What the Hell Is Going On?
Gwak Il-sik, who had been checking my condition, seemed to reach some conclusion and headed to the doctor with Bin-i in tow. That doctor who got sweetly chewed out by Mom last time—this time, he'd be shocked for a whole different reason. He was never high-handed with Mom or Bin-i even on normal days, but after seeing Gwak Il-sik today, he'd probably get even more polite...
Yeah, in everyday life, being tall and built definitely had its advantages. Though in a not-so-normal life—like one where life-or-death battles were as routine as meals—being bulky was more of a hindrance most of the time. Aberrations weren't necessarily slow just because they were huge, but since I was stronger than them anyway, it just meant more spots to pummel or burst open.
Oh, come to think of it, what a shame. The Aberration King. It had been enormous, with so many useful parts. If I'd made a weapon from its corpse, wouldn't it have been something that could cleave heaven and earth in a single stroke?
At first, I made weapons from stuff in the Dark Heavenly Realm. But as resources dwindled and time grew tight, I started using aberration corpses later on—and it worked surprisingly well. Plenty of them already had bodies perfected as weapons.
Weapons that got battered from smashing, slicing, and exploding aberrations. Instead of scrambling to craft new ones from scratch, I realized it was easier to process their bodies to fit my hands and fighting style. From that moment, I started killing them more cleanly. No more exploding them or tearing them to shreds—I'd harvest the good parts first, then turn the rest to mush.
And when I fought aberrations with weapons made from their own kind, more of them took one look at me, freaked out in terror, and bolted at full speed. Their faces weren't just scared—they screamed, How could anyone do something so horrific?!
Hmm. If I compared it to humans, it was like beating them with weapons made from the corpses of their parents, siblings, relatives, or friends...
「Shiny things. Left-behind spot. Nearby. Lots of stuff. Evil spirits all over 'em. Boom! Boom! Boom! Blew 'em up! So fun!」
Pung-jeong was still buzzing with excitement, pouring out her explanation. Even lost in thought, I'd kept my ears open, so I remembered everything she'd said first.
So, she'd followed Bin-i down to hunt fish, spotted shiny things poking out from the scattered mudflats, crammed them into fish bellies, let Bin-i reel them in, and slipped up any humans who tried to snatch or swallow the shinies mid-way...
I'd planned to praise her first when she got back, then point out what went slightly wrong with the golden pollock incident.
「Delusion Pouches. Small ones. Big ones. Lots! Master likes these. Master's sister loves shinies. Heard her say it. Knows all about shinies!」
She giggled, drumming the Delusion Pouches like taiko drums. The memories they spat out one after another matched what the first one she'd tapped had shown: details on treasures they'd hidden in life.
Delusion Pouch. Obsessions they couldn't let go, grudges they couldn't resolve, turning into the core of evil spirits. A resentful spirit harboring one instantly became an evil spirit.
Delusion Pouches formed for all sorts of reasons, but most boiled down to greed. Then or now, what turned people's eyes faster than gold and silver? Piles of treasure might have them laughing with comrades one moment, knives out the next—not just drama or movie plots.
Across the sea or here, plenty died coveting treasure, or clinging to it as theirs alone, losing life and loot alike. Hating anyone else having it, they became resentful spirits, then evil ones haunting their hoard...
The Delusion Pouches' mutterings and rising memories. All insisting no one would ever know—but I could see it all now.
Of course, being so long ago, no handy landmarks or road names, but plenty of clues to pinpoint locations.
Let's see... That mountain with perky horse-ear peaks like Maisan. The rocky shore with uniform round gouges—Goseong's Sangjokam, famous for dinosaur footprints. Black volcanic rock riddled with holes everywhere, haenyeo in old white tops and black pants diving for abalone and conch—Jeju Island...
Some spots were harder to ID at a glance, but the refined spirits chimed in while I sifted the memories.
「That one. I know. Been there. Can find it.」
「I know that. Passed by. Saw it.」
Then those treasures were all mine.
From Pung-jeong's tale earlier, the evil spirits clung to wood scraps or pot shards—probably stuck to the treasure containers, ending up at the research lab.
「Master. This. Good news for Master. And Master's sister. Right?」
Pung-jeong asked with twinkling eyes, half-worried. Am-jeong trotted beside her, gazing up curiously too... though Su-jeong kept stealing glances at Am-jeong, scouting her.
Like last time with Hwa-jeong and Pung-jeong, Am-jeong had greeted Su-jeong politely, but it wasn't enough to ease her guard. Hwa-jeong had called Am-jeong shady and dangerous-smelling before. Was that why?
Oh right—when Su-jeong heads back to True Truth Village, I need to load her up with plenty of qi to share with Gwang-jeong, and tell her not to mention Am-jeong yet.
【Yeah. Good job. Fishing op too. Guarding the shinies till now. Bringing 'em like this. Well done.】
Pung-jeong beamed at my words, whipping up a tiny whirlwind in the room. She puffed out her chest like see that?!, eyeing Am-jeong and Su-jeong smugly.
Yeah, yeah.
「Lots nearby. Shinies! But fish. Picked biggest possible. Not enough. Next time. Bigger fish! Big mouth, big belly fish!」
Hmm. Bigger fish? Shark-sized, maybe... But lots nearby?
【Lots... compared to what you stuffed in the fish bellies, how much?】
「Just what I saw. Counted.」
Pung-jeong glanced around, nodding.
「Here. Half of Master's space. From floor to ceiling. All full.」
Huh? This single room's about 4 pyeong... How much cash would that be?
Wait. If all those shinies Pung-jeong mentioned were the Toyotomi gold coins Bin-i was hyped about...
It could be a life-changer for her. Not just streamer Coronodon or National Maritime Cultural Heritage Research Institute ambassador Coronodon—maybe Treasure Hunter Coronodon!
「Master! Need medicine!」
Su-jeong's urgent cry pulled my gaze. She glanced at Pung-jeong, then rapidly explained.
The gist: Medicine needed for Seomho Group's eldest son, Jeong Kyung-jin.
Plan A I'd taught worked. He talked properly with the clumsy woman, learned her real name was Eun Na-ri, that she was a bit odd but a deep thinker—and Gwang-jeong overheard at True Truth Village's upper echelon meeting spot: why the official heir Jeong Kyung-jin was holed up, avoiding public eye.
An accident-induced severe hydrophobia.
Regular hydrophobia? Heart racing, shaking, sweating at seas or rivers; worse cases, choking or seizures.
Jeong Kyung-jin's? Su-jeong visited his hideout—he trembled, gasping, frozen at a face-bowl of water.
Yeah, no way he'd go out like that.
But craft a drug to partially overcome his hydrophobia in days.
Hmm. Phobias purely mental—would an adsorbent work, unlike schizophrenia's neurotransmitters or Alzheimer's proteins?
Like any issue, prep Plan B, C, beyond if A fails. Especially if it topples Chamjinri Church.
Normal phobias? Overcome, conquer. Not for him—Seomho heir wouldn't cower if ordinary methods worked.
Then... erase the phobia and its root memory completely?
I turned to the chest. Among what Earth Spirit dumped from its paws last time, good stuff there.
* * *
Night shifts at the hospital were quiet yet hectic. The nurse, prepping tomorrow's nutrients, sensed movement and looked up—scowling instantly.
That old man shuffling slowly from the hall's end.
Ugh, seriously. Him again... Can't sleep? Again?
Former prof, three-term congressman, big shot—but now just severe dementia with insomnia atop everything.
Whatever past glory, once dementia erases self, spouse, kids—it's over. Left with graceful decline or ugly mess.
Graceful? Docile, smiling, washes and eats on cue.
Ugly? Twisted snarls, vile curses, punches, kicks, flinging shit-soaked diapers, smearing feces everywhere, clamping shut for force-feeding hell...
Sigh... He's one of the better ones. For him and caregivers.
Not all dementia mirrored past lives, but trends existed. Mild-mannered stayed so; opposites flipped too.
Finally catching a breather after this...
Already slammed with charts, meds—sighing inevitable at his nocturnal wandering.
Stronger sedative maybe...
Just dazed pacing, but escape to accident? Disaster.
Back to bed, quick.
The nurse rose, approaching.
"Sir, you can't be out here. Come on, back to your room—"
"Thanks for worrying. Mind if I make one call?"
"—!"
Gentle smile, coherent question. Shocking. Smiles when lucid, sure—but full sentences?
Dementia lucidity rare, fleeting—back to blank stares fast. And he was severe: hollow eyes, staring at toes...
Suddenly, an idiom hit her: hui-gwang-ban-jo—final radiance before death.
No firsthand, but heard tales. She played along, aiming to coax him back gently. If dying, better on bed.
"A call? To who?"
"Lawyer stuff. Late, but urgent—need it now."
"Lawyer? Why?"
"Mind's clear now. Time to settle the will properly."
"Will?"
"While I was out, my kids schemed vile things. So many kids helped by that foundation... They nodded 'Yes, Father' when I was sharp, but now... Words won't cut it. Other ways needed. Don't believe me?"
"Yes. Eek!"
Honest slip, she flinched—he chuckled.
"Just one call. Lawyer'll handle details."
"Uh..."
"Please. Before too late. Early bird, sleeps like rock—might miss him."
Hui-gwang-ban-jo or true clarity? Eyes rolling, she wavered—
"One call. Please."
Clear eyes blinking, earnest bow—hers bowed back.
She fetched phone from station, dialed the number he recited—
"Ah, Lawyer Shin? Ham Man-woo here—"
He yanked it away, hearty laugh, then back.
"Why yell at midnight? Ham Man-woo. Sane now. Yeah. Snapped to suddenly. Good thing. Miracle... Don't know how long, but seize it. Yep. Will stuff—handle it. No mercy this time. Your way, stern. Thanks. No softening. They went too far. Told 'em: grasp all, lose all. Enforce warning. Yep."
Nodding, chatting on—nurse stared, awestruck.
Daytime, worst schizophrenia case clears up. Now severe dementia? What the hell's happening at Happiness Nursing Hospital?
Recent miracles flashed: 11-year veggie wakes, recognizes family... upper body mobile now? Psych and dementia too?
Something huge, beyond her—gulp, fingers twitched. Phone back, she'd spread this 'miracle' far and wide.