Where the Mermaid's Tears Flow [4]

Indangsu — the waters where humans are fed.

It is the sea into which Sim Cheong threw herself in The Tale of Sim Cheong, to calm the Dragon King's rage. A sea that stills its fury only at the price of human lives. A sea that devours people.

Indangsu.

"But why would Indangsu suddenly come up here of all places?"

"I honestly don't know the details beyond that point. However..."

Park Do-jun powered on the tablet he'd brought and brought up a single photograph. It was a picture of the Korean peninsula.

"This area — the waters near Jangsan Cape in Hwanghae Province, North Korean territory today — is considered the single most likely candidate for the Indangsu of the Sim Cheong tale."

Park Do-jun drew a circle on the screen with his stylus.

"And this is Yeoin Island, where we are right now."

He marked a star not far from the circle.

"...That's closer than I expected."

Yeoin Island sat at the far northwestern tip of the islands belonging to Taean County, so in a straight line, the distance really was remarkably short.

Come to think of it, that presence approaching from beyond the sea had also been coming from the north.

"The Tale of Sim Cheong is, to begin with, one of the strangest folktales in all of Korean folklore."

Park Do-jun continued, wearing an expression impossible to read as either terror or excitement.

"A Buddha restoring a man's sight in exchange for an offering. A Dragon King who devours people. And for that matter, it's clearly a tale that originated in Korea, yet the setting bounces back and forth between China and Korea depending on the era..."

After mumbling on for quite a while, Park Do-jun fidgeted with his chin, visibly uneasy, and spoke.

"...It isn't exact, but this stretch of sea was called Indangsu roughly five hundred years ago... and we date the legend of Yeoin Island to about the same period..."

A folktale and the name Indangsu, born in tandem, like a matched pair.

"Here's the strange part. The original legend of Yeoin Island — the simple tale that a mermaid lives on this island — is far older than that. The legend only grew flesh and substance once the surrounding waters came to be called Indangsu."

Having said that much, Park Do-jun reached his conclusion with a face gone deathly pale.

"...It may sound like lunacy, but I believe this man-eating stretch of sea — the place-name Indangsu — is moving. And the tale of the mermaids' salvation, which arose at the same time, was grafted on as a form of psychological resistance to the reality of Indangsu taking root in these waters."

Indangsu — a living stretch of ocean that greedily swallowed human beings whole.

And the true nature of that Indangsu was, in all likelihood...

"...And tomorrow is the day of the Mermaid Offering Festival, held in honor of the woman who took her own life and the mermaids. It hasn't been held these past several years, but... thanks to your exorcism of the water spirits, Kim Dosa, they say it will be held again..."

"......"

"We'll... be all right, won't we?"

This was presumably the point of the whole briefing, because Park Do-jun asked with the pleading look of a man praying at an altar.

"Yes, we'll be fine. Whatever exists on this island, whatever happens here... we'll be leaving before the festival."

"R-right, of course... yes, now that I think about it, you're right..."

Park Do-jun let out a long breath of relief.

Just then, something occurred to me, and I showed him a photograph of my own.

"You said you're a professor of folklore, Park Do-jun. Would you happen to know what this is?"

"This is..."

What I showed him was one of the wooden tablets I'd photographed at the ritual sites scattered across the island. These tablets had sat at the heart of each ritual, so if the tablet could be deciphered, the true nature of the rites would be laid bare.

"Do you recognize the figure painted here?"

Park Do-jun studied the photograph intently, thought for a moment, and answered.

"That would be... the three-legged crow, I believe. The samjogo."

"The three-legged crow?"

"Yes. Look closely — doesn't this here look like a third leg?"

"Oh — you're right."

The image was so abstract it had been hard to make out, but sure enough, just as Park Do-jun said, it could absolutely be read as a third leg.

"More than that — see the circle behind the crow's back? That would be the sun. The three-legged crow is a divine beast that symbolizes the sun."

"I see... then here's what puzzles me. Why is the three-legged crow painted upside down?"

"...It isn't upside down... isn't it falling?"

"...Oh!"

The instant I heard those words, I understood. The meaning of the rituals performed all over Yeoin Island. And what manner of great rite Kang So-hwa had been preparing.

"Thank you, Park Do-jun! You've cracked the riddle wide open!"

"Huh? Oh — yes, of course!"

Indangsu, the name by which these coastal waters were once known. The colossal ritual and spell Kang So-hwa had been preparing. Where those two interlocked, a good portion of the island's secret came into focus.

But a few riddles remained. Namely, the "mermaid" part of it all.

What exactly did "the mermaids who guarded the island" mean?

To find out, I decided to resort to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a special measure. Namely...

"Ahem — khem, ahh. Not bad, if I do say so myself."

Disguised as the village chief through the Cheongangsu shapeshifting art, I would approach the villagers directly. In case I ran into the real chief face-to-face, I'd set Wang Lingguan to tail him. Then I drifted along the village outskirts, striking up casual conversation with anyone standing alone.

"Getting by all right, are ye?"

"Oh, Chief! Aren't you in the thick of it right now? What brings you out this way?"

A middle-aged man who looked to be in his fifties bowed his head respectfully.

Drawing the conversation out served no purpose, so I went straight to the heart of it.

"Nothing much. Tomorrow's the festival day, no? We couldn't hold it for all those years, and with it coming back I've been a touch uneasy — thought I'd clear my head with a walk."

At that, the man nodded along.

"Truth be told... I've been on pins and needles myself these days. Years without the festival, and now the sea lanes have turned rough and the fish barely come up in the nets... and more than anything..."

The middle-aged man shuddered as if a chill had crawled up his spine, then scratched at his arm.

Skrritch-skrrritch.

"Hm?"

Just now... that scratching sound was a little...

"Why are you doing that?"

"No — no, it's nothing at all..."

After that, I made the rounds of the village, slipping casual questions to the residents wherever I went. And every single time, their answers were the same. The sea passages were rough, and it frightened them. The fish weren't coming ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up. They prayed this year's festival would go well. And... for some reason, every last one of them clutched their own bodies close with terror written across their faces.

"Ugh... I'm getting nowhere..."

The villagers' reactions were far too vague. The only thing I'd managed to glean was that the island's population skewed strangely, impossibly male.

As I sat there groaning over a truth just barely out of reach, watching the western shore where preparations for the Mermaid Offering Festival were in full swing—

"You seem to have something on your mind."

Someone spoke to me from behind. I turned to find a beautiful woman with long black hair styled in that distinctive Japanese hime cut, smiling as she gazed out at the sea.

A total stranger — and a stunning one, beautiful enough to stop you in your tracks — had approached me out of nowhere. Under ordinary circumstances I might have indulged some fool notion like, Wait, does this mean I won't be spending this Christmas alone? but...

"Yes, there is something I've been mulling over."

Right now I had far too many worries to spare time for that.

"Hmm. Might I ask what it is you're worried about?"

But at my flat, unenthusiastic reply, the woman only took a step closer and settled in beside me.

Going by her clothes, she looked like another tourist come to see the Mermaid Offering Festival. What good would it do to pour my heart out to a tourist, and not even a local at that...

Still, there was something distinctly off about this woman's atmosphere.

A psychic, maybe?

Going by the presence I could feel from her, probably not... but it wasn't entirely not that, either. Something in between, so to speak.

"Are you, perhaps... a practitioner of some shrine or mystical art, or something of that sort?"

"A mystical art? Fufufu... do I look it? That's a rather unusual line for making a pass at someone."

"No, this isn't a pass — you're the one who came up and spoke to me—"

"You said you had a worry, didn't you?"

Apparently she had no intention of listening to another soul.

"Yes. That's right."

"Sometimes a worry untangles itself surprisingly easily when you simply take it at face value."

"At face value?"

"Yes. Worry, by its nature, is usually born of overcomplicating things for no good reason. Some worries, taken exactly as they are, turn out to be their own answer."

With that, the woman gave a bright smile, turned, and walked away. Before she'd gotten far, she glanced back over her shoulder at me.

"I'm glad you turned out to be far more impressive than I'd imagined. Someone of this caliber is worth the trip from Japan to Korea."

And with that, she was gone.

The moment she disappeared, it hit me.

"...Don't tell me she's a fan of my YouTube channel!?"

No way. There were Japanese people among my fans!?

"Damn it, Kim Dosa, you stupid idiot!"

And I'd been this cold to an overseas fan without even knowing it! Damn it, you idiot, Kim Dosa! More hard fan service! More hard streaming!

...But still. At face value? At face value, hmm...

"At face value..."

In that instant, someone's words flashed through my mind.

"Haha! That's right! As those in the know are aware, our Yeoin Island is famous as an island where mermaids live. They say the village folk today are descended from the children born of exiled scholars who fell in love with mermaids — who knows, maybe I've got mermaid blood in me too. Hahaha!"

"Ah......"

It was exactly as the overseas fan had said. I simply needed to take it at face value.

To test my hypothesis, I asked Fey, who was sitting in a bucket of water nearby.

"Fey, don't demons often demand a person's life, or their soul, as the price of a contract?"

"Indeed they do. They are a vulgar lot, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unlike we fairies."

"Then..."

At my question, Fey gave a nod of her small head.

"Thou speakest true. Though of course, it may vary with circumstance."

"And when would it vary?"

"When the former is the more precious."

"More precious" was a vague way to put it, but the meaning came to me at once. Because I had already witnessed, once before, the kind of incident that arises from a prize of such surpassing value.

Vrrrrmmm.

Just then, a call came through. It was Park Do-jun.

With the additional detail Park Do-jun had dug up, the last missing sliver of the puzzle clicked into place. I now had a nearly complete picture of the truth of this island.

The question was whether to intervene in this affair — or not.

I was an outsider. I had no obligation to stick my nose into the business of Yeoin Island, Kang So-hwa, Indangsu, and the presence from beyond. I could simply board tomorrow's ferry and go on my way, clean and unbothered.

Frankly speaking, that would be the wiser course. And yet...

"Damn it, fine, I don't know. I'll watch how tomorrow plays out and decide then."

If it came to it, there was always the option of sending the whole party ahead and staying behind alone.

"No matter what happens, I can pull my own body out of the fire."

After all, I had come to this remote island armed with Daoist arts I'd prepared with great care.

That night.

In a house halfway up a mountain, far from any of Yeoin Island's homes, Kang So-hwa steeled her resolve.

I can do this... did I not devote all those long years for this very purpose?

Kang So-hwa looked back on the day her fate was sealed, and on the thirty years she had spent away from the island. And on the ten more she had spent here, playing the madwoman, after completing every preparation and returning.

A full forty years. Forty years.

The skin that had once been firm hung slack now; her joints ached day after day; her spine had bent until she'd shrunk in stature. Forty years was more than enough to wither and dim everything.

But one thing had not dimmed, even after forty years. The memory of that day. The rage of that day. And...

"If only I could see you... just one more time. Just once more..."

Kang So-hwa drew out a black-and-white photograph, worn past old and tattered to rags, and stroked it gently. It was still vivid to her. The overwhelming feeling when this child had first been born. The softness of those plump little cheeks. The shy, beaming smile the child would give when her head was patted. And that last moment — the frightened smile the child had forced for her sake.

From Kang So-hwa's eyes, tears she had thought long dried up came spilling down.

"My child... wait but a little longer. I will come to thee soon."

Kang So-hwa tucked the photograph against her breast and steeled her resolve once more.

The preparations for the spell were perfect. Just as the vows a Buddha awakens to and establishes carry a mighty spiritual power in and of themselves, the myths and deeds of legend hold a potent magical force of their own. And the spell Kang So-hwa had prepared was one that embodied the deed of a hero specialized for opposing that thing.

Had she not traveled all the way to that distant land of Tianzhu and studied there for decades to learn this spell?

"Kukukuku... I was truly reckless in those days..."

Even now, it amazed her that such a reckless gamble had actually succeeded. Back then, ordinary people couldn't travel abroad at all. So Kang So-hwa had to stow away. A woman in her thirties, with neither money nor connections, smuggling herself overseas alone. Learning a secret art in a land ten thousand miles away, where not a word of the language made sense. To anyone, from any angle, it sounded like the ravings of a madwoman — but Kang So-hwa had done it. And she had come back here.

The spell was so immensely powerful that Kang So-hwa, whose aptitude was never anything special, had needed ten years for preparation alone. But that long, long era of endurance was finally over.

At tomorrow's Mermaid Offering Festival, she would hurl everything she had built over forty years against it. Whatever happened to the village as a result was none of Kang So-hwa's concern.

And so, meaning to retire early and prepare for tomorrow, Kang So-hwa's eyes snapped open just before dawn arrived.

"...Why now!?"

It made no sense. Why? There was still time left!?

She didn't know the reason. No — it didn't matter what the reason was. That wasn't what was important now.

"I will avenge that child."

Kang So-hwa hastily gathered her things and bolted from the house.

"Heyyy~ greetings, all you Siscons out there~!"

Soda of the Sisters started up a personal stream against the backdrop of Yeoin Island's night sea. It wasn't a professional streaming gig — just a channel she occasionally opened to talk with her fans.

The viewer count blew past thirty thousand the moment she went live. firepower worthy of a trending idol these days. Seeing it, Soda smiled a gloating little smile inside.

See that? Even back on [Psychic Society], all that firepower was my star power doing the work~

Soda, who nursed a rivalry with Kim Dosa — subtle at first, then increasingly blatant — had opened this solo stream brooding over how the cameras had stolen every scrap of focus for Kim Dosa during filming. But then...

"U-uum... I wasn't on the boat with them at the time, so I really couldn't say~"

What Soda wanted to do was bark It was all staged, you morons! straight into the camera, but she wasn't quite without a sense of professionalism. Like it or not, business was business. Never doing anything that could damage a program currently on air — that was her professional creed.

Then—

"What? What did you say!?"

Startled by the chat, Soda spun around — and sure enough, far down the western shore where she was streaming, she could see someone walking into the water.

"What on earth is—!"

Shocked out of her wits, Soda bolted straight for the shore. She was so rattled that none of the sensible responses came to her — calling emergency services, raising the alarm, anything. She just ran.

As the distance closed, the figure wading into the water came into focus.

"Tsukumo Momo!?"

The truth was, Soda and Tsukumo Momo went way back. More precisely, only Soda knew who Tsukumo Momo was — they'd crossed paths back in their audition days.

Back then, Tsukumo Momo had been radiant. Her dancing and singing both outclassed Soda's own, and above all she had a demonic charisma that drew people in. As the years passed and Soda learned that the girl who had once burned her with pure envy had failed to become an idol and turned VTuber instead, she had sneered inwardly.

I won.

...Or so she'd thought. But whatever the past held, Soda threw herself into the night sea to save Tsukumo Momo.

"Are you insane!? What are you doing!?"

So what if they'd only exchanged a few glances at an audition? So what if she'd privately sneered at her failure and savored a little sense of superiority? A person was a person, and people got saved. Above all, Soda had confidence in herself. She was a swimming diehard who'd placed in multiple youth swimming competitions as a kid.

"Hng—!"

Tsukumo Momo ignored her calls entirely and kept wading deeper. Soda cut through the water with sleek, practiced strokes, caught up, and seized her from behind.

"Are you insane!? Snap out of it!"

Shaking Tsukumo Momo from behind, Soda soon realized she was wearing some strange cloak over her body.

"What is this? Scales?"

Puzzlement could wait; Soda locked her grip on the still-deeper-bound Momo and forced herself backward through the water.

"Ugh, what is all this seaweed—!"

Dragging Tsukumo Momo out for dear life, Soda grimaced at the tangles wrapping around her limbs with every stroke. But... something was wrong. Seaweed... was it? It was unnaturally thin for seaweed. Then kelp? Kelp did have that slick, smooth feel, come to think of it. No... this wasn't quite right either. Softer than kelp...

"Hair? Oh......"

Only then did Soda understand. That this stuff tangled around her hands and feet was human hair — and that the figures surrounding her and Tsukumo Momo, bloated fat with seawater, had closed in a ring around them both.

"Guh— glub! Glp—!"

The psychological shock hit so hard that her legs cramped violently. She flailed her arms and legs desperately, but raw panic kept her from surfacing. And so Soda and Tsukumo Momo began to sink together into the dark water below.

"Some—!"

She thrashed like a madwoman, but she was reaching her limit. The weight of two bodies. The psychological shock. Legs cramped and useless.

"Ah...!"

With a last gasp, the two of them sank down between the water spirits.

Knowing she could never reach it, Soda stretched her hand toward the surface all the same. And in that moment—

Gotcha.

A hand, huge and powerfully built, closed around Soda's. And in a single motion, it hauled the two of them up out of the water. Yanked abruptly into the air, Soda saw it — the face of a hateful, detestable man, silhouetted against the full moon as he pulled them up.

"Honestly, you have a positively ridiculous number of hands!"