Oh My Ghost Clients: Episodes 5-6 » Dramabeans

Oh My Ghost Clients: Episodes 5-6

by solstices

This week’s case hits a little too close to home for our hero, spurring him to take on an even more active role in protesting against workplace injustice. Our crew steps into the hallowed hallways of an elite university, in order to stand up for the invisible workers who are taken for granted all too often.

 
EPISODES 5-6

Apparently Bo-sal isn’t engineering near-death scenarios for our hero, or so he claims. In fact, it’s quite the contrary — he’s saving Mu-jin every time! Eternally calm in the face of Mu-jin’s exasperation, Bo-sal reminds Mu-jin that he shouldn’t blame the overworked laborers, but rather the system that needs to be changed. Cue Mu-jin’s eureka moment: “Should I go into politics?” LOL.

When he snaps back to the real world, Mu-jin is called home. Apparently, Mom (Jeon Guk-hyang) has been acting strange lately, and Dad suspects an affair. Upon reaching home, Mu-jin finds his older brother NOH WOO-JIN (cameo by Jin Seon-gyu!) lounging around on the couch, reading comic books and enjoying his rare time off from his construction job. But Hyung leaves the house before anyone other than Mu-jin sees him, and I have a sinking feeling…

In any case, Mom returns home with a friend in tow — except she’s only visible to Mu-jin. She’s KIM YOUNG-SOOK (Kang Ae-shim), Mom’s coworker of over a decade, and she passed away recently from a heart attack. That explains the adorable puppy which has become the newest member of their family, though Mu-jin can’t find out much more since Young-sook won’t speak.

After a bit of sleuthing and an afternoon of tailing Mom around, Mu-jin discovers she’s been dolling up on Saturdays not to meet a new man — but to take a test. It turns out the university she works at has been forcing its janitors to answer written exams in order to keep their jobs, and the questions are clearly meant to humiliate them. Not only are they quizzed on their English, but they’re also expected to know when a specific campus building was built. Worse yet, the administrative director (Park Won-sang) openly denigrates the janitors, sneering at their supposed ignorance and firing one for her failing scores.

This may seem like a fictional scenario exaggerated for storytelling purposes, but just like last week’s hospital case, this labor violation is unfortunately also founded in reality. In 2021, Seoul National University did the exact same thing to its janitors, right down to the arbitrary exams and unreasonable dress code on their off day. It’s all an excuse to cut costs and justify retrenchment while seemingly keeping their hands clean.

Terrified of losing their jobs, the janitors have been spending every spare minute studying, until Young-sook ultimately succumbed to the stress and overexertion. When Mu-jin realizes the janitors all eat separately in their cramped break room in order to stay out of sight, he treats them all to lunch (with a tiny cameo by chef Bo-sal, heh) and rouses them against their bullying bosses. At first, the janitors defend the job that they take pride in, until Mom points out that their working conditions are far too abysmal. They’re all underappreciated and constantly looked down upon — why should they have to walk on eggshells and bow gratefully for measly handouts?

Mom’s impassioned spiel is echoed by OH JANG-GEUN (Ahn Nae-sang), the de facto leader of the janitors, and the underappreciated workers finally rally together. Openly boycotting the exams, Mu-jin leads the janitors in a public protest outside the university. Unfortunately for them, it ends in a messy tug-of-war with the police and Mu-jin getting arrested for obstruction of business.

To his surprise, Mi-joo comes to pick him up. Their reunion barely lasts longer than lunch and a short stroll, but they obviously still care deeply for each other. It’s the way Mu-jin buys Mi-joo her favorite ice cream, and how Mi-joo’s prickly retorts take on a softer edge around him, even if Mu-jin’s foot-in-mouth obliviousness has Mi-joo exasperated more often than not. (“I can’t bear being apart… from our dog!” *facepalm*)

Anyway, it’s back to business for Mu-jin. In response to the administrative director’s destruction of their protest pickets, the janitors form a labor union, with Jang-geun stepping up as chairperson. Unsurprisingly, negotiations fall through, allowing the union to proceed with a strike. Trash piles up around the school, exacerbated by students who sit on their laurels while believing that someone will clean up after them.

A week in, the administrative director calls another meeting with our union leaders, but this time three students are present too. Citing how the strike has inconvenienced them and disrupted their studies, the students claim that they’re the victims and threaten to press charges against the janitors. Such selfish entitlement, especially coming from law students! Mu-jin points out the students are striking back at the wrong target, since the root cause of the matter is the systemic injustice within the institution, but the students won’t listen to reason. And of course, this too is based on a true incident, in which three Yonsei University students sued their school janitors for “noisy” demonstrations. (Good news: they lost the lawsuit, with Yonsei alumni stepping up to defend the janitors in court.)

Switching tack, our union resolves to appeal to the student body with sincere emotion. Amidst the janitors afraid to step forward, Young-sook finally speaks up, and Mu-jin writes her story. Alas, the handwritten letter soon gets plastered with derisive post-it notes, written by annoyed students who can’t spare a shred of empathy. The disheartened janitors back down, to Mu-jin’s frustration — but Mom just wants to protect her son from any potential legal consequences.

It seems like all hope is lost, but just then, a few students stop by the protest tent with bags of food and drinks. Expressing support for the janitors’ cause, they apologize for not being aware of their plight and sincerely cheer our team on. Our team realizes that they need to get the story out to the wider public, and you know what that means — it’s Gyeon-woo time! While Mom provides live footage of the examination with our crew’s special glasses, Gyeon-woo livestreams an exposé, and the viewers skyrocket alongside an endless stream of comments.

No longer cowed by the administrative director’s verbal abuse, Mom snatches up the mic and stands up for her coworkers. Then she flips the script and puts him to his own test — and embarrassingly, he can’t even speak the first word of the school anthem. All around him, the janitors sing in perfect unison, and it’s such a poignant moment — doubly so given that it’s the song Young-sook had poured her all into learning before she passed on.

Held accountable by the public, the university issues a formal apology, and the unfairly-fired janitor is reinstated. Over lunch, Young-sook tells Mu-jin how Mom always says she’s proud of him, aww. Casting one final, nostalgic glance back at the school she dedicated so much of herself to, Young-sook fades away with her heart finally at peace. And just as much as I love the comedic beat where Mom wonders why her son is talking to thin air, I also love the character development of Mu-jin going from picking out the spring onions in his food to finally eating them all when Mom serves them in her homemade soup.

As usual, the writer does such a good job of balancing the zany humor of our trio’s antics with the emotional gravitas of each case. There’s the obvious commentary on how people often don’t realise whose backs their privilege is built upon, but I think these episodes also point out how Mu-jin himself hadn’t known what his mother was going through until Young-sook’s case. It’s easy to get caught up in our own lives since the problems we face often feel overwhelming enough, and so this case feels like a reminder not only to appreciate the unsung heroes who make our lives easier, but also to spend more time with our parents while they’re still around.

To wrap up this week, we break the pattern of our protagonist stumbling into precarious situations. Instead, Mu-jin gets a call from Hee-joo saying she and Gyeon-woo are in the hospital, and he runs into a familiar face in the lobby. It’s the convenience store kid! The last time we saw Yoon-jae, he’d finally gotten hired at a big corporation, and Mu-jin congratulates him once more — only to freeze in shock when a passer-by walks right through him. Haltingly, the pair turn to face a mirror, and the realization dawns upon them. Yoon-jae has no reflection. “Am I dead?” asks Yoon-jae.

Nooooooo. They’re in a hospital, so surely Yoon-jae is just unconscious, right? Right?? You can’t have Yoon-jae finally call Mu-jin “hyung” and promise to take him up on his offer of chicken and beer by the Han River, only to kill him off right after! It’s so heart-wrenching how Yoon-jae has never even had time to visit the Han River before because he’s spent all his time working at such a young age, and I really hope Mu-jin can ease his burdens and ensure justice is served before it’s too late.

Then there’s Hyung, who walked out right before Mom came home, yet no mention was made of him at all. Foreshadowing, perhaps, or a red herring? After all, we do see Hyung interacting with tangible objects, such as when he opened the door to leave. Plus, he was reading comic books too (M.P., in a playful nod to the writer’s other work D.P.). It’s hard to tell for now, though I can’t help but wonder if Bo-sal’s reason for specifically recruiting Mu-jin as his labor attorney assistant may have something to do with Hyung. (I’m preparing a box of tissues just in case.)

 
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