Shaman Ranks and the Call to Cambodia
- Yes, this is Kang Suhu.
"...Kang Suhu-ssi. No, Teacher Kang."
The title had slipped into utmost respect without him realizing it. Despite his wife's protests, Nam Gyuho got down from the bed, gripping the IV stand, and bowed deeply at the waist. The person on the other end of the phone couldn't see it, but this was an instinctive courtesy etched into his bones for his life savior.
- How's your body holding up? You should be resting fully.
"I learned that you saved me not once, but twice, Teacher. I realized that headache before was also a Sal curse."
- Detective, you're incredibly lucky. Surviving a 1st Grade vengeful spirit and then a Special Grade one made from gu poison—that's thanks to your upright mental fortitude.
"I should thank you in person, but I had an urgent question, so I called."
- What's on your mind?
The reason Nam Gyuho had called was Jang Chen.
"Right before I collapsed, that man vomiting blood—was that Jang Chen?"
There was a brief silence on the receiver. Then Kang Suhu's voice boomed through.
- ...Jang Chen got away.
Nam Gyuho clenched his fist tight. The fact that the man puking blood during the exorcism was Jang Chen. The target he'd wanted to catch had tried to kill him instead—a chill ran down his spine. And right there nearby, slicing at his flesh...
"I see. Teacher, you've saved my life twice now. Truly... from the depths of my bones, I thank you. I'll never forget this grace."
Silence flowed from the receiver for a moment. Then came the sound of a lighter flicking and smoke being exhaled.
- Skip the thanks. I just sent you a text, Detective. Looks like that's where my stepmother's being held—the crime complex.
"Ah? Yes?"
- Seems like a war's breaking out there right now. Could you check it out?
"Got it. Please hold on, don't hang up..."
Nam Gyuho quickly checked the text. A logistics complex on the outskirts of Phnom Penh, Cambodia. The place he'd investigated before and found clean. Spotless on paper too.
"U Minjeong-ssi is held there?"
- Yeah, and there's a shootout happening right now. Can you confirm through local cooperation?
"You can tell there's a shootout through shamanism?"
- ...
Nam Gyuho was startled. He immediately powered on his laptop and inquired through hotlines about the shootout at that location. At the same time, he swallowed dryly and pressed harder on the keys.
Kang Suhu—if he could borrow that power... If someone surpassing Special Grade shamans aided the special forces...
Nam Gyuho squeezed his eyes shut and spoke. Sink or swim.
"Could you join our special task force as a civilian consultant? We have one 1st Grade shaman attached, but those guys aren't just a regular crime outfit. If the ones who sent that horrific curse on me are tied to Cambodia's backers... our police forces alone might not handle their shamanic terrorism. Your power... we desperately need it."
Nam Gyuho was desperate. To confront the massive evil cartel brutally kidnapping and crushing Republic of Korea citizens. A fervent prayer to enlist a Special Grade shaman who could block Sal.
A moment later, Kang Suhu's dry voice returned.
- Fine. I'll join. I'll prepare my passport.
"Thank you! Truly... thank you. I'll contact you the moment I confirm the shootout details."
Nam Gyuho proudly showed his wife the goosebumps rising on his arm. Joining with a Special Grade shaman was that astonishing.
- Share the schedule when it's out.
"Yes. We'll have a launch ceremony and briefing day soon. Your attendance then would be appreciated, Teacher!"
- Of course I'll be there.
"Thank you, Teacher!"
The moment he hung up, Nam Gyuho threw two air uppercuts in joy.
"...Honey."
His worried wife eyed his antics with deep concern, but Nam Gyuho's grin wouldn't fade.
"Look, goosebumps. The shaman who saved me is actively helping us."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And he's Special Grade. No more worries for you. He saved me twice—that time with the Thousand Spirit Centipede sucking my vital energy was him too."
"...Thousand Spirit Centipede? I don't know what that is."
Nam Gyuho the detective pursed his lips, about to explain the massive, grotesque centipede.
"Ah, my pretty doesn't need to know that stuff!!"
He grabbed his wife's cheeks, squishing them to pout her lips, then playfully kissed and hugged her tight.
"Honey, bring him home once. The man who saved my husband—I gotta repay him with a full 12-course banquet at least!"
"Shall I? Great! My lady's cooking is the best in the world!"
"No empty words. Bring him for sure~"
But he didn't notice his wife's eyes turning serene.
I finished the call with Detective Nam Gyuho and sank deep into the sofa. I tossed my gaze to the ceiling and lightly puffed smoke.
"Off to Cambodia..."
The detective's call had solidified my resolve. I was curious about U Minjeong's survival, but unearthing the conspiracy's roots mattered more. Either way, tagging along with his special task force meant safe movement.
"Special task force consultant..."
Best scenario I could pull off right now. Phnom Penh, Cambodia, Takeo Province Logistics Complex. Crime complex disguised as logistics. Massive plot using my family as half-human shikigami sacrifices to devour the conglomerate Samjeong Group. The original sin of killing my father—I'll make them pay in blood.
Samjeong's executive secretary Park Taejun. I confirmed his face again via search. And gleaned intriguing info from articles.
"Samjeong's recruited Mudang No.2 executive?"
Before joining Samjeong 10 years ago, Park Taejun was a fairly famous shaman in Apgujeong. One frequented by political and business celebs—Samjeong had scouted him.
"Mudang No.2 means Mudang No.1 executive is someone stronger than Park Taejun?"
More searches turned up no other shamans scouted by Samjeong.
"Guarding Chairman Kang Rokgi is someone more powerful than Park Taejun."
Otherwise, no reason to leave traces like this and loop around. Or maybe Chairman Kang Rokgi knew of Park Taejun's ambitions.
"Getting interesting?"
Park Taejun, his helper Jang Junpyo, and the triad.
"Park Taejun... your biggest mistake was messing with me."
To drain my vital blood and control me as a shikigami, he dangled Mina as bait, infused with squeezing essence Sal. Defense alone won't cut it. Hunting's about striking first.
And Wudang's Jang Cheonsa, Jang Chen... He groveled calling me benefactor, but can't fully trust him yet. I stripped the triad's qin gu curse off him...
"...At least he won't block my path."
I tapped the sofa armrest with my fingers and murmured low.
"Hey, Mongshili."
Shrrk— My scalp hair rustled, and a fluffy pom-pom ball slid down my forehead to perch lightly on my nose bridge. Its eight black eyes gazed up at me, sparkling.
'You called, my great, ruthless, overwhelming master.'
This brat's flattery's gotten worse.
"You finished treating Mina?"
'Yes.'
Spirit Grade vengeful spirit, as expected.
"Teach me some shamanism."
'Pardon? My shamanism? Care for a spiderweb from the anus?'
"Shut it. Something like Jang Chen's attack spells. Anything from his memories."
Needed to prepare actively for fights with shamans or other humans. Mongshili fighting for me was too passive—not my style.
'Jang Chen has a talisman art called Flying Talisman Slash (비부참), master.'
Mongshili bounced, using its pom-pom hands to pull out a yellow Post-it and place it on the table. It etched letters with its spider silk.
'I secretly memorized Jang Chen's talisman art. He'll puke blood and off himself if he knew his secrets were raided. Indeed.'
"Don't overdo it."
'Yes.'
The tiny Mongshili climbed the Post-it, slowly etching letters with its butt.
'Normally on yellow paper, but this works fine. Best is white bone paper (백골지: paper mixed with bone dust) or spirit wood paper (영목지: from millennium tree inner bark). Brushes: at least human hair brush (인모필: human hair), wolf brush (낭호필: wild wolf fur), or fetal hair brush (태모필: newborn's first hair) to hold more spiritual power.'
Mongshili drew a silk outline on the Post-it.
'Infuse spiritual power over my outline, master.'
I grabbed a Monami ballpoint. Traced the silk lines smoothly. As the pen's globby ink oozed, Mongshili scratched its head with a pom-pom hand.
'Drawing with a ballpoint... how's the talisman supposed to hold power? At least human hair brush...'
Soon, a decent-looking talisman formed in my eyes. I'm shit at art, but copying? Fuck yeah.
"Throw this, and done?"
'Yes.'
"Just throw?"
'Imagine your target and body part in mind, then toss.'
I yanked the window open. 30 meters out, a streetlamp glowed bright. I pictured its bulb.
Sensing my intent, Mongshili grumbled mentally. 'That streetlamp? But... a ballpoint talisman won't work.'
Flick.
Whiiiiiist!!!
The Post-it glowed and shot off. Then pop—the streetlamp went dark.
'...It does.'
I chuckled in disbelief, shoulders shaking. Mongshili froze, pom-poms raised over its head.
Chapter 4. Dance with Mongshili. End.