Ghosts Die Twice (3)
A creaking, eerie screech scraped against his eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. Something squishy filled his hand. What the hell is this? Kangryeong Daegun wondered, only to realize a moment later that he'd gouged out his own eye with his own fingers.
But by then, he no longer had a mouth to scream with—or ears to hear it.
"Tch."
Tap, tap.
Only the odd sound of ash flicked from a cigarette echoed strangely.
"It's coming soon, and you're in such a hurry."
A low, rumbling voice stroked the nape of Kangryeong Daegun's neck. In that instant, he realized he was already dead.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.
The downpour had intensified, pounding relentlessly against the container. The wide brim of Ju Kang-rim's hat shielded his vision, but the fat raindrops showed no sign of letting up.
Whip-crack—bam!
The reinforced ghoul's swinging arm sliced through the rain like a lash, grazing Ju Kang-rim's cheek. Its razor-sharp limb sheared off the container's corner like tofu. With a metallic screech, pieces of toy sets stored inside tumbled out.
The reinforced ghoul bellowed ferociously.
"Grah-grah-grah!"
"Split in half."
It was hard to tell if the thing was laughing or crying, but Ju Kang-rim replied offhandedly while dodging another hand thrusting toward his heart.
Two reinforced ghouls already lay sprawled on the ground. Even enhanced by Kangryeong Daegun's talismans, they couldn't overcome the universal weakness of all lifeforms except immortals: split the head in two, and they died.
But even so... these bastards are a pain.
Five reinforced ghouls in total now. He could cut them down or block them with his blood-rain-coated Saingeom, but unlike regular zombies, they moved in precise formation, pressing him relentlessly without gaps. The two he'd felled so far were mostly luck.
As their numbers dwindled, their attacks grew even more intricate and seamless.
"Caw!"
Ttakkachi dove into the fray amid a flock of seagulls, savaging the reinforced ghouls' faces with talons and beak. But she couldn't inflict deep wounds. They didn't even seem to be tracking Ju Kang-rim with their eyes.
The reinforced ghoul swung its arm, cleaving through the birds. Ttakkachi barely evaded and soared up. The pounding rain hampered her movements too.
Shwick, shwick.Kah-gah-gak!
The whip-like arm grazed the tip of Ju Kang-rim's nose. He tried to slash into its trajectory with his Saingeom, but it retracted at an impossible angle, dodging the blade.
Especially that whip-armed fucker pisses me off.
Its movements mimicked the bizarre dance Kangryeong Daegun had performed in the museum. It was likely the main attacker, with the others protecting it while restricting Ju Kang-rim's mobility.
A whip should normally be cautious of friendly fire, limiting its swings. Yet it lashed out freely, while the others anticipated and evaded, exploiting the openings.
Probably under Kangryeong Daegun's direct control.
One wrong slash could turn the tide in this life-or-death brawl. But Ju Kang-rim felt more annoyed than tense. Impressive as they were, they weren't a real threat to him.
Compared to Kangryeong Daegun's grotesque dance in the museum—that divine sword dance shredding space with his whole body—these felt painfully slow and dull.
Shwick—kang!
Ju Kang-rim dodged the incoming whip while severing a zombie's leg as it axed down. The ghouls faltered for a split second at his sudden agility.
He seized the gap, cleaving the legless ghoul's head from jaw to crown.
"Another one."
Four left now. Unfazed, they calmly reformed their ranks. Their attacks would sharpen, tighten.
Ju Kang-rim steadied himself, considering his options.
Then it happened.
The reinforced ghouls staggered, bodies shuddering violently.
Some kind of trap? Ju Kang-rim wondered, but instinctually exploited the opening anyway.
Shwick—thunk.
Bongshin-do pierced one ghoul's solar plexus first, locking its movement. Ju Kang-rim followed with a Saingeom thrust, splitting its skull.
Only then did he realize it wasn't a trap. Something was happening.
The ghouls stopped convulsing and glanced around wildly. Spotting Ju Kang-rim, they roared madly and charged.
But this time, it was different. No formation, no calculation—just berserk rushes fueled by pure rage.
What the hell?
Ju Kang-rim evaded the wild onslaughts, curiosity piqued. He beheaded the lead ghoul and hurled its corpse into the ones behind.
The rear ghouls flailed wildly, shredding their former ally. Ju Kang-rim stabbed one's skull in the chaos.
The last was the whip-limbed one. Just then, Blood Rain expired, reverting his Saingeom to hand-axe form.
Ju Kang-rim readjusted his grip, sighed wearily, and extended his hand toward the ghoul. The blunderbuss in his grasp roared.
Boom.
The blast shredded the ghoul with loaded scrap. It still lunged roaring, but the evil spirits in the shards gnawed viciously, sowing confusion.
Ju Kang-rim's hand-axe smashed its skull.
"Whew, tough bastards."
He yanked the axe free from the final split head and muttered. Wiping rain from his face, he scanned around. No more appeared.
But the sudden shift in their behavior nagged at him. From tactical precision to self-inflicted frenzy?
Did Kangryeong Daegun abandon control and bolt?
Ju Kang-rim worried the immortal might've ditched him for the sea. Immortals didn't drown; it could drift for years until landfall.
The blunderbuss spirits would pursue to the death, but sinking deep or drifting with currents might exceed his week-long deal with Yeomra.
"Don't you dare just run..."
"Aaaaaaahhh!!"
In that instant, someone burst screaming from the container ahead. Ju Kang-rim reflexively raised his axe, then recognized Kangryeong Daegun.
"What the fuck, you psycho..."
He halted mid-swing at the sight. Kangryeong Daegun was nearly naked, clothes shredded by his own hands. His eyes were gouged sockets, empty voids clawed raw. His body, from head to toe, was smeared in blood from slamming into the container.
Snapped at last?
He'd heard madness struck the possessed sometimes, but seeing it was grotesque. No mercy for the insane, though—his job was capture; judgment belonged to the higher-ups.
"Lee-hwi!"
Sensing the mess, Ju Kang-rim invoked the first Reaper's Soul-Call.
Crack.
No sound, but Kangryeong Daegun's limbs twisted violently as it took hold. Overwhelming agony seizes humans, freezing or convulsing them.
Thud.
He collapsed, foaming and spasming. Ju Kang-rim prepared the final call to seal true death—but curiosity burned. Why this state?
He smashed the limbs with his hand-axe first.
"Hey, snap out of it!"
"Spare me, spare me, spare me..."
Blood streamed from empty sockets as he begged. Hard to believe this was the same arrogant shaman-king dreaming of a new dynasty from the museum.
"What the hell happened to you? Eat something bad?"
Ju Kang-rim pondered Yeomra's words via Biman. He could guess: Kangryeong Daegun must've tried some desperate last resort, pissing off Yeomra.
Made sense—cursing a grim reaper would irk the king. He tsked at the shivering naked wreck.
"If you'd just gone for a straight fight back then, it might've been a real scrap."
"Spare me, spare me, spare me..."
"Even if I granted every wish in the world."
Ju Kang-rim intoned the final name.
"That's the one thing I can't do. Lee-hwi."
Craaaack.
As the last Reaper's Soul-Call completed, Kangryeong Daegun's mouth gaped, body quaking. Ju Kang-rim decapitated him in one stroke, ending it for good.
A black core orb seeped from the drawn Saingeom, like with Jang Han-taek—an independent immortal soul, unabsorbed.
Target: Capture Kangryeong Daegun
Reward 1: Saingeom Reinforcement Ticket (x1)
Reward 2: Guaranteed Legendary Grade Minimum 'Today's Fortune' (Pre-purchase)
Reward 2 went to Ttakkachi, it seemed. But he got the Saingeom reinforcement ticket. Forcing it without the sword's approval felt like boss abuse, but whatever.
If not reinforcing something else extra, it's soul power left...
Still fuzzy for him. The others boosted speed, stealth, strength—straightforward. Soul power was another realm.
He decided to consult Yoo Wol-ryeong first. Report sent.
Ju Kang-rim pondered buying an avatar.
"Whew..."
Ju Kang-rim entered the container Kangryeong Daegun had burst from. Inside was as wretched as him: rice grains, gold threads, headless chickens strewn like offerings. Bloodstains from his self-inflicted headbutts too.
He nearly stepped on something, pausing. An eyeball rolled where his foot would've landed—Kangryeong Daegun's, by the look.
He kicked it aside casually and scanned. No traps or snares. The reinforced ghouls were his final stand.
A pitiful end for the shaman-king who'd conquered the nation, but fittingly miserable.
"Lucky the Vito family's guards weren't around."
Probably just the biker ninjas. Against normals, two would've sufficed—maybe even cleaned his organization.
Rifling through leftovers, Ju Kang-rim found unidentified talismans, brushes, ritual items. Useless details unknown, but from a top shaman? Worth keeping.
Then, in the bag, something odd: a plain, title-less book emanating no strange aura. Skimming it, handwritten notes in Kangryeong Daegun's script.