Bag stuffed with everything imaginable was an absolute essential. An umbrella for sudden showers, every kind of emergency medicine for unexpected situations, even a knee blanket she might need someday. As long as she had the bag, she felt as secure as if she had an all-purpose problem-solver right beside her.
She even pulled out a mini dryer that could dry the damp spot, only to be turned down by Na-hee. Looking a little sheepish, Ji-eum sipped her yuzu tea and glanced around the café.
The campus café was packed in the first week of the new semester. That distinctive early-term excitement filled the air.
Everyone else was laughing and chatting in clothes that felt out of season—probably brand-new purchases right before classes started—but Ji-eum and Na-hee sat in a quiet corner with blank expressions, adjusting their three-year-old department jackets. That was what being upperclassmen meant. Worrying about how they’d make a living had already thrown any excitement about campus life to the dogs.
This semester, too, Ji-eum had matched her schedule with Park Na-hee, her only friend besides Seung-jo. They’d signed up for the same major classes and even the same elective—Body and Art—and had just finished the first session of that very lecture before coming to the café.
The class had been… truly bizarre.
“Ahem. From now on, each class will proceed with you expressing the theme I present using your bodies.”
The lecture hall had immediately begun to buzz. One student raised a hand high.
“Professor, what exactly do you mean by expressing with our bodies?”
The professor squinted at the monitor through his reading glasses, clicked a few times, and played a video from last semester’s class. On screen, students were performing group pantomime according to that day’s theme. The moment the video started, the sound of bag zippers filled the room and people began leaving one by one. Ji-eum and Na-hee exchanged a look, then bolted from the lecture hall just as fast.
The second they reached the café they opened their laptops, frantically dropped Body and Art, and barely managed to snag the last two spots in Practical Investment and Risk Management. They’d come within a hair of wrecking the entire semester. They knew nothing about investing either, but anything had to be better than pantomime.