The Man-Killing Chest
The story of the death spirit who had offered the man-killing chest in exchange for resolving his injustice went like this.
He had lent a large sum of money to his businessman best friend years ago, without the friend's children knowing. "Friends should always settle money matters clearly," he said. They'd drawn up a promissory note, complete with IOUs, fingerprints, and even a recording on tape.
The friend had failed in business a couple of times but finally struck it big—only to drop dead right after. His son took over the business and squandered it all in the blink of an eye.
But before he could tell his own children where he'd stashed the promissory note, IOU, and tape, he died. The friend's son, realizing the kids didn't know the exact debt details, came storming over to make a scene.
Shamelessly, he'd forged the promissory note to switch debtor and creditor, demanding repayment as if he were the one owed money. "Pay up quick, or else," he'd threaten.
[So, you want me to tell you where the evidence is?]
<Yes, exactly. If they have that proof, he won't come making trouble anymore.>
[You don't want to give the friend's son a real harsh lesson?]
<Honestly, I did think about it... but after seeing what happened to Jo Mal-ja's relatives, I don't think he deserves that much. I've known the kid since he was little—his nature isn't bad. I figure he's just in a rough spot after tanking the business.>
Hmm. This death spirit was a saint, if you put it kindly—or a total pushover, if you didn't.
[So, you don't want me touching the friend's son at all?]
<Oh, no, not that. Just... nothing too severe. Enough to scare him straight so he never pulls this crap again.>
Aha. Not that much of a pushover, then.
[A present dream should do the trick.]
<Present dream?>
[Exactly what it sounds like—appearing in his dream. Most people forget what dream visitors say, but I'll make sure he remembers it crystal clear.]
<Oh! Thank you!>
[And you can leave any last words for your own kids. They'll remember those too. Think of it as leaving a will right now.]
<Yes. I will. Thank you!>
The death spirit bowed deeply, then glanced around cautiously before speaking up.
<Um, Mountain God... one more question?>
[Go ahead.]
harsh exactly? After seeing what happened to Jo Mal-ja's relatives, I realized your standards and a regular human's might differ...>
His cautious question carried genuine worry for that insolent friend's son. Jeez.
[Nothing as bad as breaking a limb. Just enough annoyance to mess with his daily life. Don't worry. But honestly, instead of fretting over the guy who stiffed you and had the gall to come demanding money, maybe worry about your own kids.]
<Y-yes, you're right. But my kids are doing just fine compared to that punk... Yeah, guess I'm still hung up on it. Thanks for the advice.>
I left the death spirit bowing repeatedly and turned to Hwa-jeong and Pung-jeong.
The two had waited quietly while I talked to the spirit and now scurried over.
「Chest. See. Coming? Open. Look?」
「Check. If possible. Bring. Back?」
Hmm. What exactly was this weird power the man-killing chest supposedly had? Open the lid, close it, and someone dies... What if it forcibly rips the soul right out of the body? That would kill a person.
Nature spirits weren't human spirits, but I couldn't be one hundred percent sure the chest wouldn't affect them the same way.
[Absolutely do not open it. Even if you bring it back, bury it in some hidden corner of the back mountain.]
God forbid Mom, Bin-i, or Lee Pil-nyeo opened it here in the hospital room.
「Got it. All. Then. Go. Now?」
「Two. Together?」
[Be careful.]
「Careful. Do. Master. Worries. Us.」
「Safe. Return.」
The two giggled and left the room with the death spirit. Everything should be fine.
* * *
“Hmmm...”
“See? No way this is faked.”
“Hmmmm...”
“Everyone's yapping about manipulation, but look right here! See? Gwak Du-sik—the name's right there in black and white!”
“Gwak Du-sik? Rings a bell...”
“He's that reporter from Daily World News. Been quiet lately, but he broke some big stories before—like the Cheongpung Gate and Let's Run Racetrack—”
“Oh, wait... Gwak Du-sik... Isn't he the brother of Gwak Il-sik, the Physics Fairy from Real Man Challenge?”
“Yeah! You watch that show too, boss? I love it!”
“Heh, caught it by chance once and got hooked.”
The middle-aged man called “boss”—Nam Young-hu—gasped in awe as the hogfish finally surfaced on screen, his eyes sparkling.
“Alright. It's fishy in all sorts of ways, but circumstantial evidence says it's legit.”
Experienced anglers always nitpick one thing when watching fishing shows: a rookie hooks a fish after ages of waiting, jumps for joy... but the fish looks half-dead. Barely gill-flapping, no thrashing, tail limp, totally limp like a corpse.
Viewers defend it—“Exhausted from the tug-of-war!”—but seasoned anglers think, They pre-caught it and strung it on the hook for the cameras.
Even at pro fishing tournaments with sharp-eyed crowds watching every bobber, cheats happen: hiding a big catch in a cooler and submitting it as “just caught.”
So yeah, variety shows with reshoots and edits? Piece of cake.
“Exactly, boss! We gotta scoop 'em before someone else does! This could be the real deal—treasure fish, no, sea god, wait—Dragon King? Anyway, someone blessed by the ocean deity!”
“Hmmm.”
Nam Young-hu scratched his chin again. Watching the hogfish haul made him think, Is this the real thing this time?
A person blessed by the sea god. Fish biting like crazy at every spot. Hauling trophy after rare species trophy.
Starting from a tiny parts shop, he'd built Yeonghu Fishing Gear into an exporter of rods, hooks, lures, sinkers—the works. He wanted that person.
Others scoffed at the pipe dream, and friends laughed it off, but that's what a romance was, right? He stayed steadfast.
An angler wielding a Yeonghu rod, pulling moon fish everywhere! Perfect for his dream and killer ads.
“Give 'em our rods, hooks, lures—the full kit—and see the results! That's your dream, boss!”
“Hmmm...”
“Gwak Du-sik's name proves it!”
Ignoring the fuss, Nam Young-hu kept staring at the screen. The streamer Coronodon, eyes sparkling with shock and joy at the hogfish.
Clear eyes. So pure.
He watched her bright, lively energy for a while, then snapped his fingers.
“Alright. Set something up. Make it polite. And not my style—pick a spot young folks like these days.”
“Yes, sir!”
Representative Son Gi-tae, face beaming with equal excitement, rubbed his hands.
“But if she signs on, you'll go fishing with her, right boss?”
“Obviously.”
Son Gi-tae grinned wide at the instant reply.
“Then handle that backlog first?”
“...Yeah.”
Soon, a mountain of paperwork piled up before Nam Young-hu.
“Urgh...”
“Payback for all those fishing trips. Told you to stay on top of it.”
“Uuuugh...”
Nam Young-hu groaned under Son Gi-tae's nagging.
* * *
Hwa-jeong and Pung-jeong hummed a merry tune as they arrived at the spot with the death spirit. An abandoned house crumbling with age stood beside a wilted peach tree.
<They razed everything nearby for redevelopment, but luckily this spot wasn't included.>
「Chest. Under. Tree?」
<Yes. This peach tree's hung on for years.>
「Hung on?」
<The monk who told me about the chest said to plant a peach tree right over it. Others died instantly, but peach trees lasted ten to thirty years before withering. They say peach trees ward off ghosts—maybe that's why.>
Hwa-jeong and Pung-jeong tilted their heads at the spirit's words.
「Chest. Definitely. Weird. Thing.」
「Dig. First.」
Confirming no one around, they dug in. There it was: the chest, wrapped tight around the peach tree roots.
A plain rectangular box, no patterns or carvings. Size-wise, perfect for a toddler lying sideways. A normal person would've hacked the roots, but as nature spirits, they poked—and the roots yielded.
<Ooh, impressive.>
「Yeah. We. Impressive.」
「Master. More. Impressive.」
As the awed spirit watched, Pung-jeong lifted the chest and set it down.
「Not. Heavy. Light.」
「No. Open. Lid.」
「Outside. Looks. Normal. No. Weird.」
「Nothing. Special. Plain. Just. Plain.」
Remembering my warning, Hwa-jeong leaned closer—
Click.
The lid popped open on its own.
「Wha—?」
She hadn't even touched it. As Hwa-jeong peered curiously into the gap—
Whooooosh!
「Eek?!」
A massive suction force yanked from the slit. Strong enough to stagger her.
「W-Wait. Hold on!」
Hwa-jeong fought it—but
「N-Nooo!!」
Wide-eyed in shock, she got slurped inside like noodles.
「Nooo!」
Just before the lid snapped shut, Pung-jeong zoomed in, jamming a peach branch into the gap.
Click-click.
The lid ground against the branch like teeth on bone, then gave up and stilled.
Shaking in fright, Pung-jeong rushed over.
「You. There? Hear. Me?」
「Y-Yeah. Hear. You. But. Can't. Get. Out. Too. Far. Dark. Here. Scary...」
Pung-jeong peered through the branch-propped gap and saw the darkness, just as Hwa-jeong said.
「Weird. Darkness.」
As a nature spirit, darkness had never scared her before. But this? Terrifying.
Not like any darkness she knew. One that devoured everything in reach, never letting go.
「Hold. On. Grab. Branch. Tight. I. Go. Master. Fast!」
「Okay. Holding. Hurry. Master.」
Hwa-jeong's voice trembled with tears. Pung-jeong hoisted the chest and bolted at top speed.
The death spirit followed, face full of worry.