Deliver Us from Evil
"Deliver us from evil." "Evil! Save me! Evil! Evil!"
I was getting periodically smacked around on the bed of a pickup truck barreling down the highway. Whether the wind was swallowing my screams, or S-man and Haksik were just pretending not to know me, I couldn't tell. What I did know was that getting beaten in the middle of the road fucking sucked.
It felt like being a kid throwing a tantrum in front of the toy aisle at the department store, getting whacked with Mom and Dad's slippers. Humiliation 30%, injustice 30%, pleasure from the pain 40%—that combo corrupts a human fast. In the end, to preserve the last shred of human dignity, I proposed negotiations to the Mad Woman.
"Violence... troublesome."
"Shut up."
"Evil!" No, how the fuck am I supposed to shut up when my ass is splitting in real time? It was so goddamn absurd I felt tears pricking my eyes, but I held back. Me, Han Daeri—I've lived as a real man and never cried from a woman's blows. Not once. And never will.
This farce only stopped when we exited the highway and hit downtown Seoul, but even then, the Mad Woman wouldn't quit sitting on me in the truck bed. People on the street whispered about us or snuck photos, which was par for the course. And whenever we stopped at a light, drivers from other cars zeroed in on me.
As I pondered why the boss gets the embarrassment when it's the employee's antics causing it, the truck pulled up to the Mad Woman's divination shop.
"Get off."
"You know you look like a slave trader from the Age of Discovery hauling black folks on a ship right now?"
"I'm not whipping you."
"Of course you shouldn't."
It looks like hardcore SM play in the middle of the street. Whatever I grumbled, the Mad Woman kicked me off the truck bed with her foot. Then she glanced at the ghost story club members piling out of the following van and told them all to come inside.
Her bossy attitude—saying her piece and marching into the shop—was beyond expectations, but no one called her on it. Instead, Haksik sidled up to me, thinking this was her chance to get snarky.
"Truth is, I didn't wanna do it, but Teacher was really pissed about this whole thing. Uncle, you were so pitiful I tried to stop her somehow, but no dice. You get how I feel, right?"
"Don't play like you know me."
"Exactly. Outsiders stay out."
I jabbed Haksik's forehead with my fingertip and shoved her back; S-man did the same to her head. Unable to withstand two guys' "finger strikes," Haksik stumbled away weakly. I wanted to go full wasp's nest on her ass, but too many eyes around.
"Ahem! Alright, everyone, let's head in."
We herded the still-hesitant ghost story club members into the shop, where the usual ajumma greeted us with a bow.
"Whoa, so this is the divination shop."
"Fact: Smells like a shaman joint."
"Uncle, you know the shaman lady? Then you should've introduced her instead of yourself!"
"Ji-ah, shh..."
"No, Seol-ha, you say something too. That uncle got my phone wrecked!"
That was just karma for invading someone's portrait rights. No need for me to fix her smartphone.
"Don't yap outside—get in here!"
At the bellow from inside, we climbed the beam to the inner room. I couldn't hold back my curiosity about why she was so hysterical, so I poked S-man's side and asked.
"What's her deal? Is it sorcery day or something?"
"Doesn't seem like her period."
"Then why?"
"She's been grumbling to herself like she can't hold her temper for the last two days. Stomping her feet outta nowhere, slamming the floor with her steel fan. But when I asked why, she wouldn't say. Though she cursed you out like the Avatamsaka Sutra, so you're probably a big part of it."
"Fuck, all I did was work alone."
Who do they think foots the bill for their livelihoods? Useless freeloaders. The boss scrapes by on kongnamul gukbap and instant ramen, pinching pennies till his bones grind, while these employees don't help a damn speck. The world's in its end times.
"If anyone's got a right to feel wronged, it's me. I was taking her lesson directly, so all that fallout dumped straight on me."
"So?"
"Wow, you save one person and then act like you don't give a shit?"
"You're not worth my interest."
My concern's only for sinners repenting and believing in Jesus to reach heaven. No reason to fuss over some half-baked high school girl who's neither.
As we traded banter, the Mad Woman lined up the ghost story club members in front of the altar in the shrine room. Then, like some Confucian geezer patriarch, she plopped down in front of them, slammed her steel fan on the floor with a crack!, and tore into them.
"Do you even grasp what mess you've caused?!"
"H-Honestly... we don't really know... We were just doing club activities..."
"You lot were the root of this incident. If you'd just asked a local shaman to tag along, that would've been fine. But no, you dragged that in, and now everything's tangled up good and proper!"
She jabbed her fan at me, and the club members whipped around to stare.
"Heads front."
I raised my fist, and their gazes snapped back to her. Hope they know shooting looks like that at their lifesaver is fucking rude.
"That thing you just turned to look at? It's not your typical shaman or spirit medium. Not a Catholic priest or Buddhist monk either. It's not even human, beast, or god—it's a walking natural disaster. Does any sane person hurl themselves naked into an earthquake, tsunami, or hurricane?"
"No."
"Right, of course not. Only a lunatic would. And from what I see, none of you are that crazy. One's got her eyes open, but she's not fated for this path."
Park Seol-ha flinched, Lee Ji-ah perked up, but that wasn't the point.
"Even top shamans can't handle what I did for 500k a day as a freebie. Why treat me like the weirdo?"
"If you hadn't gotten involved, they'd have listened to a shaman and stayed out of danger. You dragged them into excess risk, and sure, you saved them—but does that make it a good deed?"
"Korea's a results-only society. Good outcome's all that matters."
Like how cramming students obsess less over the nosebleed study grind and more over nailing top grades to kick down Seoul Uni's doors. But the Mad Woman had no intention of crediting me.
"I know every place you passed through to meet these kids, every blasphemous act you pulled. The elders I serve told me every sin in detail."
"Don't remember getting caught."
"In the Samdocheon? Or reality?"
"Both."
Peeing!Thwuck!
No sooner had I answered than a needle the length of a nail flew straight into my forehead. It pierced exactly the blood point through the brow, burrowing into a skull fissure toward my brain—but I yanked it out first.
"Tch. Thought it'd at least knock you out so the death messengers could bind your soul tight."
"Feel the difference in willpower?"
"Shut your trap. Heaven and earth, living and dead—all buzzing about you, giving me a damn headache."
Before I could ask what, quick-on-the-uptake S-man pulled up a list of YouTube videos.
🔥 "K-Exorcist's Debut? Who the Hell is Han Daeri?!"
👀 "Tragedy in an Unknown Village. Deleted Video Shows That Man Battling Evil Ghosts!"
🕵️ "'Han Daeri Videos'—Fake or Real? We Called in a Video Analysis Expert!"
😱 "Jesus Heaven, Nonbelievers Hell." Christianity in Chaos?!
😂 [Reaction] Showed 'Han Daeri Video' to My Priest Friend. "Goddamn."
Lee Ji-ah's sneaky filming had been a live stream; I figured wrecking her phone would erase it. But someone recorded the stream in that short time and spread it everywhere. Videos got deleted as fast as they popped up on YouTube and communities/portals, but "Han Daeri Videos" shorts were exploding anyway.
Small mercies: her shaky phone failed to focus, and backlit by the bonfire, my face barely showed. Problem was the unedited audio—sensitive dialogue and brutal fight sounds exposed raw.
That useless attention-whore loser bitch.
Beating down Lee Ji-ah or wiping every trace of me online—which is faster? Personally, the former.
"Anyway, you're tangled with that, so I can't just send you off. Do a soul-cleansing ritual here, take some aversion amulets, then go. And not a word to anyone. You know loose lips sink ships. If you blab and stir more shit, I can't help even if I want to. Keep it zipped. Got it?!"
The Mad Woman bellowed in her oddly grave tone, and the club members nodded, spooked.
"But verbal promises are shaky, so let's add a safeguard. Choi Jiyun."
"Yes, Teacher."
"Get 'oaths' from them."
"You sure that's okay?"
"I'll watch. That idiot who dumped you on me is here—show some results."
I hit S-man chance again amid their otaku gross-out talk I didn't get.
"Looks like she's gonna use that 'technique' she tested on you."
"What's that, otaku?"
"Hypnosis."
"It works?"
Fucking jealous.