Chapter 3. Beggar, Blessed by the Gods
“Haaaah.”
For the record, that wasn’t a line from one of my method-acting performances earlier.
“Haaaaaaaah!”
This was pure, raw emotion.
Letting out a long sigh once more, I gave a thumbs-up to the restaurant lady passing by and shouted with gusto:
“The broth is amazing!”
“Still no. You’ve already had two refills. You don’t look like a beggar, you look like a perfectly fine man.”
“……”
But I am a beggar.
Damn it, my method acting isn’t working.
Still, it’s fine.
Because this was the first time in forever I’d had a bowl of sundae soup that tasted so good it brought me to tears.
On top of that, downing a bottle of soju left me pleasantly tipsy—it felt like heaven.
“This is happiness.”
A satisfied smile crept across my lips before I knew it.
As expected, food tastes best when eaten at a restaurant.
Anyway, time to give up on more broth. Two refills was already more than enough.
“Excuse me!”
“Another soju?”
“Nope, could you bring more kimchi and side dishes instead?”
The restaurant lady’s face twisted, and she mouthed something under her breath as she went to fetch the side dish containers.
I knew exactly what she said.
“Damn beggar.”
Not even a proper curse word, just muttered so feebly.
After another refill of side dishes, I waddled out of the restaurant, patting my happily full stomach.
“Whew!”
So this is what true fullness feels like. Nice.
“Let’s see… I still have sixty-one thousand won left.”
New clothes, a refreshed body—it felt like today was the day to treat myself.
“Of course… a jjimjilbang vacation!”
Yes, it had been too long. I was going to splurge with a luxurious trip to the bathhouse.
Vroooom!
Just then, a line of familiar cars drove by in front of me.
“Still hanging around this neighborhood, huh?”
It was the same vehicles I’d seen earlier, the ones carrying the film crew.
“Oho, I can feel luck coming my way!”
The sight of those cars inexplicably lifted my spirits even higher.
If I could, I’d chase after them like a stunt devil and help them out somehow.
But all I could do was watch and cheer them on in my heart.
“Alright then—huh!? Wha—what the…!”
At that moment, I saw something unbelievable.
Something impossible in a dark alleyway.
A pale, pale, bare body…
“A cigarette butt!”
Of course—dessert after a meal!
Fearing someone else might grab it first, I rushed into the alley.
“Ohhh!”
It was still warm! A freshly discarded butt!
These days, a long cigarette butt is rarer than gold.
With prices so high, people smoke down to the filter until it burns.
Bad habit. Really bad.
But today was shaping up to be my lucky day in every way.
“Yes, today’s my day!”
I bent down to pick it up. But something felt off.
A shadow fell over the butt.
What was this? This tight, chilling feeling like my asshole was clenching?
I instinctively lifted my head.
Ah! Blinding!
Not because an angel had descended, but because of the glaring alley light above the utility pole.
“Well, well. Look at this bastard.”
Cold.
“Who…?”
“You bastard! Did you spit in the herbal medicine I drank earlier!?”
From those words, I immediately knew who this was.
Kwon Su-hyun.
Not “this bastard,” but “this man”—and he was furious.
That was supposed to stay my little secret.
Did someone see me? Should I try denying it?
…Nope, just look at his face.
Like an old fortune teller at Mia-ri with twenty years of experience—‘I know everything!’ written all over his expression.
So I decided to be honest.
“Hehehe, it was just improv. I wanted to make it look more like a miracle elixir, so I added a little flair—”
Damn… can’t he let me finish a sentence?
Before I knew it, his foot was stomping my face, sending me rolling across the ground.
A staggering man made his way down the street.
His name was Park Man-su.
“Ghhhuuhhh.”
His twisted face was full of pain.
His outfit was equally unusual—something like a modernized hanbok with a flashy, colorful overcoat.
He looked like a shaman straight out of a movie.
And indeed, he was.
“Stop it… please, no more.”
Park Man-su wasn’t just any shaman—he had been a very successful one.
Unlike those who only bore the title, he had the genuine ability to channel spirits.
The problem was… the possession itself.
After years of repeated channeling, his body could no longer endure it.
In time, not only gods but all manner of restless ghosts came and went freely through him.
The real problem was that he had realized this too late, blinded by greed.
Now, he couldn’t even distinguish between gods and spirits.
When it was a god, fine. But when it was a ghost? Disaster.
Worse yet, his constitution wasn’t built to handle it.
Back when he was healthy, no ghost could even touch him.
But now, weakened by years of overuse, they slipped in and out of him like his body was their own home.
At this rate, one would take him over entirely.
Desperate, he had cast a divination with everything he had.
The result: his only salvation lay here, in this very place.
“This cursed gift…”
He choked, spitting blood again.
His body was breaking down along with his spirit.
Passersby avoided him, unnerved by his gaudy outfit and bloody state.
Not that he would’ve accepted help anyway.
The only way he could survive was to transfer his ability to someone else.
But it couldn’t be just anyone—it had to be someone capable of being possessed.
That was what the god of possession had once told him.
Ironically, the very blessing that had given him power was now choking the life out of him.
The god had even warned him at the start: develop the sight to distinguish spirits, or your gift will strangle you.
But wealth had blinded him, making him dismiss the warning.
And that was why he was now a step away from death.
No hospital could diagnose what was killing him.
“Hiik! Hiiik! I… I have to live!”
Driven purely by survival instinct, he stumbled forward into a deserted alley.
His mind was filled only with the thought of living, of not losing the fortune he’d amassed.
Meanwhile, Kwon Su-hyun was still stomping the beggar sprawled at his feet when his road manager grabbed him.
“P-please stop! You’ll kill him!”
“Fuck! So what if one beggar dies!?”
Su-hyun had been furious ever since one of the staff whispered to him near the end of filming.
They’d giggled while saying that the beggar had spat into the herbal pill Su-hyun had taken earlier.
The moment he heard it, he’d felt nauseous. And furious.
So when that very beggar showed up in the same secluded alley where he came to smoke, he snapped.
“Ughhh…”
The bloody man groaned pitifully on the ground.
Su-hyun paused briefly, his manager tugging his arm again.
“If you cause another scandal, the CEO will never forgive you! Please, hold back!”
“Damn it.”
Su-hyun glared down at the beggar.
And there, in his hand—even while crumpled on the ground—was that half-smoked cigarette butt, held like treasure.
I-Is it over?
It felt like something had broken.
Even though I’d done my best to dodge, my whole body throbbed. I couldn’t even breathe properly—it felt like I was about to die.
Honestly, if he’d kept hitting me, I might’ve had no choice but to fight back.
But I endured, because I had bigger plans.
“Huuuuhhh!”
I let out a long, drawn-out groan with all the strength I had.
That should make it look like I’m on the verge of death.
They say revenge is best served cold.
But for beggars? Revenge is… surviving.
An old beggar once told me that.
Back then, I thought it was bullshit.
But after years of begging, I was starting to understand.
A beggar is nothing.
In the old days, kids would give coins to beggars and get praised by their parents for being kind.
Now? Parents smack them for going near something dirty.
Damn, just thinking about it pisses me off.
But that’s the truth—beggars are worthless.
So what revenge is there for someone worthless?
Survival. Just keep living.
That’s the only revenge a beggar can have.
Sure, I could fight back. But that’d just make things worse.
No cop would ever say, “Hey, you were wrong, he swung first? A beggar’s still a human, you know, you can’t do that.”
Nope. I’d just get dragged to lockup.
And prison meals are only worth it if you get arrested smartly, like during the winter.
If you get thrown in for a brawl, it sucks.
I knew a beggar who bragged about free food after jail.
But it was the last thing he bragged about.
He got beaten to death in his sleep.
Of course I knew who did it—those he fought with.
Unfair? Maybe. But what did it matter? No one would report it.
That’s how beggars die—like dogs.
And honestly, I didn’t want to die like that.
I had to live. No matter what.
Even if it meant begging, I had to keep going.
My family had sacrificed themselves for me.
They traded their lives for mine—how could I waste it?
I… I missed my mom.
My grandma.
My dad.
Tears welled up.
And just then, that bastard stepped on my hand.
“Ahhh! My cigarette!”
“You filthy beggar! Consider yourself lucky.”
“Ahhhhhh!”
Not only my hand, but my heart broke from the crushed cigarette.
Damn it! After he left, I’d planned to lean against the stone wall, light up, and look cool like in the movies.
“Hey? Someone’s coming! Hurry!”
“Shit! Consider yourself lucky!”
“Cough!”
They’re leaving. Lucky my ass.
I stuck the ruined cigarette butt in my mouth.
The side was torn open, but if I covered it, maybe it’d still work.
Except…
“Damn, no fire.”
A beggar’s life, a beggar’s luck.
Just then, I heard footsteps.
Oh right, didn’t they mention someone was coming earlier?
Maybe this person has a lighter.
Maybe even a kind soul who’d take me to a hospital and pay the bill.
Groaning, I dragged myself toward the sound.
“Excuse me, do you have a light—”
Holy shit!
Nearly scared me to death.
For a moment, I thought he was a ghost.
This guy looked worse off than me.
Decked out in colorful clothes, looking exactly like a shaman.
…Wait, maybe he was.
“Hhhhk! Hhhhuuuk!”
“Guess that’s just my fate.”
I sighed, cigarette butt still clamped in my mouth.
This guy was in worse shape than me, blood soaking the front of his clothes.
But the real problem was behind him.
“What the hell, a tour group?”
Ghosts.
Dozens of them, trailing after him.
Some even slipped in and out of his body, making his eyes roll back unnaturally each time.
Holy crap. A man scarier than ghosts.
This was more terrifying than any special effects.
Without thinking, I muttered with relief:
“At least I’m lucky. No ghosts are slipping in and out of me.”
But then… he came toward me.
Go away! Just look at my face—you can tell I’m about to die!
“Shoo! Get lost!”
“Found… found you.”
Found what? That gave me a bad feeling.
“Hey, you bastard!”
I knew it. He was after me.
I tried to fight back.
“I don’t have anything but this!”
My cigarette butt.
Wait… maybe not? Huh? Huh?
Thud!
Suddenly, he collapsed in front of me, grabbing my ankle.
“H-hey, I’m in bad shape too! Seriously! Mister! Hey, mister!”
The guy coughed up more blood.
“Damn it, these were new clothes!”
It soaked into my pants.
Then, lifting his bloodied face, his lips quivered as he whispered:
“Po—”
“Begging won’t help! You’re paying for my clothes!”
“Possess…”
“…You son of a bitch.”
