Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 003
Chapter Title: If You Fall Asleep, You Die (1)
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Chowon Garden, located on the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province, had been newly selected by CNN as one of the world's eight greatest horror spots this year.
"Don't waste time on pointless stories—go to the hot spots and bring back good shots with a reputable psychic researcher or shaman for credibility!"
Under Editor Kim Cho-seon's stern warning, Byung-su hastily assembled a reporting team.
"What's with updating horror spots? CNN must have a lot of free time on their hands."
Standing in front of Chowon Garden, Byung-su muttered to himself, and Hong Sang-in, his high school classmate now famous as a psychic researcher, chuckled.
"Hahaha, CNN's got nothing better to do besides Kim Byung-su? Did they come here to report or just pick it?"
The abandoned garden of Chowon Garden was overgrown with weeds reaching up to their thighs.
Kim Byung-su and his team pushed through the grass, illuminating the darkness with flashlights.
"Ow! Damn it!"
Eun Na-rae, the reporter whose hand had been cut by sharp grass blades, grumbled.
Filming with a handheld camera while parting the weeds was twice as hard for her as for the others.
"Ugh, what kind of grass is this tough? Damn it."
As rough words slipped out involuntarily, Byung-su tossed her a silly joke.
"It's tough, so it's pampas grass. Hang in there a bit. If we get good shots today, it won't just benefit me."
Byung-su soothed Na-rae as he reached the door.
Na-rae, tall and strikingly beautiful, had graduated from the police academy and served as a lieutenant at Suseo Police Station.
While investigating a deputy chief prosecutor's corruption as a rookie lieutenant, she faced external pressure and resigned dramatically.
Should she get married? Find a job?
After serious deliberation, she joined the online news outlet KD Report.
Editor Kim Cho-seon, impressed by her background, assigned her to the religion and science team to monitor the troublemaker Byung-su, who chased absurd stories, and to fact-check him.
Byung-su knew she was his watchdog but welcomed her warmly anyway.
It was a "team" in name only; before she joined, he had been the sole team leader and member in a one-man department, so even a supervisor was a relief.
Na-rae had been with the team for less than two years but had seen all sorts of things trailing Byung-su, so little surprised her anymore.
Though he was called trash reporter, Byung-su had a small loyal readership, plus plenty who read while cursing him, giving his articles unmatched views.
Even his article from a few years back on the "Cheorwon Werewolf" had gone viral overseas, and now he even had blonde foreign readers running it through translators just to curse it out.
Tips poured in, keeping Na-rae busy chasing Byung-su through haunted scraps and abandoned buildings for a year straight.
The busier they got, the harsher Editor Kim Cho-seon's scoldings became: "Forget monitoring and fact-checking—you're bringing in this crap? That's why he gets called trash reporter!"
'Ugh, annoying! This story's gonna get hate too... Maybe quit again and just get married?'
Stuck with Byung-su on endless day-and-night assignments, she had no time to meet men, making marriage tricky.
'Sigh, because of the team leader, I'm really...'
Even as she grumbled, she'd flash a big smile if Byung-su glanced back.
Working with him had mellowed her personality.
She'd been burned by society a bit.
While she muttered, Byung-su, pushing the door, paused and murmured.
"It's shut."
The glass entrance door was firmly closed.
The darkness made it impossible to peer inside even with lights.
"Of course it's shut. You think it'd be open?"
Hesitating for Byung-su, psychic researcher Sang-in kicked in the glass and unlatched it.
Sang-in, who gained fame on the TV show 'Mystery Theater,' occasionally joined Byung-su's reports at his friend's request.
With a creepy creak, the door swung open.
A stench of mold, vomit, and rotting fish wafted out pungently.
Byung-su choked back a gag.
"That's ghost reek."
The old woman who called herself the Mia-ri Virgin Bodhisattva covered her nose and mouth with her hand as she spoke.
Byung-su asked curiously.
"Shaman-nim, what's ghost reek?"
"I'm not a shaman, I'm a bodhisattva. Virgin Bodhisattva!"
Byung-su quickly played along with the old woman, over seventy yet insisting on virgin bodhisattva.
"Ah, yes. Of course. 'If you've come enamored with my beauty, you'll get a scolding!' I know. Virgin Bodhisattva-nim. So, what's ghost reek?"
The old woman, pleased, explained in a gentler tone.
"What else? It's the smell ghosts give off. Each has its own scent, and this place has quite the variety. Means there are several around. Door's open—let's go in."
She brushed past Byung-su and Sang-in at the door and led the way.
Byung-su and Sang-in followed, with Na-rae filming into the darkness.
The old woman had insisted on leaving the door open, so a chill wind blew from behind.
Na-rae's long hair, tied loosely with a rubber band down to her back, swayed side to side.
"It's bigger than I thought."
Byung-su said, hand over his mouth.
The old woman pulled salt, mugwort, and some unidentified dried herbs from her pants pocket, set them by the entrance, and lit them.
It was a temporary measure to ward off the disorienting ghost reek.
The wind from behind carried the smoke inward.
"Gasp, what is this? Granny, look over here."
Na-rae, filming with her back to the door, called the old woman.
"This girl? Virgin Bodhisattva, I said!"
The old woman's eyes widened despite her irritation.
In the camera light on the floor stood an inexplicable darkness.
It was a three-dimensional shadow about waist-high and two handspans wide.
Like a black hole swallowing the camera light.
No light passed through this small darkness.
Byung-su and Sang-in shone their lights on it too.
The light vanished into the darkness.
Byung-su cautiously inserted his hand into it.
Light couldn't pass, but his hand moved freely without obstruction.
It was just an empty dark space, nothing there.
Yet his hand was invisible, hidden by the darkness.
"Amazing. My hand disappeared. Reporter Eun! Get a good shot of this!"
He examined the ominous darkness fearlessly.
"Sang-in, what do you make of it?"
The old woman squatted, peering at it, and asked Sang-in.
Sang-in knelt beside her to inspect it, phone in hand.
"Southwest direction. It's a ghost gate."
His phone displayed a compass app.
"Have you seen ghost gates before?"
The old woman asked back at Sang-in's words.
Sang-in nodded silently in reply.
"You have. Where?"
"Several places in Korea. England too, and recently near Daesung University."
The old woman tilted her head at Sang-in's answer.
"In my seventy years, first time. You've got skills, seeing them multiple times. Impressive. So, how'd you survive the previous ones?"
She turned her head toward Sang-in and asked again.
Her expression unchanging, hard to read her intent.
"Hahaha. If this is your first ghost gate, Bodhisattva-nim, why worry about my survival?"
Sang-in replied with a quiet laugh, and the old woman dusted her hands and stood.
She gazed down briefly, muttering to herself.
"How many could see a gate linked to the underworld and live unscathed?"
"Linked to the underworld?"
Byung-su asked the old woman.
The word "underworld" seemed enticing.
The pitiful old woman clicked her tongue at Byung-su still swirling his hand in the darkness.
"Pull that hand out before it gets chopped off. Ghost gates are doors spirits pass through. Some say they're connected to the underworld. This place isn't wrecked for nothing. Probably low-level ghosts coming and going. Some might be tough to handle."
"Ah... yes."
The old woman bellowed at Byung-su still poking around.
"Hey! Still? Pull it out now!"
Byung-su sheepishly withdrew his hand and said.
"I've seen one before. Few years back, reporting at a suicide lodge on Jirisan. Didn't know it was a ghost gate then. Anyway, waving my hand around is just checking for the story. Reporter spirit. Haha."
"Jirisan? You've got luck. Be careful anyway. Worry more about your brains than reporter spirit."
Na-rae chimed in softly, urging them on.
"With the famous psychic expert and Bodhisattva-nim here, no worries today. Let's head up. Hehe."
As Byung-su moved, he asked Sang-in.
"Feel anything? Ghost gate's cool, but for the article, a ghost visual would be perfect..."
The old woman tsked again at Byung-su's prodding.
Sang-in pointed to the stairs to the second floor instead of answering and took the lead.
Something promising seemed to be up there.
The old woman sidled up to Sang-in leading the way and whispered.
"Sang-in, anything you're hiding from me?"
"Why would I, Bodhisattva-nim?"
He answered politely.
Still suspicious, the old woman pressed.
"Then why lead these folks upstairs when there's something stronger than me up there? Want me dead? Or can your fancy psychic research handle evil spirits?"
She sniped at the renowned psychic researcher Sang-in.
"I'd never dare. Even if the spirits here are strong, they can't beat you, Bodhisattva-nim. Reporter Kim Byung-su wants good spirit photos, so help out."
Sang-in's words made sense on the surface.
Just that the spirits here seemed pretty fierce.
Climbing the wooden stairs intensified the rotten fish stench.
An acrid smell that choked them.
The old woman leading paused, turned calmly to Byung-su.
"How fast can you run?"
"Uh? Well."
"Stick behind me, and when I say run, don't look back—run with Reporter Eun."
Byung-su nodded silently, and she resumed ascending.
The wide second-floor room with wooden floors was cluttered with low dining tables.
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
At the eerie sound, Byung-su shone his light.
In the center darkness, a man sat cross-legged on a black coffin, carving something with a sickle.
He was small but sturdy.
Beside him sat the Black Dog, eyes aglow.
Hard to make out the breed in the shadows.
The old woman and Sang-in sensed no malice from the man, but the coffin he sat on was different.
Unknown contents, but it exuded powerful spirit energy.
The ghost reek permeating the floor surely came from it.
Around the man, ripped-up floorboards lay piled haphazardly.
Next to the coffin, sharpened stakes were neatly arranged.
He was splitting the torn boards into stakes.
Even hearing footsteps, the man kept carving in the dark.
As Byung-su's light hit, the Black Dog rose and growled low.
"Who is it? Shining lights suddenly is rude, no? You living folks—if you wanna live, don't stand on those stairs, get behind me, or leave quick."
His gruff voice echoed across the floor.
No wariness in his tone.
Sang-in stepped forward cautiously and asked.
"You threatening us? Or is behind you really safe?"
"Only safe spot here's behind me. No time—go or get behind."
The man replied, neatly stacking a sharpened stake.
Curious about the man's identity, Byung-su whispered to the old woman.
"He's alive, right?"
"No spirit energy. But he doesn't look normal either."
She answered quietly and stepped forward.
"What are you? What kind of guy works in the dark without lights?"
The man pondered her question briefly, then laughed.
"Straight to yelling? Heh, name's Choi Ga-ra. What brings you lot here?"
Far from threatening.
Choi Ga-ra eyed the group slowly.
Not sharp, but deep, weighty gaze.
After silently scanning them, he picked up a stake and spoke.
"Strange bunch. Whatever, not my business—get behind me quick! Hurry!"
His gruff voice boomed across the wide second floor again.