"You Eating Okay?" "Since When Do You Care About Other People's Meals?" "I've Always Been a Sweet Guy Who Looks After Food!" – Han Daeri Man, or Han-nam for Short.
I dragged the Mad Woman, still staring blankly at the gently lapping waves, to the dockside and plopped her down in a folding chair. Since my fishing gear came loaded with utensils and cookware, whipping up a quick pack of ramen wasn't much trouble.
I gave S-man a thumbs-up for his sharp eye in picking up some Jin Ramen spicy, then suddenly wondered if boiling it in super-salty seawater might resurrect even deeper flavor. Jinsoon stays jinsoon no matter how little water you use, so maybe it was time to ditch the fixed idea of plain water.
"Looks like no bites for anyone—they're all heading back early before it's even dark."
By the time we were boiling ramen right in the middle of the dock, waves slapping and a chill sea breeze blowing, most of the anglers nearby had packed up for their lodgings. No fish biting, no action even after crawling onto the breakwater to cast— even pro anglers with iron patience must've clocked it was a bust today.
"No wonder. Whatever's swimming around down there ain't fish."
"For something like that, if you listen close, you can hear plop, plop—fish jumping at the surface, right?"
I ribbed S-man as he lifted steaming noodles with chopsticks, letting the natural sea breeze season them.
"You think they just pop up and don't come back down?"
"...Ah."
Fish jumping should come with a splash or slap afterward, big or small. These water grudge spirits hunker under the surface, bob their heads up with a plop to fool anglers into thinking it's fish, then snatch the bait and reel when the line hits the water. Or they hook something steeped in their grudges instead. To escape the water, they need human help—or sacrifice—so even seasoned anglers fall for it in a blink.
Following Korea's time-honored respect for elders, I got first dibs on the noodle-packed bowl and went full throttle on the slurping. The spicy ramen, infused with crisp, briny sea air, was pure bliss—the chewy strands melting away my boiling rage like snow in my mouth.
The Mad Woman couldn't resist my intense mukbang ASMR either; she grudgingly took her bowl and started eating.
"By the way, Yonghwa Seonnyeo. You said something 'bad' was lurking in the sea—what exactly?"
"Jaws?"
"Ghost ship."
Dang, close but no cigar!
"Some grudge spirits from wrongful deaths at sea became water grudges too strong even for Lord Yong's power to crush outright. One type: folks who died on ships. Built to carry people across the ocean, but empty now—so the water grudges fill the void. That's why they're water grudges the Dragon King can't easily smash, free to roam the seas as they please."
"Ghost ship... Now that's straight out of a movie mystery. Even an empty vessel drifts with currents and winds till it smashes reefs or sinks from breakdown. How could a crewless ghost ship haunt just this stretch of water?"
"Weird coming from me, but after working under this guy, you ain't seen or felt enough?"
"If the boss says there's a ghost, then there is—end of."
The Mad Woman paused mid-slurp, pressing her forehead again.
"The deeper the grudge, the older the haunt, the more souls devoured—the easier they mess with the living world. You've seen a horror flick or two; evil spirits rattling windows or flinging objects, right?"
"Poltergeist phenomenon."
"Yeah, like that vibe. No clue how this ghost ship popped up here, but they were blatantly waiting for folks to hit the water. Harvesting souls like fishermen netting fish."
"So to exorcise or whatever, we gotta go out to sea?"
"Yep. But then whoever comes with me risks dying or worse. Water grudges everywhere, sun blazing but the sea's yin energy never fades. That's why I was biding time to handle it solo from land... but with locals swarming, no dice."
Slurrrrp! I finished my last noodles, chugged the MSG-salty broth like rice-wine, and set the bowl down.
"Bottom line: can't count on locals anymore. Even if we ask for a ride to fish offshore, they'll say no."
"Fact: the moment boss ditched the coat, that option sailed."
"So it's my fault now?"
"Not what I—"
"Forget it. I'm offended."
Offended or not, couldn't leave my employee stranded on the job—so boss had to step up.
"From their vibe earlier, they'll dive at dawn tomorrow. Our faces are burned into the fishermen's minds, so renting a boat's out. Can't fix the root without hitting the sea, though... so we'll get our own."
"How?"
"Buy one."
S-man smacked his knee.
"Brilliant foresight. Used fishing boat tops out at 5 mil won—prelim contract and cash, we snag one easy."
"Table that—any fisherman selling with us trending in gossip mills?"
"When did I say beg 'Please sell us a boat'?"
"Then what?"
"Make 'em sell."
BOOM!
Exactly 30 minutes after cleanup at the dock, I kicked in one fisherman's front gate. A guy lounging on the porch with soju and sashimi startled, glaring our way.
"What the fuck! Who smashed my gate?!"
"Han Daeri."
"S-man."
"......"
Any grown man can trash a rusty iron gate with a kick—common knowledge in Seoul. Village hicks.
"Hold up—you're those assholes from the pier! Suicidal much?!"
The unshaven slob snatched a shovel by the porch, eyes bulging, ready to swing.
I heard you got two boats: one for fishing, one for tourist charters. Raked it in till summer... then some moron conned you out of big bucks.
"Gah!"
He quick-checked over the stone wall for passersby, then glared harder.
"Who the hell are you? How'd you—?!"
"Sent your daughter abroad on her nagging, huh? Plus upkeep ain't cheap, and you chip in for your father-in-law's orchard. Need cash fast, but boats grounded—bank account's dust."
"Fuckin' spies? You spies?! Who sent ya?!"
"More pressing: cash for pops-in-law, daughter, and that 'new house' your wife's nagging about? You got none."
"M-money? Spin the boats, it'll roll in! But you and that fake shaman—what's your game barging in?!"
"Sell us your boats. Good price."
"Bullsh—urk!"
THUD!
I lunged, grabbed his collar, slammed him on the porch.
"Listen up, you pint-sized fish-fucker. Calling a legit shaman 'fake cult'? Trashing proud Supernatural Phenomena Resolution Office pros as spies? I can let that slide nice. But when someone's offering to fix your shit, don't cockblock. Or should I broadcast your 5-year side-piece with next-door Kim's wife? Tip cops on smuggling chink goods with your dinky boat? How 'bout the illegal gambling den?"
"!!!!"
"Still think I'm bluffing? Call your wife and Kim's—three-way chat?"
"N-no, that's...!"
"Then sell the boats when we offer cash. Ditch the smuggling, gambling, affair while you're at it. Petty sins vanish before Jesus' love, but don't be a shameful dad while alive."
"......"
I handed him checks from S-man, snagged the boat keys and gear in return.