An Office Worker Is Good At Exorcism - Chapter 296

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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 296
Part 2. There Are Certainly Many Strange People (1)
Ding.
Kang Hyung-seok pulled his phone from his pocket.
Beneath the crystalline sky, a desolate and sorrowful atmosphere had taken root like a stain embedded in marble.
There was no helping it.
After all, there was no such thing as a pleasant crematorium in this world.
“Yes, Manager.”
(Right, Manager Kang. Can you talk right now?)
“Yes. We’re proceeding as we speak.”
(Oh my, tsk tsk tsk.)
The compassion in Gwak Young-ho’s voice wasn’t solely because he knew the deceased was an acquaintance from the same cathedral as Shin Yoseph.
All death evokes compassion.
Even when the hardship of living in this world has dulled one’s sensibilities and made them coarse, the death of someone just beyond reach leaves a bitter taste in one’s mouth.
Because I know that one day, this could happen to me as well.
(Still, it’s a blessing in disguise. Since you know someone like Director Shin.)
It was a remark that stirred empathy, so Kang Hyung-seok smiled bitterly.
(I heard he had no family connections, no relatives at all, but since Director Shin is looking after him, what a relief that is.)
“I think so too.”
(Is Director Shin there with you?)
“No. He’s inside.”
(Good, take good care of him. Even if he says he has no appetite, make sure you eat together.)
“Understood. I’ll do exactly that.”
(Will you come back to the office once everything is done?)
“I should, Manager.”
The exorcism ritual was complete.
The deceased, who had found no peace even in death, could now finally move on to a place of tranquility.
I knew better than anyone that it was time for everything to return to its proper place.
(If you think you’ll be late, don’t bother calling me separately. Just handle it as you see fit, alright? You know.)
“No. I should still go to the office.”
(Caring for the clients of our major business partners is part of your duties as Manager Kang.)
That wasn’t wrong.
But perhaps things would be a little better now than before.
Kang Hyung-seok looked back at the building housing the crematorium, his eyes heavy with thought.
Shin Yoseph was inside that building.
And he seemed like he would become a little more, just a little more at peace.
The object of the guilt that had weighed upon his heart had instead comforted him, understood him, and affirmed him.
Father Leo harbored no resentment toward Shin Yoseph.
“Yes.”
(Good. Then hang in there until the very end!)
“Understood, Manager.”
As the call ended, I slipped my phone into my pocket.
Then, with both hands buried in my pockets, I stared at the building where the cremation was underway.
“I hope you’ve found some peace.”
Please, let it be so.
Let them no longer live like the living dead, trapped between worlds.
I could only hope—and hope again.
Zing.
I pulled my phone from my pocket at the sound, exhaling a long, weary breath through my nose.
Then I turned my steps toward the building.
But before I could reach it, Shin Yoseph emerged, carrying the urn.
“Already? That was quick.”
“I’m efficient.”
Shin Yoseph carried the urn, following the Factory Employee’s guidance as he walked.
Since he wasn’t a family member, there was no formal procedure requiring him to carry a portrait of the deceased.
Still, Shin Yoseph moved with deliberate reverence in each step, following the employee toward the designated space for the urn’s placement.
He set the urn carefully in its place, the glass door was locked, and Shin Yoseph and I stood before it in silent prayer.
“It’s all finished now, right?”
I understood the unspoken weight behind Shin Yoseph’s question.
Having already surveyed the surroundings, I nodded solemnly.
“It’s a good place. Nothing to fault, and the deceased can rest in peace.”
“If you say so, then it must be.”
Shin Yoseph gazed long at the urn beyond the transparent glass.
A person who had suffered at the hands of the Demon twice—both in life and in death.
Hoping they could finally find ease, Shin Yoseph offered a brief prayer, then withdrew a photograph from his pocket and slipped it into the glass frame.
It wasn’t a portrait of the deceased.
Instead, it was the most worn and handled of the Polaroid photographs the deceased had taken.
And it wasn’t even a photograph of a person—just a natural landscape.
“Sigh.”
Shin Yoseph exhaled deeply, then turned away with the expression of someone whose work was done.
“Let’s go. I’m hungry.”
“There’s a decent restaurant here. Let’s go together.”
“No thanks. Let’s get something good. You worked hard enough last night.”
Shin Yoseph walked ahead, his bearing unchanged from usual.
I nodded slightly and fell into step beside him.
Thunk.
After I climbed into Shin Yoseph’s car and fastened my seatbelt.
“What should we eat? Korean? Chinese? Western?”
“Anywhere on the way is fine.”
“Let’s see what’s around.”
Shin Yoseph began driving as if he had never experienced anything at all.
Everything was as it always had been.
From the forced composure to the sunglasses he wore while driving—it was all different now.
But there was certainly something that had changed.
The sorrow that could not be hidden even behind sunglasses now appeared greatly diluted.
I knew the reason why.
Salvation was nothing grand.
It could be accomplished through a single word from someone, a single gesture of care.
Kang Hyung-seok turned his gaze through the passenger window.
In the transparent glass, only Shin Yoseph was reflected inside the car.
Father Leo was not there.
But it didn’t matter.
‘If that is what you have chosen, then may you find peace.’
I had heard what Father Leo said.
He said he would now be with Shin Yoseph.
Perhaps that was why Shin Yoseph seemed more at ease than before.
If there came a moment when help was needed, if a time came again to face the Demon.
Father Leo would now be with Shin Yoseph.
Vroom.
As if a heavy burden had vanished, Shin Yoseph’s car glided lightly down the Road.
***
Creak.
The Mountain Cabin door opened, its hinges shrieking in protest.
Cold, dry air rushed forward as if to drive out the intruder, but the man who opened the door stepped inside with a cigarette between his lips.
Click, inhale.
“Phew—!”
Behind Hong Kyung-soo, who exhaled a long plume of smoke, stood his Dharma Master.
Both wore long padded coats and thick gloves, yet the bone-chilling cold that seeped through was unavoidable.
This was no ordinary space.
“Damn, this is rough.”
Hong Kyung-soo muttered a curse, his lips moving as he tapped the interior of the Mountain Cabin with his foot.
“Was it necessary to come here?”
The Dharma Master asked with a face that suggested this space was dreadful, but Hong Kyung-soo focused on surveying the interior of the Mountain Cabin, chewing on his cigarette filter.
“Has there been any word from that side?”
“He barely survived. He’s already been discharged from the hospital.”
“After conducting a Ritual Ceremony Ground in a place like this, merely clinging to life is something to be grateful for to the heavens and earth. Tell him to take good care of himself.”
“Yes.”
A suffocating Shaman indeed.
He had risked his life for something that would yield not a single coin, merely because he had seen a priest asking for help in a dream a few times.
He had blind faith in his own abilities.
“What a foolish bastard. Tsk.”
It had been a stupid choice.
Had I sought help from Lee Geum-kyung or the Shaman Association instead, I wouldn’t be in this predicament now.
But who was there to blame?
The problem lay in my own myopic judgment—failing to discern what kind of place this truly was.
Sigh.
Hong Kyung-soo, who had been smoking, rolled his tongue against the foreign sensation in his mouth.
Then, facing north, he spat three times, and on the final spit, something came out mixed with the saliva.
An insect’s leg.
“Brother…?”
“Stay right there.”
Hong Kyung-soo retrieved a Shaman’s Bell from his pocket—the kind worn on the finger.
He slipped it onto his bare hand, looked up at the ceiling, and shook the bell.
“Joongseong-da-gyeol-won won-sim-nan-hae-gyeol il-se-gyeol-seong-won.”
The Dharma Master pressed his palms together and bowed his head, while Hong Kyung-soo continued with the resolution mantra used to appease grudges.
“Sam-se-bo-bu-heol a-geum-jeon-mo-beop hae-je-je-won-eop mun-song-ji-sim-eun won-ga-ja-san-mel.”
Because the stale miasma lingering inside the Mountain Cabin was potent, Hong Kyung-soo repeated the incantation twice more.
As he chanted the mantra as if completely cleansing the interior, the air inside grew noticeably lighter than before.
Whoosh.
Yet Hong Kyung-soo, his face rigid, advanced toward the center of the Mountain Cabin.
“Damn it. As always, nothing ever deviates from my expectations.”
Creak.
At the center of the Mountain Cabin.
Standing at the spot where the coffin had been, Hong Kyung-soo pressed down on the floor with his weight.
Creak-creak.
The floor depressed as if hollow beneath.
“Bring me the tools.”
“Huh?”
“I said bring the tools.”
Hong Kyung-soo, neither angry nor raising his voice, threw his cigarette to the floor and extinguished it.
When the Dharma Master returned from outside the Mountain Cabin with a pickaxe, Hong Kyung-soo took it without even removing the Shaman’s Bell.
Crack! Smash!
As Hong Kyung-soo tore into the floor without hesitation, the Dharma Master understood why he had brought the pickaxe all the way up here.
It was faintly perceptible.
Something existed beneath.
“Get out!”
“Yes, yes.”
After the Dharma Master hurried out of the Mountain Cabin and shut the door behind him, Hong Kyung-soo focused on smashing the floor with the pickaxe.
As he was scraping away at the floor.
Crack-crack!
The completely shattered plywood fell away, revealing what lay beneath.
A dark pit opened before us, but there was nothing unusual about that in itself.
One could argue the ground had been dug deep to prevent cold air from rising.
However, if that were the sole purpose, what lay below should never have been visible.
A Buddha statue with a broken neck rested in the depths.
Its torso was painted with crimson lacquer, adorned with intricate symbols.
Below it lay a horizontal figure eight, and above that, a Leviathan Cross—a cross with an additional horizontal line transforming the symbol into something far more sinister.
“Ha.”
Hong Kyung-soo’s lips twisted as he stared at the headless Buddha statue.
“Ha, haha! Hahaha! Hahahaha!”
Hong Kyung-soo laughed like a man possessed by madness.
His body convulsed with laughter, his mouth spread wide enough to bare his canine teeth.
Yet his eyes held no mirth—only a chilling, murderous gleam that lingered within them.
Not a trace of laughter touched his gaze.

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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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