Even a Lonely Squirrel Has Its Burrow - Chapter 3

As Ryu Beomju had mentioned, a lawyer knocked on the front gate two days later. Garam let him inside. The man, with narrow, slanted eyes and a rather sly-looking impression, seemed more like a con artist than a lawyer. However, after confirming the lawyer’s credentials, Garam eased his guard somewhat. His grandmother had always taught him not to judge people by their appearance.

“Please sign here.”

“Oh, okay.”

Garam took the document the lawyer handed over. The papers were filled with difficult legal jargon, and the lawyer didn’t offer much explanation. However, he didn’t rush Garam as he slowly read through the document either. Garam carefully reviewed the papers and, after confirming that nothing seemed off, signed his name.

He worried that he might have missed something suspicious. But having verified that the man was indeed a lawyer and finding no major issues in the documents, it was difficult to suspect him without reason.

After some hesitation, Garam handed the signed papers back to the lawyer seated across from him. The lawyer checked to ensure all signatures were in place, then stood up. Garam followed suit, rising hesitantly.

“The process will be completed soon. You don’t need to worry about anything else, Mr. Kang Garam. In a short while, you’ll receive the documents confirming the property transfer, so all you need to do is check them.”

“Yes, thank you.”

After the lawyer left, Garam finally relaxed his tense body.

Not long after, just as the lawyer had said, Garam held in his hands the official documents proving the house was now his. Hugging them tightly, he shed a few tears, overwhelmed by the relief of having truly preserved his memories with his grandmother.

—

Although he now had the documents, Garam suffered from lingering anxiety for some time. His grandmother had always said Ryu Beomju had a narrow, cat-like temperament, and Garam couldn’t shake the thought that there might have been some trickery in the documents.

Night after night, Garam tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep easily. At the time, he had signed the papers without hesitation, driven by the need to protect the house. But in hindsight, his unease caught up with him, and he regretted his actions. Yet, what was done was done, and even if he discovered any deception now, there was nothing he could change.

Thankfully, no one came looking for him even a month later. Was it really true that, as Ryu Beomju had claimed, ten billion won was nothing to him? Though his unease hadn’t entirely disappeared, recalling those words allowed Garam to feel somewhat reassured.

Facing his grandmother’s sudden death and the subsequent anxiety had consumed him, and by the time he realized it, autumn had long since passed. At the start of winter, in the final year of his teens, Garam came to accept that he was now truly alone.

“Ha…”

The snow-covered garden, all white, felt even lonelier and colder. He vaguely remembered hearing that it would snow again today, and perhaps that’s why the wind felt particularly biting. His sigh dissolved into the cold air as a white puff and vanished.

Acknowledging that he was completely alone made the wind feel even colder. Garam pulled up the collar of his coat.

“Ugh, it’s freezing…”

Being a small squirrel, Garam had always hated the cold since he was young. Wild squirrels busily prepared for winter and hibernated through its harshness. While Garam, as a half-human, didn’t need to hibernate, winter always seemed to dampen his mood and made getting up in the morning feel harder.

Every winter, his grandmother used to prepare warm tea and wait for him to come home. But now, there was no warm tea and no grandmother. Remembering that brought tears to his eyes, and Garam sniffled as he stepped back inside the house.

Winter break would start soon. After that, he’d become an adult and would need to start earning his living expenses.

Thanks to the house Ryu Beomju had given him, Garam wouldn’t be in an entirely desperate situation, but he would still need to work diligently to sustain himself.

Of course, selling the house would make life much easier. But Garam would never do that. To him, this house held more than just memories of his grandmother—it was worth far more than its material value.

For Garam, who had been adrift with nowhere to go, his grandmother had become his precious family. The house was the only connection to her he had left. Selling it was never an option.

His mind worked quickly. Fortunately, he had studied hard, earning a scholarship to the university of his choice. It was a relief to save on tuition, which wasn’t a small amount.

His homeroom teacher, aware of Garam’s circumstances, had called him aside recently to provide information he might need moving forward. She explained various scholarships he could apply for beyond his academic scholarship and shared other tips for managing his life. As she spoke, she patted his shoulder reassuringly.

“Garam, I’ve always believed you’d do well.”

Those words were a great comfort to Garam. He promised himself he wouldn’t disappoint her. Though her encouragement had helped, Garam believed he could take care of himself—just as his grandmother had always said.

“There’s an old saying: Even a squirrel has its own den.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that even a little squirrel like you has a place of its own somewhere.”

His grandmother would say this while playfully tickling his nose, making young Garam burst into laughter. Later, when Garam grew older and looked it up, he realized the meaning was slightly different. But he decided to take it positively, as his grandmother had taught him.

As Garam reminisced, a faint smile appeared on his lips. For some reason, he felt that everything would work out.

—

After graduating high school and turning twenty, Garam’s days became a whirlwind. Maintaining his grades to keep his scholarship and earning his living expenses through part-time jobs were far from easy tasks.

Though there were times when Garam felt exhausted and wanted to cry, he always thought of his grandmother and homeroom teacher. Knowing there were people who believed he could do well no matter where he was gave Garam the strength to grit his teeth and rise again during tough times.

Fortunately, Garam quickly adapted to his new life. Before long, balancing part-time jobs, studying, and getting along with his peers no longer felt like such a challenge.

At twenty-one, Garam believed his life would continue to flow like this. At least, he thought so until the day of that incident.

That day was the day after Garam’s birthday.

The previous evening, he had enjoyed a delightful dinner with his close peers and spent a pleasant time celebrating. Now, on a rare day off, he was enjoying the quiet. After cleaning every corner of the house that he had neglected, Garam was preparing a meal when the doorbell began to ring.

Ding-dong.

Standing in the kitchen, Garam tilted his head curiously and walked to the intercom. Through the camera at the front gate, he saw several men standing outside. There weren’t just one or two but about three or four. They looked rough, dressed in a way that made it obvious they were up to no good.

The sight of them froze Garam in place. His pupils began to tremble as he stared blankly at the bluish screen.

He had no idea who they were or why they had come, but an ominous feeling sent a chill through Garam’s body.

Ding-dong. Ding-dong.

When no response came from inside, the men at the gate pressed the doorbell impatiently. Garam swallowed nervously before finally pressing the button, his voice trembling as he addressed the suspicious visitors.

“Who… who are you?”

“Who we are isn’t important. We’re here for a reason, so just open the door!”

The rough voice made Garam’s hands start to shake. But he couldn’t just open the door without knowing who they were. In a trembling voice, he responded.

“I… I don’t know who you are, so I can’t open the door….”

“Don’t be difficult. We’re here to collect money, so open up!”

“Money?”

Garam repeated blankly. Money? He had never borrowed money from anyone. And then, belatedly, a moment from his past—buried deep in his fears and one he had desperately wanted to undo—surfaced in his mind.

As soon as he remembered it, the man outside pulled a piece of paper from inside his jacket.

“You see this? It’s signed by someone named Kang Garam. That’s you, isn’t it?”

“……”

The fear Garam thought had been resolved and put to rest had suddenly reappeared in front of him after all this time.

“Look, we’re just here to collect what’s rightfully ours. Let’s talk this out while we’re still being polite, alright?”

In the end, Garam had only one choice. With trembling fingers, he pressed the button, and the men entered through the now-open gate. His legs felt weak, as though he might collapse at any moment, but Garam barely managed to gather his strength and went to the front door.

The men, dressed unmistakably like gangsters, had menacing appearances to match. The one holding the document glanced around the house and let out a short whistle.

“This house is worth more than enough to pay off the debt. Why hasn’t even a penny been paid back, forcing us to come all the way here? And in this neighborhood full of shifters, no less—what a hassle.”

“Exactly, boss. From what I heard, this house used to belong to a beast-person too. Apparently, it was a tiger shifter.”