Terrestrial Broadcast Debut
“Do you have nothing to say to me?”
-I'm sorry...
Yoon Soo-ah's listless voice drifted through the receiver. It sounded so pitiful that I couldn't even work up the energy to be angry.
“Haa... the video that leaked online — it's the one Min-seo submitted, right? In that case, this is unmistakably the Bureau's fault, so what on earth happened here?”
Thank goodness the leaked footage didn't include a close-up of my face, and the camera was shaking so violently that it was hard to tell it was me. What would I have done if my dumbfounded expression had been plastered across the frame in glorious high definition?
My position would have been well and truly screwed, no two ways about it.
-I have nothing further to say...
“Whew... Never mind, I didn't call just to make your life miserable. More importantly — weren't anomalies and the supernatural supposed to be invisible to cameras? Then what exactly is that video?”
-......
When I had actually checked the video Yu Min-seo submitted, it had been badly burned with black distortion, the imagery warped beyond recognition — to the point where I'd wondered whether there was even any need to retrieve it in the first place.
But the video spreading across the internet was completely different. It wasn't quite 4K quality, but it was clear enough to pass as HD. If it hadn't been shot from that particular angle, I wouldn't have known it was Min-seo's footage at all.
-That's...
It seemed to be a sensitive matter she couldn't discuss freely, because Yoon Soo-ah fell silent...
“The moment my video leaked, I became a party to this incident myself.”
That remark must have been the killing blow, because Yoon Soo-ah finally spoke.
-Are you familiar with Cosmos?
“Cosmos? You don't mean the Cosmos I know, do you?”
Cosmos — the name of Korea's proudest international IT corporation.
“What about Cosmos? What does that have to do with anything?”
-...This is something that's well known neither to the general public nor even among psychics, but Cosmos has known about anomalies and the supernatural since its founding, and has secretly conducted research and development ever since.
“Excuse me?”
I was a little surprised, but honestly, it made sense. If anomalies and the supernatural actually existed, it wouldn't be strange for one or two organizations to try to explain them scientifically. There was already the spirit telephone, a mechanical device that interfered with the supernatural. If Edison could build such a thing in the nineteenth century, there was no reason the greatest technological power of the twenty-first couldn't do the same.
-Plenty of organizations have tried to explain the supernatural scientifically, but Cosmos's research progress is in a league of its own. Filming anomalies and supernatural phenomena is considered the industry's greatest unsolved problem — even the most cutting-edge technology can only barely capture the voice of a soul. My grandmother suspects that the only group capable of pulling off something this far beyond the industry's technical level is Cosmos.
“So is Cosmos planning to launch some kind of business with the supernatural? Where can I buy stock?”
-N-no! This is not the time for jokes!
“If now isn't the time for jokes, that's the Paranormal Administration Bureau's problem, isn't it? Instead of harassing innocent small-time psychics to keep the supernatural under wraps, shouldn't they be keeping a leash on outfits like that?”
-I'm sorry...
“Haa... There's no point pressing you over this, Soo-ah. So — can you actually clean this mess up, or not? The video's already out there, so why should I trust the Bureau any further?”
-Once again, the Paranormal Administration Bureau has caused you trouble through our own negligence, and I have no face to show you.
Her voice sounded like it was crawling into the floorboards, and it felt cruel to get angrier, so I simply told her I understood and hung up.
Unbelievable.
“There's no answer with these people...”
I'd felt it before, but the Paranormal Administration Bureau was incompetent. Kang In-hyuk was team-leader rank and still only lower Grade A, so their psychics clearly weren't anything special. And watching them fail to stop a video spreading right now, their administrative and covert-operations abilities weren't much to write home about either. If I exaggerated a little, the whole Bureau was on the level of a one-woman team run by Baek Gong-ju.
“No wonder Baek Gong-ju felt responsible enough to join the Bureau.”
Anyway — Cosmos, was it?
Wasn't this the most tired cliché in the entire occult genre? A trans-legal corporate entity exploiting the supernatural. And Cosmos fit that archetype perfectly, both in stature and influence.
The number one IT company in the world. Sixty percent of all mobile communication devices on the planet were Cosmos products, and it was faster to find a category of electronics where Cosmos didn't hold first place. Their hard power wasn't the only thing that was strong — their soft power was monstrous too. Google and Apple both folded by one move — no, two — before Cosmos.
Even their staggering technology was apparently just them going, eh, this should be good enough, deliberately throttled since they had no real rivals. It was estimated that Cosmos's true technological capability was at least thirty years ahead of the curve — that says it all.
Come to think of it, the phone I was using right now was a Cosmos product.
“Ahh, anyone wiretapping this? If so, please detonate my phone... Nope, didn't explode.”
The Bureau, Deva, and Cosmos. I updated my mental map of Korea's psychic power blocs. Not that updating it changed what I actually had to do. I'd been entangled with giant organizations more than I liked lately, but for someone like me, planning to scrape by doing a little broadcasting, they were people I wanted nothing to do with going forward. If I didn't want to be the shrimp whose back breaks in a fight between whales, the smart move was to quietly keep my distance.
The whale that wins just has to be on my side, that's all.
“Master! The food's all ready!”
“Good work. I just finished the decorations too.”
Because what I was pouring my effort into right now had nothing to do with those three power blocs or some leaked Seonhwa High video.
[Party to Celebrate Channel Master Kim Hitting 100K Subscribers & Yu Min-seo's Hiring]
It was preparations for a modest little party celebrating the channel reaching one hundred thousand subscribers, and Yu Min-seo joining Channel Master Kim. And by "party," I meant the three streamers I'd grown close to since the abandoned house broadcast — plus Choi Eun-ha — along with me and Yu Min-seo, all gathered at Lee Ha-ram's hideout to share a simple meal.
“Whoa...!”
Yu Min-seo, the guest of honor, arrived only after every last preparation was done — and her eyes went wide at the feast and the cake spread out before her. Written across the cake in elegant cursive were the words Congratulations on Channel Master Kim's 100K and Welcome to Channel Master Kim, Ms. Yu Min-seo.
Congratulations on Channel Master Kim's 100K
Welcome to Channel Master Kim, Ms. Yu Min-seo
“Alright, Min-seo! Start with your introduction!”
Meeting the streamer trio and Choi Eun-ha for the first time, Yu Min-seo introduced herself in a tense voice.
“I-I'm Yu Min-seo! I'm from One MoMoTomo, and I've been a fan of Master Kim ever since the abandoned house broadcast!”
Everyone applauded the introduction she'd delivered with a tremble but plenty of spine.
Half the reason I'd put this gathering together was so Min-seo — who'd be working as my channel's employee going forward — could learn from the three people who'd helped with my broadcasts until now.
As for the other half...
“Wow, you were from MoMoTomo? But you've converted to a Master Kim fan now?”
“N-no, I'm both! Both of them!”
“Just kidding~ Because Momo here is a Master Kim fan too.”
“Aigoo, Hwa-sang, why would you want to pick on a kid several years younger than you?”
“Ow!”
Choi Eun-ha pinched Tsukumo Momo's cheek as she watched Min-seo fluster.
“Ahem. I hear you're Master's disciple as well... If we're counting seniority among disciples, I was the first to enroll, so you may call me your senior.”
“Just ignore the loser. I'm Kim Han-soo — feel free to call me Han-soo-oppa.”
“Who are you calling a loser!?”
“AHAHAHAHA!”
Whether Lee Ha-ram and Kim Han-soo's jokes [?] landed just right, Yu Min-seo burst out laughing. Watching her, I let out a small sigh of relief inside.
Good, she fits right in. Well, the average ages aren't all that far apart.
Just as Lee Ha-ram had said, now that I'd agreed to teach her summoning magic, Yu Min-seo was my disciple too. I'd entered the world of psychic arts barely a month ago — two disciples, really? But having taken her on, I wanted to do it properly. A teacher's job, after all, isn't just imparting skills — you have to look after their character too.
Yu Min-seo had shut the door of her heart after being tormented by Lee Min-hee for so long. This celebration party was my way of prying that door open and helping her make new friends.
And judging by the reaction, it seemed to be working.
“Oh, by the way, Momo — did your visiting relative head back home safely?”
“Don't get me started~ She clearly came to Korea for some specific purpose, but then she got hooked on Korean dramas and K-POP out of nowhere, and lately all she does is pilgrimage drama filming locations and go to concerts, nonstop.”
“Wait, is she okay for money?”
Puff.
“Her family — my mother's side, that is — is quite wealthy. Maybe that's why her sense of money is completely broken; she doesn't spare it a second thought.”
Hm. Completely a different world from mine. Born with a golden spoon, jetting off abroad whenever the mood strikes, doing whatever she pleases on a whim... God, I'm jealous.
“Um, Master — more importantly... could you tell us about the Seonhwa High incident?”
Lee Ha-ram looked up at me with unsubtle pleading eyes. Not just her — Kim Han-soo, Tsukumo Momo, and even Choi Eun-ha were all gazing at me with naked curiosity.
Well, fair enough. With the Seonhwa High 400-person pandemic and the President's death dominating the news lately, who wouldn't be curious about the truth behind it all?
I glanced over at Yu Min-seo.
“You don't have to worry about me.”
She said it with a smile utterly free of shadows. Considering what she'd been through, you'd expect her to be reluctant to talk about it.
“It wasn't a good thing, of course... but because of it, I got to meet Yi-yeon-oppa.”
This kid... she knows exactly how to charm her boss. Truly befitting a top student who attended a specialized high school on a full scholarship.
“Well, if everyone wants to hear it...”
And so, over the course of an hour, I unwound the whole tangled bundle of stories behind the Seonhwa High incident.
When I finished, the audience's reactions split clean down the middle.
“...You really went through so much...”
“What kind of bitch even IS that!? Grrr, if I'd gone to school with her, I swear—!”
Tsukumo Momo and Choi Eun-ha, sympathizing with Min-seo's situation and worrying over her.
“Seire... to think one of Solomon's seventy-two demons actually descended into this world...”
“Doesn't it feel like these anomaly cases keep escalating? It's getting harder and harder to believe...”
Lee Ha-ram and Kim Han-soo, awed by the sheer scale of the incident itself.
Either way, as a storyteller, their attitudes made the telling worth every minute.
Then Choi Eun-ha suddenly asked, as if something had been nagging at her.
“By the way, Yi-yeon-oppa — you said you tricked that bastard Lee Min-hee into believing she was the President? How did you pull that off?”
“Like this.”
I stood up from my seat and did a light somersault in midair. And with that, my appearance changed into Choi Eun-ha's.
“Wh-what—!?”
“I'm Choi Eun-ha~ My hair's all fallen out, you see.”
I wasn't the current Choi Eun-ha, whose hair had grown out to a short bob — I'd transformed into her look right after her hair had completely fallen out, the bald-shaved stage, and I patted my head to show it off.
The Thirty-Six Heavenly Transformations.
It was the shapeshifting art that paired with the famous Seventy-Two Earthly Transformations used by the one and only Sun Wukong.
“Yi-yeon-oppa... is there anything you can't do?”
I'd transformed to tease her, but far from getting angry, Eun-ha stared at my transformed figure with nothing but wonder in her eyes.
“It's not that impressive. I'm still too unrefined to take on any form other than a human's.”
The shapeshifting art was my insurance against the worst-case scenario — prepared specifically so I could flee if I ever ended up crossing one of the giant organizations like Deva or the Paranormal Administration Bureau. In a Seoul blanketed with surveillance cameras in every direction, this much was the bare minimum to slip a national agency's eyes.
Whoosh.
By then, my appearance had returned to normal. Since my training time was still short, the art's duration was limited as well.
Vrrrrr — vrrrr.
Just then, Kim Han-soo's phone rang. He'd been staring blankly in shock after the transformation.
“S-sorry, I'll take it outside real quick.”
Kim Han-soo stepped out to take the call and came back about ten minutes later. But his expression was anything but ordinary.
“What is it? Something wrong?”
“M-Master Kim! The broadcasting station! MBB Broadcasting Station called!”
“The station? Why would they call you?”
“It wasn't for me! It was a casting offer for you, Master Kim!”
“Me!?”
“Yes! Apparently they couldn't reach you directly since you don't manage any separate business inquiries and don't check your email, so they went through someone they knew — me!”
“M-Master's finally hitting terrestrial TV!”
“Finally! I knew a day like this would come!”
“Wow, Yi-yeon-oppa, chance for a hype-up?”
But unlike the celebratory commotion around him, Kim Han-soo's expression wasn't particularly bright.
“Something bothering you?”
“Well... the person appearing alongside you is Professor Park Do-jun.”
“Park Do-jun? Who's that?”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Yes...? Oh...!”
Only then did Kim Han-soo seem to realize there was absolutely nothing to worry about.
“Haha, I worried over nothing.”
And indeed he had.
“I was concerned the channel's growth was slowing down, so this works out nicely.”
In that case — let's see if we can hit two hundred thousand subscribers before the year's out.
A few days later. The waiting room of MBB Broadcasting Station.
The featured guests for Producer Choi Ji-hoon's special broadcast had gathered in the greenroom. Arriving before anyone else, Professor Park Do-jun sighed inwardly, a wave of disillusionment washing over him.
I can't keep doing this much longer...
Park Do-jun was the professor who'd made a name for himself across multiple broadcasts by shredding fraudulent psychics. But in truth, he had little interest in humiliating fake shamans. To him, all of this was nothing more than a performance — a means of grubbing for research funding.
Park Do-jun was a folklore professor. But folklore wasn't exactly a lucrative field, so the pool of funding sources was thin to begin with — and what little funding did exist was mostly hogged by older, senior professors. Back when he still burned with love for folklore, Park Do-jun had racked his brain over how to attract public attention and secure funding. The answer he arrived at was hunting fraudulent psychics.
His deep knowledge of folklore, paired with the psychology he'd minored in all the way to a master's degree, was more than enough to humiliate con artists posing as psychics. A fraud who whipped out talismans of domestic tranquility or prosperity while claiming to perform exorcisms lasted exactly one second in front of Park Do-jun.
The world was in the grip of an unprecedented occult boom these days, and naturally, the popularity and name recognition of Park Do-jun — its living antithesis — had skyrocketed as a result. Thanks to that, Park Do-jun was riding high. Within a few years, he was even able to pay his teaching assistants minimum wage.
But at some point the tail had started wagging the dog — he was spending more time on broadcast appearances than on folklore research itself. And that bitter reality was where his disillusionment had come from.
Well. Somebody has to do this job, after all...
Park Do-jun steadied himself. Doing things you hate is what being an adult means. And for all his grumbling, he did take a certain satisfaction in exposing fake psychics. Publicly humiliating swindlers who preyed on people's anxieties meant fewer future fraud victims. What could be more constructive than that?
All right. Let's give it our best today, too.
Just as Park Do-jun was steeling himself—
Clack.
Another guest stepped into the waiting room.
“Oh, is this the cast waiting room?”
“I suppose so.”
Two men — one with a burly, athletic build, the other clearly showing signs of plastic surgery. Then the burly one spotted Park Do-jun and came over.
“Hello — would you happen to be a cast member of Producer Choi Ji-hoon's special program, Psychic Society?”
“I am. Professor Park Do-jun.”
When Park Do-jun gave his name, the burly man's eyes widened slightly. But only for a moment. He flashed a grin and pulled a slip of paper from his pocket.
“I'm the Kim Do-sa appearing as a guest this time. Since fate's brought us together, why not accept a talisman?”
“A talisman?”
Park Do-jun looked at the paper the man handed over.
“...A Post-it? No, it isn't.”
“Is there a law against writing talismans on Post-its?”
“That...”
Park Do-jun, who'd been about to fire back a rebuttal, found his words dying in his throat.
No. There really wasn't such a law.