An Office Worker Is Good At Exorcism - Chapter 210

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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 209
Part 2. What Emerged from the Earth (3)
Rumble.
As Kang Hyung-seok returned to Ha Jang-seo’s Land, his gaze shifted to his mobile phone.
The screen displayed Kim Jae-sik’s name.
‘The professor should know about this.’
It was a structure with a traditional aesthetic.
It appeared to be at least several hundred years old, and Kim Jae-sik was the most promising person to consult regarding such matters.
(Hey! Hyung-seok!)
As the call connected, Kang Hyung-seok unconsciously exhaled deeply.
(What is it? You young punk. What’s wrong? Is something the matter?)
“Professor.”
(I’m listening. I’m listening.)
Kim Jae-sik’s voice carried a tranquility that suggested he was resting at home.
I envied that composure.
That’s why I felt sorry.
Because I had to say something that might shatter that ease.
“I have something to ask you about. I’ll send you some photographs—could you take a look for a moment?”
(Why? Are you involved in something else again?)
“It would be faster if you saw them directly.”
The traffic light had just turned red.
I retrieved the mobile phone from the dashboard and sent the photographs to Kim Jae-sik while watching the light.
They were pictures of the structure that had emerged from the earth.
“Do you happen to know what it is?”
(What is this? Where was this taken?)
“A client was planning to expand their business, so….”
The light was really short.
As it changed to green, Kang Hyung-seok placed the phone back on the dashboard and lifted his foot from the brake.
The engine roared as the car moved again, and I spoke in a voice lower than the noise.
“It was uncovered while digging the land.”
(Wow, this is…)
“Do you know what it is?”
(If I don’t know, I should quit being a professor.)
So he does know.
Kang Hyung-seok’s gaze turned toward the phone with relief, and Kim Jae-sik’s voice continued from the speaker.
(There’s no signboard, but it’s a Yeolnyeo-gak. That’s strange though. Why is it underground?)
“A Yeolnyeo-gak?”
(You’ve learned this too, but during the Joseon Dynasty, Confucianism was the center of society.)
I knew that.
In folk traditions, legends, and myths, Confucianism was an essential element that was difficult to omit.
(The Yeolnyeo-gak is erected by the state to honor those recognized as virtuous women. The criterion for recognition is chastity.)
“Chastity means not remarrying even after a husband’s death, or…?”
(Or taking one’s own life when facing violation by another man.)
“Ah…”
By modern standards, such a thing is utterly absurd.
Yet the state once recognized it in the past.
(From today’s perspective, it’s nothing but evil, but you have to understand it as the spirit of that era. However, when anything becomes bloated, it casts a shadow.)
Kim Jae-sik, imagining what expression Kang Hyung-seok must be wearing now, continued in a tone that seemed almost bitter.
(Confucianism in particular was sometimes used as a political tool when the nation was in chaos or hardship, when public sentiment was poor.)
“Are you referring to the Japanese Invasion of 1592 or the Manchu Invasion of 1636?”
(Well, yes.)
The Japanese Invasion of 1592.
The Manchu Invasion of 1636.
These two wars, occurring close together in time, certainly had the power to unsettle the people’s hearts.
(So the state began promoting virtuous women, and the standards became stricter. In modern terms, you might call it gaslighting.)
“I see what you mean.”
Coercion from others is common even in this era.
Why aren’t you a virtuous woman?
You’ve tainted chastity through remarriage and brought shame upon your family.
Who could be certain that no one has ever heard such words?
(Once there are benefits, simply being recognized as a virtuous woman is enough to revive a crumbling family. Local officials also benefited from the promotion. And that’s when a truly absurd phenomenon emerged.)
“What?”
(The standards rise, but the number of virtuous women skyrockets.)
The explanation continued: virtuous women numbered 272 in early Joseon but surged to 845 in late Joseon.
(Anyway, being buried in the ground doesn’t seem like something to be proud of. It only looks like something that was intentionally buried and forgotten.)
“Phew, thank you.”
(An important client?)
Avoid entanglement if you can.
It was a message clearly conveyed in Kim Jae-sik’s tone.
“There’s no such thing as an unimportant client.”
(Good grief, really.)
“I appreciate your concern.”
Kang Hyung-seok spoke with a wry smile, and Kim Jae-sik clicked his tongue.
(If you ever need my advice, contact me right away.)
Kang Hyung-seok gazed briefly at Kim Jae-sik’s name displayed on his phone, a gentle smile on his face.
How much those words comfort me.
“Thank you, Professor.”
(Now I know what kind of life you’re living.)
“…Yes.”
(I hope you stay safe. That’s my lifelong wish!)
“What kind of lifelong wish is that?”
(That’s just how I feel, kid.)
Kim Jae-sik must have laughed in a way similar to Kang Hyung-seok.
The energy emanating from his voice told me so.
“Yes. I’ll always be careful.”
(Good, stay strong! Fighting!)
“Once everything is over, if there’s anything worth sharing with the professor, I’ll pass it along.”
(Then I’d be thrilled!)
Kang Hyung-seok ended the call with a laugh, his final words being that he’d contact him next time.
Silence settled over the car.
The sun tilted sharply toward the west.
Darkness and night prepared to arrive gradually.
“Sigh.”
As if the laughter from moments before had been a lie, Kang Hyung-seok’s face hardened, and I rolled my tongue inside my mouth.
‘Yeolnyeo-gak, Yeolnyeo-gak.’
I didn’t know what circumstances were tangled up in that place.
But hearing Kim Jae-sik’s words, it seemed far from gentle—it would be terrifying if anything.
『You will arrive at your destination shortly. Navigation complete.』
At the guidance from the navigation system, Kang Hyung-seok slowly closed and opened his eyes.
Then I pulled the car onto the shoulder, grabbed only my phone, and approached Ha Jang-seo’s Land.
Thud, thud.
Walking through soil marked distinctly by excavator tracks, I headed toward the pit.
‘Did Ha Jang-seo come by already?’
A ladder I hadn’t seen before was now in place.
Kang Hyung-seok climbed down the ladder into the pit below.
The depth was just slightly over three meters.
Yet the sound of vehicles traveling on the road above faded dramatically, creating the sensation of entering another world.
Whoosh.
Loose soil crumbled and soiled my shoulders, but my gaze remained fixed on Yeolnyeo-gak.
Perhaps because I’d heard Kim Jae-sik’s explanation.
Or perhaps because I was seeing it up close.
Or perhaps because I now understood there might be a story behind it.
Yeolnyeo-gak right before me looked like something harboring immense malice.
‘The sign is….’
There were marks where nails had been torn out.
As if hoping the world would never know this was Yeolnyeo-gak.
Kang Hyung-seok swallowed dryly and leaned his head inside Yeolnyeo-gak.
From this angle, it couldn’t be seen from above.
Whether buried in soil or not, the exterior was in poor condition—ominous enough to be unsettling.
Then what about the interior?
“…Sigh.”
I should have just left it unseen.
That was my first thought the moment I laid eyes on the ceiling and interior of the Yeolnyeo-gak.
Whether from fingernails or blade marks, the wooden interior of the Yeolnyeo-gak was covered entirely with scratches.
‘There isn’t even a beam inscription.’
It’s the text that hangs inside traditional Korean structures.
It typically contains the building’s history and blessings, and it’s especially easy to find in structures erected by the state.
Not only was such an inscription absent, but there were only traces of something having been torn away like a signboard.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
The constantly cascading soil seemed to issue a warning.
Don’t stay here.
Flee at once.
This is no place for you to be.
“Phew.”
I wiped my heated forehead, troubled by the swirling thoughts, and shifted my gaze toward the ladder.
Then I flinched and took a step back.
“Ha Jang-seo?”
“No, I was wondering who it was. Why are you down there?”
Ha Jang-seo was looking down at me from above the pit.
“I thought it might be a cultural property, so I was examining it a bit.”
“Oh my.”
From above the pit, Ha Jang-seo’s eyes conveyed gratitude, as if touched that I would care so much.
“Does it seem like a cultural property at all?”
“The preservation condition is too poor, and it’s missing things that should be there. I think the inspector’s discretion will be crucial.”
“Things that should be there?”
I turned to examine the Yeolnyeo-gak once more, then put my weight on the ladder.
After climbing up, I continued the conversation with Ha Jang-seo.
“Yes. I asked someone knowledgeable, and they said it appears to be a Yeolnyeo-gak. But there’s no beam inscription, and no signboard either.”
“Ah.”
“What does the original landowner say about it?”
“He just used it as a field, so he’s asking in return whether such a thing even existed.”
Ha Jang-seo, seeming equally frustrated, lit a cigarette.
Then, standing beside me, he looked down at the Yeolnyeo-gak in the pit and lit it.
“What on earth is this thing. Ugh.”
“…Indeed.”
I too gazed down at the Yeolnyeo-gak.
The Shaman’s Bell had certainly warned me, and now Baekseol, who had become a three-eyed fox, reacted sensitively.
Above all, the energy emanating from that Yeolnyeo-gak felt far too damp and heavy.
As if gravity itself were stronger in that place alone.
“Don’t worry too much about it. It was cheap land anyway.”
“Still, you did invest in it.”
“As the saying goes, who knows what fortune or misfortune may come? If this truly gets recognized as a cultural artifact, won’t your children appreciate it later?”
Ha Jang-seo spoke with a smile.
But Kang Hyung-seok’s face grew increasingly tense.
‘He has children?’
Kang Hyung-seok’s gaze snapped toward Yeolnyeo-gak.
His neck suddenly stiffened, and a faint pain crept through the inside of his nose.
The energy emanating from Yeolnyeo-gak had grown noticeably stronger.
It was listening.
Yeolnyeo-gak was listening to Ha Jang-seo’s words.
“Half-abandoned children are still children, after all…”
This wouldn’t do.
I had to cut off the conversation.
I had to prevent it from hearing.
“Say.”
Ha Jang-seo, interrupted mid-sentence, held a cigarette between his lips and stared at Kang Hyung-seok with wide eyes.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“Not yet, actually…”
“Perfect. Let me treat you. Why don’t we share a meal and chat?”
Yeolnyeo-gak must not learn that Ha Jang-seo had children.
This conviction filled my mind completely.
“Ah… well.”
“You know that Factory Employee you saw earlier? I think it would be nice if you could have a relaxed conversation over a meal with him.”
“There’s no need.”
“Actually, I’ve wanted to treat you since this afternoon. Please, just give me this one chance.”
As Kang Hyung-seok spoke with a smile, a faint grin appeared at the corners of Ha Jang-seo’s mouth.
“Yes, let’s do that.”
“Thank you, Factory Owner.”
Kang Hyung-seok gestured toward the Road.
Ha Jang-seo followed suit with a laugh, accepting his guidance as they walked away in the opposite direction from Yeolnyeo-gak.
“You enjoyed the dried pollack, didn’t you? How about that place?”
“It went under. That place.”
“Really?”
“These days, all the self-employed are struggling. But a franchise moved in instead, and it’s doing well. Do you like samgyetang?”
“I can’t eat what I don’t have access to.”
“Haha.”
As I continued the pleasant conversation, I glanced back.
Now that we were close to the Road, Yeolnyeo-gak was no longer visible. Yet the energy still rippled out from the pit, gripping my gaze and refusing to let go.

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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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