The Switched Baby
Park Su-hwan let out a long, drawn-out yawn and stretched hard. Every muscle ached and throbbed. Pain-relief patches were plastered thickly across his arms, legs, and back.
“I’m seriously gonna die…”
What had happened at Mansindang yesterday was something he never wanted to experience again. The crushing pressure that had pinned his body the instant Bari Gongju raised her voice still refused to leave him.
I thought I was about to be turned into dried squid.
Su-hwan scrubbed the sleep from his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh.
If he hadn’t dropped Choi Hana’s name at exactly the right moment… by now he would have been walking toward Samdocheon.
So much for caring only about her own disciple.
For the time being he planned to stay completely away from Mansindang. He didn’t need any tools right now anyway, so it hardly mattered.
I ought to demand emotional damages for this.
Muttering to himself, he tidied the bedding with a few lazy motions and stood up. The moment he did, his eyes met those of the statue of Okhwang Sangje on the shrine altar.
Right?
He shot the innocent statue a light complaint, then checked the bowl of jade water set before it.
What the… fruit flies?
Dead fruit flies that hadn’t been there the day before were floating on the surface.
This was jade water—the pure, clean offering presented to the spirits. Properly speaking, it was supposed to be changed every morning without fail.
Of course, for a fraudulent shaman like Park Su-hwan those rules meant nothing. He usually just fished out the dead bugs or changed the water whenever the mood struck him.
Annoying, but… no choice.
He dumped the old water into the sink and filled the bowl with fresh water.
Ever since the ledger had come into his hands, he had at least been offering clean water every morning—devotion was another matter, but still.
Have a nice cold drink today as well.
He offered a prayer that wasn’t really a prayer, washed himself thoroughly in the bathroom, and came back out.
Wiping the water from his face, he sat down at the divination table.
“Ahh. That feels better.”
His hand groped under the table and closed around something solid. When he pulled it out, the old book bound with a red cord—the Underworld ledger—appeared.
Su-hwan carefully opened the ledger and turned the pages. One after another came the name entries of the people who had survived because he had leaked heavenly secrets.
At last he stopped at Lee Han-gyeol’s grandmother, Kim Jeom-rye, and looked at the newly written line at the bottom.
“Completely dry.”
Originally she had been fated to die in a gas explosion.
But because Su-hwan had twisted the heavens, both the cause and the time of her death had been rewritten as the empty character for “void.”
That ink had still been damp only yesterday; now it was bone-dry.
Su-hwan nodded in quiet understanding and murmured to himself.
Three days. Exactly three days.
The time it took for the new ink written in the ledger to dry completely after a fate had been overturned.
With Kim Jeom-rye’s case added to the others he had already collected, the vague guess finally hardened into certainty.
Wait a second… when I leak a heavenly secret and don’t take bokchae, I get nightmares for three whole days, don’t I?
Ah! Now I get it.
He felt almost embarrassed that it had taken him this long to notice such an obvious connection.
Three.
In the Myeong-gye the number marked the boundary between life and death, the grace period for settling one’s ties with the living world.
Just as the three-day funeral rites and Samdocheon itself followed the rule, this strange ledger obeyed it with absolute strictness as well.
Su-hwan looked again at Kim Jeom-rye’s entry. Only personal details, cause of death, and time of death were recorded.
In the old stories the ledger was said to contain not only a person’s lifespan and manner of death but a detailed accounting of every karma accumulated throughout an entire life.
Compared to that, Su-hwan’s ledger was far too crude and sparse.
“I really am curious, though.”
Curious about what would happen if he ever gained complete control over the ledger’s power.
He swallowed a long sigh and shook his head.
No need to rush. I’ll find out naturally soon enough.
As long as the ledger stays in my hands.
“Whoa…”
The atmosphere really is different.
With the crane-and-turtle brass candlesticks standing on either side of the incense burner, the shrine altar looked a full grade more luxurious.
Su-hwan gazed at it with open satisfaction.
Good thing I took them from the old man.
Technically it had been closer to robbery… but after the whole mess with Bari Gongju he had stayed behind and helped Choi Young-gam instead of going home.
So he could reasonably claim he had paid for them with labor.
Knock, knock.
Someone rapped on the shrine door from outside. Su-hwan settled into his seat and dropped his voice into a deep, mysterious register.
“Come in.”
“Hah… hah… hah.”
A young man of massive build stepped inside, sweat pouring off him like rain.
What… the hell?
Su-hwan had never received a client quite like this and froze for a second.
“Ah—hello.”
His shrine sat deep in the first alley at the top of a steep hill. Even someone of ordinary fitness would be gasping by the time they arrived, so the man’s condition was hardly surprising.
“Please, have a seat.”
Professional shaman Park Su-hwan quickly composed his expression.
“Pretty hot out there, isn’t it?”
“Yeah… hah… it’s hot.”
The man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his forehead. Su-hwan turned the fan so the breeze would hit him.
“Hah… hahh… mind if I use the bathroom?”
“Of course. Right there beside you.”
The floor shook with every step the man took. A moment later came the thunderous sound of a waterfall.
He must have been holding it in for a while.
Thud, thud!
Footsteps announced his return. That was when Su-hwan realized he had heard the waterfall only once.
Before he could point it out, the man asked as if it were the most natural thing in the world,
“Hah—don’t you have air-conditioning in here?”
He had come out of the bathroom clutching a huge fistful of toilet paper and was scrubbing his forehead with it. The amount of paper in his hand looked like he had simply ripped half the roll free.
Su-hwan was too stunned to speak.
How much is that even worth? I only ever use two squares!
That wasn’t wiping—that was pure absorption.
“Excuse me?”
The man’s impatient glare made Su-hwan’s eyebrow twitch.
“I’m sorry, but no. Before that, the bathroom water—”
“Then… hah… just give me some water.”
Without waiting for the rest of the sentence the man sat down as though he owned the place. The reply was practically an order.
What is wrong with this bastard? He only heard the word “water” and completely missed the toilet part?
The man sat there looking perfectly entitled.
Su-hwan understood on pure instinct.
Today the General has sent me a first-class nightmare client. One who has no basic manners, no sense of hygiene, and clearly doesn’t even love the planet.
“…Understood.”
He went into the bathroom, flushed the toilet for the man, then brought cool water from the kitchen. Without so much as a thank-you the man snatched the glass and drained it in one gulp.
“Can I get another?”
“…Just a moment, please.”
Su-hwan forced a smile and returned to the kitchen.
The way the man acted like some feudal lord was deeply irritating, yet Su-hwan swallowed the anger rising in his throat.
Pride didn’t put food on the table.
“Ahhh!”
After wolfing down the second glass the man wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
Honestly… this isn’t a client, it’s a wild boar that wandered in.
Still, as nightmare clients went he was relatively mild. The absolute worst ones Su-hwan had met were the types who kept asking for refunds of the bokchae over and over.
Those two varieties drained a person’s soul; this wild boar only left a bad taste in the mouth, so he wasn’t the end of the world.
Back in his seat, Su-hwan took incense from the drawer.
“Before we begin the reading, I’ll light some incense.”
Ordinarily he disliked the smell of incense in his own house and rarely burned it. Today he was going to make an exception.
To kill the man’s overpowering sweat stench he needed to numb his own nose first.
He shook his head, lit two strong sticks, offered a solemn prayer toward the statue, and sat down again.
“What brings you to this place?”
“Love… I want to check my romantic fortune.”
People who had zero self-awareness also ranked high on the nightmare-client list. Su-hwan quietly upgraded his evaluation of the man and launched into full con-artist mode.
“Romance. Wonderful. Then let’s take a look.”
Telling himself that shamans were in the service industry, he shook the bells like a madman, then snapped his eyes wide open and shouted,
“I can’t!!”
The next day Park Su-hwan locked the shrine door completely. Carrying shopping bags in both hands, he asked,
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Not at all. I just got here myself.”
The landlady waved both hands dismissively.
Yes—today was the day he and the landlady were going to the postpartum care center to visit Kang Dong-hyun’s baby.
“More importantly, are you really going dressed like that?”
She looked him up and down.
“How do I look? That bad?”
Su-hwan spread his arms and spun once. Instead of his usual hanbok he wore ordinary street clothes. The lucky pouch, however, still hung from his waist.
“Oh, goodness, it’s just that it’s new to me. Seeing you in shorts and a T-shirt for the first time feels strange.”
“Yeah, I usually live in hanbok. I figured if I showed up looking like a shaman people might get uncomfortable, so I tried to tone it down.”
The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for Kang Dong-hyun, who was simply trying to rest. So he had done his best to erase every trace of shaman aura.
“Even in this day and age… the ones pointing fingers are the ones in the wrong.”
The landlady jumped to his defense.
“It’s not exactly a glamorous profession, is it? Can’t be helped. We’re running a little late—shall we go?”
“That’s true too. Ah! I didn’t mean you specifically, Teacher.”
“I know. You’ve got to admit what’s true.”
“Ugh… still, it stings differently when it’s personal. But why are you carrying so much?”
“Stretch-mark cream and a tea set that’s supposed to help with swelling. I looked it up—people say these are good.”
The landlady gave his shoulder a few light pats.
“Honestly. You prepared all that? I told you to come empty-handed.”
“Come on, how could I? Let’s hurry.”
“I can’t even with you. Outside my younger brother has a taxi waiting. We’ll get there in no time.”
“Thank you for thinking of us.”
He had been planning to call a taxi himself. He never expected Kang Dong-hyun to have arranged one first.
Thanks to that thoughtful gesture, Su-hwan and the landlady reached the postpartum care center without any trouble. The moment they stepped into the lobby they found a livelier scene than expected.
“Quite a few people here.”
Visiting hours must have overlapped; the place was fairly crowded. Adults and children alike wore broad, happy smiles.
It was Su-hwan’s first time in a postpartum care center, and he kept looking around nonstop.
Wow… this is actually amazing.
“Giggle!”
“Haha! Look at that, Daddy!”
Everyone looked genuinely happy. For a fleeting moment he thought of parents whose faces he could barely remember now. Too many years had passed for tears to come.
“Let’s go up to the fourth-floor lounge. We can visit there too.”
“Ah—right.”
Knowing nothing about the place, Su-hwan simply followed the landlady.
Ding!
The elevator chimed and the doors opened. Unlike the busy lobby downstairs, the atmosphere here was calm and orderly.
It was clearly an area with strict visitor restrictions.
“Ahaha. That’s hilarious.”
“I never even said I wanted a blind date…”
At the far end of the quiet corridor a staff member and a nurse were chatting in low voices. As Su-hwan and the landlady approached they dropped their voices even further.
“Hello. How can I help you?”
While the landlady explained the situation to the receptionist, Su-hwan stood a step back and took in the surroundings.
Security’s no joke.
Every single door inside the facility required a key card. Even the elevator ride up here had needed one.
It made sense—this was a place that housed the most vulnerable people of all: new mothers and newborns. Safety had to come first.
“Hahaha! Is that really true?”
“I’m serious! I had no idea…”
Whatever they were talking about must have been hilarious. The nurses and staff covered their mouths or whispered private jokes, giggling among themselves.
“We have to wait here a bit. My younger brother will come out.”
The landlady finished speaking with the receptionist and turned to him.
“All right. Then I’ll just sit on that sofa—”
Ah?
“What is it?”
She stared at him curiously when he suddenly froze in place.
“Well…”
Su-hwan found it hard to open his mouth.
Uuuuugh…
Because the inside of his mouth had begun to itch like crazy.
Why all of a sudden?
He had no idea what was going on.
His eyes locked onto the nurse chatting with her colleagues in the middle of the desk. A strange certainty settled over him. She was the subject of this prophecy.
“Auntie.”
“What is it? Something wrong?”
She asked with worried eyes. Su-hwan’s face had gone dark in an instant.
“Well… I tried not to look like a shaman, but…”
No other words could quiet the maddening itch crawling through his mouth. The more he tried to swallow it down, the stronger it became.
In the end there was only one way. He had to let his mouth run free.
Tap, tap.
Leaving the landlady behind, he rapped his knuckles on the reception desk.
“Oh—can I help you with something?”
The staff member at the computer looked up at him. Su-hwan’s gaze, however, never moved from one fixed point.
“You there.”
“Y-yes?”
The nurse who had suddenly been singled out flinched.
“The baby that got switched. Are you just going to keep quiet about it forever?”
All the color drained from her face in a single heartbeat.