An Office Worker Is Good At Exorcism - Chapter 266

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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 265
Part 6. The Affairs of Men (2)
My breath came in gasps.
Why? Why on earth?
What drove him to go this far?
Crash!
Kim Il-hong vaulted through the shattered window frame, its jagged edges like blades, and burst into the room.
Blood streamed from his lacerated wounds in thick rivulets, yet he moved as though immune to pain.
“Kim Il-hong!”
Kang Hyung-seok called out urgently, but he shambled toward the jar like a corpse animated by will alone.
‘This cannot happen.’
He was trying to break the seal.
He meant to release what dwelt within that jar before the resentment could be properly resolved.
Kang Hyung-seok seized the jar desperately, but Kim Il-hong threw himself at him with savage force.
“Ugh!”
Kang Hyung-seok fought to keep the jar, but Kim Il-hong’s strength was inhuman.
Thud!
Kang Hyung-seok shoved him back with his shoulder and drove his foot hard into Kim Il-hong’s chest.
Please—just stay down!
Even as the desperate prayer formed, searing pain shot up from his ankle, and Kang Hyung-seok’s face twisted.
In Kim Il-hong’s hand gleamed a shard of glass, slick with blood.
“Haaagh! Hrraaagh!”
Emitting bestial gasps, Kim Il-hong seized Kang Hyung-seok’s ankle, wrenching at it as though to sever the Achilles tendon itself.
“…Forgive me.”
Crack!
Kang Hyung-seok shifted his foot from Kim Il-hong’s chest to his throat.
“Gack! Hhrrk!”
Choking, Kim Il-hong thrashed, and Kang Hyung-seok clutched the jar and the sacred implement to his chest, waiting for his movements to cease.
Click!
The door swung open, and Yoon Sang entered with a corpse-pale face.
“Hyung—hyung-nim!”
“Restrain Kim Il-hong!”
“Y-yes!”
Yoon Sang hesitated, then turned his gaze toward Kim Il-hong.
The man’s face had swollen to a grotesque crimson, blood vessels burst throughout his eyes, his entire being radiating murderous intent in all directions.
“Hrrk, hrrk!”
Yoon Sang faltered, and Kang Hyung-seok squeezed his eyes shut, pressing down harder on Kim Il-hong’s throat.
The pressure point lay where the carotid artery ascended toward the brain.
As he bore down on that spot, Kim Il-hong’s consciousness swiftly dimmed and faded.
“Hhrgh! Hck, hhrgh…”
Yoon Sang, seized by terror, gasped roughly, while Kang Hyung-seok’s lips trembled.
I felt as though I might lose my mind.
Such pure resentment was not something one encountered easily.
“Hyung-nim, I… what do I do?”
“Hold onto Kim Il-hong.”
Unable to burden the panicked Yoon Sang with greater worry, Kang Hyung-seok spoke as calmly as he could manage.
Then he carried the jar as far away from Kim Il-hong as possible.
My feet felt heavy.
Squelch, squelch.
The wound must have been cut deep.
Even as I tried to endure it, my leg dragged, and I could feel blood pouring forth.
‘Guardian Spirit.’
Is there no answer?
How can this be resolved?
Is sealing this jar and hiding it in a place untouched by human hands truly the only solution?
Squelch, squelch.
Please, speak to me.
Guide me.
Hear the plea of your disciple.
Thunk.
Kang Hyung-seok set down the jar and exhaled deeply.
Then, grasping the ritual blade and Shaman’s Bell, he knelt before the jar, ignoring the pain rising from his legs, and began to recite the sacred incantation.
“Tae Sang No Gun, Seol Ryeong Hwang Myo Jin Gyeong, Tae Sang Won Geuk Dae Do, Tae Sang Sam Sip Yuk Bu Jon Gyeong, Tae Sang No Gun, Ok Hwang Dae Je, Hu To Jon Sin.”
Had I ever beseeched the divine spirits with a heart more earnest than this?
“Buk Geuk Ja Mi Dae Je, Ja Mi Ju Saeng Dae Je, Jwa Ik Jin Gun, Dok Gang Jin Gun, Sam Gwan Jin Gun, Sa Seong Jin Gun, So Jae Jin Gun, Gu Go Jin Gun, Jwa Bo Jin Gun, U Bo Jin Gun.”
Kang Hyung-seok exhaled through his lips and shook the Shaman’s Bell above the jar.
Yet he could not shake it for long before his hand stilled.
“…Huuuh.”
From behind, I felt Yoon Sang’s gaze piercing through the darkness, watching over me.
Still, Kang Hyung-seok could not recite the incantation and instead gazed down at the jar.
“What do you want?”
Then, in a low voice, he spoke to the jar.
It was neither incantation nor the transmission of divine words—it was purely his own will and voice.
“If there is something you desire, I will grant it. If I can ease your resentment, I will listen.”
What dwelt within the Mugho jar was a Vengeful Spirit, and the souls of shamans.
As a shaman himself, Kang Hyung-seok wished to commune with the souls of those shamans.
“Speak.”
It was after Kang Hyung-seok had spoken in a low, heavy voice laden with emotion.
Scratch, scratch.
A finger stretched out from the small opening of the jar.
Fingers extended further and further outward, revealing wrists, and then elbows stretched forth as well.
There was not just one or two arms.
Blackened, decayed limbs tangled with one another as they stretched from the jar, their appearance resembling the growth of tree branches.
Whirrrrrring.
Kang Hyung-seok shook the Shaman’s Bell vigorously, his gaze fixed on the hands stretching upward toward the ceiling.
And soon, one hand reached toward him.
Thud.
The hand covered Kang Hyung-seok’s eyes.
Though not physically real and lacking warmth, a bone-chilling cold was unmistakably transmitted.
“…Brother?”
Yoon Sang, puzzled by Kang Hyung-seok’s motionlessness, asked, and with his eyes covered by the Malevolent Spirit’s hand, Kang Hyung-seok slowly opened his mouth.
Yet no words came, only his lips contorting.
The resentment dwelling in the jar was being revealed through the Vengeful Spirit’s hand.
Thump, thump, thump.
A moonless night.
A woman grinding the mummified corpse of a starved child with a mortar.
She too had been a Shaman.
A Shaman who despised the spirit that had abandoned her and envied other Shamans.
‘Why must only I suffer.’
This is fair.
This is right.
You are wicked.
You are wicked.
You are wicked.
You are the wicked one.
Thump, thump, thump.
She had kidnapped an apprentice from the Neighboring Village who had received a spirit at a young age and hidden them in a Cave, letting them die after terrible suffering.
It was to create a Mugho that would restore her lost spiritual power.
Scrape, scrape!
The woman, scraping the remains of the mortar into a metal box, twisted her eyes while smiling hideously.
Though she had committed a grave sin, she was satisfied that she had created a sacred tool worthy of passing down through generations.
The woman became a renowned Shaman, but died young.
And as time passed, the metal box changed hands.
Splash!
Red blood poured over the metal box.
“Aaaahhh!”
A skeletal woman with severed arms screamed, and a man wielding a large blade used for slaughtering livestock swung it again.
Slash! Crack! Thud! Squelch! Snap!
The man who had hacked the woman trembled violently.
Then he frantically scraped blood from the woman’s corpse and sprinkled it onto the metal box.
Like scooping up gold dust swept away by waves, his movements were desperate and urgent.
“Heh, hehehe! Hahahaha!”
The man who had killed someone clutched the box to himself with satisfaction and began to flee.
That man was Park Su.
He was the descendant of the woman who first created the Vengeful Spirit, the inheritor of Shamanism and the metal box.
As time passed, the box changed hands to different owners.
And with each transfer, the number of victims only grew.
-They killed us.
A clear, low murmur reached Kang Hyung-seok’s ears.
-That bastard killed us.
-That thing killed me.
-That bastard killed her and killed me and killed him.
-Crush me and burn him and sever his neck and cut his flesh and slit his throat and.
-Tear out the tongue and pluck out the eyes and flay the skin and.
-Drive a chisel into the head and drive a chisel into the eyes and drive a chisel into the chisel and drive a chisel into the heart and.
Each rapid murmur was the lament of the spirits.
The resentment bound to the jar was vast and profound.
They were the cruel ones who had sacrificed others for their own gain.
-We must kill them.
-We will repay even a single drop of mixed blood.
-Those who touched me too.
-Those who saw me.
-Those who knew me.
-We will tear their ears and tear their brains and tear their heads and tear their necks and drive a chisel into their heads three times, bang bang bang, until they weep tears of blood.
Greed that transcended generations had created this jar.
And once it became something uncontrollable, its owners had no choice but to hide it.
Squelch.
As the Malevolent Spirit’s hand released, the surroundings returned to darkness, transforming back into the moldy interior of the house.
Kang Hyung-seok swallowed silently, his throat dry.
Whether from prolonged contact with the jar, his saliva tasted of iron.
“Did Kim Il-hong’s younger sister, Kim Il-ju, also know about the jar?”
Kim Il-ju had driven an iron stake into Mother’s Grave.
Could that act have been intended to sever the bloodline?
Was it not a curse upon her mother, but rather a desperate struggle not to be consumed by the jar’s existence?
-She’s a Shaman.
A chilling voice echoed right beside his ear.
-A Shaman, a Shaman, a Shaman, a Shaman.
-I died by a Shaman’s hand, so how could a Shaman escape unscathed?
-You’re a Shaman too.
-This one is also a Shaman.
-He’s been chosen by a spirit.
-A Shaman. He’s a Shaman. So he’s a Shaman.
Kang Hyung-seok exhaled breath that froze white in the cold air.
Yoon Sang still cast a terrified gaze, but Kang Hyung-seok merely stared down at the jar with a conflicted expression.
These Victim Spirits possessed malevolent and fearsome natures, yet ultimately had no choice but to harbor resentment.
What they desired was not salvation.
Only blood.
Whirrrring.
Kang Hyung-seok shook the Shaman’s Bell before setting his hand down.
He placed the Shaman’s Bell beside the jar and instead drew the ritual blade.
“…Hyung-nim?”
Yoon Sang gasped in alarm as Kang Hyung-seok brought the ritual blade to his left forearm. “Wait, Hyung-nim. What are you trying to do?”
“This seems to be the only way.”
“No, Hyung-nim, wait. What are you doing right now?”
Kang Hyung-seok’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at the arms extending from the jar.
“Since their desire runs so deep, I must first appease it.”
As one gives water to the thirsty.
As one gives food to the hungry.
To soothe these raging resentful spirits, I had to give them what they craved.
A Shaman’s blood.
“Though this offering may not fully satisfy them.”
Kang Hyung-seok placed his left hand above the jar and repositioned the ritual blade.
“Take this to fill that ravenous hunger and soothe your long-harbored resentment.”
Then he drove the blade’s edge into his forearm.
Sizzle.
As the blade pierced his skin, crimson blood flowed forth.
And the Shaman Kang Hyung-seok’s blood poured down into the jar in thick drops.

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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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