Chapter 13
At the same time, Haje was sitting cross-legged before the altar, praying.
It wasn’t even the designated prayer time, but today, he felt compelled to do it.
Perhaps it was because Yujin, who had just returned from such an ominous place, had stepped into his shrine. Perhaps it was the guilt he felt for having sent her off in such a half-hearted way.
Either way, it left him with no choice but to pray.
“…Ha.”
But he couldn’t concentrate.
Every time he tried to pray, Yujin’s face kept appearing in his mind.
Why was this happening? It wasn’t as though he had a crush on her. And yet, he couldn’t get her out of his head. It didn’t make any sense.
In the end, unable to focus, he abruptly got up and stepped outside.
The earthy smell that even the incense couldn’t mask kept stinging his nose. Maybe if he went out for some fresh air, he would feel better.
He thought that as he threw the doors wide open.
“…What, incense not burning properly?”
Of course. Perfect timing.
Right then, he found himself face-to-face with Dohyeon, who had also come out through the door.
The sarcastic tone made Haje scoff.
“Mind your own business, will you?”
Haje snapped irritably, but Dohyeon only sneered.
Ironically, the two of them descended the stairs together. Haje wanted to snap at him again—ask why he was following—but when he saw the cigarette in Dohyeon’s hand, he held his tongue.
When they finally reached the first floor, Haje tilted his head back, inhaling deeply as he gazed at the sky that hadn’t yet lost its daylight.
“There was someone standing in front of your place earlier.”
The words came as Dohyeon lit his cigarette. Haje bit down hard on the inside of his cheek.
What came to mind was Dohyeon’s image in the video Yujin had shown him. It didn’t make sense. He shouldn’t have been there—it wasn’t as though he’d gone along as an adviser, nor that he’d been preparing the broadcast together.
Didn’t it look as though he’d been there on purpose?
Should he ask? But what if bringing it up just made things more troublesome?
“His face was ashen.”
That casual remark stirred up an inexplicable wave of emotion in Haje.
Maybe it was because Dohyeon’s absurd creed came to mind—that spirits weren’t to be appeased but eradicated.
Still, the timing wasn’t bad. Now he could bring it up—mention that he’d seen him in the video.
“…Do you know that guy?”
“No. First time I’ve seen him.”
“…”
“Spotted him while I was smoking on my way back in. Why? Is there a problem?”
“If you don’t know what you’re talking about, then shut up. Nothing’s more obnoxious than pretending you do.”
“You can’t pretend if you really don’t know. Probably.”
His constant retorts were infuriating.
Haje forced a smile, steadying his breath.
“Yeah? Ah, right. You must’ve seen it there.”
“There? You mean in front of your place?”
“No. The abandoned village. With the crumbling pier and the pitch-black river.”
He expected Dohyeon to react with suspicion—How do you know that? Were you following me?
Haje thought he had him. That it would rattle Dohyeon.
“…You know that village?”
But Dohyeon’s reaction was completely unexpected.
His eyes sank, expression turning grave. The look made Haje flinch, as though he’d been the one to say something wrong.
“You gonna count seeing it on video as ‘knowing’ it?”
“…”
“I saw you in the video Yujin brought. Standing there like an idiot.”
“…Of course. Figures. Why did I expect anything else.”
Dohyeon clicked his tongue, shaking his head. His voice carried resignation more than fatigue, as though saying, Here we go again.
It was a baffling response. His expression, tone, and manner—all of it—it felt like he was belittling him. And that grated against Haje’s nerves all the more.
“If an ordinary person went all the way into that village… it’s already latched onto them. You didn’t even realize that?”
Clearly, he was trying to change the subject—but that wasn’t the issue.
The way he said You didn’t realize? sounded like he was deliberately trying to rile him up.
Haje clenched his fist tight and let out a scornful laugh.
“You think I don’t know? I know. I saw it. That’s why I said we should hold the ritual. Ah, right, I forgot—your philosophy is that spirits must be driven out, no matter what.”
“…”
“What, no comeback? Guess not, since I’m right.”
Finally, he felt like he’d won the argument. Even if it all felt childish.
Haje snorted, brushing off his hands as though to dismiss the whole matter. He was about to turn back inside—better to resume praying—when Dohyeon spoke again.
“That place… it’s a guimun. A gate for spirits. A threshold they pass through. And once you’re caught in it, you can’t escape—it’s a pit, a trap.”
“…What?”
“I thought you would’ve noticed from the video. Guess not.”
“…”
Better to say nothing. If he ignored him, maybe it wouldn’t escalate further.
But Dohyeon wasn’t done. He just stared at Haje as though waiting for him to respond.
After a long silence, he finally smirked, dropping his spent cigarette and grinding it underfoot.
“You’ll regret it bitterly. Sending away the living, just so you could ‘soothe’ those things.”
“What do you know? Spirits were people once. Their lives may have ended, but it’s not as simple as banishing them completely.”
“The problem is, the dead are reaching out their thorny hands to the living. You saw that Yujin—she came to you, didn’t she? Can’t you tell? The living come first. That’s the basic rule.”
“I know. Of course I know the living come first—that’s the foundation. But exorcising blindly won’t solve everything. That’s why I said the appeasement is necessary.”
At that moment, one thought struck Haje.
This wasn’t just a clash of ideologies between him and Dohyeon—the center of it was Yujin. She was the one who had truly suffered.
And another realization followed: maybe this was a place deliberately luring people in. Even if that “someone” wasn’t among the living.
A gust of wind blew between their heated exchange.
The air grew heavy, weighed down by the tension. Every word felt like a thorn digging into his chest. Rarely had anyone gotten under Haje’s skin this much.
Why did everything Dohyeon said make his mind flinch like this?
“Fine then. That person who came to you—just hope she clings tight to reality. Pray that she doesn’t stray too far, that she comes back. Go on, beg your revered spirits.”
Clicking his tongue, Dohyeon turned away first. Haje glared at him until he disappeared back inside and up the stairs.
Only when the door slammed shut did the strength leave his eyes. Reaching out thorny hands… Maybe, just this once, Dohyeon was right.
For the first time, Haje found himself agreeing with him.
Two days had passed since Yujin returned home.
Haje needed to prepare for the ritual, but it wasn’t easy. Finding a monk who could recite the sutras and a shaman who could assist him proved nearly impossible.
Everyone who saw the video waved it off in refusal. They all said the same thing: You’ve stirred something you shouldn’t have. Find someone else.
But Haje refused to give up. He had to save Yujin.
After another grueling day, he finally collapsed into sleep—only to find his dreams unusually chaotic.
He was running down a pitch-black road. The sound of splashing water echoed with every step.
Looking down, he saw his white trouser hems soaked red.
What the—?! Horrified, he ran faster, but no matter what, the blood kept staining his clothes.
“…Sir.”
And then, Yujin’s voice.
Gasp! He jolted awake, breath ragged.
The cold air of his room pressed against his skin. From the extinguished censer, a thin wisp of smoke curled upward, telling him the dream hadn’t been just a dream.
“…Damn it. All because of that bastard Gong Dohyeon.”
He blamed the unsettling dream on Dohyeon.
That’s what he told himself as he lay back down, trying to fall asleep again.
But sleep wouldn’t come. Even whispering a silent prayer did nothing to still his restless mind. The dark hour of dawn loomed, oppressive.
Maybe he should just get up.
It was then that his phone rang.
Producer Jeongso.
The very PD who had introduced Yujin to him.
“…Why, all of a sudden…”
Unease surged in his chest. Picking at his nail, he hesitated, then finally pressed the button with trembling hands.
The dream. Yujin’s voice. The bloodstained trousers. None of it had been ordinary. He couldn’t ignore this call.
“Yes, PD-nim. What’s the matter, calling at this hour?”
What followed was the sound of weeping. Sobbing, stifled cries, as if trying to hold them back.
He didn’t even have the courage to ask What happened? A chill ran down his spine, his hair standing on end.
[Teacher… did Yujin come by?]
Her tear-soaked voice made him nod unconsciously, as though she were standing right before him.
“Yes. She came. We agreed to set a date for the ritual. Why? What happened?”
Then came the wailing.
Heart-wrenching sobs, broken cries. He could do nothing but wait, phone pressed to his ear for minutes.
And finally, the words reached him—distorted by tears, but searingly clear.
[What do we do… What are we supposed to do… PD Yujin, she—she—]
“What happened? What’s wrong? Tell me!”
[Today… on top of a building… she jumped.]
Jingle.
Once more, the faint chime of bells rang in Haje’s ears.
