Regarding the Supreme Shaman

"Scram!!!"

Jinhyuk shut his eyes. The old man was bellowing loud enough to shake the thatched cottage from its foundations, and his startled companions stared at him with eyes gone round.

A scramble of tiny feet —

"Where d'you think you're shoutin', sir?!"

"That hurts Momo's ears!!"

The beating started up all over again. This time there were extra charges on the docket, so Jinhyuk let them work the old man over a little longer.

"Listen while you're getting hit. Who is the Supreme Shaman?"

"Do you want heaven's punishment?! You don't even know who that is—"

"How dare you! How dare you! Still flappin' that trap of yours, sir?!"

Kancho seized him by the hair and laid into him with those cotton-soft fists.

"S-stop! Stop hitting me! I'll talk! I'll talk!"

After taking a thorough pounding, the old man signaled his surrender. It wasn't that the little ones' cotton fists actually hurt. Yoddle fur just kept getting up his nose and into his mouth, and that was agony.

"Huff! Huff! The Supreme Shaman is one who reads the will of heaven! One who has lived through a thousand years — an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eternity!"

"A youngster, then."

"How dare you, you otherkin bastard!"

"Watch your mouth, sir! She's a granny of three thousand two hundred and seventy-one years who could drop dead any day now!"

Elia frowned. Is he throwing her to the wolves, or taking her side?

"Where is this Supreme Shaman?"

He still hadn't seen the memories of his new companion, which meant it wasn't the old man standing in front of him. The Supreme Shaman was almost certainly the friend waiting ahead.

"At the end of this space. But you will not be granted an audience."

"Why not?"

"That path is far too treacherous and dangerous. The moment you set foot on it, your life will be taken."

"So if I go without getting my life taken, I can meet them?"

"As if! The Supreme Shaman is a hero of this age, chosen by the heavens. Even now, they are carrying out a mission that only they can perform. The instant you interfere, a catastrophe beyond all reason will unfold."

A soft rustle — and the moment the old man finished speaking, a familiar hologram unfurled. A woman in a pure white robe was offering prayers before a stone monument.

"Is she Korean?"

"Korea? What's that?"

The old man cocked his head as if he'd never heard the word. Not knowing what era the man was from, Jinhyuk listed off every name that came to mind.

"Joseon, Korea, Goryeo, Gojoseon, Silla, Goguryeo, Baekje. Any of those?"

"You're just rattling off words I can't understand."

Jinhyuk shrugged. Manshin was a word usually reserved for shamans, which was why he'd guessed as much — but apparently that wasn't it. He turned his attention back to the memories still flowing out.

The owner of those memories hadn't so much as twitched, even as season after season had turned. Long enough that one might worry she'd become a waiting-wife stone.

A twitch.

Jinhyuk leaned in. For the briefest instant, something had definitely moved — and the praying woman seemed to have felt it too.

"Stay still. This is hard on both of us, so don't struggle for nothing."

A smile touched the woman's lips.

Jinhyuk's eyes went wide. As her quiet murmur ended, things that had been invisible until now began to reveal themselves. Beneath the monument lay something enormous and pitch-black, and above it a massive palm was pressed down — a force conjured, he guessed, by the woman's prayers.

On the surface, it might have looked peaceful. It wasn't. The struggle was still going on, endlessly: a contest of strength between something that refused to sleep and a being trying to put it to rest. Every vibration and every writhing twitch in the memory was a byproduct of that clash.

A soft fade. The hologram, already thinning, vanished completely.

One who stood close to the heavens. The woman who had been pressing down on that monument for so many long years seemed to be the companion he was meant to meet from here on.

"So what do you do, Grandpa?"

"Me? I am the Supreme Shaman's attendant."

"Attendant? Isn't that the little guy who tags along behind secret royal inspectors? That's a gofer, sir."

"A gofer?"

Grandpa blinked, having no idea what the word meant. Thank goodness. He couldn't understand Kancho's increasingly dazzling vocabulary.

"So the path to the Supreme Shaman is that way."

Jinhyuk pointed, and the old man furrowed his brow.

"What did you take my words for?! I said you'll die the moment you set foot there! If you're talking about that place—"

It was a long, elaborate tale, but the one-line summary was this: the maze was extremely complicated.

"Is it more complicated than the maze you made, Grandpa?"

"Huh?"

Grandpa went suddenly, tellingly silent. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead before he barely managed to open his mouth.

"Th-that's not it! My maze is the ultimate path from which no one can ever escape!"

This side had the Yoddle Compass. A hundred percent chance of sailing through without a hitch.

"Then it should be fine. We'll be going."

Jinhyuk smiled and turned around.

"You ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be careful, Grandpa, sir! You shout 'Scram!' one more time and we'll send you off for good!"

Having delivered that final threat, Kancho trotted after him. They set off in the direction the old man had indicated, and the closer they drew, the thicker the ominous air became.

"It's another straw-raincoat gate, sir."

"Torii."

Jinhyuk corrected the name and looked up. A torii even more densely plastered with talismans than the last one. The word eerie might as well have been invented for this.

"Let's go."

He stepped through without another thought. Whether a tiger or a dragon waited on the other side, it didn't matter. If the Supreme Shaman was the next hero he needed to bring along, he'd just help her beat the thing to a pulp.

Same structure as the ice prison where he'd met Darc. To reach the space beyond, you had to climb the next floor.

"Oh? It says we can enhance the Yoddle Compass."

"Is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that so, sir? We'll have to visit the Yoddle Forest — do some fishing at the lake while we're at it. Need to periodically tighten up Old Man Toto's slackened discipline, sir."

The compass expert, Grandfather Toto, came to mind. He'd be resting comfortably in his cozy hollow-tree house right about now. Another uninvited guest was about to barge in.

Jinhyuk narrowed his eyes. Something was sleeping. A phrase dripping with ominous implication — but he decided not to care. He'd just beat it down the same way Kancho and Momo had just beaten up the old man.

With the message, Jinhyuk's party left the tower.

"Th-they're actually going?!"

The old man came running out too late and stared toward the torii. Whether they'd already gone or not, the ruffians were nowhere to be seen. He pressed a hand to his forehead.

The mission given to him had been simple: guard the path so that no one could enter. He'd gotten a bit too into the role and overdone it, but unexpected ruffians had broken through all the same.

Rub, rub. He massaged where the fists had landed and shook his head. Looking at it generously, you could call it the spirit of youth. But in the old man's eyes, this was clearly arrogance — arrogance born of the casual thought of just charging in and seeing what happened.

And so it would soon descend upon them. Divine punishment for defying the heavens' command.

Incheon International Airport, Republic of Korea.

Sato Tsubasa, a lawmaker of Japan's Innovation Party, stepped out into the terminal.

"First time since the Korea-Japan summit. Korea, I mean."

She looked around at a leisurely pace. The closest country, and yet one she never had any reason to visit. She'd never thought she'd be back for something like this.

"Where would you like to go, Representative?"

"I told you to drop the 'Representative' already. You trying to announce to everyone that I came here looking for the Runner? I even dressed down for this."

"I'm sorry."

"And where would I go? I need to stay here."

The people who'd followed her out drew question marks in the air. Inside the airport, travelers bustled to and fro. What on earth was she planning to do here?

"You guided the friends who got off with us properly, right?"

"Yes. We've sent them to the locations you specified. Two each at the Seoul Player Hunter Administration and the National Assembly."

"Good. Let's pray those friends bring back something useful."

She walked at an unhurried pace, surveying her surroundings.

"Find me an open, unobstructed space. Somewhere I can close my eyes and concentrate at the same time. Even if you have to pay to occupy the whole area."

"Understood."

Tsubasa let out a quiet breath. Incheon Airport was vast — but it was well within her detection range. If the owner of the lingering scent she'd picked up at the Hosaka Group appeared, if he so much as set foot in the departure hall, she would know immediately. And if the one who'd killed Chairman Hosaka turned out to be the Runner, that would be the icing on the cake.

No way.

Tsubasa chuckled and shook her head. Far too convenient a wish, with vanishingly slim odds in reality. Wipe out the yakuza, kill Chairman Hosaka, and then hop over to Britain and save the next queen? Even hero movies didn't pack a schedule this tight.

"Still, there are quite a lot of competitors."

Throughout the departure hall, several groups that were clearly no ordinary people stood waiting, and not even trying to hide it. Meaning she wasn't the only one who thought the Runner would appear in Incheon.

But she wasn't worried. She had the advantage. The Runner was someone a certain Korean agency was desperately hiding, which meant those others likely had no leads whatsoever. Whereas she at least had the lingering scent ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of a person who might be the Runner — slim odds, but she privately hoped it was.

"We've found a suitable spot."

"Let's go."

Following her attendants, Tsubasa arrived beside a fountain.

"This is fine. Stand so you don't look too obvious."

"Understood."

Tsubasa stretched this way and that, then sat down at the center of the fountain. She closed her eyes and brought her hands together.

A long, whispering rush of air —

From her hands, threads that only Tsubasa could see burst forth, stretching in every direction and laying a web like a spider's. She loaded onto those threads the lingering scent she'd been holding. Having completed her web for the capture, Tsubasa smiled.

Preparations were complete. All that remained was to wait — hoping her prey would fall into the trap.

Jinhyuk stepped off the private jet and stretched. His belly had swollen mountain-huge, thanks to enthusiastically demolishing the food Charles had prepared.

Private jets are really nice.

Before it could get any farther away, he walked up to the jet and nuzzled his cheek against it. This was his. He still couldn't believe it.

"You've worked hard for a long time."

The pilot who'd come down from the plane bowed his head.

"I didn't do anything. You worked hard driving!"

The pilot regarded the exceedingly polite young man. The passenger cabin was completely separated from the cockpit, with perfect privacy guaranteed. He'd heard noisy sounds throughout the flight and was curious what the kid had been doing alone up there — but he couldn't ask. No matter how young, this was a Super VIP.

"Then I'll see you on the next flight."

"Yes. See you next time!"

Jinhyuk spun on his heel and stretched. Cheongju Airport. They'd arrived.