1440 - Chapter 14

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 14
In-eum couldn’t hide his displeasure. Seeing the family head remain silent, Yeon-hyeong reluctantly spoke in his stead.
“So what brings you here? Do you have the means to open it?”
He wasn’t asking about spiritual abilities—he was asking about money. Fortunately, Du-hee wasn’t so thick-headed as to miss that much.
A man only a few years his senior looking down on him rankled, but Du-hee knew this wasn’t the moment to take a stand on pride.
Du-hee answered quickly.
“I can provide as much money as you need! Even if I have to take out private loans, I’ll get whatever amount you want! Just please, please save me…….”
“Money is one thing, but how did you even find this place?”
At Yeon-hyeong’s question, Du-hee—who had been stammering with his waist bent as if offering a deep bow—lifted his head slightly. He glanced nervously at the three men seated before him and mumbled.
“A shaman introduced me to it…….”
“A shaman? Which shrine?”
Du-hee’s eyes rolled upward as he searched his memory.
“The first place was someone named Yeon-hui? That was the name, and the place she introduced me to was, what was it, Hyeon-myo-hyang? Something like that. It was kind of like a tarot cafe, sort of…….”
“That’s enough explanation. Head of the family—have you heard of such names?”
Yeon-hyeong looked to In-eum. In-eum thought hard, but he knew no shamans with such a Dharma Name or shrine. He glanced at Yeon-su as well, but the younger man only shook his head.
How on earth had he found out about this place?
In-eum’s eyes narrowed as he studied Du-hee again. But Du-hee no longer cared about such things. The moment his eyes met In-eum’s, he prostrated himself once more, pleading.
“I swear I can get the money somehow! I’ll take out private loans if I have to! They said I could live if I came here. Really! That Hyeon-myo-hyang place told me so, and—I’m not some strange person. If I leave here, I’ll really die. I really will!”
“You can’t just throw a tantrum and expect us to take you on.”
Yeon-hyeong merely frowned with irritation at his desperate plea.
Du-hee was far beneath their station. Even if he scraped together money through private loans, it would amount to no more than a few hundred million won at most. They had no desire to use a Curse that consumed their own flesh just to handle such petty sums.
That was when Yeon-su, without waiting for anyone else, reached toward the untouched refreshments. He carefully lifted his father’s teacup and presented it to him with both hands, respectfully.
Once In-eum accepted it, Yeon-su picked up his own cup, took a sip alongside his father, and spoke.
“Why not at least hear his story? He came seeking help, and turning him away without hearing his circumstances seems contrary to our teachings.”
What Yeon-su spoke of was the greatest teaching of shamanism.
To aid the common people in their hardship through divine power and divine word. That was the foremost duty that Divine Disciples were meant to uphold.
The Baek Family had long since strayed far from such teachings. For well over a century, they had cared nothing for the relief of common people, only for filling their own coffers. Yet they could not simply ignore such principles in front of someone who invoked them—if only for the sake of their reputation.
In the end, In-eum nodded his head. Seeing this, Yeon-su turned to Du-hee with a gentle tone.
“Tell us what happened. Take your time.”
Du-hee, who had been lying prostrate, lifted his head. He began pouring out the situation he had been turning over in his mind the entire journey here.
***
Du-hee was a member of the university’s Rural Service Club. He had belonged for three years already and held the standing of a senior within the Media Team of the club—a true core member.
This year, the club decided to undertake a long-term project rather than a short-term one. The project was to clean up and refurbish an abandoned school building.
That school was located in a village called Seoksong-myeon—a place whose name Du-hee had never even heard before. With almost no population under seventy, the school had been closed for over five years.
Five years—that’s what they said. But how rapidly a building deteriorates when human hands no longer touch it, especially when it sits abandoned in the countryside. The school he’d glimpsed on street view before the preliminary scouting looked nearly like a ruin.
“Hey, you’re really going to clean all that up?”
Du-hee asked as he was tending to his camera. Lee Han-ung, who was behind the wheel, glanced at him in the rearview mirror with a smile.
“Are you serious? President, it’s not really that, right? We’re just going through the motions?”
At Han-ung’s question, the club president in the front passenger seat, who had been tapping away on his tablet, looked up.
“No, we’re doing it for real. We got funding for operating expenses, so we have to show results, right? We’ll make a good portfolio piece out of this for later.”
With those words, President Kim Jin-hyeong turned around. In the back seat, wedged tightly among the camping gear, sat Du-hee—the recording manager—and Vice President An Su-gyun, both hunched in their places.
Jin-hyeong spoke to Du-hee.
“You got it? Start filming the moment we enter the village. We need a proper timeline showing how run-down the place is and how much we manage to clean it up. You brought plenty of memory cards, right?”
“Yeah, I brought them. But today’s just preliminary scouting anyway—we don’t need to shoot much.”
14
Jin-hyeong nodded in agreement with Du-hee’s answer.
“True enough. Hey, let’s actually film less. That way the others will think there’s barely any work to do and follow along without complaint.”
“Wow, your schemes are something, Kim Jin-hyeong.”
Su-gyun, who had been quietly sitting until now, laughed while pulling a basket toward himself and cradling it in his lap to keep it from tipping over. Jin-hyeong chuckled too at Su-gyun’s remark.
Though it was called a preliminary scouting, it was no different from a camping trip for the officers. Du-hee was thrilled to begin club activities early, something he’d thought would only be possible during winter break.
As the four of them chattered endlessly, the car had already reached the entrance to the village.
Goiae-ri
A stone marker bearing the village’s name sat at the head of a narrow dirt road. The car jolted and swayed over the rough, unpaved path. Han-ung gripped the steering wheel tightly and slowed down, carefully guiding the car onto the road.
After climbing a few more minutes up the weed-choked, stone-strewn path, the school building came into view at the village’s outer edge.
“I thought we’d have to go deeper, but it’s right at the entrance?”
“The guide said students from other villages came too. It’s barely on the outskirts, so kids could make it; if it were stuck back in some corner, how could they come every day on this terrible road?”
“True. Commuting to school in the countryside isn’t easy.”
The four made their way slowly into the school grounds. The building, its paint faded and peeling in patches of color, wasn’t in quite as bad a state as it had looked in the photos. Still.
“It feels so desolate. It’s only early autumn.”
“Yeah. Doesn’t the air feel cold? Is it because it’s rural?”
It seemed they’d driven roughly four hours from Seoul. Since this was a rural village requiring travel on national highways rather than expressways, even a brief traffic jam in the middle had stretched the journey enormously.
A glance at the watch showed six in the evening. In Seoul, it would still be bright, but not here. The sun had barely set moments ago, yet the surroundings had already grown dim.
There was no time for dinner—they’d have to start filming immediately. Everyone agreed with Du-hee’s assessment and postponed unloading the gear for later.
—This is a long-term project we’re undertaking with Saebyeok-deul. You can see it, right? This large elementary school. It’s been abandoned for five years now, and as you’d expect, the paint has peeled considerably……
As Kim Jin-hyeong’s words flowed with practiced ease, the school’s exterior appeared on Du-hee’s camera screen. With the sunset faintly illuminating the building behind it, the effect felt ominous rather than atmospheric.
—Look, it’s too dark. We might have to go with an abandoned building exploration concept instead. There’s no way to make this feel bright.
—What if I adjust the settings?
—The more I adjust, the eerier it gets. I’m not exaggerating.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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