An Office Worker Is Good At Exorcism - Chapter 300

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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 299
Part 3. Life Has Ended, But the Problem Remains Alive (2)
Vroom.
The next day.
After settling lunch at the Company Cafeteria, Kang Hyung-seok greeted Gwak Young-ho and left the office.
Gwak Young-ho’s unusually warm words of farewell were likely due to the pretext of an appointment with Shin Yoseph.
But in reality, that wasn’t the case.
Ring.
Just as a call came through from Shin Yoseph, I answered while keeping my focus on driving.
“Yeah.”
(You got the email this morning, right?)
“I was surprised. I didn’t think it would happen this fast.”
(It was easy.)
Last night, I’d called Shin Yoseph and asked him to investigate.
The cause of death of the dead son and the location.
And his growth process and what kind of person he was.
Even about the Biological Mother and the Aunt.
(Those two will take some time. Still, I’ll put what I’ve found out so far in an email later.)
“Thanks. Sorry for asking so suddenly.”
(That’s fine. But what kind of mess have you gotten yourself into this time?)
“It’s obvious. I’m caught in a dispute between the person who raised me and the person who gave birth to me.”
Rumble.
The traffic light had turned red, so I slowed down, and the engine noise—which had grown oddly louder lately—filled the car interior with a melancholy sound.
(You were driving?)
“Yeah. I’m heading to the place you told me about.”
(You’ve got it rough. Even lying to the Manager.)
“Sigh—”
Since I was genuinely feeling guilty, Shin Yoseph’s joke didn’t land lightly.
(Sighing, huh? Well, considering what happened last time, I’ll make sure your performance numbers are solid. Don’t worry about it.)
“Thanks.”
(Thanks, my ass. I’m going to work you hard later, so be prepared.)
“That separate investigation you mentioned—how’s that going?”
(Still looking into it. But overall, something feels off.)
“In what way?”
(That Mountain Cabin we went to before—the floor’s been completely dug up.)
“…What?”
My brows furrowed at the unexpected turn of conversation.
(There’s a hollow space underneath, but there’s nothing there. But there are definitely signs that something was excavated. Doesn’t that seem suspicious to you?)
“It does seem strange.”
(No, you’ve got enough on your plate right now.)
Shin Yoseph sighed and continued.
(Hang in there. It’ll be tough, but you can do it.)
“Shin Yoseph.”
(What?)
“If you ever need someone to accompany you, just say the word. I’ll repay the debt I owe you from this whole situation.”
Shin Yoseph let out a snort.
Yet there was no sense of ridicule in it.
It was the feeling that this guy certainly knew how to conduct himself, and so I was able to end the call without any particular retort.
Vroom.
As the traffic light turned green, I accelerated.
Damn, is it because it’s winter? There’s been so much noise lately.
I ran my hand across the dashboard with a bitter expression, then focused intently on driving with a serious face.
Vroom!
I was heading toward the scene of an accident.
Heading toward the place where someone had died.
Going to help a Victim Spirit I had no prior acquaintance with and whose name I didn’t even know, while several people united in purpose were lending their hands.
Perhaps there was some pitiful circumstance I wasn’t aware of, and that’s what moved me to compassion.
Crunch.
As I left the city, the de-icer beneath my wheels made an unpleasant sound, as if by some ghostly force.
I sipped my coffee and followed the navigation’s guidance, and just as I was getting quite close to my destination—the Reservoir—
Ring!
Lee Ha-yoon called me.
Click.
I pressed the answer button, but no greeting like “Hello” or “Yes?” came through.
(Yes, that’s fine.)
Instead, the voice of her Biological Mother that I’d heard yesterday flowed through.
Since the incoming call was from Lee Ha-yoon’s office phone rather than her mobile, it seemed they were transmitting the audio in real-time.
Click.
I muted my microphone, and I could hear the sound of a chair being pulled back with a scrape, followed by Lee Ha-yoon’s voice.
(Please have a seat here. And as I mentioned just now, today’s consultation is being recorded, and the contents may be shared with external collaborators for case review. You’re in agreement with this, correct?)
(…Yes. But do you always go to this extent?)
(Not always, but when necessary, we do proceed this way.)
It was a procedure to avoid any unfounded accusations.
I marveled at how Lee Ha-yoon had obtained consent even before the consultation began, staring at my phone.
But since the consultation had only just started, no substantive discussion had taken place yet; instead, only pleasantries like whether the coffee was acceptable were exchanged.
Vroom.
『You will arrive at your destination shortly.』
I looked around at my surroundings.
The destination pointed to the Reservoir, and it gave the impression of being a somewhat remote location.
My questions grew.
Why had she come all the way here only to meet with an accident?
What possible reason could there be—in the depths of winter, at the Reservoir?
Click.
Stepping out of the silent car, I grabbed the bag containing the Shaman’s Bell and made my way toward the Reservoir.
As I walked, I inserted a Bluetooth earbud into my ear, and the conversation from the Office that Lee Ha-yoon was relaying came through with such vivid clarity that I could almost feel the atmosphere itself.
(You came quite late after the accident occurred. Is there a particular reason?)
(…I didn’t know.)
(You didn’t know?)
(That’s right.)
Crunch, crunch.
From a slightly elevated vantage point, I gazed down at the Reservoir sprawling beneath my feet.
Recently, there had been quite a few days when the temperature climbed above freezing.
As a result, though ice still clung to the Reservoir’s surface, the patches were small and scattered—the exposed water far too abundant.
‘A car accident.’
Scanning the surroundings, I spotted a tree with a snapped trunk nearby.
I clicked my tongue softly and turned my steps in that direction.
(That woman—she’s a vicious one. She deserves to be torn to shreds.)
The Biological Mother’s voice, dripping with hatred, cut through me more sharply than the biting wind.
(May I ask the reason?)
(That woman, the Aunt—when my husband died, she unilaterally took my son away. And now she’s caused this disaster.)
Was this hatred genuine?
Or was it an act?
Standing beside the broken tree, I withdrew the Shaman’s Bell.
Ting-a-ling.
I shook the Shaman’s Bell, and a peculiar odor brushed past my nose.
It resembled the scent that had lingered in my mouth when I’d encountered the Son’s Spirit last night.
‘A medicinal smell…?’
Repulsed by the acrid stench that invaded even my mouth, I spat and turned my steps toward the Reservoir.
My ankles sank deep into the thickly accumulated fallen leaves, and the slope was so steep it felt as though I were wading into a marsh.
Whoosh! Crack!
As I slid sharply toward the Reservoir, I grabbed hold of a nearby tree.
As I furrowed my brow, the Biological Mother’s voice continued.
(I regret it. I shouldn’t have been deceived by that silver tongue back then….)
(What… happened?)
(She said how could I raise a child alone without a father, that she would look after the child, and to bring him to her when I was ready.)
(Didn’t you say before that he was taken from you?)
(He was taken! That woman moved away without a word and wouldn’t let me see the child!)
From the middle of the slope, I observed the Reservoir with ice drifting upon its surface.
Then I looked up at the broken tree, and my gaze shifted back to the Reservoir.
Should I climb up, or descend?
After a brief moment of hesitation, I released the branch I’d been gripping.
Crackle!
My feet slipped of their own accord, sliding down toward the reservoir.
(I should never have trusted her. I should never have entrusted the child to that woman.)
As if she’d completely forgotten about the recording, the Biological Mother’s voice carried an emotion so thick and palpable it was almost suffocating.
Reaching the reservoir, which appeared to have considerable depth, I lowered my posture and reduced my sliding speed.
(Then what does it mean that you want to recover even 2 million won?)
(Because I never saw the child in life. Because that child is all he left behind in this world.)
Crackle!
Standing directly before the reservoir, I held the Shaman’s Bell in one hand while extending my other hand toward the water.
And the moment my hand reached the deep water.
Splash!
The Shaman’s Bell rang out.
(Even though I couldn’t raise him, he’s my child.)
(Excuse me, Mother.)
(…Yes.)
(Why do you only refer to him as a child?)
(What?)
(You haven’t mentioned your son’s name once since earlier.)
The surroundings grew as quiet as the heavy silence that fell.
The wind ceased, the sun darkened, and night descended.
The location changed as well, shifting from outdoors to an interior space.
(What kind of circumstances could she be dealing with?)
With Ha Yoon’s voice as the final thread, I was completely cast into a different scene.
“Jin-u.”
It was the Aunt’s voice.
The child was merely seven years old.
A boy whose face still faintly retained the features of the young man who had been the Victim Spirit.
“Jin-u? Mom’s calling you. You need to answer.”
I shifted my gaze to the child whose back was turned to me inside the house.
“Jin-u!”
When the Aunt raised her voice in anger, the child turned his head.
“I’m not Jin-u!”
“You are Jin-u. You’re Jin-u now. Not Kim Young-jin—you’re Kim Jin-u!”
“I’m Kim Young-jin!”
The Aunt’s face hardened rigidly.
Venom gleamed in her eyes, and silent curses spilled from her slightly parted lips.
“I said you’re Jin-u!”
“I’m Young-jin!”
“You’re Kim Jin-u! Kim Jin-u!”
The Aunt glanced around the room, then picked up a short broom.
She grabbed the Child Spirit by the shoulder and dragged him toward her with savage force, then struck viciously at his legs below the knee.
Crack! Thwack!
“Aaaah! Aaaaagh!”
This was not the sound of striking a child.
I reached out to stop her, but the Aunt lashed out with the broom, striking my hand as well.
Crack!
The child’s hand had taken the blow wrong, fracturing bone, and from his mouth poured a wretched scream while thick tears streamed from his eyes.
“Aaaaagh!”
Thwack! Thwack!
“Who! Young-jin, right? Who!”
Crack! Crack! Crack!
“You’re Kim Jin-u! Kim Jin-u! Do you understand? Huh!”
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Each time the child collapsed, the Aunt forcibly lifted him back to his feet, and when he fell again, she raised him once more, all while bringing the broom down repeatedly against his calves.
This was not discipline—it was unilateral abuse.
The cruel violence continued for some time before it finally ceased.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
The Child Spirit rubbed his palms together frantically, sobbing toward the Aunt.
“I’ll be Jin-u. I’ll be Jin-u. Please forgive me.”
“Huff… huff…”
“I’ll be Jin-u. Waaaah.”
The Aunt set down the broom.
Then she pulled Young-jin—now transformed into Jin-u—into a tight embrace and stroked his hair tenderly.
“That’s right, Mom is sorry. I’m truly sorry.”
Because I had achieved possession, Kang Hyung-seok’s mind absorbed Jin-u’s thoughts.
She’s not Mom.
Yet fear sealed his lips, and Kim Jin-u could only weep, coughing as he did.
“Tomorrow, let’s go to the Hospital with Mom, okay? You understand, right?”
It was then.
My gaze shifted to the Aunt’s pocket.
Her back pocket.
A piece of paper jutted out from the small pocket, folded multiple times, yet the characters were still legible.
Child injury insurance.
Kang Hyung-seok looked at the Aunt’s face with an expression of disbelief.
Then, as though I had witnessed something filthy, I furrowed my brow and clenched my teeth.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. My dear Jin-u, Mom is sorry.”
How could she speak such words with such an expression?
The Aunt’s eyes glistened with greed as she smiled with a chilling, grotesque grin.

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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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