An Office Worker Is Good At Exorcism - Chapter 150

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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 150
Part 4. It Was a Stake (2)
Whoooosh, thud!
Inside a moving car.
After crossing a speed bump, the vehicle jolted violently, and Yoon Sang—who had been sleeping deeply—opened his eyes groggily.
“Yawn…”
He stretched languidly before noticing Kang Hyung-seok beside him and quickly covered his mouth.
“My apologies, hyung. I must have dozed off without realizing it.”
“Sleep well?”
“Yes, yes. Being near you, hyung… I felt so at ease that I fell asleep without thinking.”
Kang Hyung-seok smiled in response to Yoon Sang’s sheepish grin, his lips curving upward.
“But it’s taking longer than I expected. We still haven’t arrived, it seems.”
“Ah, we’re on the way back.”
“What?”
“We’ve already been there and returned.”
Yoon Sang’s eyes widened in surprise, and he glanced frantically around before his expression became one of utter bewilderment.
“No way, hyung! You should have told me!”
“It’s fine. It wasn’t a place for you to be involved in anyway.”
Recalling his conversation with Na Sung-hwa, Kang Hyung-seok smiled bitterly.
The meeting had been far too serious for Yoon Sang to participate in.
“Still, hyung. I was worried something might happen to you.”
“I can protect myself.”
Both physically and spiritually.
Kang Hyung-seok possessed more than enough capability to do so.
“Ugh! What a shame.”
Yoon Sang rubbed his face vigorously before turning his gaze toward the window.
It wasn’t a residential district.
The Mountain was close by, and with only roads surrounding us, it had the impression of an outer highway.
“Huh? Where is this, hyung?”
“You ask quickly.”
Kang Hyung-seok took a moment to collect himself before continuing.
“There’s a place we need to go. I’ll need your help there.”
“Of course! Just tell me what to do!”
Yoon Sang spoke with confidence, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
“But hyung, what’s happening with the situation?”
Yoon Sang didn’t know about the conversation with Na Sung-hwa.
So Kang Hyung-seok took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking.
“I’ve figured out their intention. The place we visited—building a Factory there wasn’t actually the purpose.”
“Then what was?”
Kang Hyung-seok glanced briefly at Yoon Sang before continuing.
“That’s a shrine.”
“Pardon?”
The final syllable rose, betraying confusion.
I understand.
It’s because we’re dealing with sorcery.
Sorcery is the practice of imbuing meaning through color, form, metaphor—all to achieve a specific purpose.
Those consumed by sorcery never overlook even the smallest detail.
It’s an act of pouring one’s heart into something, and repetition makes it akin to prayer.
Prayer is the act of beseeching a deity.
Therefore, sorcery shares similarities with prayer.
“The man building the factory is Kim Ki-ok, and he’s performing sorcery to influence the gods of both nations. Weakening Korea’s god while allowing Japan’s to cross over.”
“Ah, wait—so is that person a sorcerer or something? Or a Japanese collaborator? A Japanese Onmyoji?”
“He’s insane.”
Yoon Sang’s eyes widened, his jaw going slack.
But there’s no other way to explain it.
“He used his own mother as sorcerous material under the Japanese Onmyoji’s direction. He’s willing to exploit the gods of both nations for his own profit.”
What’s more, Kim Ki-ok is half-blood.
That’s what makes him remarkable.
In the worst possible way.
Whoooosh.
Inside the moving car, Yoon Sang rubbed his lips, lost in deep thought.
His furrowed brows revealed just how profoundly he was contemplating.
“Hey, hyung.”
“Hmm?”
“So we’re heading to the factory now, right?”
Now that we know what Kim Ki-ok is actually building isn’t a factory but a shrine, he was asking if we’d stop it.
Kang Hyung-seok shook his head in response.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Going there would be pointless. Besides, he’s probably already aware we visited. We should just be grateful if we don’t get reported.”
“Then… what do we do?”
Yoon Sang’s eyes were questioning.
Whether we were just going to drop it like this.
“Rokurokuби is Kim Ki-ok’s mother.”
“…Yes.”
Yoon Sang raised one eyebrow as Kang Hyung-seok turned onto the left road at the fork and continued.
“She’s his guardian spirit. We need to resolve her first.”
Resolution means liberation.
We must sever the bonds that bind her to Kim Ki-ok and send her where she should have gone long ago.
Only then can we destroy Kim Ki-ok’s plans from their very foundation.
“Then… hyung, what happens to Kim Ki-ok?”
Thump!
The car lurched as it crossed over the speed bump.
In the silence that settled over the vehicle, Kang Hyung-seok reached for the coffee wedged in the cup holder.
“He’ll face the consequences of his sins.”
Those abandoned by their guardian spirit receive no protection.
In Kim Ki-ok’s case, the karmic retribution he’d sealed away with his food spirit and sorcery would come crashing down upon him.
An old man’s body would struggle to bear the weight of karma surging like an angry tide.
“Ah…”
Yoon Sang swallowed dryly and fell silent for a moment.
The conversation had grown too heavy, so Yoon Sang remained quiet, but soon his eyes brightened and he spoke again.
“So we’re going to catch Rokurokuби?”
“The phrasing is a bit off, but essentially yes.”
“Can we film it for the broadcast? Will you let me record?”
“If it’s possible.”
“Pardon?”
As Yoon Sang’s expression fell, Kang Hyung-seok took a sip of his coffee and set it down.
“Kim Ki-ok will have hidden Rokurokuби’s source in the most concealed place imaginable.”
Somewhere absolutely impossible to discover.
Especially somewhere a Korean would never dare to touch.
“…Where is that, hyung?”
“A tomb.”
“Pardon? A tomb?”
“That filthy-mouthed priest told me while you were sleeping.”
At these unexpected words, Yoon Sang’s face went rigid.
Clang, clang.
Just then, a sound from behind captured Yoon Sang’s attention.
Why didn’t I notice this sooner?
The heavy sound emanating from the trunk was impossible to ignore.
The sound of shovels and pickaxes.
***
Chirp, chirp, chirp.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sound of insects filled the air.
Kang Hyung-seok, who had been waiting in the car all this time, quietly opened his eyes.
“You’re… already awake?”
Yoon Sang seemed to be desperately hoping that Kang Hyung-seok would sleep a bit longer.
He had good reason.
Now they had to climb the Mountain and desecrate the Graveyard—a task entirely different in nature from visiting a Haunted House.
“Let’s move.”
“W-wait, hyung. Just a moment.”
Yoon Sang grabbed Kang Hyung-seok as he reached for the car door, his pupils trembling visibly.
“Are you really going to do this?”
“I know what you’re worried about.”
We’re about to desecrate the grave of a stranger—not even an ancestor’s tomb.
The instinctive revulsion was there, and the fear of potentially confronting a corpse loomed large.
And above all else, it was illegal.
“It’s not illegal if it’s not a real grave.”
“…Pardon?”
“It’s a false grave. The real tomb won’t be there.”
“Y-you’re certain, right? Hyung?”
Kang Hyung-seok pressed his lips together in thought before nodding.
“Why couldn’t you just answer right away!”
“Based on the circumstances, I’m right. And I’ll verify once more before we dig.”
Rokurokuби is Kim Ki-ok’s mother.
She must have performed some kind of sorcerous ritual, so she would have buried an empty coffin.
But something else would be inside instead.
I didn’t yet know what it was, but I was certain it was something that must never see the light of day.
“Ugh, seriously.”
“If you’re scared, stay here.”
“That’s even scarier, hyung!”
Yoon Sang made a miserable face and hurriedly gathered his camera.
This was maddening.
He couldn’t refuse because of the broadcast, but if by some chance a corpse actually emerged from the coffin, Yoon Sang could end up on national television.
‘I’m in the same boat.’
Why did I keep imagining Gwak Young-ho testifying, “Manager Kang would never do such a thing!”
A heavy sigh.
Kang Hyung-seok exhaled once, then got out of the car with Yoon Sang and retrieved the pickaxe and shovel.
They were new, purchased from the hardware store while Yoon Sang was asleep.
Shouldering one tool each, the two began their ascent up the Mountain.
Rattle, rattle, rattle.
I could hear Yoon Sang trembling as he followed behind.
It wasn’t an exaggeration—it was the actual truth.
His body trembled so violently that even the pickaxe slung across his shoulder rattled with each movement.
‘It will be difficult, but endure it.’
It wouldn’t take long.
Croak, croak.
The sound of toads croaking suggested a water source nearby.
Kim Ki-ok’s mother’s tomb lay in a place where human feet rarely tread.
It was the location Shin Yoseph had revealed.
Splash!
“Ugh!”
Yoon Sang nearly slipped, and I caught his wrist, preventing him from falling.
Yoon Sang nodded his trembling face in gratitude, though his expression looked pitiful.
Yet we had to continue.
Step, step.
Into the mountain shrouded in absolute darkness.
To desecrate the grave.
Click.
I checked my location via GPS using the map application and proceeded with caution.
Vegetation grown waist-high blocked our path, and occasionally spider webs or palm-sized moths darted out—yet with each obstacle, my conviction only strengthened.
‘This place is unmaintained.’
If this were truly his mother’s tomb, Kim Ki-ok, wealthy as he was, would have maintained it.
But he hadn’t.
This only increased the likelihood that it was a false grave.
Click.
I turned on my phone again and realized I was now near the graveyard.
This was it.
I illuminated the surroundings with my phone’s light, but saw only dense foliage, weeds, and overgrown branches.
“Look for it. There should be a tombstone.”
“Y-yes!”
Yoon Sang spoke in a terrified voice and began searching the area with the lantern’s brightness reduced to its minimum.
As I rummaged through the vegetation, my hand touched something hard.
“Found it!”
At my shout, Yoon Sang directed the lantern’s beam toward me.
The surroundings brightened, and I swept away the vegetation on both sides, revealing the tombstone.
It was a tombstone so neglected that moss had accumulated on it.
The epitaph carved in seal script was difficult to read, but by tracing it with my fingers, I could make it out.
Hara Seiko
‘Hara Seiko?’
Yoon Sang spoke in a voice tinged with both relief and disappointment. “It doesn’t seem to be a Japanese person, hyung-nim.”
I shook my head.
“No, I found it correctly.”
The characters ‘原静子’ read as Hara Seiko when pronounced in Japanese.
And when read in Korean, they become Hara Seiko.
Feeling Yoon Sang’s tense gaze upon me, I moved my hand toward my pocket.
Jingle, jingle, jingle, jingle, jingle.
Shaking the Shaman’s Bell, I meticulously examined every spiritual presence emanating from the surroundings.
The mountain was dark as pitch.
My vision obscured as if blindfolded, my senses grew acute.
Jingle, jingle, jingle!
There were many of them.
Victim Spirits clinging together in the nighttime mountain.
Yet among the spiritual presences felt in the graveyard, there was nothing that could be called a Victim Spirit.
Instead, I sensed something harsh and venomous.
Thud! Thud!
Startled by my sudden clawing at the earth with my bare hands, Yoon Sang hesitated, and I inhaled deeply the scent of buried soil.
A foul stench.
This was neither a sun-blessed place nor an auspicious site.
If anything, it was cursed ground—and the surrounding mountain birds enclosed it like a fence.
Like a vessel holding solitude.
“Dig it up.”
“Y-yes.”
Yoon Sang gripped the pickaxe with a trembling voice while I shook the Shaman’s Bell and chanted a prayer.
“By the earth’s heart and the spirits’ command, I invoke the great lord of the Eastern Peak, the radiant commander of creation.”
Yoon Sang swung the pickaxe, relying only on the faint beam of the headlamp.
Crack! Thud!
“Lord of the Southern Peak, keeper of crimson transformation and radiance; Lord of the Western Peak, answerer of prayers and great illuminator; Lord of the Northern Peak, keeper of mysteries and infinite truth.”
Thud! Thud!
As Yoon Sang cleared away the deep-rooted undergrowth, his breathing grew increasingly ragged.
Partly from exertion, partly from fear in the dark mountain, but most decisively from the soil of the graveyard now exposed.
‘The earth is far too black.’
Like ash.
As if whatever lay buried within had been consumed by flame.

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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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