Calamity Turned to Fortune
Startled, Park Su-hwan hastily twisted his body aside. If his steps had been even a little quicker, he would have walked straight into the Samchasa.
He pressed a hand over his wildly hammering heart and steadied his trembling breath.
He had let his guard down because the reapers had stayed out of sight for so long. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined they would suddenly appear right in front of him.
“Ah! Then could it be a jishinryeong—an earth spirit?”
Just as he was about to steal away like an alley cat, body lowered as far as it would go—
The smallest of the Samchasa, the boyish Sun Grim Reaper Hae-dong, spoke while licking his ice cream.
“An earth spirit, huh. Not a bad deduction.”
Monthly Messenger So-hee muttered as she whirled her giant curved blade through the air. No matter how many times he saw it, that gokdo of hers was terrifying enough to raise goosebumps.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to think a local earth god is just messing with the ledger however it pleases? That seems way more likely.”
“True. Even a vengeful spirit couldn’t easily tamper with the contents of the ledger.”
They’re talking about me right now.
Park Su-hwan’s instincts screamed that he absolutely could not leave yet. He had to find out exactly what they thought about the thief who had stolen the ledger—and how they planned to tighten the net from here on out.
They said they track the ledger’s aura, right?
Which meant that right now, without the ledger on him, Park Su-hwan was of no interest to them.
Just keep my head down so I don’t make eye contact with anyone and the ledger doesn’t suddenly pop out.
As long as I act… as long as I act well, they won’t notice.
Park Su-hwan clenched his trembling hand into a fist once, then pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Yeah. I’m here. Where the hell are you?”
He pretended to be on the phone with a friend.
“Exactly. Even if the culprit isn’t one of those, it still narrows the candidates, so there’s nothing to lose.”
As the distance between him and the reapers closed, a chill began to seep into his bones.
“Hae-dong. You’re pretty sharp today.”
“Right? But there’s one thing that bothers me.”
“What?”
“The culprit doesn’t seem used to handling the ledger at all. The way they’re just randomly ripping through the threads of fate feels… off.”
“Hmm… Now that you mention it, yeah.”
“Right? Either you use it or you don’t. It’s obvious they can’t properly control the ledger’s power.”
The boy took another casual lick of his ice cream and added. The sun was still high overhead, the heat brutal—yet the ice cream showed not the slightest sign of melting. That, too, was clearly a reaper’s ability.
“Haa… Seriously. If you’re going to be late, at least say so.”
Park Su-hwan poured everything into his performance while pricking his ears toward the reapers. To any passerby he looked exactly like a man furious that his friend had broken a promise.
“So I was thinking, maybe some human who got lucky and just picked up the ledger dared to—”
“I’ve told you before, that’s impossible. How could a mere human even see or touch an object from the Myeong-gye, let alone rewrite its contents?”
Monthly Messenger So-hee shook her head firmly.
“Th-that’s exactly the other thing that bothers meee…”
The bold hypothesis Hae-dong had thrown out gradually lost steam. Even he could feel that his own theory didn’t quite hold up.
“Haa… You always start strong and then trip over yourself. Honestly, I didn’t think this was the kind of problem that would drag on forever, but we’ve been coming up empty for weeks.”
“I know…”
“The more I think about it, the more pissed off I get! When I catch them I’m going to tear them to shreds! Uuugh!”
—Whoosh! Whoosh!
She swung the curved blade with murderous force. Birds perched along the roadside flapped into the air and vanished in an instant.
“This is so annoying! So freaking annoying!”
Unable to contain her rage, she lashed the blade left and right. Yet strangely, nothing she struck shattered or broke.
“All this crap because of you!”
“N-Noona!”
“Who’s your noona?!”
Yikes…
Park Su-hwan, who had been sneaking glances at the bloodcurdling scene, swallowed dryly and took a single step back—still acting perfectly natural.
They still had not even the faintest outline of the thief who stole the ledger. That was excellent news for Park Su-hwan.
I just have to be careful of that one. The Sun Grim Reaper… Hae-dong, was it?
Among the Samchasa, he was the only one making deductions that came anywhere close to the truth.
“I’ll find it for sure! The problem is the aura only appears for a split second and vanishes again. And even when we sense it during work hours, we can’t just chase after it right away…”
The Sun Grim Reaper let out a long sigh and shook his head.
“I don’t know!! Like you’ll actually find it. You’re still striking out. Can’t they just hire more reapers? We’re always short-handed. By the way, Doryeong-nim—why have you been so quiet this whole time?”
Ganglim Doryeong, who had been listening in silence, finally spoke.
“…I heard that Bari Gongju recently visited the offices and quietly checked whether any ledgers had gone missing.”
“Hup!”
“Huk!”
At the same moment, Park Su-hwan’s shoulder gave a tiny twitch. A mistake. He immediately recovered and yelled at his “friend” again as if nothing had happened.
“You’re buying lunch. Thirty minutes late is honestly too much. Hey!”
His gaze kept drifting toward the Samchasa. Park Su-hwan rolled his eyes and forced himself to focus on the sidewalk sign next to him advertising a 2,000-won iced americano.
I knew it! Bari Gongju has been digging into me.
“I-Is that true?”
“She asked quite a while ago, but it seems she ordered everyone to keep quiet—they all clamped their mouths shut. I only found out recently myself.”
“No way. Do you think she noticed something? Why now of all times?”
“N-No way. We’ve been covering this up with everything we’ve got. I’m sure no one knows yet. I guarantee it.”
“Idiot! There’s no way Bari Gongju would personally visit the offices to investigate a missing ledger unless something tipped her off.”
Ganglim Doryeong’s expression was grave.
“The currents flowing through Baekokgyeong right now are not normal. The fact that King Yama is so busy he can’t even catch his breath is probably connected to that.”
Baekokgyeong…?
Park Su-hwan rolled the word around on his tongue.
What is that?
It was a term he had never heard in his life. Whatever Baekokgyeong was, something serious seemed to have happened there.
“I don’t know the details either. What I do know for certain is that because King Yama’s attention is fixed elsewhere, we’ve bought ourselves a little more time to clean up this mess.”
“Huh…”
“We have to find the ledger before that thief starts truly playing around with it. No matter what it takes.”
It sounded as though the Myeong-gye itself was in chaos right now.
Ganglim Doryeong’s tightly controlled anger faded into the distance. As their footsteps receded, the chill that had been creeping into Park Su-hwan’s bones slowly melted away.
“Yeah. Forget it. Hang up.”
Turning calamity into fortune.
Wasn’t that the old saying—that disaster could transform into blessing? In exchange for risking danger just once, Park Su-hwan now understood exactly what kind of situation the reapers were in.
“Don’t come in starting tomorrow.”
“What?”
Han Seung-ju, summoned to the office, could hardly believe the sudden words that left his team leader’s mouth.
“Why the shocked face? You were going to quit soon anyway, so just quit a little earlier.”
“B-But still…”
He had been waiting for the right moment to say he needed time off with the excuse that he was sick. He never expected this kind of attitude from the team leader.
“I’m sick to death of hearing you demand new equipment! Enough already, you bastard!”
The team leader barked with a razor-edged look. Han Seung-ju squeezed his eyes shut.
“I wasn’t wrong, though…”
Just as the team leader said, Han Seung-ju had already planned to leave this place. He had even mentioned it to him before.
But being fired for repeatedly making a legitimate request to replace equipment was an entirely different matter.
“No, you idiot. You should have said things that were nice to hear. Don’t go around claiming you can handle social life after acting like that.”
In short, he’s just telling me to get lost because he doesn’t like me.
Stubbornly clinging to the shaman’s advice—insisting the worn-out gear be replaced—had been the spark.
“Even if nothing else, you at least have to replace the belt! Please!”
The shaman’s warning still refused to leave his head. That the old belt would cause a horrific accident.
“There he goes again with that bullshit.”
The team leader didn’t even pretend to listen. It wasn’t as if Han Seung-ju had started this only yesterday. But lately he had crossed the line, and the man could no longer tolerate it.
“What if it snaps?!”
“Equipment is supposed to be used until it breaks! Stop talking nonsense and get out right now.”
“Team Leader!”
“I said get out!!”
Finally the team leader raised his voice. The thunderous shout shook the walls of the cramped office. Murmurs rose from the people outside.
“I’ll make sure you get paid for the days you worked. Now disappear from my sight.”
“Not leaving? Should I call someone?”
“…I’m going. I’m leaving.”
Han Seung-ju bit down hard and spoke. He swallowed the rage that threatened to burst out and forced his feet to move.
“Where the hell did a bastard like that crawl out of. Tsk.”
The team leader’s muttering followed him from behind. It was clearly meant as a private grumble, yet it reached Han Seung-ju’s ears with perfect clarity.
“He doesn’t know the first thing about the field. Unlucky little shit.”
Han Seung-ju’s desperate warning had been dismissed as the tantrum of an ignorant fool. Hearing it, he paused for only a second before stepping out into the dark hallway.
—Slurp!
Han Seung-ju had never expected to be fired before he could even walk out on his own two feet. Alone in the empty room, he waited for his ramen to soften while scrolling through his phone screen.
“If I’d known it would turn out like this, I would’ve just kept showing up…”
He had already lined up a new job to start right after resigning. At least he wouldn’t starve—or so he had reassured himself.
Then yesterday that place suddenly canceled the offer. A bolt from the blue if there ever was one.
Regret crept in that he had trusted the shaman’s words too completely. What wind had blown through his head to make him take a complete stranger’s words as absolute gospel?
He felt pathetic just thinking about it. Of course, the man had known personal details about him that were downright chilling… but still.
“Maybe the accident wouldn’t have happened after all.”
Yet regret was still regret. He couldn’t understand why he had never considered the opposite possibility.
Han Seung-ju stared at the time on his phone screen.
2:30 p.m.
The hour that nameless shaman had so earnestly warned him about had already passed long ago.
“Something was supposed to happen, huh. Sheesh.”
—Riiing riiing!!
Just then a call came in from a coworker he had worked with on-site. This was the middle of the workday; there was even less reason to contact someone who had already quit.
What is this?
After a moment of hesitation he finally hit accept.
“…Hello?”
The urgent voice on the other end slammed into his eardrums. At the unbelievable news, Han Seung-ju’s face drained of color in an instant.
“Th-the team leader? What do you mean…!”
That afternoon, while working at the site Seung-ju used to handle, the team leader’s belt had snapped. He had been electrocuted on the spot and died a screaming, unexpected death.