Sudden Death on the Road to Salvation
"What is that supposed to mean...?"
"Exactly what it says. Sudden death on the road to saving a life. That is your cause of death, Professor."
Park Su-hwan drove the point home as he watched the confusion flood Kim Jun-young's face.
"I only came in because I felt like taking a look around... and this is the kind of unpleasant nonsense I get?"
Kim Jun-young's brow furrowed. For a fleeting instant the expression mirrored the yaksha-like face Su-hwan had glimpsed in the ledger, enough to make Su-hwan flinch.
He had seen the shrine's flags stirring in the breeze and, as if bewitched, stepped inside without thinking. He had never expected to hear something this offensive.
Sudden death?
Fine. He would admit it. The way the young man had rattled off personal details Kim had never spoken aloud was undeniably uncanny.
But speaking of death was an entirely different matter.
Had Kim Jun-young not already watched countless lives slip through his own hands? That word was not something to be tossed around so lightly. And certainly not in broad daylight by some male shaman.
I shouldn't have come here. I must have lost my mind for a second.
"From what I saw earlier, you seem to have symptoms of epilepsy. You should make time to visit the hospital. A thorough examination would be wise."
Assuming the man before him was simply unwell, Kim pulled a business card from his wallet and held it out. Then he turned without a second thought, ready to leave.
He doesn't believe a word I said.
Park Su-hwan bit down hard on his lip. He wanted to save this man.
One of the rare, precious surgeons in the country—and one who possessed a true sense of duty. If he lived, countless lives would be rescued by those skilled hands in the years to come.
He could not simply let him walk away. Su-hwan scrambled to recall what he had seen in the ledger.
"Professor. You have a surgery scheduled for tomorrow, don't you? The patient's name is Han Su-young."
Kim Jun-young's startled steps froze.
How does he know about the surgery...? Could he actually be a real shaman?
After a heavy silence, Kim finally parted his lips.
"You said I would die?"
"Tomorrow at fourteen forty-two."
"...What?"
"At the bottom of the hill by Hankook University Hospital. There will be a massive traffic accident there. Caused by a speeding vehicle. You will be caught in it, Professor. No time to dodge."
"Excuse me?"
Kim's echo was thick with doubt—the unspoken question of why he would even be in that place at that hour.
Park Su-hwan knew the reason, yet he kept it locked behind his teeth. The last thing he wanted was for his own words to become a chain that ruined the surgery. So he chose another way to warn him.
"Which is why you should simply stay at the hospital. No matter what happens."
That way you'll live—and so will Han Su-young, whose condition will plummet right after the operation.
Kim's expression grew complicated, thick with thought. He forced a nod.
"Remember it. Fourteen forty-two. Whether you believe me or not is entirely up to you, Professor. Fate only changes when you move it with your own hands."
Kang Dong-hyun, who had been listening, gave a quiet nod of agreement.
"...Understood. I'll come back another time."
Just as Kim turned to leave, something Su-hwan had forgotten slammed into him.
"One moment, Professor."
Su-hwan thrust an open palm toward the man who had stopped.
"Bokchae."
You have to pay before you go.
Park Su-hwan stepped into his house with a thick wad of yellow bills in one hand and a fruit bundle in the other.
"Hoo. This is no joke."
The bokchae Kim Jun-young had handed over looked easily worth three hundred thousand won.
Guess professors really do carry fat wallets.
"I nearly got run over by a car myself."
He had not forgotten the memory of being stabbed while inside Kang Dong-hyun's body. That cold, crawling sensation of a blade sinking into his gut was still vivid.
"Ugh..."
He never wanted to suffer that nightmare again. But this time he had taken bokchae, so it should be fine.
He examined the fruit bundle the landlady had packed for him—oriental melons, peaches, plums, and grapes. A solid assortment.
It's been ages since I had fruit.
Su-hwan swallowed hard without meaning to. He could barely remember the last time he had been able to afford any.
"Maybe just one."
He was reaching for a bunch of grapes when his eyes locked with the statue of Okhwang Sangje enshrined in the spirit hall.
Today, for some reason, that gaze felt especially sharp.
"Would you like some?"
Of course no answer came.
"But these fruits are a little... awkward for a shrine offering."
Proper offerings were apples or pears, weren't they? And peaches, with their fuzzy skins, were said to drive spirits away; people rarely set them on the altar at all.
"I'm making a special exception for you."
Su-hwan pulled every last peach out and piled them high on the ritual dish for all to see.
Taboo? So what? I'm not even a real shaman anyway.
"And just so we're clear—I'm not giving you only the peaches because I can't eat them myself."
Thus a proud tower of the forbidden fruit claimed the center of the shrine.
...
Stuffed with fruit, Park Su-hwan pulled the worn ancient tome—the underworld ledger—out from beneath the divination table.
"You're completely out of control. Completely."
It had burst open on its own, shown him Kim Jun-young's future, then vanished without a trace... only to reappear later right back in its original spot.
"Tch. At least I don't have to worry about losing it."
Then, out of nowhere, a face he had almost forgotten rose in his mind.
The three underworld reapers—the Samchasa—he had seen at Geukrak Funeral Hall.
They would be hunting for the ledger with fire in their eyes. He had no idea what would happen if they caught him, but if they dragged him straight to the underworld right now he would have nothing to say in his defense. He was currently using the ledger to defy the fates Heaven itself had written.
"...I can't stand the anxiety. Time to use a shamanic remedy."
What if they show up in the middle of the night without a sound?
"The strongest thing for driving off spirits is..."
His gaze landed on the peaches he had set on the shrine.
"Peach branches."
And lightning-struck jujube wood—Byeokjomok. He planned to hang pieces of it all over the house. Leaving the house would be no time to let his guard down either. He intended to carry wood chips and red beans inside a charm pouch like a protective amulet.
That much should at least blur their sight for a while.
Su-hwan did not expect to dodge the reapers forever. They were no ordinary wandering ghosts; they were agents who carried out Heaven's commands.
"Tricks like this probably just look pathetic to them."
It might even be fanning the flames of a house already on fire. But that did not mean he could simply walk up and turn himself in now.
So whether it turned out to be porridge or rice, he had to thrash around somehow, didn't he?
Heaving a deep sigh, Su-hwan absently opened the ledger.
"...Huh? What the—!"
Pages that should have been blank were packed with Chinese characters written in black ink. And that was not the only shock.
Just like when he had been inside that black space, he could read the obscure script without the slightest hitch.
"The name is Kang Dong-hyun...? Kang Dong-hyun—that's the delivery guy!"
The very man he had saved. The landlady's younger brother, the courier Kang Dong-hyun. Why his information was suddenly appearing made no sense.
Su-hwan flipped frantically through the later pages, but every other leaf was clean. Writing existed only on the first page.
"What is going on?"
He scanned the ledger in a rush.
"Nothing's really different—"
No. The most important part had changed completely.
The cause of death and the time of death had both become blank—empty. The sight of that vacant space let Su-hwan breathe out in relief.
It must mean his day of death hasn't been set yet.
And from now on, depending on the karma he accumulated, the ledger would write itself again.
That really scared me.
He had worried something else might befall the man. Yet one detail still felt strange.
"Why is only the blank character still wet?"
It glistened as if the ink had never dried, so precarious it looked ready to smear into some other shape at any second.
Su-hwan carefully touched the tip of his index finger to it. Nothing came away. It clearly looked damp to the eye, yet left no mark.
At least he would not have to worry about accidentally ruining the writing if he brushed it by mistake.
"Maybe it's just because his fate only changed a little while ago."
A reasonable enough guess. According to the original destiny, Kang Dong-hyun should have died yesterday at the hands of his gambling-addict cousin.
Satisfied, Su-hwan nodded and slid the ledger back under the divination table.
"Ye-na, Daddy's sorry. I think I can come home tomorrow. Mm-hm. No, I'm not lying. I really was going to come home today, but..."
Kim Jun-young could not shake the young male shaman's words from his head. They were far too unsettling to dismiss as pure nonsense.
The man had known his name and profession, and even the exact name of tomorrow's surgical patient.
Does this sort of thing actually exist?
"Haa... I'm really sorry, Ye-na. Daddy will play with you as much as you want tomorrow."
His daughter's wailing erupted through the receiver. Nearby staff shot him sidelong glances.
"Yeah, yeah. It's a promise. The amusement park? Okay. We'll go to the amusement park you love and ride everything. Promise!"
The moment he hung up in flustered haste, resident Kwon Seok-ho spoke up.
"Professor, are you really all right? The surgery went fine... I'll keep an eye on Han Su-young with the juniors."
"No. I'm still the operating surgeon. I should at least check on the report."
There was no way he could admit that a shaman's warning was the real reason he could not go home. So he used the patient as an excuse.
"I explained things to Ye-na, so she'll understand. Probably..."
He glanced at the watch on his wrist with restless eyes.
Fourteen thirty-four.
The time the shaman had warned about was almost here. Would an accident truly happen?
— Brrring-brrring-brrring!!
Kwon Seok-ho's phone blared. The moment he saw the caller he snatched it up.
"What? Patient Han Su-young?"
Color drained from Kwon's face in an instant.
"Professor! Han Su-young's vitals are crashing right now!"
That was all they needed. Without a second's delay they raced toward the intensive care unit where Han Su-young lay.
"Get that over here—now!"
"Don't stop the compressions! Epinephrine!"
It was pure pandemonium. Kim Jun-young and the rest of the medical team fought a desperate battle to drag Han Su-young back from the threshold of the underworld.
Then it came. A metallic crackle filled the ceiling speakers, followed by the announcement.
"What...?"
Drenched in sweat, Kim Jun-young snapped his head up at the broadcast. At the end of his trembling gaze hung the clock on the wall.
Fourteen fifty.
This can't be...
The male shaman's prediction—that a massive accident would erupt near the hospital—had been right.