Haunted House Experience Broadcast [4]
"I—I'm sorry!"
Even with blood streaming from his nose, Chaser apologized meekly.
One light punch, thrown about as casually as flicking a fly away, and Chaser had gone down flat on his back with a double nosebleed. Yet there he was, apologizing without protest. Both facts were so bewildering that my anger evaporated on the spot.
"Glad we understand each other. So—how are you feeling?"
"F-fine! The talisman you gave me saved my life!"
Chaser held up a charred-black talisman to show me.
Well, the sleepless nights I spent inscribing talismans while forging the Dosim Sword hadn't gone to waste after all.
"Um, I'm grateful you came looking for me, but what about the others...?"
"They should be fine for now. I left the Dosim Sword with them."
Just in case, I'd loaded the sword to bursting with Do-ryeok before coming.
Infusing an object with Do-ryeok is no easy feat under normal circumstances.
But the Dosim Sword was no ordinary object—it was a proper ritual implement, built on the principles of Bugokpa sorcery.
On top of that, I'd hacked my hand up into a rag while making it, so the thing had drunk its fill of my blood.
Blood has been a premier amplifier of sorcerous power since time immemorial.
Perhaps thanks to all that blood, the Dosim Sword had taken the Do-ryeok without any fuss.
Who knew the sword I'd forged to protect my own body would get put to use like this...
By any number of measures, Chaser had been extraordinarily lucky.
If the Dosim Sword hadn't been there to shield the others, or if I hadn't already mastered the Great Light Mantra Barrier—if either piece had been missing, evacuating everyone outside would have cost me precious time and cost them their lives.
On the plus side, I did get a solid field test of the barrier out of it.
After getting trapped in the Corner Man's Inner Space, I'd studied barrier arts specifically to prepare for any repeat of that misfortune. The technique I'd picked up along the way was the Gwangmyeong Jin-eon Gyeol.
The barrier works by forming the Wisdom Fist Mudra, channeling Do-ryeok into the voice, and chanting the Guangming Mantra—an Esoteric Buddhist rite that radiates powerful Yang energy. It's particularly effective for exorcising large numbers of weak anomalies across a wide area.
Then again, same as the Demon-Subduing Mountain Purging Blade last time—why does Dongbin's 'Dao' study room have such a strange surplus of Esoteric Buddhist techniques?
"...Maybe I should rename it the Miscellaneous Trades study room instead of the Dao study room."
"Um, what do you mean by that—"
"Nothing. Now get out there and start figuring out what your life is worth."
It was a throwaway lie to cover my mumbling, but Chaser's reaction caught me off guard.
"Of course! Naturally I'll pay it."
"Huh?"
"How much would be appropriate? Hmm... Right, I should match whatever Momo-chan paid you. How much was your appearance fee this time?"
"Uh... around a million won...?"
Comparing pay stubs with coworkers is a cardinal sin of professional life, but Chaser's momentum wrung the answer out of me before I could think.
And at my answer, Chaser's expression turned deadly serious.
"You came all this way for pocket change, Teacher? Momo-chan... I was a fan, but I'm disappointed..."
"That's... not exactly pocket change, is it?"
A million won a day makes for a generous boss, thank you very much. Also, Chaser, why exactly am I your teacher?
"Of course it's too little! Do you know how much famous shamans charge for a single gut ritual? A man of your caliber graciously traveling all the way out here to Gangwon-do to frequent a haunt this cursed—of course you should be paid far more!"
"Uh... well, I appreciate you saying so."
"That settles it. Give me your account number."
The moment I recited it, the transfer confirmation came through.
The amount was two million won.
"Whoa, that's too much—"
"Not remotely. It's cheap, considering I'm borrowing the power of a man like you."
"No, really, you should only give what Tsukumo Momo gave—"
"This is the price of my life, isn't it? My life is no bargain-bin item, so naturally I owe you at least this much."
At Chaser's iron resolve, I decided to just take the money.
Frankly, from my position as an unemployed broke young man [my father [that bastard] also left behind a mountain of debt], windfall income like this was nothing to sneeze at.
My tone with Chaser naturally softened a full notch.
Say it with me again: whoever pays me is my boss, and I'm a man who delivers value for the money.
"The floor's uneven over there—watch your step."
"Yes, Teacher!"
When I rejoined the group, Choi Eun-ha was clutching the Dosim Sword and trembling all over.
"Y-Yi-yeon... ever since a minute ago I keep hearing this weird 'skrit skrit skrit' sound nearby..."
"Hey, Choi Eun-ha, what is that sound you keep making?"
"Eun-ha seems so frightened she's hallucinating, sir."
Holding a Do-ryeok-infused ritual implement for too long must have temporarily pried her spiritual senses open.
"You're okay. You held out well."
"Ah! It's gone... I can't hear it anymore..."
Fortunately it was a passing phenomenon—once I reclaimed the Dosim Sword, the sounds stopped reaching her.
"...Persistent little things..."
But though they'd gone silent to Eun-ha, the black bugs were still lurking in the manor's darkness, watching us. Having tasted the Great Light Mantra Barrier once, however, they kept their distance—only observing from afar, unwilling to approach.
"You actually found her. Where was she, and what was she doing alone? Well, since you're all here, we can resume the broadcast, right?"
"Aww, that was total broadcast gold and we missed it! So tragic, right, viewers?"
To the sulking ApplauseClapClap and the mourning Tsukumo Momo, I delivered my verdict flatly.
"This mansion is far more dangerous than I expected. We're leaving."
By the standard danger classification for paranormal phenomena, whatever dwelled in this derelict house ranked at minimum as Yeongnan, upper tier [capable of inflicting real physical and psychological harm on people].
And that was the conservative floor. Anything above that, I might manage—but for everyone else it would be genuinely lethal. From the Yeonghae tier upward, things like the Corner Man can kill a human being outright.
"...Hey there, Kim Dosa, we've been humoring you this whole time, and now you're acting like you're the captain of this operation—!"
Right on cue, ApplauseClapClap butted in.
"Teacher? What's with the disrespect, calling him 'you' and whatnot?!"
Suddenly Chaser cut in, severing ApplauseClapClap mid-sentence.
"Do you have any idea what I just went through? Something pretending to be a person nearly bewitched me to death! And Kim Dosa saved my life!"
"What? What unscientific nonsense is—"
"Unscientific? Ha! And that's coming from a self-proclaimed shaman? ApplauseClapClap, you bastard, it's always made my eyes burn watching you play shaman without knowing the first character of the word. Well, good riddance. Hey, idiot! When Kim Dosa hands you a talisman, you say 'thank you' and take it—what's with the 'well, I've got my own talismans, so I'm fine'? And the one you whipped out being a money talisman is legendary! Why? Do spirits retreat before the power of financial blessings?"
"Wh-why, you—that's enough out of—!"
Out of nowhere, ApplauseClapClap and Chaser were hurling profanity back and forth, and the rest of us could only gape.
"There's nothing this pathetic loser won't say!?"
"Blah blah—at least I'm better than a plastic monstrosity like you!"
The war of words escalated in a heartbeat into a genuine catfight, each grabbing the other's hair and collar.
'If you're going to fight, use fists or feet—why does it have to be this undignified?' While I was pondering such things, Tsukumo Momo stepped between them.
"Stop, stop! Why are you two fighting?! Kim Dosa is right, let's go. We've got plenty of broadcast footage, and honestly, this place gives me such a bad feeling I want out too!"
"...Well, if Momo says so..."
With Tsukumo Momo, the host of the collab, calling it, ApplauseClapClap had no further objection. The decision was made to leave the mansion, and mercifully nothing else happened on the way out.
By the time we made it back to Seoul, the clock had already passed midnight.
As the party dispersed, I left Choi Eun-ha and approached Tsukumo Momo, who was still deep in conversation.
"I'm sorry."
It was an apology for ending her passion project of a collab on such a lukewarm note.
It had been a life-or-death situation, so the choice was unavoidable—but from the perspective of someone who'd paid good money, she had every right to feel cheated. If Tsukumo Momo had lodged a complaint, I was prepared to refund everything.
"Yi-yeon, you don't need to apologize. I made a shitload of money!"
"Huh?"
"Choi Eun-ha, your mouth is a genuine crime scene... But she's right. This broadcast was an absolute jackpot!"
"A jackpot?"
"Look."
What Tsukumo Momo showed me was the donation log from the live stream.
The donation log scrolled on and on beyond that.
I hadn't even checked half of it yet, and it already ran to the hundreds.
"Well? What do you think?"
"...I'm jealous."
"N-no, I mean, the broadcast footage came out great, that's what I meant."
According to Tsukumo Momo, both ApplauseClapClap and Chaser were heavyweights in the paranormal streaming scene.
And those two had exploded at each other mid-collab. The reaction was bound to be volcanic.
"I mined the gold, so there's no need to apologize. Besides, that mansion gave me the creeps too—I wanted out fast, honestly."
"That's a relief, then."
"Anyway, thank you for coming today. It feels weird for the host of the collab to say this, but... I don't believe in the paranormal or anything spiritual. Not one bit."
"Is that so?"
"I am. But Kim Dosa—no, Yi-yeon—you felt real, somehow. That was fascinating."
"He's not 'real-feeling,' he IS real, I keep telling you."
Choi Eun-ha grumbled under her breath, but honestly, being written off as an act sat far more comfortably with me.
Leaving Eun-ha and Tsukumo Momo to finish their chat, I walked over to Chaser, who was still lingering.
"Teacher."
"Chaser—how's your nose? I'm sorry about that. I lost my temper. Looking back, you seemed halfway bewitched yourself..."
In my defense: when I realized Chaser had vanished, I panicked about as badly as the day I got locked up in that cult compound.
Then, after desperately hunting him down, I found him spouting nonsense about whether I was "the real deal"—and my blood boiled.
Still, slamming someone's face hard enough to draw blood was excessive.
Though in fairness, that was me holding back.
It barely qualified as a jab—a hit just a touch harder than the fist-greeting you'd give a friend.
But my physical capabilities had skyrocketed since the Do-ryeok came in, and the result was that disaster.
'I'll have to be more careful going forward. One careless playful tap and someone could end up dead.'
"N-no! No, it was my fault, and you had every right to hit me! More importantly, please don't call me 'Chaser'—just use my real name. It's Lee Ha-ram."
"That puts my mind at ease. And thank you for earlier, Ha-ram. You picked that fight on purpose, didn't you? To make Tsukumo agree to leave the mansion?"
"A-as expected of you, Teacher! You read my intentions with perfect precision...!"
Again—for the last time, why am I your teacher...?
"S-so, um, Teacher, if you're willing, would you appear on my stream next time?"
"...As long as I'm paid."
"Of course I'll pay you properly! But, Teacher, do you by any chance have any thoughts on taking on a disciple...?"
"A disciple? Not particularly..."
"I-I see. W-well, if you ever change your mind, please tell me!"
"Sure. I... will."
"Thank you!"
And so the haunted house experience broadcast, with all its drama and mishaps, wrapped up safely.
Three million won a day.
For a few days' work, that was a phenomenal haul.
"Damn it, where the hell did that freak crawl out from..."
Back home after the broadcast, ApplauseClapClap—Kim Han-soo by his real name—ground his teeth at the memory of Kim Dosa's face.
The position of the trustworthy older brother who advised Tsukumo Momo as the resident expert—that was supposed to be his. Then some mystery meat with no known origin had swanned in and snatched the whole thing.
Of course his teeth were grinding.
"And what the hell was Chaser's problem, that pathetic loser?"
As if their combined screen time hadn't been stretched thin already, Chaser had apparently lost his mind and started calling Kim Dosa "Teacher," kissing up like a lunatic.
Just remembering Chaser going on about "his" talismans still turned his stomach.
Given his history of con-artist controversies, the thought of the explanations and fan-appeasement waiting for him later gave Kim Han-soo a splitting headache.
"A talisman is yellow paper with red writing on it—they're all the same damn thing. What's so different about his? Bullshit."
Kim Han-soo fished Kim Dosa's talisman out of the breast pocket of his dress shirt.
"This piece of—!"
He crumpled it into a ball and chucked it into the trash can.
Then he retrieved his treasured reserve bottle of whiskey from the display cabinet.
"Drink up. Days like this call for getting absolutely wasted."
And so Kim Han-soo drank deep into the night before passing out on the living room floor of his officetel.
"Mmnh...?"
Asleep on the living room sofa, Kim Han-soo was woken in the small hours by an unmistakable skittering sound from somewhere he couldn't place.
"What now? We got bugs in the house?"
Dizzy from the hangover and the short sleep, he switched on the lights and looked around.
But there was no chance of vermin in a premium officetel only a year old.
"...Agh, my head... I should at least wash up."
Half to chase away the hangover headache, Kim Han-soo washed his face in the bathroom.
Splash, splash.
He threw water on his face again and again, scowling at the headache that refused to lift.
"No, no—wrinkles. You'll get wrinkles."
His face had been under the knife so many times that a deep frown left creases that lingered for days.
He was relaxing his expression in the mirror when his face crumpled again.
"Ugh, damn it, a nosebleed...?"
In the mirror, black blood was trickling from his nose.
He wiped it away with the back of his hand, but it started flowing again immediately.
"Aish..."
Just as he tilted his head back toward the ceiling in irritation—
FWOOSH!
"Wh-whuh—!?"
The nosebleed began pouring out like a faucet turned to full blast.
"Wh-wha—?"
He clamped his nose in a panic, but it was useless. Block one nostril and it poured from the other; block both and the blood ran down his throat and out of his mouth.
"Hkk—gack!"
Even as he coughed on the blood flooding his airway, it kept coming, staining the sink basin a deep, glossy red.
Kim Han-soo yanked his hands away from his face in a daze and finally looked up at the mirror over the sink.
"WHAAAAGH!!!!"
From the nose of the man in the mirror, alongside the blood, a torrent of black bugs came pouring out.
Kim Han-soo clawed the black insects off his face like a madman.
But the bugs existed only in the mirror—in reality, they could neither be seen nor touched.
FWOOOOSH!
And through it all the bleeding worsened, surging over the rim of the basin in a crimson waterfall.
"Ugh, aaah—AAAAGH...!"
He'd heard it somewhere before. A human dies after losing just two liters of blood.
So how much was pooling in the sink right now?
He couldn't say for sure, but it felt about on par with the time he'd accidentally ruptured a 500-milliliter carton of milk back in school.
"No no no no—!"
Staggering under a wall of vertigo, Kim Han-soo crawled desperately out of the bathroom.
Red footprints stamped themselves onto the floor in his wake, and dark insect trails crawled after them, following the blood.
"119... 119... what was the number again? No—wait, where's my phone—!"
And there, Kim Han-soo's racing mind arrived at the most important question of all.
'Would I even survive long enough for an ambulance?'
He'd already lost more than half a liter. At the rate the blood was flowing, another two or three minutes would kill him.
No ambulance was arriving inside that window.
And then, in a flash, Kim Han-soo's mind turned with divine inspiration—the first genuine possession by a real god that the fraudulent shaman Kim Han-soo had perhaps ever experienced.
"Please please please please please please!"
A moment later he was tearing through the trash can like a man possessed.
After rifling through the garbage, he finally found it: the crumpled ball of Kim Dosa's talisman.
The instant his fingers closed on it, the geyser of blood stopped dead.
At the same moment, the black insects that had crept to within an inch of his back vanished like a mirage.
"I-I'm alive...!"
Kim Han-soo let out a shuddering sigh of relief—but it was far too soon to relax.
"D-damn it...!"
The talisman was slowly burning black, edge by edge.
Even a fraud shaman like Kim Han-soo knew that was not a good sign.
"The phone number—!"
Gripping his smartphone and swaying on his feet, he dialed.
"Pick up! Pick up, damn it...!"
He was calling Tsukumo Momo.
She'd been the one to book Kim Dosa—of course she'd have his contact information.
"Goddamn it, ANSWER, you crazy menhera woman!"
But no matter how many times he called, Tsukumo Momo didn't pick up.
All the while, the talisman kept charring away bit by bit.
There was no time to waste. He racked his brain, then remembered the group chatroom Tsukumo Momo had made for sharing the collab schedule.
The problem was that a chatroom like that dies the second the collab ends—just like every group project group chat in history.
"Come on!"
— Chaser has left the room.
— Tsukumo Momo has left the room.
— Eun-ha has left the room.
Remaining members:
— ApplauseClapClap
— Kim Dosa
"He's still here!"
Kim Dosa, mercifully, remained in the chatroom he'd entered with such desperation.
Kim Han-soo fired off messages for his life.
But it was the middle of the night, and the unread "1" stubbornly refused to disappear.
"Please please please!"
Still, Kim Han-soo didn't give up. He sent message after message after message.
Praying that Kim Dosa would wake to the KakaoTalk notifications.
And when the hundredth message went out—
Kim Dosa—no, Kim Yi-yeon—had checked the messages.
The dead of night, at a 24-hour hamburger franchise.
It was a chain I liked, but I had no particular hobby of eating burgers at 3 a.m., so this was my first time showing up at such an ungodly hour.
"K-Kim Dosa, sir!"
And there, waiting for me, was ApplauseClapClap.
"What is it? You bomb a sleeping man with a hundred messages out of nowhere?"
"I-I'm so sorry, Dosa-nim! I-I was just so desperate!"
"...Your complexion looks terrible. Are you all right?"
ApplauseClapClap's face was like a plaster statue.
Not in the flattering sense—in the pale, blood-drained sense. And the smell of blood was rolling off him in waves.
"Y-you really can tell, Kim Dosa! Please, please save me!"
With eyes half gone from his skull, ApplauseClapClap recounted everything that had happened to him.
And the moment his story ended—as if the timing had been rehearsed—a call came through, routed to Choi Eun-ha's phone.
"Y-Yi-yeon! It's an emergency! Ji-soo's disappeared!"
Only then did the full picture come into focus.
It was a classic trope of haunted-house ghost stories: nothing happens during the actual tour, and the moment everyone goes home, the curse comes due.
"This just got complicated..."
Scratching my head, I turned to the man gazing at me with desperate, pleading eyes.
"So—how much are we talking about?"
"...Huh?"
"I told you, didn't I? I'm a man who delivers value for the money."
In other words: no payment, no exorcism.
The things you're truly good at should never come free.