Live in the Darkness
"Live... in the darkness."
"This... is possible... because... I'm this good."
There was no death spirit to guide him, nor any sense of the energy. So he had to search purely by face, which took some time.
But he'd found his target anyway.
When he'd first answered his master's call, groveling and bowing obsequiously had been nothing more than a "human art of survival." Compared to the other refined spirits, Amjeong had taken a deep interest in the human world, sticking close to their lives and observing them closely.
At first, he hadn't understood a word of what humans said. But by lingering around them, watching and listening to their situations, he'd come to comprehend their meanings—and reflect deeply on his own circumstances.
Thanks to that, in Amjeong's eyes now, the other refined spirits lacked any so-called "drive for self-improvement." They were like water diluted with more water, or liquor cut with more booze—just drifting along aimlessly.
They'd somehow lucked into advancing from nature spirit to refined spirit at the right moment—but the laid-back habits from their nature spirit days lingered, leaving them utterly carefree.
Amjeong, who'd wandered the human world, seen so much, and learned even more, knew full well that living in a daze like that got you nowhere.
"The era... is one of... infinite... competition. Become a spirit... first... and claim your spot... before the latecomers... steal it!"
Amjeong had no doubt that completing this mission successfully would bring fitting rewards.
Just confirming that the realms of Hwa-jeong and Pung-jeong by his master's side weren't low had been worth volunteering eagerly for the dirty work.
The purified qi his master had shared, saying it would help with the mission, felt purer and clearer than anything imaginable.
And most importantly, the sheer magnitude of the energy emanating from his master had firmly imprinted that this was someone worthy of serving.
"Jeong Kyung-rok... Are you... the head? Or is there... someone else... above you? I'll find out. And your personality... still seems rotten."
Remembering his master's command, Amjeong slipped into the car. Jeong Kyung-rok, oblivious to the presence of a being who could do whatever it wanted to him entering the vehicle, was sprawled out in the seat with utter slovenliness.
Unlike his usual grumpy, dissatisfied scowl on family outings, he was grinning ear to ear—because he'd stumbled on an entertaining video.
'Ha! Who knew this happened?'
Jeong Kyung-rok, who'd lived buried in his studies like a hermit, had zero interest in headache-inducing news like politics or economics. But he loved YouTube compilations summarizing the week's incidents and accidents.
Unlike staid anchors delivering dry reports in neat suits, these videos plastered on sensational, inflammatory subtitles to suck in views. Cyber wreckers ranting excitedly with curses and profanity flying.
Jeong Kyung-rok ate that stuff up.
More precisely, he loved watching someone hit rock bottom out of nowhere, their life utterly ruined.
Life felt boring when he could have almost anything he wanted. Lately, with booze, drugs, and women off-limits, his whole body itched. Stories of "misfortunes he'd never suffer himself" ruining lowlifes' entire lives scratched that itch deliciously, stimulating his raw nerves.
Someone who'd lived diligently and kindly, losing everything in an accident and plunging into despair's abyss.
Someone building a happy family with their longtime lover, only for a random crime to drown the whole family in inescapable grief.
He'd smirk bitterly at lowlifes sobbing snot and tears, prostrating themselves on the floor, begging for justice.
Vermin live like vermin, after all. If I were them, I'd kill myself before groveling like that.
And so, killing time with another incident compilation today—when an unexpected video made his eyebrow twitch.
He'd normally ignore it. Just some fishing catch story.
But the tiny text "Another Miracle" caught his eye. He tapped, and there it was: something connected to him.
'That bastard woke up...'
Suddenly checking the time, Jeong Kyung-rok bolted upright and slammed a fist into the driver's headrest.
Thwack!
"Argh!"
"Hey, you fuck! Hurry up! If we're late because of you, you taking responsibility?!"
"Sorry!"
"Goddamn retard. How'd a loser like you even... Fuck! Whatever!"
"Sorry! I'll hurry!"
Watching the driver's head slam toward the wheel in groveling subservience, Jeong Kyung-rok waved him off dismissively.
"Ugh. No wonder they call that a head... Can't even talk to it."
"Sorry! Sorry!"
In truth, the late start was entirely Jeong Kyung-rok's fault. Dithering over which outfit, cologne, or watch for the family gathering had delayed them.
"Sorry!"
But the driver, unable to say even through torn lips, 'It's all your fault!', kept apologizing for something that wasn't his doing, shrinking his neck.
Endless apologies were one of the responses his boss, Jeong Kyung-rok's personal secretary, had drilled into him.
When the young master rages with fists or kicks, bow your head and say sorry no matter what. Always. You'll get fewer curses, fewer beatings, and no firing.
So the driver parroted apologies like a parrot, flooring the accelerator past the speed limit.
'Damn it. Some are born with diamond spoons, living wild and free... Even half-killing people and strutting on...
Swallowing his rage, the driver kept his expression out of the rearview mirror.
'I could be like that guy from back then too.'
That famous incident 11 years ago. In this line of work, you couldn't not know or forget it.
Officially, Jeong Kyung-rok's driver had caused the accident, turning a diligent young man into a vegetable.
'Everyone knows, even if they don't say it.'
It was Jeong Kyung-rok himself who'd crashed. Then used power and money to pin it on the driver.
Those suspicions.
'The walls have ears. Disgusting.'
Swallowing a sigh, the driver focused on getting to the destination as fast as possible, eyes forward.
"Hmm hmm hmm~"
Jeong Kyung-rok hummed a tune, replaying the video.
'Almost fucked up then. But it worked out.'
Recalling that time twisted his lips.
Booze, drugs, women. High as hell, speeding down a night road—and bam, hit the guy.
'If he'd seen the car coming, he should've dodged, the slowpoke. Dumbass.'
Frozen like a deer in headlights, then smashed! Flying clean off. That memory was vivid even now, sending shivers through his body stronger than any drug.
The impact through the car. The guy's face on collision. The trash heap of a body on the ground.
Everything slowed by booze and drugs felt like masterful art.
Creating such a "work" himself was thrilling enough to crave repeating it.
And he had. Not hands-on this time, nor the exact same method—the target demanded otherwise.
'Hm. But his little sister's a streamer?'
Watching the follow-up, Jeong Kyung-rok stuck out his tongue, licking his lower lip.
'Pretty decent. Not fuck-worthy prime, but... good for a quick play. Tired of money-hungry whores anyway. Gotta taste variety sometimes...'
As he leered with a sinister chuckle—
"You've seen... enough. You're... Jeong Kyung-rok... a total scumbag."
Amjeong, having observed, nodded in conclusion.
"Head or not... don't know yet. But that evil look... toward Master's sister... warrants summary execution. Final judgment... to Master. He'll be... satisfied that way."
Humans said revenge was best done by one's own hand, not delegated.
So instead of instant disposal, Amjeong opted to restrain him just enough.
"Cut limbs... he can still do evil. Even deaf, mute... he'll do evil. So make him... unable to move recklessly."
Amjeong approached right before Jeong Kyung-rok's eyes.
Not physically damaging the eyeballs to blind him. Just covering them in impenetrable shadow no ordinary human could dispel.
To the victim, it'd feel the same either way.
From the fact that no matter how wide he pried his eyes, only pitch-black void stared back.
"Jeong Kyung-rok... live... in the darkness. Until Master's true judgment... comes for you."
Amjeong drew up energy before Jeong Kyung-rok's eyes, gleaming with lust and desire, and lightly touched them.
The instant—
"...Huh? What? Why'd the phone..."
Thinking his phone had suddenly died rather than his vision gone, Jeong Kyung-rok glanced around, muttering.
"And why's it suddenly dark? Hey, turn on the light."
"Pardon?"
"You fuck! Why's it so pitch black?! I can't see shit!"
"Uh... all lights are on?"
"What? Then why—"
Jeong Kyung-rok's words cut off.
His face shifted to no way, can't be.
He waved his hand before his face, fumbled at his eyes—
"Aaaaaaaaah?! My eyes! My eyeeeeees!!! My eyes!!!"
A bloodcurdling scream filled the car.
* * *
"Hey, pricey but worth every penny—super tasty! Come with next time, Mom!"
"So, the contract? Went well?"
"Yeah. Details left, but I'm officially with Yeonghu Fishing Gear."
"Affiliated how?"
"Like an idol agency? I'm their pro angler now."
Bin-i grinned broadly.
Whoa, pro angler.
"N-not exactly pro angler?"
"Nah, calling me pro's a stretch. Even actual pros can't flex much these days."
"Why?"
"Blame YouTubers and streamers like me. Pros used to get respect just for the title. Now folks prefer YouTube over TV fishing shows. Way more fun."
"Ah, yeah. Mom flipped channels once, caught some expert fishing show—total snooze."
"Right?"
I listened, then casually raised my right arm and tapped the tablet PC.
Meaning: look what I wrote.
The contract talk was fun, but I was dying to know if Han Myeong-rye's recipe was that special.
"Huh? Bro, what?"
"Oppa, need something?"
Mom and Bin-i peered at the screen.
Soon, both sported question marks in their eyes.
"Huh? Cheonggukjang recipe?"
"Oppa knew about this?"
Fair reaction. Cheonggukjang out of nowhere.
I'd noted it came from an elder I helped before—insanely good—but still random.
"Cheonggukjang, huh..."
Mom studied the recipe, brow furrowed.
"Dunno. It's super divisive—smell and all."
"Mom, it says right here: recipe for cheonggukjang-haters."
Bin-i nodded vigorously at the screen.
"Still, taming the smell ain't easy..."
"Just make it first. Taste and decide. Honestly, better than old-kimchi stew or pork jjigae in my book."
"Really?"
"Those are everywhere. Cheonggukjang has solid fans. Plus, Oppa went to trouble. After hearing us. Right?"
Squeeze.
"Super detailed too. Even cheonggukjang newbies could nail it. How'd Oppa remember all this? Amazing."
"Yeah."
"Hm... haven't made it yet, but... Mom, if it works, move it to your place? Honestly, wish you'd quit slaving for cash—"
"No way. What age am I to retire?"
Mom half-jokingly glared; Bin-i waved hands frantically.
"Not like that—"
"Bin-i, I get it, but I'm still young. Spry. Hundred's the new norm, 120 even. I'll handle my work; you do yours, save steady. Money flies out when you age."
"Ugh..."
Bin-i pouted but clammed up. Pointless arguing.
"Lemme see. Boil beans, ferment two days... Need beans now. Cha Kyung-hee can hook us up—"
Mom pondered, nodded.
"Yeah. Let's try whatever. Got a call today—two already eyeing that spot."
"Oof. Gotta decide fast. Make it today!"
"Maybe. Time check—shoot. Gotta go before the mill closes."
"Me too! I'll help!"
Mom and Bin-i rose, grabbing stuff hurriedly.
"San-a, we'll try this."
"Good luck! Fighting!"
Haha. I waved my right arm sending them off.
Hope it's mind-blowingly good.
Restaurant booms, build a skyscraper...
That was when.
"Master! I'm... back! Jeong Kyung-rok... handled!"
Amjeong rushed in, proclaiming proudly. Cocky look meant mission success.
【How'd you handle it?】
"Can't see. Eyes gone... can't do evil well. Looked like... gonna do bad to Master's sister. Lust? Desire? Dripping."
...What. That bastard? Daring to?