Not a Fluke—They Knew Exactly What They Were Doing
"We. Really. Truly. Worked. So. Hard!"
"Right! We. Worked. Super. Hard! And. The spy!"
Spy? What spy out of nowhere? And what was with the detour?
They'd brought a massive cloth bundle from who-knows-where, reeking of herbs that seemed like medicinal plants, along with other things radiating highly suspicious auras...
"Master. Look. And. You'll. Know. We. Worked. Hard! And—huh?! What!! Is!! This!!"
The chattering Heart Spirit suddenly froze mid-sentence, eyes flashing as it zipped around the hospital room in bursts of light. Then, in a low, growly voice, it said,
"What? This feeling. Doesn't. Feel. Good!"
Hmm. It must have sensed Amjeong's presence. Before the Fire Spirit could respond, I shot it a quick glance to stay quiet. The Fire Spirit snapped its mouth shut, pulled a sullen face, and resumed rolling around on my blanket.
Better to hold off on telling the Heart Spirit about Amjeong joining the team until later—lest it throw a fit and tremble with rage right away. Besides, that shadow spirit was a pro at social graces, from what I'd seen at our first meeting. Even if the Heart Spirit kicked up a fuss, Amjeong could probably smooth things over with the same sweet-talk it used on the Fire and Wind Spirits initially. Plus, like my other refined spirits, the Heart Spirit had ambitions of its own. If I emphasized how Amjeong would complement it and aid its growth, it'd grumble but ultimately accept.
【Good work. You did well.】
"Good work!"
"Did well!"
Praising them sincerely made the Heart Spirit and Earthworm Spirit beam, spinning in gleeful dances with flashes and sparkles overflowing with joy.
【What did you see there?】
"Lots. Of things. Saw! Just. Like. Master. Said. Stuck. Close. Together! 'Cause. Dangerous!"
"We. Were. Safe. That way. But. Who. Speaks. First?"
"Take turns. We're. Partners!"
"Right! Partners! Take turns. Speaking."
Seeing how perfectly in sync they were, it looked like they'd grown even closer while scouting True Truth Village together. Shared hardships naturally forged bonds of camaraderie and brotherhood, after all.
"First. These. Herbs. Tons. There. Growing them. Took. Just. A bit. They use. This. To mess. With people."
"And. Like. The delusion pouches. Last time. Doing. That stuff. With. Several. People."
Unwrapping the neatly tied cloth spilled out various herbs, and beneath them came other items. To keep them separate, they'd been rolled up in half-dried herb leaves—and those were the source of the suspicious aura I'd sensed earlier.
A slimy, crawling sensation, like something wriggling out.
As I examined them closely—
"Reporting!"
"What. Did. You. See!"
The Heart Spirit and Earthworm Spirit lined up side by side, taking turns to speak.
* * *
"How exactly would we—"
"Become our National Maritime Cultural Heritage Research Institute's promotional ambassador!"
"Me? Really?"
Kang Seol-bin blinked in surprise.
"Promotional ambassador? Isn't that for super famous, high-profile people? Like actors or—"
"It's fine! Kang Seol-bin, you'll be hugely famous soon enough! I mean, this isn't just any find! So—"
"Wait, hold on a sec?"
An Seong-hwan leaned over the table with burning intensity, closing the distance, while Kang Seol-bin pulled back in flustered retreat. Park Young-sook hesitated, wondering if she should tell him to back off since her daughter looked burdened—but he didn't seem to have bad intentions...
"Hup!"
Bam!!
Gwak Il-sik's fist slammed down on the table with a short kiai, followed by—
"Everyone? Let's calm down."
"Ah. Yeah. Okay."
Nam Young-hu interjected with a low, warning tone, blocking in front of Kang Seol-bin with an outstretched hand. An Seong-hwan blinked rapidly, then snapped to attention with a gasp.
"Ahem. Sorry. I, uh, well... It's just such exciting news. I lost control. Truly sorry."
Daring to call it the "find of the century," the relic right before his eyes, acquired through a method he'd never believe without the real-time footage. Overwhelmed by the swirl of thoughts, An Seong-hwan—his eyes practically spinning, in crude terms—scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck in embarrassment.
"Right... so..."
Struggling for the right words, An Seong-hwan gulped down the cold buckwheat tea and continued.
"About three years ago, there was this famous post. A company using quantum mechanics for semiconductors hired a shaman to pick their new factory site."
"A shaman?"
"Yeah. Not uncommon. They call in priests for blessings on new server rooms, fighter jets, tanks, even missiles. Hospitals too—for biopsies, some cut out the exact rotten spot, catch the cancer early, get surgery, and recover. Others snip the one healthy bit left, think they're fine, miss the window, and die."
"Ah..."
"'Science without religion is lame; religion without science is blind.' Open to interpretation, but even in this era talking space colonies, we desperately need something beyond cutting-edge science. Like a 'very special buff' in game terms. That's why I..."
"Um... so you're saying..."
Rather than blindly thrilled at the National Institute's offer, Kang Seol-bin tilted her head in bewilderment upon hearing the reason.
"In simple terms... luck? You need that?"
"Yes!"
"Wait, you're seriously asking me to be your National Institute's ambassador because you believe in luck?"
"Yes!"
An Seong-hwan clenched his fist with fervent passion.
"Archaeology doesn't ignore luck! Digging up a golden Buddha because of bad dreams. That's National Treasure No. 127, the gilt-bronze Avalokitesvara. Fishermen dream prophetic dreams too—like catching an octopus hugging a celadon plate."
"That was—"
"Yep, the famous Taean Shipwreck. Over 20,000 artifacts. So yes, we desperately need Kang Seol-bin's luck—the same great fortune that reeled in the golden pollock after the parrotfish!"
"Uh..."
Park Young-sook mirrored her daughter's expression, but An Seong-hwan stood firm, unshaken in faith.
Kang Seol-bin has something special. Definitely! How else could this happen?
That conviction burned solidly in his heart.
Toyotomi gold coins and Tokugawa gold coins. Treasures Japan hunted desperately, with plenty of fake maps passed off as real. But An Seong-hwan had faith.
Our map is genuine!
During renovations of an enemy asset house from the colonial era into a cafe, workers punched a hole in the wall and found bundled papers. Mostly trash, but one had intriguing drawings and symbols—puzzle-like fragments, ambiguous letters or pictures.
Turns out the ambiguities were codes. Piecing the images and decoding took time, but they revealed nautical charts.
The mystery map passed through interested hands knowledgeable in such matters, landing at the National Maritime Cultural Heritage Research Institute as charts. By chance, Kim Dong-won—deep in buried treasure research—saw it spread in his lab.
Spotting a familiar hatching pattern, Kim Dong-won pored over it, uncovering clues to Toyotomi gold ships: when, where from, destination, course.
But no results so far.
Fearing Japan would throw a fit and demand it—or scour Korean seas under any pretext—they'd sealed lips upon Kim Dong-won's report. Only two knew, so research, surveys, budgets all suffered.
Excuses aside, years of searching the map's spots yielded not a gold speck.
Yet Toyotomi gold from a pollock's belly?
"In summary, luck or miracles—things beyond science, reason, logic—definitely exist."
Kang Seol-bin and Park Young-sook exchanged subtle glances.
Things beyond science, reason, logic. They'd experienced it too.
Bro's sudden awakening can't be fully explained either... but this? A national institute? Me as ambassador for luck? Sure, they've appointed famous YouTubers, streamers, pro gamers, but...
Kang Seol-bin glanced at Gwak Il-sik in confusion, only to panic more. His face brimmed with understanding.
"Athletes too," Gwak Il-sik nodded firmly. "Everyone has superstitions. Most famous: specific color underwear on game day. No red food a week before. Sip water from the handle side three times on match day..."
Glancing at Nam Young-hu next, Kang Seol-bin sighed softly at his knowing look.
Makes sense. Boss Nam expects that from me too... Old fishing shop owner said the same. Boats hire 'lucky charms' for pay just to sit idle. Fills the hold miraculously.
Luck, family fortune—not total nonsense, but—
Argh, whatever.
As she thought a national institute wouldn't hinge on that—
"I've heard about the Toyotomi gold too," Nam Young-hu said leisurely.
"Oh?"
"But setting aside luck and ambassadorship, what about compensation or rewards for our Kang Seol-bin?"
"Ah."
An Seong-hwan blinked.
"I know rewards vary by relic value. And proposing collaboration and ambassadorship—you wouldn't exploit versatile talent like Kang Seol-bin for free. You'd go through Yeonghu Fishing Gear formally, right? Proper business: offer terms upfront."
"Right! Of course! A contract, naturally—"
Then—
Grrrrowl. Grumble. Grrrrowl.
Stomachs roared thunderously, demanding food. Conversation shattered; awkward silence followed—
"Hahaha. Skipped lunch—"
"Me too."
"Same here."
"Heh..."
As embarrassed laughs faded, smiling Park Young-sook suggested,
"Talk's dragging—how about a bite?"
"Sure, order jjajangmyeon—"
"No. This is a restaurant. I can whip something up quick. Anyone hate cheonggukjang?"
"Love it."
"Me too."
"Same."
"Can't get enough."
Park Young-sook headed to the kitchen as the grateful men grinned broadly. Kang Seol-bin snapped to and hurried after.
"Mom, the cheonggukjang stew from last time?"
"Yeah. Tried it—tasted great. Wanted your verdict when you came. Perfect timing."
Park Young-sook smiled inwardly. "Great" was an understatement—it was shockingly good.
First batch: Cha Kyung-hee, passing by, smelled it, tried a spoonful, raved nonstop, scraped the pot clean. Then her hyped-up friends devoured it and went wild—but Park Young-sook held back.
Better test on objective outsiders first, given no deep ties.
* * *
"—So. Came. To ask. Master."
"Using. The woman. Seems. Good. To us. What. Does. Master. Think?"
The Heart Spirit and Earthworm Spirit finished their alternating report.
Unlike Amjeong's concise, on-point briefing last time, this was neither—but detailed, perfect for grasping True Truth Village happenings.
Last time, via delusion pouches: What's the goal of these antics? Accidental or deliberate?
Curiosity satisfied. Not accidental. Deliberate.
But... sloppily deliberate.
Seemed taught by someone, but key parts omitted, deliberately botched. Like wishing for utter failure.
Else, no way it'd be this messy.
I placed the red clay-like lump wrapped in herb leaves on my palm, inspecting it.
All ingredients there—herbs, humans—yet this incomprehensible mess? Someone sabotaged the teaching on purpose.
In Dark Heavenly Realm, immortals-aspirants used every means for forced enlightenment. Among those seeking transcendence via human madness and pain: these types.
Torture, self-harm: screams, blood molded into forms for their "enlightenment materials."
Dark Heavenly Realm called them Yeondan-sa (Smoke Pill Masters) or Yeondan-sul-sa (Smoke Pill Alchemists).
Per Great Immortal Sim, alchemists were worse.
Yeondan-sa holed up brewing longevity or panacea pills.
But Yeondan-sul-sa laced pills with ulterior motives, duped people into eating them as "health tonics," creating victims to exploit.
I stared at the worthless sludge in my hand—not even worthy of "pill."
Heart and Wind Spirits watched days: no one fed it.
Ah. Maybe the old man's the sole success case.
A pill repelling resentful/evil spirits—or making even them retch?
Hmm. Mid-thought, a flash: the cave traitor. Linked to True Truth Cult?
Hmm... The sane death spirit in the chest at the village would know.
The "amateur" woman: snow-white skin, white hair, red eyes—albinism.
She "sees" spirits, but not like me—no hearing/commands. Even nearby, she just blinks blankly, sensing "something?" vaguely. Hence "amateur."
Yet they schemed to use her as a spy? Brilliant.
Perfect for my plan to dismantle True Truth Cult from within.
【Smart idea. But how to use the amateur woman? Approach plan ready?】
"That! We. Didn't! Think!"
"So! Master! Teach us!"
Oh dear. Their beaming, brazen grins drew a chuckle from me.