An Office Worker Is Good At Exorcism - Chapter 79

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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 78
Part 2. The Second Divine Offering (2)
Creak.
Shin Yoseph pushed open the door to the Pork Belly Restaurant in the market district.
It was early morning on a day when the market wasn’t bustling.
The smell of grilled meat from the previous day lingered inside the restaurant, but there was no warmth to it.
That was because only one person was inside.
“Ah, Ignatius.”
He called Shin Yoseph by his baptismal name and smiled, pulling the corners of his mouth upward.
He wore glasses and was so thin that his frame was discernible even beneath the well-fitted priestly vestments.
Creak, thud.
Shin Yoseph closed the door behind him and bowed his head toward the priest.
“Father Hilario.”
“Please, sit. Thank you for coming.”
Shin Yoseph sat down across from him.
With a deeply sunken expression, he looked at the priest and opened his mouth.
“I didn’t expect you to want to meet here.”
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? This place too.”
Hilario gazed around the meat restaurant with wistful eyes, as though it held precious memories.
But Shin Yoseph couldn’t bring himself to look around; his face remained rigid.
Then it happened.
Whoosh.
Hilario extended an envelope toward him.
“It’s my letter of recommendation. It will help when you return.”
“Father…”
“Let us forget what must be forgotten. Being bound to the past doesn’t resolve anything, does it?”
Shin Yoseph’s gaze shifted from the envelope to Hilario, his expression heavy with thought.
“Not yet. You know that.”
“If Father Leo knew you were wandering like this, he would grieve.”
In that moment, Shin Yoseph’s eyebrows twitched.
Yet he could say nothing and only bowed his head.
He could not deny it.
“He was my teacher.”
“And your friend as well.”
“Yes. That is why I cannot forgive myself.”
“Forgiveness is the Lord’s work. As a priest, you should know that better than anyone.”
“How can He save me, one who is worse than Judas?”
It was an answer that expressed Shin Yoseph’s true feelings without reservation.
A traitor. Judas Iscariot.
At hearing himself compared to such a figure, Hilario found himself at a loss for words.
“Father Leo died because of me.”
“….”
“If I hadn’t run away, there would have been three of us here.”
Shin Yoseph’s gaze shifted to the griddle, now cold and lifeless.
How many years ago was it?
Back then, he, Hilario, and Father Leo would gather in this very place, grilling pork belly and stir-frying bean sprouts together.
They’d share a glass of soju, and Father Leo would praise the deacon Shin Yoseph was then, saying he’d one day surpass him.
Those warm and comforting memories.
It was I who transformed those precious moments into an unreachable past.
“Even if God forgives me, I cannot forgive myself, Father.”
Hilario squeezed his eyes shut at the tremor in my voice.
“If an exorcism is necessary, please tell me. If you need my help, you may ask for anything. But I cannot return to the Church right now.”
“…Ignatius.”
“I am Shin Yoseph.”
A baptismal name was too much for one who had abandoned the Church.
After a long silence, I tried to stand, pushing the table away.
“I should go now. It was good to see you after so long.”
“Wait.”
I remained standing as Hilario looked up at me and continued.
“What will you do? Will you continue to struggle in this agony?”
“No.”
I clenched my teeth, then shook my head firmly.
“I will atone and repent, and set things right.”
“You mean to save yourself.”
“I will wash away my sins.”
In Hilario’s eyes, I looked like a wounded animal.
I was trying to walk a path far too difficult.
Yet he could not extend his hand to help me.
It was a road only I could walk.
“…How? How on earth?”
“There is someone who will help me.”
I spoke quietly as Hilario watched, exhaling a sigh.
“That person is my hope. I will never repeat the same mistake again.”
“…Ignatius.”
“Take care of yourself. I’ll contact you when it’s all over, Father.”
Hilario’s hand, which had been reaching out, stopped.
Thud.
The door closed, and alone, he exhaled a heavy sigh.
He had called him Father, not Priest. Shin Yoseph had.
“He has no intention of returning.”
That intention is heartbreaking.
A term believers use when addressing a priest.
Realizing that Shin Yoseph had no intention of becoming a priest again anytime soon, Hilario watched the spot where he had vanished with a bitter expression.
His chest felt heavy.
Yet there was something he could still hold onto as hope.
“May it be a good connection.”
That he could live with hope rather than despair.
Left alone, Hilario gathered the envelope that remained on the table and rose from his seat.
***
Whoooosh.
Lee Geum-kyung’s Shamanic Temple sat halfway up the Mountain.
As Kang Hyung-seok drove toward it, he slowed at the sound that reached his ears.
“Ugh! Uuuuugh! Sob!”
A man’s weeping.
When someone cried like that at a Shamanic Temple, there was always a reason behind it.
With a troubled expression, Kang Hyung-seok drove carefully and spotted a Middle-aged Man being supported by Chung-geum in front of the Shamanic Temple.
“Please take heart. You must find your strength.”
“Uuuugh! Uuuugh.”
Kang Hyung-seok paused before unbuckling his seatbelt, observing the situation from inside the car.
It was a weekday afternoon.
Lee Geum-kyung’s appointment hours with clients.
Kang Hyung-seok gazed sympathetically at the Middle-aged Man who had collapsed before the luxury foreign car, rolling on the ground.
“What do we do, what do we do about our Son? Uuuuugh!”
“Please calm yourself. Sir, please compose yourself.”
“Uuuaaaaa!”
Even hearing it was enough to tear at one’s heart.
Kang Hyung-seok waited a long while until the man’s car departed.
As the vehicle disappeared, Chung-geum knocked on the driver’s window first.
“You’ve been waiting long, haven’t you?”
Kang Hyung-seok shook his head with an awkward smile and stepped out of the car.
“It seems something unfortunate happened to your client.”
“His Son has fallen gravely ill. Since there’s nothing to be done, he’s in that state.”
“Ah….”
Shamanism cannot solve everything.
Especially not illness.
Yet that client had come here grasping at straws.
And he would have to leave without any hope.
“That man needs to find his strength somehow….”
At Chung-geum’s murmur, Kang Hyung-seok nodded silently.
But he wondered if that was truly possible.
It concerns my child.
Parents will stake their very lives if it means saving their child.
Yet how could such resolve easily waver?
“But Young Master, how did you come to visit at this hour on a weekday?”
Chung-geum spoke with deliberate brightness.
Kang Hyung-seok could not ignore her effort, so he forced the corners of his mouth upward before speaking.
“I wanted to consult with you about something, Teacher.”
“Hmm? Ah, are you referring to the dream you mentioned before?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Whether it would be good to obtain a new divine blade.
And if so, what kind of divine blade would be best to acquire.
I wished to seek counsel on these matters.
“How fortunate. The Teacher was just hoping to see you for that very reason.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Let us go together.”
Following Chung-geum’s guidance, Kang Hyung-seok made his way to Lee Geum-kyung’s residence.
As always, it was an elegant and serene Traditional Korean House.
Before it, Kang Hyung-seok pressed his palms together in respect and announced his arrival in a courteous voice.
“Teacher, it is I, Kang Hyung-seok.”
“Enter.”
Chung-geum gestured for him to come in quickly, and Kang Hyung-seok removed his shoes and stepped into Lee Geum-kyung’s quarters.
There, he bowed deeply toward Lee Geum-kyung, who sat upon a cushion.
“I trust you have been well.”
“What are you saying? It hasn’t been that long since we last met.”
“I heard you had matters to attend to and arrived late.”
Lee Geum-kyung smiled, pulling at the corners of her mouth, and shook her head.
“That is not your concern.”
“I understand. The truth is, the reason I came today was….”
It was at that moment.
Chung-geum entered carrying a small table laden with tea.
She set it down between Lee Geum-kyung and Kang Hyung-seok, and as she was about to leave, Lee Geum-kyung spoke.
“You sit as well.”
“Pardon? Yes, Teacher.”
Chung-geum, her expression one of surprise, knelt and sat against one wall.
Lee Geum-kyung would not do this without reason.
There was certainly something more to this.
With that thought, Kang Hyung-seok adjusted his posture and met Lee Geum-kyung’s gaze.
“In truth, I recently encountered the Guardian Spirit in a dream.”
“Chung-geum told me. He showed you a blade, did he not?”
“Yes. More precisely, he showed me the hilt.”
As if urging me to grasp it.
The Guardian Spirit I had seen in the dream realm held the sword hilt toward me.
“You are not one to act without reason. There must surely be something you wish to tell me.”
“I believe so as well.”
Merely a handful of exchanges.
Nothing concrete had emerged from our words.
Yet simply conversing with Lee Geum-kyung brought me peace of mind, drawing me closer to the answer.
“It seems to me that the Guardian Spirit wishes for me to obtain the Divine Blade.”
“Hmm.”
Lee Geum-kyung nodded as if acknowledging the logic in my words.
Then she chuckled softly to herself, her eyes—deep with contemplation—fixed upon me.
“What is the Divine Blade?”
“Pardon?”
“I asked what the Divine Blade is to a Shaman.”
I paused briefly before answering.
“A sacred instrument.”
“There are many types of sacred instruments. Among them, what role does the Divine Blade serve?”
I sensed Lee Geum-kyung’s intention.
She was testing whether I was prepared enough to wield the Divine Blade.
So I straightened my posture further and answered with a solemn voice.
“A symbol of the divine.”
Lee Geum-kyung nodded, waiting for me to continue.
“It dispels negativity and banishes malevolent spirits, guides the souls of ancestors and the deceased, comforts the divine, and grants their wishes.”
The Divine Blade is also called the Spirit Blade, the Seven-Star Blade, or the Great Divine Blade.
Though the names differ and their forms vary, their purpose remains clear.
The symbol of a spirit-possessed shaman.
The sacred instrument of one who serves the divine.
To soothe spirits and banish calamity.
And to comfort the soul.
“Until now, you have comforted and guided Victim Spirits to their rest. What was your heart’s feeling?”
I clenched my fist resting upon my knee more tightly.
Lee Geum-kyung’s words were true.
I had faced and comforted souls in the Abandoned Warehouse, in the Rental House, in the Field, on the Mountain, and at the Reservoir.
“I felt sorrow.”
Chung-geum began focusing intently upon me, and Lee Geum-kyung’s gaze deepened.
“That is the nature of guiding souls to rest. The released resentment seeps into the living.”
I did not know if that was truly the case.
Yet I could understand Lee Geum-kyung’s words.
The moment I understood the Vengeful Spirit’s circumstances and felt her emotions remained like sediment within me.
“Do you regret it?”
Perhaps it was the heavy atmosphere that prompted it.
Lee Geum-kyung posed her question in a gentle voice, and Kang Hyung-seok shook his head with a bitter smile.
“I would do the same thing again if I returned.”
A thousand times, ten thousand times.
I would be fully capable of it.
Not because the precept to act righteously remained etched upon my hands.
Not because it was the will of the Guardian Spirit.
It was purely my own will—Kang Hyung-seok’s will alone.
“Yes, that is the answer I wanted to hear.”
Lee Geum-kyung smiled brightly.
As if embarrassed, Kang Hyung-seok laughed awkwardly, and Lee Geum-kyung turned her gaze toward Chung-geum.
“Chung-geum, bring that here.”
At this, Chung-geum, who had been silent until now, widened her eyes in surprise.

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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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