When the Goddess Falls Silent
Park Su-hwan felt his heart drop at Choi Hana’s words.
“Is that true?”
“Yes… Ever since that evening, I haven’t been able to hear the Lady’s voice.”
Transparent tears began to gather at the corners of her eyes.
“I don’t understand why She’s suddenly acting this way. No matter how hard I think about it, I haven’t done anything wrong by Her.”
She had never once neglected her duty of serving Bari Gongju. Every single day she checked the offerings at the shrine and kept her body and spirit pure. She began and ended each day with earnest prayer.
Finding a disciple who served a deity as devotedly as she did would not be easy—especially in a world that had reduced shamanism to fraud and superstition to be mocked. There was absolutely no reason for Bari Gongju to leave her.
Of course, how could a mere human ever hope to understand the whims of a god? So anything was still possible.
Yet Park Su-hwan’s gut told him the truth. The reason Choi Hana’s connection to her deity had been severed was because of the ledger he possessed.
She must know. That I have the ledger. And that I used it to save Old Man Choi.
A god saw the world through her disciple’s eyes, after all.
He dredged up the myth of Bari Gongju that he had nearly forgotten. She was the goddess who guided the dead safely across the path to the underworld so they might reach paradise, and who untangled the knots of lingering resentment. That meant she would react even more sharply to any breach of the underworld’s strict laws.
How could I have forgotten that…
No—even if he had remembered, there was nothing he could have done. The moment he laid eyes on Choi Hana, the ledger had revealed itself of its own accord.
Things had gotten properly tangled. And he had no idea how to fix the problem. As if he could just come clean about it now!
Choi Hana bit down hard on her lip and asked carefully,
“Could you… maybe ask your General for me? Just once? I know it’s rude, but please, just this once.”
“Ah—huh?”
It was a request he had never seen coming.
“I thought… maybe He would know something…”
Ignorant of the ledger’s existence, Choi Hana had no choice but to beg help from the deity Park Su-hwan claimed to serve.
“You idiot. The girl’s asking you like this and you’re hesitating?”
When Su-hwan’s answer took longer than expected, Old Man Choi, unable to watch any longer, scolded him.
“N-no, it’s not that.”
I don’t have a General. It was all a lie.
“I’ll ask Him for you.”
But he couldn’t bring himself to say the truth. In the end, Park Su-hwan had no choice but to nod and agree.
Until I find a solution, I’d better not show my face around here.
At least they hadn’t demanded he ask the General right this second. That was a small mercy.
“Shall we finish the work first?”
I need to wrap this up and get home as soon as possible.
He rose from his seat in a hurry. The space that had felt so comfortable only moments ago now pressed in on him uncomfortably.
— Jingle, jingle!
Park Su-hwan shook the bells like a madman and shouted,
“General! General! Please, tell me! What on earth happened between Choi Hana and her deity? Uwaaaagh!”
— Thud!
He slammed the bells down onto the divination table hard enough that they nearly cracked.
“General, my ass.”
Naturally, no divine voice answered. A deep sigh escaped him of its own accord.
“No matter how I look at it, I’m the cause…”
That only made him want to help Choi Hana even more, yet no proper method came to mind.
“Haa…”
His worries were piling up one after another. He dreaded the possibility that Bari Gongju might tell Choi Hana about the ledger, and he fretted that the goddess might send reapers after him at any moment.
I’m going to lose my mind for real.
The old man and Hana are waiting…
“…I don’t know.”
For now, no solution presented itself. He would just have to stall by saying the General had remained silent.
A lie was best told quickly. He needed to get ahead of it before the suspicion grew any larger later.
Park Su-hwan dialed Old Man Choi at once. Choi Hana would be at school by now.
— Riiing. Riiing.
After several rings, Old Man Choi’s voice came through.
— Hello?
“Yes, Old Man. It’s me.”
— Well? Did you ask?
Old Man Choi skipped every pleasantry and went straight to the point. With his one and only precious granddaughter on the verge of losing her spiritual power, it was only natural.
“Yes. First, I’m sorry for the late call. I was a bit busy going out to pray.”
There was no better excuse for a shaman whose spiritual power had supposedly died.
— No, it’s fine.
Park Su-hwan felt a slight heaviness in his chest at the thought of lying to Old Man Choi. The conscience he had thrown away while playing the fraudulent shaman seemed to be crawling back.
“I asked the General, but…”
Yet he steeled himself again. It wasn’t as if this was the first time he had lied to the old man. How absurdly sentimental he was being.
Look at me. Doing a few good deeds and suddenly thinking I’m reformed.
“He didn’t say a single word. I figure it’s because Hana’s deity is of a higher rank. It can’t be helped.”
— Is that so… But didn’t you say your deity was stronger?
“That was a joke. You actually believed that?”
— Tch. Stupid brat. Trusting you was my mistake.
“Shall I pass that along to my General?”
— Do or don’t, you fraud. Enough. I’m hanging up.
“Ah—wait, I haven’t finished talking. Still no answer from Her side?”
— Yeah. Now the kid just goes into her room and won’t come out.
“She won’t leave that easily. If She were going to go, She’d have gone already. Don’t you think?”
— Hah… That’s what I keep telling myself too.
“Exactly. What kind of beings do you think deities are? If She left, She’d leave without looking back. There’s no reason for Her to linger like this.”
Once a god’s heart turned away, it became terrifyingly cold. No matter what the shaman did, the deity never returned and simply walked away without mercy. That meant Hana’s case—where the deity seemed to circle nearby while simply refusing to speak—was different.
— Tsk.
A tongue-click of dissatisfaction came through the line. Yet Park Su-hwan could tell. Deep down, Old Man Choi found the reasoning sound.
“Anyway, tell her not to take it too hard. Who knows—maybe the Lady is off taking a dump or checked into a hospital somewhere.”
— Shut your mouth!
Old Man Choi hung up roughly.
“Temperamental old man.”
At any rate, he had managed to paper over Choi Hana’s problem—for the time being, at least.
Park Su-hwan glanced up at the clock on the wall. Three o’clock was approaching. A precious reserved client would be arriving soon.
He kicked the scattered cushions into place with his foot, pulled a feather duster from the drawer, and briskly whisked the dust from the shrine.
— Knock, knock.
A moment later, someone rapped on the door.
“Come in.”
Park Su-hwan dropped his voice low, speaking with deliberate authority.
“Huh…?”
But the moment he saw the face, his eyes flew wide. It was a welcome guest he had never expected.
“H-how did you find this place…?”
It was Jung Jin-hyuk. The man sat down with an easy smile and said,
“I figured you lived somewhere in this neighborhood, so I went around to every fortune-telling house in the area. I really wanted to see you again.”
He had been determined to meet Park Su-hwan again somehow and repay the grace he had received. With no way to contact him, he had been forced to resort to the bluntest method possible.
“Even so…”
Park Su-hwan was left speechless. He had thought once or twice that he would like to see the man’s face again someday. He had never dreamed they would reunite like this.
“There weren’t as many shops nearby as I expected, so finding you wasn’t that hard. Thank you. I’m alive because of you.”
He bowed his head deeply, offering the gratitude he had never gotten the chance to express. Park Su-hwan accepted the bow with a slightly awkward expression.
“There’s a saying that sincerity moves heaven. The heart that wanted to save that child must have reached the heavens and come back as blessing.”
It wasn’t empty flattery. If the man had been someone like Kwon Ha-seong, Park Su-hwan would never have told him the future.
“Truly, thank you. Thanks to you, I saved the child as well.”
“The news said you were badly hurt while rescuing the child. Are you all right?”
Park Su-hwan gave the man’s body a quick, puzzled once-over. Unlike the sensational reports, he didn’t look injured at all.
“Ah. The news made it sound a bit more dramatic than it was.”
“Whew… That’s a relief. I was worried. And the child? I heard she inhaled a lot of smoke and was in a coma.”
“She was critical, yes. But thankfully she regained consciousness this morning. The tests showed no brain damage either.”
Park Su-hwan let out a long breath of relief.
He had only saved one man—Jung Jin-hyuk—yet the result had cascaded into a miracle that saved another life. It was just like when he had saved Professor Kim Jun-young and the critical patient under the professor’s care had received timely emergency treatment and lived.
“Makes me proud.”
A warm smile spread across Park Su-hwan’s face as a swell of emotion filled his chest.
This is why I can’t quit this racket.
And that was exactly why he could never stop committing the sin of Cheonki Nuseol.
“And also…”
Just then, Jung Jin-hyuk fished something out of his coat and set it on the table.
“A small token of my thanks.”
It was a thick white envelope. Park Su-hwan’s eyes automatically measured its bulk.
Rough estimate… definitely over a hundred.
Thanks to the landlady’s kindness he no longer paid rent, but his tight living situation remained unchanged. He still hadn’t escaped this semi-basement studio. Still, at least he could now eat whatever he wanted, so it wasn’t all bad.
“It’s three hundred.”
“Th-that much?”
I figured a hundred at most… No, wait—that’s not “at most.” Anyway!
And how did he even know the shaman he’d meet today would be me and prepare this in advance?
Park Su-hwan asked about that.
“I’ve been carrying it with me the whole time.”
“Impressive… But it’s too much.”
As always, he did not snatch at the money right away. Grabbing it greedily would look far too cheap.
Just as he expected, Jung Jin-hyuk insisted it was only a token of gratitude and begged him to accept it.
“Ahem.”
Clearing his throat and narrowing his eyes, Park Su-hwan quietly slid the envelope under a cushion.
Nice. Beef for dinner again tonight.
“I’m seriously about to die of exhaustion.”
After finishing physical therapy, Park Su-hwan dragged himself out of Hankook University Hospital. His legs trembled from the grueling session.
He felt ready to collapse at any moment, yet he gritted his teeth and kept walking. For a full recovery he had to keep moving the leg.
Watching taxis race down the road, he wanted nothing more than to wave one down, but he forced himself to hold back.
Just a little longer. The life I’ve always dreamed of is almost here.
That was when, on the way home, a sharp, irritable woman’s voice stabbed into his ear.
“I told you, didn’t I? Ganglim Doryeong should have been the one holding the ledger.”
The voice was somehow familiar.
“I’m sorry… I thought I’d tucked it safely into my sleeve. I never imagined I’d lose it.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it! We’re busting our asses right now because of you!!”
Park Su-hwan froze on the spot, forgetting even to breathe.
The Samchasa.
The three grim reapers of the underworld, still searching for the lost ledger.