An Office Worker Is Good At Exorcism - Chapter 10
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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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Chapter 10
Part 4. What Must Not Be Seen (1)
A Malevolent Spirit had attached itself to Shin Jung-ah.
It was evidence that her vital energy had weakened and she had fallen under the influence of something malignant.
Kang Hyung-seok observed Shin Jung-ah in silence before turning his body toward the espresso machine.
“You smoke, don’t you?”
“Huh?”
“I saw a pack of cigarettes when I was organizing things yesterday. Would you like me to show you where the smoking area is?”
“Y-yes, sure.”
No smoker refuses an offer to the smoking area.
Splash.
After preparing a cup of Americano, he handed the coffee to Shin Jung-ah.
“What about you?”
“I have something I prepared this morning. Please wait outside. I’ll bring it.”
After ushering Shin Jung-ah out of the break room, Kang Hyung-seok returned to his desk and opened a drawer.
‘It’s here.’
A container filled with salt.
Salt had the effect of repelling Malevolent Spirits.
Because he had frequently suffered from Malevolent Spirits, Kang Hyung-seok always kept such a salt container close at hand.
Clink.
Gathering the salt container and his tumbler, he ascended to the rooftop with Shin Jung-ah.
Then he sipped his coffee while watching her smoke.
More precisely, he kept his gaze fixed on the elderly woman continuously strangling her neck.
“Manager, just a moment.”
“Yes?”
“You have something on your shoulder. Shall I remove it?”
“No, it’s fine. I can—”
Shin Jung-ah attempted to reach her shoulder with her hand while still holding the cigarette.
“It’s an insect.”
But at Kang Hyung-seok’s words, her hand froze abruptly, and her eyes sent out a desperate plea for help.
“It’s large. Don’t move.”
“P-please hurry. Do something about it.”
Click.
Opening the container from his pocket, he brushed her shoulder with a salt-coated finger.
“Done.”
“D-did it fall off?”
“Yes.”
As Kang Hyung-seok brushed the remaining salt from his finger, Shin Jung-ah exhaled sharply, her face drained of color.
This man must be terrified of insects.
“Ugh, gross.”
“You seem to really dislike insects.”
“Anything with too many legs makes my skin crawl.”
Whether it was relief washing over her or the thought of insects clinging to her skin, Shin Jung-ah touched her shoulder and furrowed her brow.
It would certainly be strange.
The sudden lightness, as if the suffocation and fatigue had lifted.
Kang Hyung-seok approached her carefully as she lit her cigarette.
“About that nightmare you mentioned having last night—what was it like?”
“Just some weird nightmare. Nothing to worry about.”
“Was it perhaps a nightmare involving ghosts?”
That was when it happened.
Shin Jung-ah, who had been about to inhale, looked at Kang Hyung-seok with widened eyes.
“Do you actually believe in that stuff?”
“Folklore was my major.”
“Folklore? We have a major like that?”
It was a question he heard often, so Kang Hyung-seok nodded with a bittersweet smile.
“Through studying shamanism and superstition, I naturally developed an interest. I was just asking on the off chance.”
People fall into two broad categories.
Those who believe in shamanism and those who don’t.
To non-believers, it’s nonsensical superstition—a culture that must be eradicated. But to believers, shamanism is both science and religion.
From what Kang Hyung-seok could tell, Shin Jung-ah belonged to those who believed.
“That’s unexpected. You don’t look the type.”
Shin Jung-ah muttered to herself, tilted her head slightly, and spoke.
“Because of what you said yesterday, I dreamed about seeing a ghost.”
“What kind of ghost was it?”
Shin Jung-ah smoked in silence for a moment.
The image of that ghost—one she’d rather not recall.
But since Kang Hyung-seok had helped her yesterday, it was difficult to ignore his question.
“It was crawling across the ceiling. It had nothing below the knees.”
“…I see.”
“Why do you look so serious? It was just a dream.”
Kang Hyung-seok drank his coffee from the tumbler in silence.
Whether it was a dream or not wasn’t really the point.
She had seen a ghost, and a Malevolent Spirit had appeared in its wake.
Shin Jung-ah had been influenced by that ghost.
That ghost was likely the entity the Shaman’s Bell had revealed to her.
“I happen to know a remedy for this.”
Just as expected, Shin Jung-ah’s eyes brightened at the word “remedy”—confirming she did indeed visit the Shamanic Temple.
“How do you know that?”
“I told you. I know a bit of this and that.”
Kang Hyung-seok deliberately sipped his coffee as he continued.
“Pick up some red beans on your way home from work.”
His words about the remedy came across as casual conversation.
“If you boil the red beans in a pot before going to sleep, it should help.”
“Boil red beans?”
“Yes. It will make things considerably better. If you want to be extra cautious, sprinkle salt continuously along all four walls of the small room.”
Red beans and salt possess the efficacy to drive away spiritual contamination.
Salt affects the floor, while the steam from boiling red beans influences the space itself.
It’s one of the folk remedies anyone can easily perform at home.
“I was thinking of getting a talisman later anyway….”
“But it’s Friday today. If you go after work, it’ll be too late, and with the weekend in between, you won’t make it until next week—and that would be far too long to wait.”
Shin Jung-ah pondered for a moment, then nodded and jotted down Kang Hyung-seok’s instructions in her phone.
Watching her, Kang Hyung-seok sipped the last of his coffee.
I was beginning to understand.
The meaning behind Lee Geum-kyung’s words about becoming a shaman among people.
Yet it wasn’t solely because of those words.
‘It doesn’t feel like someone else’s problem.’
It wasn’t because it was Shin Jung-ah specifically, or because she was the director’s niece—I simply wanted to extend a helping hand.
I knew well the suffering of being tormented by spirits.
Knowing how unbearably difficult it was, I found it impossible to turn away.
“What was your phone number again?”
“My phone number?”
“Sorry, but since I’ve never done anything like this before—would it be okay if I contacted you if I have any questions?”
“Of course.”
Besides, having contact information was always useful among colleagues in the same department.
Kang Hyung-seok took Shin Jung-ah’s phone and entered his number, then pressed the call button.
Even as he did, he hoped no calls would come regarding spirits.
He simply hoped the remedy would resolve everything.
***
Glub-glub-glub.
The aroma of red beans simmering vigorously in the pot filled Shin Jung-ah’s apartment.
After reducing the flame, she peered through the closed window.
Part of her wanted to throw it wide open, but she sensed that doing so would diminish the ritual’s efficacy.
Glub-glub-glub.
Watching the pot as the beans boiled and released their crimson liquid, I crossed my arms.
Then I retrieved an electronic cigarette and took a drag, sinking into contemplation.
‘Something feels off. There’s definitely something about him.’
At first, he seemed like an ordinary office worker.
But now, that impression no longer held.
‘How does he know about the secret methods…?’
Many people had an interest in shamanism.
However, those who knew the secret methods were exceedingly rare.
Boil the red beans, and sprinkle salt continuously so it never runs out?
How many people would know such things?
Glub-glub-glub.
Like the roiling beans, my thoughts grew turbulent and confused.
I recalled a peculiar aura that had flickered across Kang Hyung-seok’s face when he explained the secret methods.
It had been fleeting, barely perceptible, but it carried that distinctive essence one could sense from a shaman.
‘Is he really someone with power…?’
Shhh.
Drawing deeply on the strawberry smoothie-scented vapor from my electronic cigarette, I shook my head.
Such thoughts seemed excessive.
Whoosh.
After spreading salt in a thin, continuous line across the small room, I folded the bag and looked up at the ceiling.
I had seen a spirit crawling across that ceiling at dawn.
It couldn’t have been real, so I told myself it was a dream, but honestly, I’m not entirely convinced it was.
Shiver.
Recalling its form sent chills down my spine.
I withdrew my gaze from the ceiling, verified that the salt had been properly distributed, turned off the light, and closed the door.
Earnestly hoping that nothing would happen.
***
Bzzzzzzzz!
My phone screamed for attention like a desperate plea, jolting me awake.
A groggy groan escaped my lips.
Half-asleep, I reached for the phone, intending to silence the alarm.
But it wasn’t an alarm.
A call from Shin Jung-ah.
Before I could even press the answer button, the call dropped, and moments later, a text arrived.
「Kang Hyung-seok, I’m sorry, but could you call me back?」
I sat on the edge of the bed and exhaled heavily.
The ritual hadn’t worked.
There was no other reason she’d be calling me on a Saturday morning like this.
After washing away the last traces of sleep with a glass of cold water, I called Shin Jung-ah back.
Click.
The line connected immediately, and her voice came through.
(Kang Hyung-seok, I know it’s not polite to call on a day off, but I’m really terrified.)
“Calm down, ma’am.”
Shin Jung-ah, who had been speaking frantically, fell silent at my composed words.
“What’s happened?”
(That, well. You know the method you told me about yesterday?)
“Yes.”
(Yesterday I was just tired, so I didn’t wake up in the middle of the night and slept straight through.)
Her voice trembled so visibly it seemed to color her expression.
(But this morning when I checked the salt, its shape was different from yesterday.)
“…I see.”
(Do you know what that means? This is strange, isn’t it? Right?)
“You’re at home right now, correct?”
(Yes.)
Though she said nothing more, I could feel the desperate hope in her voice—a silent plea for me to come.
I closed my eyes, then opened them, gazing at the marks on my palm.
The three dots were a precept I had received when I grasped the Shaman’s Bell.
Do what is right.
The precept’s meaning pressed upon me, and I pressed my lips together before speaking.
“I’ll come right away.”
(…Really?)
“Yes. I’m leaving now, so it should take about twenty minutes.”
(Okay. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry and grateful.)
“Wait outside your apartment.”
After hanging up, I grabbed my car keys.
***
Vrrrrm.
Inside the car, Kang Hyung-seok sipped coffee from a tumbler.
It was black coffee he’d made at home, and a backpack sat on the passenger seat beside the cup holder.
The backpack containing the Shaman’s Bell.
‘I hope this isn’t something serious.’
A living person had been affected by the dead.
By that measure alone, this had crossed beyond the threshold of a minor incident.
But I shouldn’t abandon hope.
‘It could be an influence from her birth chart.’
From what I’d observed, Shin Jung-ah definitely had a volatile temperament.
And she frequented the Shamanic Temple, showing deep interest in methods of exorcism.
There are broadly two types of people who visit a Shamanic Temple.
One seeks to know an uncertain future.
The other comes to end their suffering.
I suspected Shin Jung-ah visited for both reasons.
‘The Ghost Gate Killing Star, the White Tiger Great Killing Star.’
Those were the inauspicious marks I believed existed in Shin Jung-ah’s birth chart.
Neither was a favorable mark.
Especially when both existed together, people like Shin Jung-ah could suddenly fall under the influence of spirits.
I exhaled heavily and parked my car near Shin Jung-ah’s apartment.
Unaware of my vehicle, Shin Jung-ah stood in the alley, her face anxious as she glanced about.
Click.
“Manager.”
“Hyung-seok!”
The moment Shin Jung-ah saw me descending with the backpack, she released a breath of relief.
It’s always like this.
Suffering related to spirits is something few can empathize with, and even harder to ask for help with.
For Shin Jung-ah, enduring such torment, my arrival felt as welcome as spotting a rescue team emerging from flames.
“What happened to the salt?”
Shin Jung-ah showed me a photo she’d taken on her phone.
“I-I definitely sprinkled it in a straight line, right? But the salt ended up like this.”
The salt in the photo lay scattered.
As if wind from the wall had blown it away.
The wall was distant from the window, and with a clothing rack installed at that location, such a phenomenon logically couldn’t occur.
“Let’s go inside together.”
“Ah, inside?”
“Either way, you’ll need to resolve this eventually.”
Shin Jung-ah flinched in surprise, then nodded with a hardened expression.
It meant she might have to move if things came to that.
Tap, tap.
Kang Hyung-seok moved forward alongside Shin Jung-ah.
It was a Saturday morning, and they were entering a quiet residential house.
Yet there was not a trace of peace or leisure to be found—only a palpable sense of unease that pressed down upon them.
As Shin Jung-ah swallowed dryly, watching intently, Kang Hyung-seok grasped the front door handle.
Creak-eeeek.
And as he slowly pulled the door open,
Ring, ring, ring.
The Shaman’s Bell inside the backpack began to chime, as if warning of something sinister.
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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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