The Night Guard
Three days had passed since the Kim Yeongsik case came to a close.
Even with three hundred million won sitting in my bank account, life hadn't really changed all that much. I'd picked up a new car, treated myself to slightly pricier meals than usual, and gained a little breathing room. That was about it.
Is that what counted as a big change?
With a wry smile, I gazed at the grave before me.
Im Gyeonghwa
November 3, 1941 — July 8, 2020
"It's been a while, Teacher."
I poured out an offering of the plum wine my spiritual mother had loved in life.
"Just as you said, I've come to serve another god. And just as you told me, gods really do exist far beyond anything human beings can grasp."
Were there truly things in this world you simply couldn't escape? I sprinkled the plum wine over the burial mound and let out a sigh.
"To tell you the truth, I used to resent you quite a bit. Back when I first received my spirit. In those days, I thought my life had turned into this mess because of you."
I glanced sideways at the mark. At times like this, the mark never said a word.
Then again, I supposed I ought to be grateful she'd taken in an orphan like me and cared for me at all. But if someone asked whether I could actually feel that way now... no, that was one thing I could never manage.
"...I don't know. These days, I can't say I hate you all that much. People really are fickle creatures, aren't they?"
Chuckling to myself, I got to my feet. If you were going to tend a grave, keep it as short as possible. Rambling in front of a headstone was pointless—the dead couldn't hear a word of it. That had been my spiritual mother's own standing advice.
"Then again, how does one grave end up with this much riffraff hanging around?"
I cleaned the place up, pulling out the weeds one by one. And as a bonus, I concentrated power into my left hand and spread my shadow out wide.
"Hoping some crumbs might fall, are we? Quite a crowd of you loitering about."
Stray spirits. Stray spirits. Stray spirits.
Did the body of a shaman who'd been potent in life give off the rich spiritual energy that stray spirits loved so much? Watching the wretches come swarming in with that skin-crawling clamor, I curled the corner of my mouth.
"The departed don't sleep here, you vermin."
Muttering that, I seized every last spirit that tried to bolt. Since the CEO Kim case, handling the mark's shadows seemed to have grown a whole lot smoother.
Crunch!
The shadows lashed the stray spirits down and began slowly reeling them into my mark. Not one of them managed a real struggle before it was sealed away inside.
"Until we meet again. I'll visit more often than I used to."
Other mourners who'd come to pay their respects were looking around in bewilderment.
"Did something just..."
"You felt it too, didn't you? That chill down your spine? It must've been Dad stopping by for a moment."
I watched them blankly for a moment, then headed back toward the parking lot.
Back at the shrine, I fed the stray spirits to the shrine's statue, and by the time I finished, lunchtime had all but slipped away.
What should I have for lunch?
Humming to myself, I opened a delivery app and scrolled down. Jjajangmyeon—noodles in black bean sauce? Or should I go big with braised short ribs?
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Just then, I heard someone knocking at the shrine door.
Well, it wasn't as if customers never barged in without an appointment. Wearing my tired face, I walked over and opened the shrine's front gate.
"We're closed today. Come back some other time."
"So this place does 'business,' does it?"
And standing outside the gate was a rough, thuggish face I'd seen somewhere before.
Park Dongsoo, the detective, wasn't it? Had he come about the traffic accident business? Feeling tense for no good reason, I opened the gate and let him in.
"What brings you here? Even for a detective, I can't take you on today."
"Aw, come on, don't be like that. I'm here about something else this time."
Grinning with easy glibness, Detective Park looked around the courtyard. Come to think of it, this man didn't seem the type to go get readings done on his own two feet. Overtime, maybe?
"Detectives must be busy. Do you even get days off?"
"Oh, you know us well. Even on our days off, we can't rest easy."
Detective Park stole a glance inside the shrine, and when his eyes landed on the statue, they narrowed.
"The atmosphere in this shrine is no joke."
"I had it remodeled recently. You like it?"
"Yes. There's something overwhelming about it... It gives me the shivers."
Midway through the small talk, Detective Park fished out a cigarette and clamped it between his lips. I gave an awkward laugh and turned my head toward the gate.
"You two hovering back there—quit dithering and come in."
At my call, the two men hesitating behind the gate filed in. One face was familiar. The guy whose wife had been cheating on him. Officer Shin, was it?
The other was a stranger. Mid-to-late sixties, an old gentleman dressed impeccably. Detective Park clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"...Heh. You really are something else. How did you know?"
"I knew because I'm something else. Looks like your police confirmed that what I told them was true."
Officer Shin stepped forward and bowed his head. His complexion was awful. Well, the man's whole world had collapsed once already. It would've been stranger if he looked fine.
"...Thank you. Thanks to you, Young Master, I've been able to part ways with the person who was deceiving me."
"Don't mention it. Trash like that, you just call them bastards and bitches and be done with it. You did well."
At my words, Officer Shin let out a bitter smile, while Detective Park clenched his jaw to keep from laughing. That man really was a piece of work too.
"The divorce suit is underway. It shouldn't take too long."
"Get yourself sorted out. If you need help, come find me. And this gentleman is?"
I turned to the old gentleman, and Detective Park scrambled forward.
"Ah, this is... Director Lee Yongdeok of the Central History Museum. You know it, right? It's quite a major museum."
"Never been, but I know it. So what's its director doing here?"
Director Lee Yongdeok removed his hat and inclined his head slightly.
Damn. I'd never met an old man this courteous in my life. With CEO Kim I'd thrown around casual speech and curses without a second thought, but this made my conscience prickle a little.
"I do apologize for calling on you outside of business hours. My name is Lee Yongdeok. If you would be so kind, might you hear this old man out?"
"...Come in. I'll hear what this is about. You two as well—quit standing there like statues and follow along."
Director Lee Yongdeok laughed heartily and stepped into the shrine at my invitation. Officer Shin and Detective Park followed him in cautiously.
...The CEO Kim case had definitely started with talk of some ruins or other, too. Surely this wasn't going to be like that.
Suddenly seized by an ominous premonition, I spoke first.
"Let me say this upfront: I don't know much about history. All I've got is scraps of half-learned trivia I picked up here and there."
"It's nothing to do with history or artifacts, so don't worry."
Director Lee waved his hands in reassurance, and Detective Park held his phone out in front of me. On the screen, footage from the museum's security cameras was cued up.
"Strange things keep happening at the museum lately. Apparently these little clay towu figurines keep moving around in the dead of night?"
"It isn't only the towu figurines that move. An artifact that was here one day turns up somewhere else the next. These things have grown so frequent that..."
So it was a paranormal problem. My brow furrowed at once.
Detective Park started the playback, and I studied the fast-forwarded footage intently.
...So they really do move.
The tiny towu figurines inched along in single file like toy soldiers on parade, halted, then inched again; a jar spun round and round where it stood.
I watched the uncanny phenomenon a while longer, then spoke.
"But if nothing valuable's being damaged, why not just leave it be? Quietly publicize the hauntings and you'd probably draw even bigger crowds."
"Well, you see, if they merely moved, that would be one thing. But the night guards keep hearing strange sounds. Something like a person's chilling laughter..."
Apparently the scientists hadn't been much help. So after circling around, the matter had landed with the police—and then, through the police, with me.
"The guards are worn down, and the artifacts could go missing. What's more, the phenomena are said to be growing stronger. The guards could end up in danger."
"Got it. Something's definitely off, that's for sure."
"C-can you see anything, by any chance?"
"The towu are moving, aren't they?"
Detective Park asked, his face brimming with curiosity, and I gave a dry laugh and pointed at the screen.
"No, not that. I can see that much too. I mean ghosts and things like that. What's that called again? Something like... KAIST?"
"You mean a poltergeist. And weak stray spirits don't show up on camera. People who see ghosts, in the first place, are closer to 'sensing' them than 'seeing' them."
I rubbed my chin, quietly studying the screen. I couldn't judge from video alone, but it might be a stray spirit that had latched onto one of the artifacts.
Or... it could be something else. Something that wasn't an ordinary stray spirit at all.
"Either way, I'll have to see it for myself to know what's going on. You said this only happens at night?"
"Yes. You can count on it starting after midnight."
I nodded and scrawled the details onto a notepad.
"For the fee, just bill it as one standard gut ritual, yeah?"
"Pardon? Ah—yes..."
Director Lee Yongdeok nodded, flustered, while the two cops shot me icy looks from the side.
"What are you looking at?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
I wasn't exactly running a charity, but honestly, I did feel a touch sheepish. Clearing my throat, I rose from my seat.
"All right, then... Let's get going."
Time for my night-guard gig to begin.
A black shirt, a cap, a vest, and a flashlight.
Right now, I was disguised to perfection as a security guard. The night guard who'd helped me check my getup chuckled and gave my shoulder a hearty slap.
"There, all set! It gets plenty scary out there—you sure you'll be fine alone? One guard bolted screaming, you know."
"You sure worry about everything, fretting over a man who sees ghosts."
With a dry laugh, I straightened my collar.
"By the way, if you're a shaman, why dress like this?"
"Some of them catch my scent and go into hiding. This one will. I have to keep things as close to their usual environment as possible."
Stray spirits weren't necessarily mindless things. Depending on their form, their history, their breed, some were sharper than your average human.
"A hunter has to blend in. If I showed up trumpeting 'Hello, I'm a hunter!', they'd all scatter."
"And what's that supposed to be? Care to share a drink?"
The guard pointed at the black plastic bag rustling by my feet. Inside were a bottle of takju—cloudy rice wine—and some buckwheat jelly and slices of boiled pork I'd picked up at the market.
"Not for me to drink. It has its uses."
"Sounds legit. Anyway, like I just told you—one loop of the grounds every hour, on the hour. Got it?"
Suddenly freed from night duty, the man clocked out in high spirits, and I was left alone in the guard post with nothing but the CCTV monitors for company.
It was nine o'clock at night. Things would kick off in about three hours.
Shall we try a little dokkaebi hunting?
Just what kind of creature was hiding in there? I found myself genuinely looking forward to finding out.