An Office Worker Is Good At Exorcism - Chapter 197

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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 196
Part 5. You Shouldn’t Get Entangled (3)
(A contract doesn’t seem like a good idea?)
At the Highway Rest Stop, Kang Hyung-seok continued his call with Gwak Young-ho.
“Yes, Manager. I checked it myself—there were no employees, the machinery was shut down. Something felt off.”
(And it’s not even a holiday?)
“They claimed it was due to a meeting, but there were many suspicious things.”
(Sigh, what specifically?)
Irritation seeped through Gwak Young-ho’s voice.
I’d nearly fallen for a scam.
That’s what it seemed like, but I couldn’t mention how the Victim Spirits were tangled together.
“The place was packed with materials, and they disclosed their accounting ledgers from the very beginning. It felt premeditated.”
(You said there were no employees?)
“Yes. But it didn’t seem like they were on vacation—something just felt deeply wrong.”
That’s all I could say.
(Sigh! I had a feeling this was too good to be true.)
“From what I observed directly, they don’t seem like trustworthy people.”
(Understood. Thank goodness I sent you and Shin Manager to check.)
A relief.
Gwak Young-ho accepted Kang Hyung-seok’s words without a shred of doubt.
What?
Shin Jung-ah, eating buttered fingerling potatoes right in front of me, spoke with only her lips.
Kang Hyung-seok signaled her to be quiet and refocused on the call.
“They might try to pursue this further. Just in case, could you tell Sales Team 2 that it’s best they avoid contact with that company?”
(Ah! Right, right.)
You never know.
Sales Team 2, feeling pressure to meet their quotas, might eagerly sign a contract with them.
I needed to eliminate that possibility beforehand, and for that, I needed Gwak Young-ho’s help.
(I’ll make sure to tell the Team 2 manager directly. Don’t worry about it.)
“Thank you, Manager.”
Worry seemed to seep through Kang Hyung-seok’s voice.
(Don’t mention it. No need to worry. Remember when Sales Team 2 caused trouble before and we cleaned up their mess? Since then, the Team 2 manager has been a bit hesitant about things.)
“Ah, you mean the Wallpaper Factory incident?”
(That’s the one.)
Bu-yong, who had suffered a spirit marriage.
It was a contract issue resolved thanks to helping that person.
“Phew, thank you.”
(How about you—have you eaten?)
Kang Hyung-seok glanced once at Shin Jung-ah, who was eagerly eating her fingerling potatoes, then answered.
“I’m planning to eat here at the rest stop.”
“Egg! Treat yourself to something nice.”
“No, that’s alright.”
“Don’t forget to bring the receipt. And I’ll swing by around 3 PM.”
“I should arrive around that time. Is there anything urgent?”
“No, nothing pressing.”
Kang Hyung-seok paused in thought before shifting his gaze toward Shin Jung-ah.
There’s an old saying—even dogs shouldn’t be disturbed while eating.
Yet because he kept poking at her with his eyes, Shin Jung-ah’s brow had narrowed into an unmistakably displeased expression.
“Then we’ll coordinate our schedule among ourselves and try to visit other locations if possible.”
“You’d do that? That’s great! Since you’ve already come this far anyway.”
“Understood. I’ll contact you again later.”
“Got it! Fighting!”
Beep.
Kang Hyung-seok set his phone down on the table and rubbed his face.
“What did they say?”
“They won’t be doing business with that place. He said he’d also make sure to inform Sales Team 2 properly.”
Sales Team 3 was a direct procurement department anyway, so it didn’t matter.
So Daejeong Materials was resolved.
But what troubled me was that strange place could conduct business with anywhere else at any time.
Whoosh.
Shin Jung-ah pushed forward the sweet potato she’d been eating, while smoothly pulling the mackerel stone squid from around Kang Hyung-seok’s side toward herself.
“Manager Kang.”
“Yes?”
“If it really bothers you, want to verify it once?”
“Verify what?”
Shin Jung-ah smiled faintly while poking at the mackerel stone squid crumbs with a wooden skewer.
“I mentioned I’d contacted my previous workplace, remember?”
“Yes.”
I couldn’t even guess what Shin Jung-ah was getting at.
“I’ll contact them and secure a sample. Wouldn’t that make things more certain?”
Kang Hyung-seok was momentarily at a loss for words.
In a way, it was fortunate that the matter was resolved before it could escalate.
Yet Shin Jung-ah read my concerns and understood them.
“Thank you, Manager.”
“It’s not difficult. If we verify it ourselves and feel reassured, that’s all that matters.”
Shin Jung-ah pulled out her phone as if she’d decided to strike while the iron was hot.
She checked her wristwatch, then composed and sent a message.
“Done. I told them that place is suspicious, so they shouldn’t sign a contract if possible, and just to secure a sample just in case.”
Kang Hyung-seok smiled with a mixture of gratitude and apology.
“I think I would’ve been troubled without you, Manager.”
“That’s enough! We work together and know each other’s situations—can’t I do at least this much for you?”
Shin Jung-ah laughed heartily before picking up the wooden skewer again.
Butter-grilled baby potatoes, grilled squid on soapstone.
Everything salty, everything that would make your throat parched.
“Hey, Kang Manager?”
“Yes?”
“Would it be okay if I just had one cola…?”
Kang Hyung-seok watched Shin Jung-ah’s earnest expression for a moment before bursting into laughter and heading off to buy drinks.
***
It was that night.
After visiting one more client with Shin Jung-ah, I returned home and showered with hot water first.
Splash! Splash!
Then I sprinkled salt over my body—that horrifying sight from earlier in the day wouldn’t fade easily from my mind.
‘What is their true nature really?’
There was definitely some intention behind it.
Twenty years. Twenty years.
That factory had been producing burial shrouds and bone urns.
If there truly was some intention, it meant they’d been doing something for a full twenty years.
Yet the Factory Owner didn’t appear to be a Shaman or Shamanic Practitioner at all.
I knew of exactly one case like this.
‘Kim Ki-ok.’
The man who murdered his mother and manipulated her as a food spirit.
And the person who had tried to establish an Altar under the orders of a Japanese Onmyoji.
“…Tsk.”
Seeing the hair on my forearms stand on end, I furrowed my brow and brushed away the water and salt from my body.
Then I used the showerhead to push the fallen salt down the drain, changed into clothes, and stepped outside.
Click.
I picked up my phone and, after a moment’s thought, launched the Internet Broadcasting application.
I confirmed that Yoon Sang wasn’t streaming, then called him directly.
Ring….
(Yes, hyung!)
Yoon Sang answered with terrifying immediacy, his voice booming through.
“What? Why did you answer so fast?”
(How could I answer slowly when it’s hyung calling?)
His voice was echoing—
He must have been looking at his phone in the bathroom when he answered.
“Ah, sorry. I have something to do for a moment—could you call me back in about five minutes?”
(Huh? Ah, yes!)
Yoon Sang, realizing my consideration, hung up awkwardly, and I made very weak coffee while waiting five minutes.
Ring.
(Yes, hyung!)
This time, Yoon Sang’s voice didn’t come through.
(What’s going on? You’ve been contacting everyone!)
His voice brimmed with anticipation, but unfortunately, I had no news of a joint broadcast or collaboration to share.
“Sorry to bother you, but I need to ask you something. Do you have a moment?”
(Of course, hyung! Anything!)
Yoon Sang’s cheerful tone remained unchanged, showing no disappointment whatsoever.
“When we dealt with Rokurokuби before, I noticed you seemed knowledgeable about that sort of thing. So I wanted to ask you about something.”
(Huh? Is something wrong?)
“I’m not entirely sure yet. That’s why I’m asking.”
I took a sip of the warm, mild coffee before continuing.
“I visited a factory recently, and something about it felt off.”
(A factory?)
“A place that makes burial shrouds and cremation urns. But the warehouse was packed with Victim Spirits.”
The sight had been absolutely horrifying.
So I rubbed my eyes, trying to erase what I’d witnessed.
“Does anything come to mind when you hear what I’m describing?”
It was worth a shot.
That was the spirit in which I posed the question.
But Yoon Sang’s answer came back immediately.
(Isn’t that a human pillar sacrifice?)
“…What?”
(You said burial shrouds and cremation urns. It’s about offering humans as sacrifices. The best kind is using living people, but the point is sacrificing humans as offerings.)
“Wait, wait a moment…”
Sacrifices?
Human sacrifices?
They’d been performing dark rituals on dead people for twenty years?
“Are you certain?”
(I often share horror stories on my broadcast or introduce scary things, you know. Human pillar sacrifices are traditionally performed before constructing buildings—using people as offerings. The term itself means “human pillar.”)
A curse escaped my lips.
The coffins being buried were long like pillars, and the cremation urns enshrined in the ossuary had the appearance of architectural structures.
“What purpose would that serve?”
(Since it’s a form of human sacrifice… it’s usually done for one’s own safety or before constructing something, I’d imagine?)
Typically it involved buildings, from what I’d heard.
Yoon Sang’s continuing words seemed to reach me from a great distance.
(Hyung…?)
“No, it’s fine. Thanks for the information.”
Leaving the bewildered Yoon Sang behind, I ended the call.
Then I set my phone on the table and pressed my forehead against my palm—it felt hot, as if I were burning with fever.
‘Damn it. What the hell is this?’
I had simply filtered out one suspicious client.
But now I had entered a stage where I could no longer speak of it so casually.
If Yoon Sang’s words were true, this had become a matter entangled with sorcery.
Kang Hyung-seok felt like a castaway adrift on a boundless sea, thrown into such a massive game that he had no idea where to even begin touching it.
“…I need help.”
In times like these, the only thing I could rely on was my Guardian Spirit.
Kang Hyung-seok’s gaze shifted toward the backpack positioned near the shoe rack.
Inside it lay my shamanic tools.
“A dangerous person is doing something strange. Please show me the path I must walk.”
Watching the backpack remain motionless like a Buddha statue in a Spirit Shrine, Kang Hyung-seok continued speaking.
“I did not know of this before, but now I do. What must I do?”
The bag, the Shaman’s Bell inside it, the ritual blade—none of them offered any answer.
Yet still, Kang Hyung-seok kept his gaze fixed and continued.
“Must I stop them…?”
The moment those low words flowed from his lips.
Ding.
The Shaman’s Bell rang out.
Kang Hyung-seok clenched his teeth, then forced them open.
“Must I confront them?”
There was no response.
Because of that, Kang Hyung-seok thought even more carefully, deliberated deeply, and posed another question.
“Is there only one thing I must confront?”
Ding.
The Shaman’s Bell rang again.
That meant yes.
Kang Hyung-seok swallowed hard and asked in a voice far lower than before.
“Is it a person?”
The bell did not ring.
No matter how long I waited.

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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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