Chapter 9
Why is she there? Haje asked himself.
The woman sitting on the floor pulled the earth toward her, caressing it, and cried out loudly for a long time.
What was so sorrowful? What was so unbearably sad? After crying herself out, she stood and looked up at the sky.
“How long do I have to keep running?”
Only then did Haje notice something—her clothing was very different from modern attire.
“How long! Why, why!?”
She stomped her feet on the dirt path and screamed, “Aaaah!” Haje quietly watched her.
The Hwakyung didn’t reveal much. Only what it wanted him to see, related to his ears, appeared before him.
Is this all? He wondered if she had become senseless from grief over some loss. Just as he questioned this,
“Run… run, quickly, quickly!”
The woman shouted urgently, though Haje couldn’t tell where her cries were directed.
Whoooosh—bang!
Something flew through the air and hit the ground with a deafening crash. The earth shook. Trees snapped, flames surged. Amid the chaos, Haje swallowed hard and turned to where the woman had been.
At that moment, he confronted her.
Her twisted body, arms and legs bent unnaturally, and her face grotesquely twisted into a smile.
“Hee-hee, hee-hee… run, run, run!”
That sorrowful laughter, echoing until her final breath, was the last he saw. The Hwakyung then showed where she had collapsed.
Why? Why did it need to show this much? Haje turned his gaze cautiously.
A chill ran through him. The village where she had fallen was remarkably familiar.
“This is…”
The place he knew. The village he had recently seen most often.
And the strange thing was—all of this was through the Hwakyung. Perhaps it was a dream.
“Why…?”
He wanted to ask why, but no answer came.
“Hee-hee, hic! Run, run!”
“Hee-hee-hee, hic. Hee-hee. It hurts. It hurts.”
“Kik-kik, kik-kik-kik. Where, how far, why? When?”
Voices alternated, as if two mouths whispered into each of his ears, making his mind spin.
I can’t let myself be swallowed like this…
“Snap out of it, Haje!”
His grandmother’s stern voice rang out. Yet Haje could hardly move.
It felt as if the village itself was telling him to face everything, to see everything without skipping a single detail, to come. He couldn’t do anything but stare.
Had it ever been like this before? No—it was the first time. He had never been so helplessly trapped by his ears, absorbed entirely in the Hwakyung.
Rrrr. A sound rang in his ears. A cold sensation pressed under his feet.
“Kwon Haje!”
Someone’s voice struck him sharply.
Then, the firm strength of two arms wrapped around his waist. At first, he resisted stubbornly, trying not to be led by that grip…
Bang! With a loud crash, he fell backward. Falling sideways, the side of his head throbbed painfully.
“Ah, oww…”
Only then did he feel like he had returned to reality.
What on earth had just happened? Shaking his head, he pressed it with one hand and pushed himself upright.
“….”
Do-hyeon glared at him from the floor.
“…What?”
Why is he staring at me like that? Did he just save me?
It was hard to understand. Even though he hadn’t seemed to hear the voices of the spirits on him, just being pulled out by Do-hyeon cleared his mind and restored his senses.
What is this situation? Flustered for a moment, Do-hyeon stood and pressed Haje’s head down with his palm, still staring at him.
“I came in because it was quiet, but as expected…”
“…What do you mean?”
“You haven’t been praying lately, right? How absorbed were you to almost jump out the window, swayed by that mindless thing?”
What? Haje turned to understand, and Do-hyeon’s words made sense.
The large bedroom window was wide open. Someone had stepped on it, leaving the soles of their socks blackened.
But it wasn’t just that he had been swayed. Haje had been swept up in all the emotions brought by his ears, fully immersed in what he saw through the Hwakyung.
“Run, I have to run.”
The voice seemed to repeat the same sorrowful words, as if running was its only goal.
“Step aside. It’s my turn.”
Do-hyeon said bluntly to the dazed Haje.
Haje didn’t want to step back. He had seen everything—he almost understood. If he could just take the spirit to the shrine and release its grudges, everything would be fine.
“If it’s a lingering spirit that even a shaman can’t handle, it’s better to let it disappear.”
He showed no hint of mercy.
Clicking his tongue, he pulled out a rosary and talismans from his pocket. Haje desperately grabbed his hand.
“Wait, just a moment. A little longer. I’ve seen something! Through the Hwakyung!”
“Is there a ghost that won’t show itself?”
Haje couldn’t answer. Do-hyeon, as if expecting this, continued.
“You know well that a living person becomes a ghost when they die. A ghost struggles, showing their living self, right?”
“If there’s no consciousness, sometimes you can’t see it.”
“So, what did you see?”
“….”
Haje paused. He glanced at Yura, nervously watching from outside the door, then back at Do-hyeon.
“A cannonball came flying.”
“….”
“The woman, from the impact… her limbs…”
Haje said nothing, but Do-hyeon understood, looking around the room, aware that Yura could hear.
“That’s why it’s trying to run. The memory of dying is too vivid. It can’t shake it off, even in death.”
“That’s what we call lingering spirit energy.”
Haje’s grip on Do-hyeon’s hand tightened.
Lingering spirit energy—the powerful gust that hits at the moment of death created this ghost.
Then shouldn’t he listen more, soothe it, and send it somewhere better? But…
“Even in death, what cannot be let go of won’t disappear.”
Do-hyeon stood firm.
“If it could let go in death, it wouldn’t have harmed anyone in the first place.”
While Haje hesitated, Do-hyeon shook off his hand and pushed him outside the door.
Simultaneously—bang! The door closed. Click—the lock engaged. Haje snapped back to reality.
“Hey! Open the door! Wait, I’ll take it to the shrine myself!”
Bang bang! He knocked, but no response came from inside.
All he could hear was the recitation of sutras beyond the door.
Haje continued to knock.
“I saw the village! That village again!”
Bang bang! Bang bang!
Despite Haje’s pleas, Do-hyeon never responded. After pounding for what felt like an eternity, his body went limp.
“Child, you did your best.”
His grandmother’s voice echoed in his mind. Haje sank to the floor.
Was this something even his own spirit couldn’t handle? Perhaps letting it disappear was the best option.
As he bit his lip in thought…
“Um, sir.”
Yura approached him cautiously.
He felt embarrassed for showing such a scene in front of a client. He forced a smile, stood, and tidied his hair.
“I’m sorry. I… I only made a fool of myself.”
Her voice, heavy and sinking, carried the full weight of despair he felt.
Clearing his throat lightly, Haje faced Yura. It would be okay. She wouldn’t be tormented anymore. He was about to say this when Yura’s suspicious voice cut in.
“The village… if I heard correctly…”
Yura spoke as if she already knew something.
“So… I think I have a rough idea.”
Perhaps now he could finally figure out the identity that had been tormenting him ever since he arrived at this villa.
