Chapter 1
“I’m really sorry to ask this out of nowhere… but would you sleep with me? Just once?”
Whatever boldness Seora had mustered for that outrageous request had long since vanished. Her slender fingers trembled as they gripped the edge of the bedsheet.
—“Groom, lights off.”
A directive crackled through the wireless earbud. Grimacing at the shaman’s command, Suhyeok spoke curtly.
“I’ll listen to the manual—for now. But keep it short and snappy. I’m hanging up.”
As Suhyeok turned off the bedside lamp, Seora’s heart pounded like a war drum.
“Are you nervous?”
“No… I mean, I— I don’t know!”
He gently lifted her chin, gazing down at her with half-lidded, sultry eyes.
“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”
His low voice reverberated through her like thunder. For all her fear of ghosts, perhaps the real danger was this man she had only just met.
And yet, somehow… his commanding tone calmed her. With the clock ticking toward midnight—the hour she might very well die—Seora clung to the firmness of his resolve.
—“You’ve heard the phrase ‘fool the ghost,’ right? That’s what we’re doing here. An impossible mission. If you don’t want to be dragged off by that bachelor ghost, you need to act like a real married couple. Now, look into each other’s eyes…”
Suhyeok cut her off.
“I don’t even know why I’m believing this crap, but—does ‘in’ mean we have to be done by midnight? Or just started by midnight?”
—“In! In! You just have to be in the base by midnight—doesn’t matter if you front-flip or slide into it. Just get there! Now, the next step—”
“That’s enough. I can’t concentrate with this nonsense.”
He yanked the earbud out and powered off his phone before tossing it across the room. The silence that followed was deafening.
The ticking of the clock toward midnight matched Seora’s trembling heartbeat.
This is just like the horror version of “The King’s Game,” she told herself.
She had decided to become the brave bride of this terrifying first night.
Just think of this man as my real husband. Married couples do naughty things all the time—it’s nothing…
Click.
Suhyeok undid the first button of her blouse. Her chest rose and fell with nervous breath.
His eyes traveled slowly from her neck to her collarbone, landing on the pale skin of her shoulder.
He leaned in, lips parted, to take the bite he’d been craving—
CRASH!
The tightly shut window slammed open with force. The billowing white curtain flared like a ghost.
Startled, Seora turned instinctively toward the noise.
“Don’t look.”
Suhyeok’s voice was firm. Seora, eyes wide with fear, gave a slow nod.
Suhyeok knelt over her and undid his pants. Seora turned her head away in a panic.
11:59 p.m.
“If it hurts, tell me. I won’t stop, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
Her eyes filled with tears—of fear, of regret.
Will I still be alive in a minute? Will I be able to say it hurts?
Or will I already be gone—beyond all sensation?
3 seconds to midnight. 2. 1.
Seora squeezed her eyes shut.
The clock struck twelve.
BEEEEEEP!
“You’re haunted! A bachelor ghost who died unmarried is clinging to you!”
The kind of place Seora never thought she’d enter in her life—a shaman’s house with red and yellow flags fluttering out front.
But here she was, seated cross-legged on a straw mat, the events of the past three sleepless years flashing before her eyes.
“Wherever I sleep, the ghost appears.”
She had moved homes, stayed at hotels and motels, crashed at friends’ places, even camped deep in the mountains. Once, she even slept on a park bench.
It was all useless.
“No matter where I go, it follows me. It’s like it knows exactly where I am. How am I supposed to live like this? I feel like I’m being slowly buried alive.”
Finally, she burst into tears.
Being haunted by a ghost that appeared without warning, day or night, had completely broken her.
“Just recently, I was so scared to be alone that I stayed at a 24-hour café. I dozed off for a second—and I felt it. That presence. It touches my face… gropes my body… breathes into my ear… those cold, scratchy fingers…”
Remembering it sent shivers crawling over her skin. She kept brushing her neck as if trying to wipe the memory away.
“I’m terrified of the ghost… and I’m terrified of having to deal with it alone. I don’t think I can survive another day.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Even with a steel soul, you won’t last long like this.”
Shaman Cindy’s blunt tone made Seora stare at her in alarm.
“Honey, you don’t have much time left.”
“What? What do you mean…?”
She’d already been to psychiatrists, famous monks, priests, pastors—you name it.
She was beyond exhausted, beyond caring whether this was a scam. At this point, she didn’t care if it cost her all she had.
Whether she died sleepless, went mad, or simply got scared to death—it didn’t matter.
This shaman was her last resort.
And now what? All she got was a death sentence?
“I’m going to die? The ghost is going to kill me?”
So that’s how it ends for me. Murdered—by a ghost.
Three years of exhaustion weighed on her as she sat there, stunned.
“The ghost clinging to you isn’t just any random spirit. What do you think it wants from you?”
“What? Why is it doing this to me?”
“It found its bride. Now it wants to take her to the afterlife.”
“W-What?!”
She was only twenty-nine.
She’d planned to save for a small apartment just outside the city, maybe take out a modest loan. By her late forties, she hoped to change careers with the certificates she’d collected.
So much for that.
Thud.
Seora’s pale hand collapsed onto the woven mat.
“Get a grip! You’re just going to let it take you?”
“What else can I do? How do I beat a ghost? I… I’m begging you, isn’t there some other way?”
She looked at the young shaman desperately, swallowing hard.
“Take a husband. Today.”
“What? A husband? I’m not even married!”
“You must have a boyfriend, right?”
“No, I… don’t…”
“What the hell have you been doing all your life?!”
“Studying… getting a job… making money…”
SMACK!
The shaman slammed her palm on the table, scattering grains of rice everywhere.
“Ah!”
Seora flinched, curling up like a startled rabbit. Ever since the ghost, even rustling leaves made her jump.
“You dimwit! Halfwit! Simpleton!”
She had never been scolded like this for not having a boyfriend.
“What about a guy? You don’t have to be dating him.”
“I told you, I don’t—”
“Not a boyfriend. A guy you fool around with! For fun! Someone you bang when you’re bored. Don’t you have one of those?”
That was a thing? There were different guys for different purposes?
What kind of logic is this?
“Forget it. If you want to live, do exactly as I say. There’s only one way out of this.”
“I’ll do it! Anything!”
“Then go straight home and—”
“Yes?”
“Sleep with a man.”
“Go straight home and… sleep with a man?!”
Why does everything with this shaman lead back to men?!
I told you, I don’t have one!
It felt like being dangled over a cliff while someone teased her with a rope.
“Do it in front of the ghost. Every night. Make sure it sees everything. Only then will it leave you.”
What kind of mortifying plan is this?!
“The ghost will realize, ‘Ah, they’re like a burning newlywed couple. I don’t have a body to do that with…’ and it’ll leave. So find a man. Any man.”
“But I can’t just sleep with anyone—”
Seora looked panicked.
“Your face screams ‘flirt for sport,’ but wow, you really haven’t lived up to it. You’re a lot more innocent than you look.”
She couldn’t summon a husband from clay or magic.
“Why not just go on a blind date and get married?”
As if that’s possible overnight. Marriage isn’t a joke. Even if she started now, it would take time.
Sensing her hesitation, Shaman Cindy’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Still not scared enough, huh? You think you’ve got time to be picky? Didn’t you come here begging me to save you?”
“It’s not that… I’m desperate, but how am I supposed to go from a blind date to marriage in a day?”
“Listen, my sweet naïve Miss Im Seora. Do you want a wedding?”
What kind of question is that?
“How do I become a wife without a wedding…”
“You think you’ve got time to dream of white dresses and church bells?”
“I know, but still… it’s marriage…”
Seora lowered her head, picking at the mat with her thumbnail. Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Get your act together. You’re going to die! You don’t have long!”
Cindy thwacked the corner of the table with her fan like it was a disciplinary stick.
“I can’t just conjure up a husband out of nowhere…”
“You fool! Then fake one!”
A fake husband…?
