Relic Appraisal Windfall - 4
"Kim Yunho is certainly an extraordinary man."
On the road back up to Seoul.
Freed at last from the vengeful spirit's torment, Moon Sung-il saw Kim Yunho in an entirely new light. An angel of salvation, or perhaps an absolute being. He could have pinned an even grander title on the man and it still wouldn't have felt like enough.
Meeting Kim Yunho had been a stroke of enormous luck — and, more than that, it meant he'd finally secured his own personal safety.
"When you trade in relics and antiques, you inevitably run into things that science simply can't explain."
"That's true. Someone in the family suddenly falls ill, or gets into a car accident, or the house catches fire."
Perfectly healthy people struck down by strokes that twisted their mouths sideways, or buyers who drove off with their purchase and died in a crash on the way home.
"I always chalked it all up to coincidence, you know? But after going through what we just went through, it's actually easier to accept that it was all the work of ghosts."
"I feel the same way."
Impossible events. Bizarre phenomena that went beyond strange into the outright uncanny. But once you decided they were the doings of spirits, everything suddenly fit together perfectly, front to back.
"I mean, why else would they call it the curse of the pyramids? The archaeologists who uncovered those ancient relics all suffered strange misfortunes too. Some of them died of them."
"Mr. Moon, going through this has convinced me of one thing — from now on, I'm consulting Kim Sunbae-nim before I push forward on anything."
"Same here."
They would be dealing in relics, antiques, and auction businesses for the foreseeable future, and unless they each had two lives to spare, it was far better to hand Kim Yunho a twenty percent commission.
"Yunho asked us to track down the long sword, so let's start there."
Moon Sung-il leveraged his connections with high-ranking police officials to open an investigation into the site manager overseeing the Wangsukcheon housing development case. Then, before they reached the East Seoul Tollgate, he received a call from the detective in charge.
"The man the manager slashed with the sword is still in critical condition. When we questioned the injured laborers, they all said the same thing — the manager changed after he secretly smuggled the long sword out of the grave uncovered during the development."
Kim Yunho's prediction had proven exactly right.
Lee Ho-young, who had been listening to the call on speakerphone, shuddered and broke out in goosebumps. "So where is the sword now?"
"We seized it as material evidence and handed it over to the National Forensic Service. If the victim dies, it becomes a murder weapon."
After all, they would need to check whether the blade carried a third party's DNA beyond the victims' blood.
"So as long as the NFS hasn't returned it yet, the long sword is still there?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"Understood. Thank you."
After hanging up with the detective, Moon Sung-il started working his phone, hunting for a contact inside the National Forensic Service. He confirmed the long sword was still safely in their custody — and decided he would pull every string he had to get it delivered to Kim Yunho.
And then—
"I'm sorry — what did you say? The sword is gone?"
Apparently, security footage showed the NFS staff member on duty loading the sword into his car as he left work. The police hadn't been informed yet. Since the National Forensic Service had lost the evidence itself, they intended to handle the matter quietly and recover it on their own.
The NFS investigator promised to find the long sword within a day and call back.
But the very next day—
"The duty officer who took the sword out was found collapsed and bleeding. He's been rushed to the hospital. The long sword has not been recovered."
Moon Sung-il could hardly believe his ears. "You said he lives alone, didn't you? It's not as if the sword grew legs and walked off. A sword simply vanishing doesn't make any sense."
"We're investigating. I'll call you if anything turns up."
After the call ended, Moon Sung-il yanked at his necktie, feeling as though it were strangling him. If they couldn't find the long sword, he was certain the vengeful spirit would come crawling back to coil around his neck and torment him all over again.
"Yunho is coming up to Seoul next week. We have to find that sword before then!"
I had prayed and prayed that a blizzard would come and cancel the event.
Why does the weather have to be this perfect?
Today was the day of the Companion Animal Festival, held to promote Pyeongcheong County.
I fitted No. 1 with a harness and tucked him into a carrier. Unlike dogs, cats could bolt and get lost the moment you let them loose outdoors, so every feline attendee was required to wear a harness before being admitted to the event.
The venue was the Green Nabi Arboretum at the foot of Mount Odae — a county-run arboretum for which Pyeongcheong County had scraped together money it didn't have, complete with an expansive lawn garden lovingly laid out on the grounds.
"Wow, there are so many people."
The traffic was backing up from the very entrance of the parking lot.
"Dog participants, please proceed to the outdoor garden! Cat participants, please move to the indoor hall!"
Staff from the county's PR office handed out entry passes and repeated the instructions over and over.
"Oh my, you're here! Mr. Ambassador!"
A PR office employee deliberately raised her voice and waved the camera crew over. "The PR Ambassador has arrived!"
"Ah — yes! Hello there."
The camera director came running up to greet me. They'd be filming my participation in today's event and editing it into a video to promote next year's Companion Animal Festival.
Vrrrm.
It was a tremendous nuisance, but what could I do? I'd promised I'd do it.
"Looking forward to working with you."
"Of course. Just relax and enjoy the event. We'll be filming the whole time, but we won't ask you to pose or recite anything scripted."
"Got it."
Pass in hand, I started walking into the arboretum, headed for the indoor hall.
But seriously, why did Lady Wolyeong have to follow me?
Despite my telling her to stay inside the dagger in the warm house, she had ignored me completely and trailed at my heels the whole way here. Perhaps, like No. 1, she drew energy from being near me — she seemed perfectly fine even though she'd drifted quite far from the blade.
Then again, she was a vengeful spirit, and the people who came near her seemed to feel a chill crawling up their spines.
Master, why are there so many freaking dog ghosts here?
The moment I stepped into the garden where the canine participants had gathered, No. 1's observation proved dead on — the place was crawling with the souls of dogs. Even in death, they hadn't left their owners' sides, trotting faithfully after them.
"Mandu, sit! Oh my, why won't you listen today? Mandu, I said sit. Sit!"
Every time the Jindo's owner called out the name 'Mandu,' a spirit that looked exactly like that dog barked right along with her.
Could that dead dog have been named Mandu too?
Perhaps the owner had loved the first dog so dearly that she'd given her newly adopted puppy the same name.
"Mandu, I'll give you a treat. Sit!"
The living dog ignored her, but the dead one dropped into a sit at her owner's command and wagged its tail furiously. Mom, I'm being good, aren't I? So praise me. Notice me. Please. It gazed up at her with the most heartbroken, pleading eyes.
But the owner remained focused entirely on the living dog.
"Mandu, what are you looking at? Look at Mommy. Mandu, sit."
The dead dog barked. Woof! I'm sitting, Mom. Look at me, please.
It pawed at the owner's leg, nudging her gently. But she felt nothing, doting only on the living dog as if nothing else existed.
Ha, I really can't just watch this.
I sidled over and spoke to the dead dog. Did you forget how to cross the rainbow bridge?
Woof! Mommy cried and told me never to leave her. She said we couldn't be apart like that.
Well... that's because she couldn't bear to say goodbye to you while you were dying. It wasn't a request to stay beside her as a ghost.
If your mom told you to go to the afterlife, would you leave?
Woof! Woof! I think Mommy's forgotten me. She never looks for me.
No, she hasn't. She misses you so much that she adopted a dog that looks just like you.
Whine. But I'm right here. Woof! Woof!
The moment the dead dog barked, the living one started barking too, uneasy, staring into empty air. The old saying that white dogs can see ghosts must have been true.
"Mandu, what's wrong with you? Why do you keep barking at nothing?"
I walked up to Mandu's owner. A woman in her thirties with a participant tag pinned to her chest — number twenty-three.
"They say a Jindo will devote itself to only one master its entire life. Is this your first time raising one?"
"Oh, no. The dog I raised before him was a Jindo too — I had her for twelve years. She crossed the rainbow bridge two years ago."
She's still right beside you. Wagging her tail with her eyes fixed only on you.
"If — hypothetically — the child you lost two years ago were standing next to you right now, is there something you'd want to say to her?"
"Ah... our Mandu..." The woman stroked the head of the dog she held now. "The puppy I had before was named Mandu too. If Mandu were here beside me..."
"I'd tell her I'm sorry I never brought her to events like this. And that I'm sorry I couldn't spend more time with her. Work was so busy back then — Mandu spent so many hours cooped up at home, just waiting for me to come back."
Woof! Woof woof!
The dead dog wagged her tail at her owner, sending her an endless tide of loving eyes. It's okay. Don't cry. She licked the back of the woman's hand — I'm always right here.
But there was nothing she could do, pressed desperately against her owner's side like that, unseen.
"Then I suppose you'd want the old Mandu to go to puppy heaven and make some friends of her own?"
"Oh, yes, absolutely. I hope she's having fun up there — and I hope she comes to meet me when I die someday. I really want to see her again and be a good big sister to her."
I nodded, then spoke to the dead dog. You heard her? Time to go to the afterlife now.
Please tell her I'll never forget her, and that I'll be waiting — so she should take her time getting there.
I will.
I gathered the dead dog into my arms and sent her on behind me. And then, suddenly, the woman with tag number twenty-three lifted her head, staring at something over my shoulder — and burst into tears.
"I thought I heard Mandu whimpering. When I got home from work, I swear I heard her calling to me from inside the door..."
"She must be waiting near the rainbow bridge. She misses you terribly, but she's telling you to take your time."
"Oh... hearing that breaks my heart. And makes me miss her all the more."
The woman hugged the living puppy's scruff to her chest. "I'm sorry, Mandu. I love you. I love you — I'll say it often. As much as I can."
Compared to humans, the lives of dogs and cats are far, far too short. Which means the day always comes when you have to send a beloved companion on ahead of you. And when that day arrives, you must say a proper goodbye — go well, and thank you.
Otherwise, they can never leave, even after death, crying and aching beside the person they loved.
Woof woof woof.
Whine. Whiiine.
I made a full circuit of the garden, guiding the souls of dead dogs on to the afterlife, one by one. No matter how hard they wagged their tails or frolicked before their owners' eyes hoping to be noticed, it was all for nothing.
Woof woof woof.
Mmm. Mmmm.
Awoooooo.
It was heartbreaking — these pitiful one-sided loves who had adored their owners all their lives and still couldn't let go, even in death.
No. 1, let's hurry and get inside.
Having sent every canine soul off to the afterlife, I headed for the indoor hall where the feline participants had gathered — and the same phenomenon was unfolding there as well.
The one mercy was that cat spirits limited themselves to lying or sitting beside their owners and tapping at them with a raised front paw. That was about the extent of it. They didn't throw their whole bodies into desperation the way dogs did, but their eyes looked exhausted, mournful.
And then—
What is that?
There was an attendee seated with dozens of cat spirits subdued around him. How could any single person be the master of that many cats? And the vast majority of them looked young, besides. Every breed was different, and some of the cat spirits were cowering, trembling like leaves.
Yet not one of them could leave the man's side — they only kept watching him furtively, hearts in their throats.