An Office Worker Is Good At Exorcism - Chapter 74

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 73
Part 1. Do Not Dismiss Dreams (1)
Tap! Tap-tap! Tap!
The sound was loud—desperately, urgently loud.
Kang Hyung-seok’s eyes snapped open, and from the threshold between dream and waking, I traced the source of the noise.
Tap! Tap! Tap-tap! Tap!
The sound was coming from the curtained window.
It was daytime, and there was no sense of spiritual presence.
Yet Kang Hyung-seok felt a faint, ominous energy and moved slowly toward the window.
The moment I yanked the curtain open—
Flap-flap-flap!
A raven clinging to the outside of the window beat its wings and took flight. It circled once through the air before vanishing from sight.
“What the…?”
Everything felt strange from the moment I woke until now.
Though my sleep had certainly been broken, I sat on the edge of the bed with a sour expression.
The Guardian Spirit I’d seen in the dream.
The way it had cut down Changgwi.
The sword hilt turned toward me.
‘Was it just a dream? No, it was too vivid for that.’
An ordinary dream would have evaporated the moment I woke, its contents dissolving like mist.
But this dream remained etched clearly in my memory.
In times like these, the best course was to seek advice from someone who could help.
Click, click, click, click.
I found Chung-geum’s contact in my phone and immediately pressed the call button.
(Young Master, is that you?)
Chung-geum answered as if she’d been waiting, her voice bright and welcoming.
“Yes. How have you been?”
(Oh, I’m managing as always. What brings this on?)
“Is the teacher there, by any chance?”
(Ah… she’s not here at the moment.)
“I see. She hasn’t returned yet?”
(No. There’s no telling when she will.)
Kang Hyung-seok’s face fell with disappointment.
Lee Geum-kyung was always busy.
I’d called Chung-geum instead of contacting her directly.
But the fact that she still hadn’t returned bothered me.
‘She must have a lot on her plate.’
It had been only days since we’d gone down together for the funeral.
Lee Geum-kyung had come back up alone, saying she had matters to attend to, and several more days had passed since then.
I’d thought she would have returned by now, but Lee Geum-kyung remained unreachable—still tied up with unfinished business down there.
(What’s troubling you? Is something urgent?)
“No, it’s not urgent.”
(If you tell me, I’ll pass the message along as soon as the teacher arrives. Or you can just ask me directly if you’d like.)
Chung-geum’s perceptiveness was sharp, befitting a Shaman.
Kang Hyung-seok laughed with a breath of release, his voice tinged with embarrassment.
“Actually, I had a dream that’s been bothering me.”
(A dream?)
“Yes.”
Had Chung-geum and Kang Hyung-seok not been practitioners of Shamanism, the conversation would have lost its momentum.
But both of them were vessels of the divine.
Therefore, a mere dream could not be dismissed.
“I suspect my Guardian Spirit may be sending me a revelation.”
(What exactly was the dream like?)
Kang Hyung-seok recalled the Guardian Spirit’s appearance from the dream and answered.
“It looked almost like an evil spirit.”
(Hmm….)
“There was a smell of blood from its body, and blood was smeared on the blade. And it turned the hilt toward me.”
As if commanding me to take it.
The Guardian Spirit in the dream certainly felt that way.
(Did you take the blade?)
“No. I woke up before I could grasp it.”
Should I have taken it?
Before I could even ask such a question, Chung-geum’s words continued.
(It shouldn’t matter. From what I can see, it does seem to be a revelation. The blade is symbolic.)
Chung-geum’s fluent response seemed to wash away the anxiety that had begun to surface.
“If it’s symbolic, could it be related to blades or violence?”
(Probably. I think you would know this well.)
Kang Hyung-seok nodded quietly.
He had majored in folklore studies.
And he had learned what a blade symbolizes.
‘Purification and exorcism of evil spirits, power, resolve, change, protection and defense….’
There were many things a blade could symbolize.
It was difficult to say these symbols were completely disconnected from Kang Hyung-seok’s current circumstances.
They were all connected in some way, and Kang Hyung-seok opened his mouth as if something had suddenly occurred to him.
“I did break my ritual blade recently. This might be related to that.”
(Yes. I think so too.)
Kang Hyung-seok continued the call with eyes that clearly saw the logic in it.
“Thank you. It’s starting to make sense now.”
(I’m glad I could be of help, however modest.)
“Modest? What are you saying?”
“Would you mind stopping by, if you’re not too busy?”
I paused to consider, then shook my head.
“No, I think I’ve gotten all the answers I need.”
“Ah…”
“Besides, it’s Saturday.”
I didn’t mean it that way.
But a somber tone seeped into my voice nonetheless.
“The shops that sell shamanic tools close early anyway. I think I need some rest today.”
A shaman and a company employee.
Living in two worlds simultaneously.
It’s a path I chose willingly, but even so, rest is something every person needs.
“It must be… quite exhausting, isn’t it?”
“…Yes.”
“Ah…”
If I’m being honest, with a touch of dark humor, I’d say, “I feel like I’m dying.”
Incidents always erupt on my days off, after work hours.
Times when everyone else is resting.
Each time something happens and I have to move, I find myself wishing I had two bodies.
“I… I can’t tell you not to push yourself too hard…”
“Your understanding alone is enough.”
“Ah…”
Chung-geum hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“Oh! We recently received some Gongjin-dan as gifts. So many came in that the master said she didn’t know what to do with them all. Would you like me to send you some?”
“Gongjin-dan? What was that again?”
“It’s a pill-form vitality tonic.”
Now that I think about it, I recall seeing Gwak Young-ho pull something round from his desk drawer and eat it.
Namgoong Min-ah had asked, “Director, would you like some chocolate?” but Gwak Young-ho had simply shaken his head vigorously.
So that must have been Gongjin-dan.
“I’d be grateful to receive it.”
“Yes, well, I’ll send it to you by courier!”
“…Thank you so much.”
“Then get plenty of rest, young master! Your health is your greatest wealth!”
“…Yes.”
“Rest well. I’ll be going now!”
For some reason, Chung-geum hung up as if fleeing.
I sat quietly in the now-silent room for a moment, then slipped back under the blankets.
This time, hoping to sleep peacefully without any dreams at all.
***
“Huff… huff…”
Lee Ha-yoon was deep in sleep in the inner room of the office.
She had met Shin Jung-ah yesterday, and what was meant to be a light outing had stretched into the evening.
She and Shin Jung-ah parted ways after having a drink here in the office.
And today was a day off anyway.
With no one to complain about her resting deeply, Lee Ha-yoon had surrendered to sleep without a care.
That was when it happened.
“Mmm…”
Lee Ha-yoon’s face contorted.
Then she regained consciousness, but her body wouldn’t move.
Sleep paralysis.
An invisible force pressed down on her entire body with crushing weight, yet she couldn’t even open her eyelids.
‘Ugh, how annoying.’
This wasn’t the first time she’d experienced sleep paralysis in her life.
And since she fundamentally didn’t believe in ghosts, Lee Ha-yoon felt irritation rather than fear.
It was just a natural phenomenon that would pass with time.
As she thought this and began struggling to move her fingers bit by bit.
Creak.
The sound of a door opening.
‘Who is it? Shin Jung-ah?’
Perhaps she’d been mistaken about her leaving last night.
Lee Ha-yoon thought it was fortunate, but the presence didn’t draw closer.
‘What are you doing? Just wake me up already.’
Thud.
The sound of bare feet lifting from the floor.
Even as Lee Ha-yoon found it strange, the soft padding of footsteps drew gradually closer.
And then stopped before her.
‘Something feels… wrong.’
The feeling was different.
It wasn’t Shin Jung-ah standing before her, but someone else entirely.
Only now did a chill run down Lee Ha-yoon’s spine as she desperately hoped to break free from the paralysis and open her eyes.
Then her eyelids began to slowly open.
Not of her own will, but by another’s touch.
Slowly…
As her eyes fully opened, Lee Ha-yoon understood what had opened her eyelids.
A pallid hand.
An upper garment stained with blood.
From the clothing, it seemed to be a woman, though she couldn’t be certain.
Because there was nothing above the neck.
‘…!’
Pinned by sleep paralysis, Lee Ha-yoon couldn’t even scream as she was forced to watch the thing before her eyes.
She wished she could close her eyes instead.
But it held her eyelids forcibly open, leaving her no choice.
“Hnngh, gasp, hnngh, gasp.”
With only her nose fluttering as she breathed, the thing began to draw closer.
Its upper body bent forward, the severed surface facing directly toward her.
There were writhing maggots and dark holes riddled across it.
“Hnngh, gasp! Hnnnngh!”
Lee Ha-yoon trembled increasingly, and something began rising from the thing’s dark holes.
Then she finally understood what it was.
Scissors with rust blooming red.
Screech.
The blades spread open left and right directly before Lee Ha-yoon’s eyes.
When she shuddered at the blades that seemed poised to gouge out her eyeballs,
Snap.
The blades closed.
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
Lee Ha-yoon jolted upright and flailed her arms wildly as if brushing something from her face.
Then she immediately touched around her eyes to confirm both were still properly in their sockets.
“Gasp, gasp! Gasp!”
Both eyes were intact.
“God, that scared me. Haa…”
Cursing the wretched scissors, Lee Ha-yoon placed a hand over her racing heart.
‘Is it because of the rumors about ghosts? What a vicious nightmare.’
She didn’t believe in ghosts.
But if this dream kept repeating, she couldn’t imagine staying here.
Lee Ha-yoon rose from bed to wash her face.
And when her head turned toward the door, she found herself frozen as if pinned by sleep paralysis once more.
“…What?”
White powder scattered across the floor.
And clear footprints pressed into it.
Seeing the distinct marks of all five toes, Lee Ha-yoon recalled what Shin Jung-ah had done last night.
‘This is how you keep ghosts away!’
‘You’re something else. Ugh, you’re stubborn.’
‘I’m serious!’
Whoosh.
The glutinous rice flour Shin Jung-ah had scattered in front of the door just before leaving.
Lee Ha-yoon hurriedly checked the soles of her feet, but there was no white powder clinging to them anywhere.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————