“Hari itu hari kerja biasa.” Sopir taksi tidak pernah menyatakan topik yang ia sukai, hanya melontarkan pertanyaan. Tapi argometer menjawab untuknya. Ini sudah diduga. Aku dengan cepat dan santai menjawab dengan kalimat berikutnya. “Tapi aku hampir mati di tempat kerja hari ini.” “Hampir jadi barang dagangan segar sendiri saat mencoba membeli daging di toko daging.” “Untungnya, pemilik toko ternyata vegetarian. Aku menukar beberapa hasil bumi dan keluar. Bahkan menang tawar-menawar dan dapat uang tunai.” Ketukan jari sopir di setir melambat. Kecepatan kendaraan menurun. [Lalu apa yang terjadi selanjutnya?] “Aku menuju gang belakang.” ‘Menyelipkan sebanyak mungkin kata kunci yang tepat ke dalam jawabanku.’ Tujuannya adalah mengatakan sesuatu yang menarik minat salah satu dari empat sopir. Strategi yang kusebut ‘Kamu pasti suka setidaknya satu dari topik ini’. Dan beruntungnya, situasiku saat ini secara alami memungkinkan aku memunculkan semua jenis materi sensasional. ‘Lagi pula, enam bulan terakhir penuh dengan petualangan konyol.’ [Pekerjaan apa yang akan kamu lakukan besok?] Topik pembicaraannya tampak tak ada habisnya. “Aku berencana beristirahat dan merenungkan semua yang terjadi. Cukup banyak peristiwa.” Aku terus mengarahkan pembicaraan ke topik yang merangsang dan layak dibahas, apa pun yang ditanyakan sopir taksi. Aku terus menyelipkan mimpi buruk, makanan, darah, kekerasan, hukum rimba, maskot, memasak, ramalan, hantu… Semua melebur mulus ke dalam obrolan santai. Akhirnya, mobil melaju sepelan sepeda. Aku terus bicara tanpa henti, cukup untuk membuat Braun beberapa kali takjub pada kemampuanku mengisi udara. Saat suaraku hampir serak… Taksi berhenti. [Kita sudah sampai di tujuan, ‘Stasiun Seoul’.] Kunci pintu belakang terbuka, dan kaca film turun, memperlihatkan pemandangan yang familiar… Itu adalah pemandangan malam Stasiun Seoul. Aku begitu lega sampai ingin menangis. Meski ingin langsung melompat keluar, aku harus membayar ongkos dulu. Aku melihat argometer. Sopir menghentikan argometer. Kurang dari 30.000 biasanya hanya mungkin untuk perjalanan pendek 10 menit. Tarif setinggi ini berarti tidak ada kerusakan permanen. [Waktunya membayar ongkos.] Sopir taksi mengulurkan satu tangan ke belakang. Di tangan itu ada cek. Aku dengan hati-hati mengambil cek kertas kuno itu, yang distempel lilin dengan bentuk ular… Di belakang cek ada deskripsi kutukan yang akan diterima penumpang. Kode Tarif 1: Penyakit – Tiga hari demam tinggi, sakit kepala, hemoptisis, dan menggigil. ‘Ini sangat bisa diatasi.’ Jauh lebih baik daripada bangkrut parah atau kematian orang-orang di sekitarku. Aku menggenggam cek itu dan memberi sopir hormat dalam sebelum akhirnya keluar dari taksi. Udara musim dingin terasa sangat menyegarkan… Kaca jendela sopir turun separuh. Aku hampir pingsan saat itu juga. [Itu percakapan yang menyenangkan. Kurasa rekan-rekanku juga akan tertarik dengan ceritamu…] Dalam kegelapan, tangan sopir bersarung mengetuk setir dengan ritmis… [Sampai jumpa lagi setelah pensiun. Aku traktir minum nanti.] Para sopir taksi itu terinspirasi dari motif terkenal dan menakutkan. Empat Penunggang Kuda Kiamat. Penaklukan, Perang, Kelaparan, dan Maut—menjadi sopir taksi kiamat harfiah dalam cerita hantu permainan kata yang mencekam ini. Dengan konteks ini, komentar itu cukup membuat tulang punggungku merinding. Tetap saja, aku mengangguk tenang. Tapi Penunggang Kuda Kiamat tidak akan pensiun sampai akhir dunia! Aku sudah lama tiada saat itu. “Aku menantikannya. Semoga sukses dengan giliran kerjamu.” [Hahaha… Benar. Pekerjaan yang melelahkan.] Kaca taksi naik lagi, dan kendaraan hitam itu menghilang dari Stasiun Seoul dalam sekejap, hanya menyisakan afterimage merah dari tanda taksi. Aku menunduk melihat cek negatif di tanganku. Saat itu, cek itu meledak menjadi api, dan aku mulai batuk darah. Demam tinggi dan sakit kepala berdenyut membakar tengkorakku, tapi itu masih tertahankan. Dan di sana, mengawasiku, ada si kadal. Dia juga meneteskan darah dari moncongnya. Bukan pemandangan yang menyenangkan, tapi aku tak bisa menahan menelan ludah berdarah saat bicara. “Um, ini seharusnya sembuh dalam tiga hari. Sepertinya… begitulah aturannya.” “Dan terima kasih karena tidak ikut campur atau mempertanyakanku di taksi tadi. Itu sangat berarti— batuk—” Si kadal menatapku, ekspresinya tak berubah, bahkan saat dia batuk darah. Beberapa saat kemudian. Setelah menunggu hemoptisis mereda, kami memanggil taksi lain untuk kembali ke asrama perusahaan. Meski pikiran naik taksi lagi terasa tidak nyaman, tidak ada insiden lebih lanjut. Selain demam kami yang membara, baik kepala seksi maupun aku selamat sampai rumah. ‘Aku tidak menduga Kapten Tim Lee Jaheon tinggal di gedung asrama yang sama.’ Kami berpisah di depan gedung. Diskusi detail akan kami simpan untuk nanti di kantor. Aku tiba dengan selamat. ‘Bahkan asrama perusahaan bisa terasa seperti rumah.’ Saat membuka pintu, udara hangat dalam ruangan menyambutku seperti pelukan yang menenangkan. Hampir membuatku euforia. Merasa sakit seperti ini, aku hanya ingin lompat ke pancuran air panas dan rebah di tempat tidur, tapi… Ada satu hal lagi yang harus kulakukan. Aku melihat sepasang sepatu di pintu masuk yang bukan milikku. Sepatu pantofel Baek Saheon.
Bab 209
“It was a regular workday.” The driver never explicitly stated their preferred topics, only asking questions. But the meter answered for him. This was expected. I quickly and nonchalantly responded with my next line. “But I almost died on the job today.” “Nearly became fresh produce myself while trying to buy some meat at a butcher shop.” “Fortunately, the shop owner turned out to be a vegetarian. I bartered some produce and got out. Even won the haggling match and got some cash.” The driver’s fingers tapping on the steering wheel slowed. The vehicle’s speed decreased. [And what happened next?] “I headed for the back alley.” ‘Weaving as many correct keywords into my answers as possible.’ The goal was to say something that interested any of the four drivers. A strategy I called ‘You’re bound to like at least one of these topics’. And luckily, my current situation naturally allowed me to bring up all kinds of sensational material. ‘The last six months have been full of ridiculous adventures, after all.’ [What kind of work will you have tomorrow?] The conversation topics seemed endless. “I plan to take a break and reflect on everything that’s happened. It’s been quite eventful.” I kept steering the conversation toward stimulating, talk-worthy topics, no matter what the taxi driver asked. I kept weaving in nightmares, food, blood, violence, survival of the fittest, mascots, cooking, fortune-telling, ghosts… All seamlessly blended into casual conversation. Eventually, the car moved forward as slowly as a bicycle. I kept talking non-stop, enough for Braun to marvel a few times at my ability to fill the air. By the time my voice was nearly hoarse… The taxi came to a stop. [We’ve reached your destination, ‘Seoul Station’.] The lock on the back door released, and the tinted window rolled down, revealing a familiar view… It was the nightscape of Seoul Station. I was so relieved I could cry. Though I wanted to leap out immediately, I first needed to settle the fare. I looked at the meter. The driver stopped the meter. Going under 30,000 was usually only possible for short, 10-minute trips. This level of fare meant there would be no permanent damage. [Time to settle the fare.] The taxi driver extended a hand behind him. In that hand was a cheque. I carefully took the old-fashioned paper cheque, stamped with a wax seal in the shape of a snake… The back of the cheque had a description of the curse the passenger would receive. Fare Code 1 : Illness – Three days of high fever, headache, hemoptysis, and chills. ‘This is totally manageable.’ Far better than disastrous bankruptcy or the death of those around me. I clutched the cheque and gave the driver a deep bow before finally escaping the taxi. The winter air felt unbelievably refreshing… The driver’s side window rolled halfway down. I nearly passed out right then and there. [That was an enjoyable conversation. I think my colleagues would also be interested in your stories…] In the darkness, the driver’s gloved hand tapped rhythmically on the steering wheel… [Let’s meet again after retiring. I’ll buy you a drink then.] The taxi drivers were inspired by a well-known and terrifying motif. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Conquest, War, Famine, and Death—serving as literal doomsday taxi drivers in this eerie wordplay ghost story. Given this context, that comment was enough to send chills down my spine. Still, I nodded calmly. But the Horsemen of the Apocalypse wouldn’t retire until the end of the world! I’d be long gone by then. “I’d look forward to it. Best of luck on your shift.” [Hahaha… Indeed. Tiresome work.] The taxi window rolled up again, and the black vehicle ghosted away from Seoul Station in an instant, leaving only the crimson afterimage of its taxi sign behind. I glanced down at the negative cheque in my hand. At that moment, the cheque burst into flames, and I began coughing up blood. The high fever and pounding headache scorched through my skull, but it was bearable. And there, watching me, was the lizard. He, too, was dripping blood from his snout. Not exactly a pleasant sight, but I couldn’t help swallowing my bloody saliva as I spoke. “Um, this should clear up in three days. That seems to be… how the rule works.” “And thank you for not prying or questioning me back in the taxi. It meant a lot— cough—” The lizard watched me, his expression unchanged, even as he coughed up blood. A little while later. After waiting for the hemoptysis to subside, we called another taxi to return to the company dorms. Though the thought of another taxi ride was unsettling, there were no further incidents. Aside from our raging fevers, both the section chief and I safely made it home. ‘I didn’t expect Squad Leader Lee Jaheon to be living in the same dorm building.’ We parted ways in front of the building. We’d save the detailed discussions for later at the office. I made it back safely. ‘Even a company dorm could feel like home.’ When I opened the door, the warm indoor air greeted me like a comforting embrace. It was almost euphoric. Feeling this ill, I just wanted to jump into a hot shower and crash in bed, but… There was one more thing I had to do. I noticed a pair of shoes in the entryway that weren’t mine. Baek Saheon’s dress shoes.
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