Super Shaman-K (3): Insiders' Valhalla
If you ask where the most insiders gather in Korea, most people would say Caribbean Bay. But even Caribbean Bay can't hold a candle to the broadcasting station—this was the true Valhalla for insiders, the Hall of Fame. What is a broadcasting station, after all? Isn't it the place that reliably serves up entertainment for the nation's morning, lunch, dinner, and late-night slots? Naturally, the people coming and going there are the top 0.1% of insiders: celebrities, actors, idols, comedians. And the ones rubbing shoulders with them for long hours of work, hashing out ideas over endless discussions to produce something worthwhile—they belong in the insider realm too. People who make shows tailored to insiders' tastes can't possibly be losers, right? Losers only make stuff for other losers.
Anyway, the Supernatural Phenomena Resolution Office assembled a four-man squad and headed to KBA Broadcasting Station. We breezed in with just a quick verification that we'd been contacted by PD Eom beforehand—something sasaeng fans would pull every trick in the book to infiltrate. Aside from having to wear visitor necklaces at all times, we felt pretty VIP. Especially satisfying was the envious stares from the sasaengs and paparazzi lurking in the distance, hoping for a sneaky shot of some celeb coming or going.
"This is the insiders' life...?"
"Indeed, a broadcasting station is a place ordinary folks rarely get to experience. I once appeared on a child prodigy quiz show when I was young, and it's still a fresh memory."
This guy's got so much experience, you wonder if there's anything he hasn't done—nothing fazes him anymore.
"I did some kid modeling gigs after that too, but my parents prioritized school and my future, so from middle school on, I lived like a normal person."
"Normal people don't have kid modeling experience."
Back in the day, I was smart enough to memorize the Bible front to back, so with a bit of luck, maybe I'd have ended up on a prodigy quiz show too. Though if things didn't go my way on air, my anger issues would've blown up into a full-blown broadcast disaster. Whatever—twenty years of childhood is ancient history now. I'm an adult looking twenty years ahead. No more pipe dreams of kid modeling; it's time to aim for rising star of broadcasting, Best Actor nominee Han Daeri.
"Speaking of which, did we really all need to come? S oppa and I aren't even appearing."
"You need to see firsthand what we do, how we make money, and the massive effort it takes to keep you fed. Think learning on the job is easy?"
"You just say that knowing your food bill's the highest."
"I'm the boss, so it's fine if mine's high."
Boss = big eater. Call it a dignity maintenance fee and it's easier to swallow. Plus, my hand keeps rotting away and regenerating in real time—it needs constant calorie refills.
"Ah! It's V-ONE! You know their summer track was so addictive it got banned for this year's college entrance exam?"
"Kids who remember exam ban songs are always the ones who suck at studying."
"I got average grade 2 on my last mock exam?"
"S-man, give this kid a reality check."
"An average grade 2 is the kind of score only bad students pull, right?"
The elite who'd aced the entrance exam, smashed through the gates of a top university, and climbed to S Group shut the high schooler up cold. Proof positive I could counter both the madwoman and the kid. That's the boss's 'authority'.
"Tsk, shamans shouldn't set foot in places like this if they can help it. Too many worldly types—it's a problem."
"Teacher, no favorite celebs?"
"Showbiz is the second filthiest pit after politics. Folks like us... it chokes the air here."
Even decked out in feminine fashion and makeup courtesy of the high schooler—fitting right in appearance-wise—the madwoman looked downright uncomfortable.
"This is where humanity's dank, ugly desires congeal: showbiz. It looks flashy and bright on the surface, fooling people, but it's a sewer overflowing with filth. The grudges piled up here? Enough bound spirits to fill a truck."
"Haha, couldn't agree more."
The one chiming in so casually with the madwoman's spot-on read was a plump middle-aged guy with a kindly face. His name tag read Eom Geun-seok PD—aka PD Eom, who'd invited us.
"Nice to meet you, PD Eom Geun-seok. I should've come out to greet you busy folks myself... but as you know, meetings since morning, rounding up people, juggling schedules—total chaos. And with this gut, I even skipped lunch, haha!"
"Han Daeri, president of the Supernatural Phenomena Resolution Office."
I handed him a business card. He took it with a puzzled look.
"Han Daeri... Han Daeri... Wait, the one blowing up on that horror YouTube channel lately?"
"Who knows? There's more than one Han Daeri out there. Anyway, as I mentioned on the call, I'm colleagues with the medium here, Yonghwa Seonnyeo. I'm the boss; she's the employee."
"Fascinating. Never imagined the legendary Yonghwa Seonnyeo working as a regular staffer."
"That famous?"
"Oh yeah. My seniors who've done ghost specials know folks in your line well, and Yonghwa Seonnyeo's the talk of the town. Youngest ever to serve a dragon god, adopted daughter of a goddess, roaming Odae Mountain and the eight provinces solving major cases. And she's barely early twenties? Incredible."
The high schooler puffed up like it was her praise, so I grabbed her head and squashed her arrogance.
"Hearing it like that, yeah, she sounds amazing."
"Exactly. I specifically requested her for our show—thrilled it worked out. And the other two...?"
"This is S-man, ex-S Group now on our payroll. The little rat here is... uh, Yonghwa Seonnyeo's adopted daughter."
The madwoman shot me a glare, but words were out—no take-backs. Better for PR anyway.
"Ah, got it. Yonghwa Seonnyeo already taking an adopted daughter—congrats are in order..."
"No need. What's celebratory about dooming her to shaman life?"
"Mm, some shamans do feel guilty dragging others into it. But learning under someone like you? Pure luck. Oh, keeping guests outside too long—details in the meeting room! Others are waiting."
PD Eom didn't boot S-man or the kid with a polite "sorry, staff only." Figured their novelty value for airtime? He waved us all in without hesitation. Chief producer's stamp of approval—no worries there.
"Mm, PD Eom, must've been a hassle rounding everyone up."
"Haha, Yonghwa Seonnyeo gets it. Winter ghost special—had to be careful."
Before entering, the madwoman pressed a hand seal to the high schooler's forehead.
"Overlay?"
"Yeah, not showing her off raw to fellow pros."
Overlay: masking someone's presence with your own energy. Like animals marking territory with piss. Cloak their scent, their power—opponents can't sniff out the truth. PD Eom seemed oblivious, but her caution meant the room held real heavyweights. I'd pegged most TV shamans/mediums as fame-hungry, greedy con artists soaked in worldly crap (present company excluded). Unexpected.
The door swung open, and a talisman shot like a dagger—felt almost routine. Chab! I snatched it mid-air before it pierced my eye. The yellow paper's chicken blood boiled, melting into my palm. Last glimpse: the character for "Extinction."
A step above standard exorcism talismans, etched with heavier karma—not for casual use. Wielder and target both rack up massive sin.
"No need to risk extinction karma on riffraff like us, shaman sir."
Brushing past flustered PD Eom, the madwoman chided softly. A dry chuckle echoed from inside.
"Heh, dismissed rumors of mighty Yonghwa Seonnyeo duped by trash as nonsense, but it's true?"
"Who else? You'd regret it in your twilight years, elder."
"This husk won't last anyway—worth a shot. Blocked easier than expected."
"Understand your feelings, but mind the setting. Civilians present."
"Ahem, right. Sit, then. Seeing death messengers perks up this old mind."
I wiped chicken blood off with table wet wipes, scanning the room. Old-timer with a wispy mustache-tail beard: the "shaman." Around him, seven men and women stared with varied glares, lips sealed. With us two, ten total—checks out. Their gods, contracts, guardians all radiated menace. Real anger-issue cases right here. Slipping on my glowing golden knuckle duster in plain view, I took my seat.
"From here on, it's self-defense."
Bitch if you wanna—bring your guardians and come at me.