An Office Worker Is Good At Exorcism - Chapter 340

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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 340
Part 2. What Did You Do Here? (2)
Vroom.
Inside the car heading toward the Vinyl Factory, Kang Hyung-seok exhaled a heavy sigh.
Sweat seeped inexplicably from the palm gripping the steering wheel, and his index finger couldn’t stay still, tapping restlessly against it.
‘What on earth could it be?’
My mood was unsettled.
Displeasure? Perhaps unease.
The name Kim San kept circling in my mind, but what troubled me more was a scent brushing against my nose.
Incense.
Swish.
Kang Hyung-seok unconsciously touched his nose, unable to discern whether this was something real or something his spiritual guide was conveying to him.
The scent of incense was far too vivid.
Ding.
Suddenly his phone rang, and Kang Hyung-seok, driving along a quiet road with rice paddies stretching on either side, raised his finger to answer the call.
“Yes, Manager.”
(Director, ah, ah, I’m losing my mind. I’m so sorry about this.)
“Yes?”
Since this was a scheduled meeting, Cha Byung-gun shouldn’t be reacting this way.
Kang Hyung-seok furrowed his brow and slowed the car’s speed, as Cha Byung-gun’s flustered voice hurried on.
(The Honorary Director is here, and he’s called a Shaman without consulting me first. They’re about to start a ritual ceremony—it’s complete chaos.)
“A ritual ceremony?”
(I heard he’s someone who trained in the Way at Gyeryongsan Mountain. Anyway, that’s not the important part. It doesn’t seem like a situation where we can hold a meeting. I’m terribly sorry, but would it be possible to postpone the meeting?)
Kang Hyung-seok released a silent sigh.
I wanted to verify whether this Shaman was a legitimate practitioner.
If they weren’t a business partner, I would have accelerated immediately and certainly done so.
But this was the partner’s matter, the company’s matter.
If the Shaman, without reading the room, froze or showed hesitation upon seeing Kang Hyung-seok, strange rumors would inevitably spread.
“There’s no helping it. I’ll spend the time nearby anyway. I’d appreciate it if you could call me once everything is finished.”
(I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Sigh…)
“Not at all. And frankly, I think this works out well.”
(Yes?)
“I was hesitant to mention it, but I was also considering a ritual ceremony. Since you’ve done it first, it seems fortunate.”
Most ritual ceremonies are loud.
Thinking about it coldly, even a spirit-guiding ritual—which doesn’t need to be noisy—proceeds chaotically.
While there’s meaning in summoning a Victim Spirit who drowned, it also serves the living.
Loud drums, gongs, wind instruments.
A noisily conducted ritual ceremony imparts to the living the awareness that something is being done.
In a factory where ghosts appear and people have died, a ritual ceremony can reassure the employees.
(…Was that so.)
“I’m fine, so please don’t worry too much.”
As Kang Hyung-seok offered words of comfort instead, Cha Byung-gun sighed as if he were dying of remorse.
(Sigh, oh my! Understood. Then, please spend some time at a cafe or somewhere like that, and I’ll contact you right away once everything is finished.)
“Yes.”
(And one more thing.)
It was right after Kang Hyung-seok raised his hand to end the call and shifted his gaze to his phone.
(I know it’s not polite to say this, but I feel a bit more at ease knowing that the new manager is a manager.)
Kang Hyung-seok laughed bitterly so the sound wouldn’t carry.
“What are you talking about?”
(I know you care a lot. In many ways, you’ve been someone I can rely on.)
Cha Byung-gun spoke in a voice tinged with bitterness, and immediately ended the call with words about seeing each other later.
In the now-silent car, Kang Hyung-seok slowed his speed even further.
Suddenly, time had become unmoored.
If I had been an ordinary sales employee, I probably would have gone to a sauna at a time like this, or spent the time looking at my phone at a cafe.
Perhaps I might have even pulled over on the shoulder and tried to sleep.
I had a slight desire to do such things as well.
Beep.
『Navigation starting.』
But instead of taking rest, I reset the navigation’s destination.
‘Kim San.’
That person’s residence isn’t far from here.
Let me go. Let me at least try to go there.
I had heard from Lee Ha-yoon that Kim San was probably dead, but strangely, the urge to verify that place kept welling up inside me.
Zip!
I unzipped the bag placed on the passenger seat and pulled out the Shaman’s Bell and the spirit-slaying blade, then took a sip of coffee from the tumbler I had prepared.
Then I began driving toward the newly set destination.
『You will arrive at your destination shortly. Navigation ending.』
Crunch.
As I slowed down, the sound of tires crushing dirt grew loud.
I turned the steering wheel sharply and pulled onto the shoulder, got out of the car, and fixed my gaze on the house visible in the distance.
That was Kim San’s house.
Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof!
Suddenly, the sound of a dog barking shattered the silence and filled the air with an eerie resonance.
Don’t come.
Don’t come.
Let no one come.
As if speaking those words, the dog barked with a chilling intensity.
Yet Kang Hyung-seok slowly began to approach where the dog was.
I held the Shaman’s Bell and the spirit-slaying blade together in one hand.
***
At that same moment, preparations for the ritual ceremony were nearing completion at the Vinyl Factory.
Flap, flap!
Beneath flags billowing in the wind, an assistant to the Shaman held mulberry paper in his mouth while sharpening the blade of a guillotine with a whetstone.
Each time the water-soaked whetstone passed over the guillotine, an eerie, chilling scraping sound echoed out, and beneath the blade, a puddle of black water mixed with metal shavings accumulated.
There were twelve such guillotines.
One Shaman dressed in ornate ceremonial robes.
Six Musicians in total, positioned with flutes, transverse flutes, fiddles, hand drums, and bass drums.
“Is this right?”
“Keep quiet. It’s not even our money going out.”
The Factory Employees clustered in front exchanged whispers in hushed tones, but fell silent when they caught the Shaman’s piercing gaze.
The ritual ceremony hadn’t even properly begun yet.
Still, the heavy atmosphere that settled over the space stemmed from words the Shaman had spoken.
I need to prepare this properly.
With just that one statement, the guillotines increased to twelve, and the Musicians, originally four, expanded to six.
Clank, clank!
Guillotines were installed one by one on a metal structure vaguely resembling stairs, and all the Musicians took their positions, completing their preparations to begin the ritual.
“Shiiiii-!”
The ritual commenced with the seasoned Shaman’s deep breath.
Piping sounds! Clanging! Booming, thudding!
This was a ritual ceremony visible not only to Victim Spirits and Malevolent Spirits, but to the living as well.
Flames rose from the Kiln, flags fluttered in the wind, and grim determination settled across the Musicians’ faces.
As several Factory Employees—some who had never witnessed a Ritual Ceremony Ground in their lives—felt their expressions stiffen, the Shaman stepped onto the first guillotine.
“Ugh.”
One of the Factory Employees, worried that something might go wrong, let out a groan, but not a single drop of blood appeared on the Shaman’s feet.
Piping sounds-! Thud! Thud!
“Keep the rhythm steady!”
The Shaman shouted loudly, and one of the Musicians responded with “Yes, sir!” while striking the drum with greater force.
Then the Shaman stepped onto the next guillotine, ascending as if climbing stairs.
***
Woof, woof, woof, woof—!
As Kang Hyung-seok drew closer to the house, the Guard Dog’s barking grew louder, piercing through the air with increasing intensity.
The viciousness of its snarling sent chills down my spine just hearing it.
Yet there was something I needed to verify, so I fixed my gaze on the Old House and moved forward slowly.
Ding.
Why was the Shaman’s Bell ringing on its own?
And why was the scent of incense growing stronger?
Rubbing my nose, I approached the Old House whose outer walls had cement peeling away in patches, and as I pushed through the undergrowth, the Guard Dog came into view.
Woof, woof, woof, woof!
That dog dripping saliva from its mouth was no ordinary beast.
Its body was pitch black and its face large, but its ears were flat—it was a type of fighting dog.
Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!
Upon spotting me, the Guard Dog barked with eyes gleaming, and I stopped in my tracks and opened my mouth.
“By the supreme words of the Yellow Heaven, the Yellow Earth resides.”
That was when it happened.
The dog fell silent.
Then it stared at me with eyes as if possessed by a Malevolent Spirit.
“Sun and moon aligned, spirits of the sacred respond, celestial immortals heed, command spirits obey, Great Tai Yi hear me, Jade Immortal guide, three officials protect.”
In the now-quiet surroundings of the house, I picked up the Shaman’s Bell.
Then I shook it lightly and took another step forward.
“Who are you!”
Suddenly, a metallic roar from behind seized my attention.
The dog turned its head as if ready to lunge, while behind me came the sound of undergrowth being parted and angry footsteps.
“Who the hell are you! Speak, you bastard!”
Crash!
Despite the sound of something falling, the man strode forward, and I drew my ritual blade.
Shing.
As I lifted the scabbard upward with my thumb, I could see the man’s reflection in the blade’s mirror-smooth surface.
A man in tattered clothes was approaching with a sickle raised in one hand and his eyes rolled back.
Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!
The Guard Dog began barking fiercely right in front of me.
But the man approaching was far more threatening, so I turned my head.
My gaze was sharper than the sickle in the man’s hand.
***
Boom, boom, boom, boom! Shrill, shrill, shrill!
As the drum and flute sounds crescendoed further, the Shaman had climbed up to the sixth of the twelve sword blades.
Having fully received the divine spirit, the Shaman swayed his body up and down as if dancing upon the blades, his arms cutting through the air.
The sword blades of a blade-dancing Shaman are no ordinary objects.
They are symbols of severing malevolent spirits and sacred instruments that allow communion with divine beings.
This is why a blade-dancing Shaman can ascend the blades without sustaining a single wound upon his body.
Shrill, shrill, shrill! Shrill, shrill, shrill, boom, boom, boom!
The sounds of traditional instruments grew more intense, and the flags dancing in the wind swayed as if they might be torn away at any moment.
The workers at the Vinyl Factory watched with bated breath as the Shaman climbed ever higher, while the Musicians played their instruments as if pouring their very souls into them.
Everything appeared to be proceeding smoothly and peacefully.
Shrill, shrill, shrill! Boom, boom, boom, boom! Clang, clang, clang!
Suddenly, the Shaman stopped.
It was an unnatural movement, as if a video had been abruptly paused.
It was at this moment that the employees, sensing something amiss, could not open their mouths and busily exchanged glances with one another.
“Uh….”
One young Factory Employee, flustered, pointed toward the Shaman’s feet.
Drip, drip.
Blood was flowing down from the sword blades where they met the Shaman’s feet.
As if signaling that the ritual had gone wrong, it was an unnaturally vivid crimson.

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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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