Vagina Ledger vs. Han-nam Daeri (1)
Just because you're a shaman serving a great god doesn't mean you can sense every lingering spirit wandering the nine heavens. Grab Ghosts or Evil Ghosts are far easier to detect than a pet dog sniffing out its owner's hidden treats. But the cunning ones can sometimes slip past even the most perceptive shamans, leaving no trace or evading detection from the start. That said, such cases usually happen because the spirit notices the shaman first and hides its presence as best it can. If it has an aura too potent to conceal completely, it's caught nine times out of ten.
Shamans are like walking spirit radars. Pinpointing the flow of spiritual energy—where it starts, where it goes, how much there is, and the emotions carried within—isn't all that hard. At least, when dealing with pure, straightforward spirits. But the world doesn't run on simple rules, and spirits come in as many varieties as people do. A pathetic Grab Ghost bound by petty grudges wandering the afterlife? No problem. But there are always those vicious ones nursing hatred for human society itself, cursing and defiling all living things. Dealing with them is the hardest part of walking the path of the gods for any shaman.
"Makeup is a veil to hide one's true self out of necessity. To turn ugliness into beauty, a means of temporary communion to draw closer to another being. How could you fail to accept it fully and harbor such wicked intent...?"
Sin Dae-ho muttered to himself as he quietly shook his bell, following behind Yonghwa Seonnyeo. At first, when Ha Tae-jun whistled to stir the spirits and draw out their presence, he thought his eyes were playing tricks. This factory produced beauty. There was no room for filth—only meticulous craftsmanship in assembling complex machines to pursue perfection. Yet what answered Ha Tae-jun's call was ugliness incarnate, utterly out of place. Like a hornet squatting brazenly in a honeycomb, 'it' oozed black curse-miasma and bared its fangs.
Ha Tae-jun had quickly covered the camera the moment he sensed something wrong—good thing, too. If it had been captured on film, the malice would have leaked out into the world. Huge, reeking, filthy, and arrogant without a shred of shame. It was too vast in spiritual power to dismiss as a mere Evil Ghost.
Impure human emotions, Grab Ghosts swarming like moths to a flame, and intense grudge. Miraculously coalesced, birthing something that could never have emerged from this factory.
Not every spirit with grudges and harmful intent is an Evil Ghost. Even Grab Ghosts could manage that if they set their minds to it. The line between them boils down to power. Grab Ghosts can only barely slip into a human when they're recklessly exposing body and soul to danger, or desperately wishing for spirit contact. Evil Ghosts, on the other hand, can inflict direct harm whether the human wants it or not. They even assimilate fellow spirits to swell their power, which is why such entities are called Evil Ghosts.
But even Evil Ghosts have limits to their strength. Toying with one or two humans is easy, but warping the entire environment or harming crowds? That's beyond a mere 'ghost.' One step above the instinct-driven 'ghost' lies an entity with true intelligence and will, pursuing clear goals while gnawing at human society. Shamans call them Evil Gods.
Gods unworthy of worship, offering no aid even if served. Malignant tumors incompatible with shamans whose purpose is to bring order, peace, and divine providence to humanity. Gazing at Yonghwa Seonnyeo, who had strongly borrowed the Dragon God's power—a rare sight—Sin Dae-ho felt certain. He eyed the small dragon god coiled gently around her neck and quietly chanted a sutra, staff in hand.
Suddenly, sounds unheard until now crashed in like a tidal wave.
—Kekekekeke!
—You think you'll fit into a swimsuit this summer like that?
—I'm embarrassed to be seen with you!
—Seriously, why does she keep hanging around us?
—Ugh, you kill my appetite...
—Don't you get sick of wearing the same old clothes?
—Feminism? What's that?
—Don't recommend weird books to the guys. Read that shit yourself!
—Short hair? Why would you do that? You look like a dude.
—Corset-free...? What's a corset?
—She's kinda weird.
—Who cares if we wear makeup or shit our faces? What's it to you?
—You could use some. What the hell's wrong with your skin?
—Hey! Even guys wear BB cream these days. You're uglier than a man right now.
—This is the Women's Solidarity Club. No men allowed... Oh, you're a woman.
—Get a job, you pig! Mom's stomach turns just looking at you!
—Dad lined up a factory job. Start tomorrow. They give out employee cosmetics sometimes. Aren't you at that age where you save on makeup?
—You don't use cosmetics anyway, right? Sis'll take 'em for you~
"Urk...!"
Sin Dae-ho barely pushed back the onrushing torrent of emotions and caught his breath. Even he, a man, felt it this strongly—how must Yonghwa Seonnyeo, a woman, handle it? She shook her bell calmly, drawing in even the lingering emotional residue swirling around. There was a prophecy that a mystical fairy with the dragon's orb would be born on the peninsula—not entirely wrong, it seemed.
What the hell is this thing giving even Yonghwa Seonnyeo trouble...? No, not the time for stray thoughts.
Sin Dae-ho pulled out a talisman, wrapped it tightly around the golden-ornamented tip of his staff, and formed a mudra with his fingers.
"Here and now, under the Buddha's merit, all sins shall vanish and light shall shine..."
"The wicked retreat, the virtuous raise their heads, and the lotus blooms from the mud."
⟨ Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva ⟩
The talisman wrapped around the staff tip trembled, then burst into blue flames. The cameraman behind diligently filmed, but Sin Dae-ho paid no mind. He wasn't doing this for show, nor did he have shallow merits to boast about. He did what he could, what he must. Who watched didn't matter. With the Buddha watching all, what weight did mortal eyes hold?
Still, the talisman burned far too quickly for his liking.
Wicked, so wicked. No wonder it bared its fangs at us. Truly tragic.
The Buddha embraces sinners with compassion, tolerance, and love. Even one with vast merits can crumble from a single act of killing. It shows how Buddhism values life. Unlike Han Daeri, facing his first killing karma, this entity was still salvageable. Yet the grudge was so immense, even his power might fall short. How hellish must its life have been to remain unyielding in death?
Ting-a-ling.
The bell stopped. Sin Dae-ho shook the ashes of the fully burned talisman from his staff.
"I get it—the sting of not being respected. We've faced finger-pointing and harsh words on the divine path too. This world has plenty who can't understand or accept differences. But that doesn't excuse harming the innocent or devouring poor spirits."
—Pretty things... all must die! Makeup-sluts, plastic-surgery whores, fake-boobed bitches, fat-dissolving injection cunts—die die die die die die die die die die die!!!
"You crave understanding for yourself but offer none to others. Isn't that contradictory? How can others accept what you reject?"
—What do you know, you skeleton-skinny hag!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"True, I have no same-sex friends my age, let alone opposite-sex ones, so I wouldn't know. Never built normal relationships. My days were honing body and mind, enduring to keep my soul pure. Never even went to college like everyone else. But even I know society's norms, etiquette, mutual respect. I can't fully grasp your pain, but you can't grasp your victims' either, right? One-sided bonds end badly. You can guess yours, can't you?"
—Shut uuuuuuuuuup!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A thick makeup stench wafted as it emerged from the wall, squealing like a pig at slaughter and thrashing. Nearby objects rattled and fell. To the camera, it'd look like mere debris shifting.
—If I couldn't have it, neither can you! You'll all end up like meeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Don't play dumb. If you were truly mindless rage, you'd have attacked the broadcast crew who scouted here first."
—Smartass, huh?
Sin Dae-ho gave a bitter smile, grasping the implication. The crew had come first and left unharmed—meaning it had calculated and spared them. Cunning as any criminal. Their group, with innate spiritual power, was the real target from the start.
An Evil God through and through.
This was the gulf between 'ghost' and 'god.' As Sin Dae-ho drew a bundle of talismans, a crash echoed from afar.
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