The Monster Smith's Method
Heavy silence settled over the forge after Park Cheolwoo departed. Outside, a steady drizzle fell, the rain pattering against the roof. Seojun lowered the shutter completely and sat at his workbench. He raised a hand to wipe his face. His reflection in the mirror remained the same. But the contents inside that shell had changed dramatically from before.
'I'm fine...'
He recalled the answer he'd given Park Cheolwoo. It wasn't a complete lie. His body was healthy, his mind clear. It was just that his standards had slipped beyond the human realm.
Every heartbeat sent an unfamiliar energy coursing through his veins. His senses had sharpened excessively; he could even feel the vibrations of raindrops shattering on the ground.
Am I really fine?
Above all, the dormant kaeyi within him felt like a ticking time bomb. No one knew how long it would sleep.
I'll be fine.
There was no time to be bound by anxiety.
The aftermath of the Goryeo Workshop incident was fierce. The news aired special reports on ghost stories and kaeyi day after day. The government announced a massive full-scale investigation and issued a statement vowing to crack down on illegal kaeyi byproduct trafficking. But public anxiety didn't subside easily. Various anti-kaeyi equipment circulated on the market, yet people didn't trust them. Instead, they flocked to verified sources.
As a result, Seojun's forge buzzed with customers. Thanks to Silver Lining Guild's exploits, his reputation soared. From morning till night, visitors never stopped coming. He silently churned out mass-produced gear. The mechanical repetition wasn't boring. It trained him to clear his mind and hone his senses.
Days passed like this. It was a night when the rain had stopped and thick fog blanketed the streets. All customers had left, and the alley grew quiet. As he prepared to close, sorting the forge's embers, he sensed a presence outside the shutter.
No footsteps, but the air's flow shifted subtly.
A kaeyi...?
Seojun paused and stared at the entrance. This visitor differed from previous kaeyi. No feral killing intent or sticky desire. It was dry and bureaucratic, like a civil servant from a government office.
"Is the proprietor in?"
A polite voice came from outside. Seojun raised the shutter with the remote, revealing a man standing courteously. He wore a black durumagi robe and a black gat hat. His face was pale but sharply featured, expressionless. In one hand, a worn ledger; in the other, a brush.
"Come in."
The kaeyi stepped inside, scanning the forge. Wherever his gaze lingered, a deathly pall settled. He approached the workbench and opened the ledger.
"I am a chasa, an emissary from the underworld."
An underworld chasa guided the dead. Tapping the ledger with his brush, he continued.
"Lately, with the incident in this district, my duties have piled up. That Goryeo Workshop mess. Too many souls died in chaos there; sorting the ledgers of the dead has been no easy task."
He referred to the Goryeo Workshop ghost story incident. Countless people had died or turned into kaeyi and vanished. Cleanup fell to the chasa.
"What brings you here?"
"A troublesome item. One headache of a thing."
The chasa pulled something from his robe and placed it on the workbench. A fist-sized lump of metal, charred black and melted. But Seojun saw something odd. Countless agonized faces were embedded in its surface, as if screams echoed from it.
"This is..."
"Remnants from the Goryeo Workshop. The molten metal they forged from kaeyi, tangled with the vengeful spirits of the blacksmiths trapped and killed there, all fused solid."
Tsking his tongue, the chasa went on.
"Can't take it to the underworld like this. The metal and souls are fused too tightly. Force them apart, and the souls shatter. Leave it be, and we're abandoning a malign thing in the living world."
He stared steadily at Seojun.
"I've heard the rumors. They say this kaeyi smith handles metal freely. Can you dispose of this monstrosity?"
Seojun picked up the lump and felt its chill—not physical temperature, but resentment-soaked cold. Souls and metal bound at a molecular level. No ordinary heat would melt it; no physical force could separate them.
Goblin fire might work.
Through purple yokhwa, perhaps. Yokhwa reacted strongly to kaeyi essence. With precise control, he might burn only the bonds linking metal and souls.
But it was risky. One slip, and he'd incinerate the souls too.
"I'll try. No guarantees."
"Just attempting it is something. I beseech you."
Seojun nodded and fetched the goblin fire. He placed it in the forge and ignited the purple yokhwa.
Whoosh—
Mysterious flames rose, drawing an intrigued glance from the chasa.
"Ho, goblin fire indeed. The rumors hold true."
Seojun clamped the lump with tongs and held it above the flames, exposing it to heat without direct contact. Yokhwa's blaze enveloped it.
Save me—
Faces on the surface writhed, mouths gaping in torment. Horrific screams rang out, but he held focus. He took the chisel forged from ugeum, heavy relative to its size. The tip lacked sharpness but cut cleanly. He channeled energy into its end, waiting for the moment.
Found it.
Within the lump's crevices, he spotted the boundary where soul met metal—thanks to the yokhwa's stimulation. He pressed the chisel to the gap and struck with a small hammer.
Clang—!
Black smoke billowed from the lump. The screams grew fainter. Seojun didn't stop. Quick and precise, he severed the gaps.
Clang—!
Each break let yokhwa's heat penetrate deeper. The lump's bonds weakened, unable to hold the souls.
[Uwaaaah...]
Faint forms began emerging from the lump—transparent, smoky spirits. Released from pain, they floated serenely. The chasa swiftly opened his ledger; the souls were sucked inside.
But many remained trapped.
****
The work dragged over an hour. Sweat beaded on Seojun's brow—not physical fatigue, but mental drain. Freeing dozens of vengeful spirits was immense pressure. Yet he didn't waver, maintaining focus until the last soul escaped.
Claaang—!
The final strike split the lump in two. No faces remained. What was left: pure metal, its murky hue gone, gleaming silver-white.
"Well done."
The chasa closed the ledger, satisfied. His expression softened.
"Thanks to you, I've cleared my backlog. Fine craftsmanship."
"Glad it worked."
Seojun set down the chisel and hammer. His hands trembled faintly—the precise work had drained his energy.
"Now, for your fee."
The chasa drew a single black feather from his robe. No ordinary bird's plume—it absorbed light, pitch-black.
"A feather from an underworld crow. Grown feeding on impurities, it reveals malign things. Useful for a kaeyi smith."
He placed it on the workbench, then pointed to the split metal.
"Take that too. Just the shell left after the souls fled, but quite serviceable. Pure Spirit Iron, resentment purged—what remains after purification."
Metal infused with soul energy, maximizing spiritual conductivity. Prime material for shamans' or exorcists' ritual tools.
Seojun bowed in thanks.
"I'll put it to good use."
"Then, until fate brings us together again."
The chasa bowed and departed. His figure faded into the fog in moments.
Silence returned to the forge.
An underworld chasa...
His visit meant the Goryeo Workshop incident was wrapping up. But Baegbaekgyo, accelerating the ghost stories, nagged at him.
They're even proselytizing foreign kaeyi.
What Doyokshini and the others were doing, he couldn't say. Baek Dongsu wouldn't tell him even if asked.
"Can't scout myself either."
Leaving the forge had limits. Wandering the hidden world risked kaeyi encounters.
"Need someone who can be my hands and feet."
Seojun wished for a kaeyi ally. Like Silver Lining Guild.