Chapter 69
Chapter 69
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: Guardian's Great Fortune (4)
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For several days, they kept watch over the rock suspected to be a Dwark, but the shadow never reappeared.
Worried that Mom might get anxious, Jin-hyuk quietly shared the story of that night only with Dad and Hong Gi-jun.
"We should call in the military and sweep these bastards clean!"
Son Gwang-yeon flew into a rage. With his wife out of sight, he seemed eager to unleash his madness freely. Is Dad the real teenager here? Jin-hyuk wondered, rubbing his throbbing head, when Hong Gi-jun stepped in to calm him.
"Hmm. No evidence, and we could be accused of a false report. Better to hold back."
"I agree, but it still makes me uneasy."
"Guys like that move in secret, so it's best to pass the info to the intelligence agencies. I'll reach out through a contact."
"Okay."
Hong Gi-jun let out a huge sigh of relief as Jin-hyuk backed down without protest.
His secretly assigned watchers had nearly been mistaken for spies.
That wasn't a Dwark anyway.
Hong Gi-jun recalled his actions from a few days ago and vowed never to repeat them.
A few days earlier.
Hong Gi-jun, out for a solitary walk, clicked his tongue in frustration. He paused now and then to check if Son Gwang-yeon's house was in view.
The uneven terrain didn't offer an easy line of sight, as if the vast wilderness concealed its secrets, and the forest loomed dark even in broad daylight with its dense trees.
Still, Son Gwang-yeon's house sat on a prominent hill, suggesting plenty of spots for observation. The land was expansive, but lacking flat plains, small wooded hills rose like ancient tombs, encircling the village like sentinels.
How am I supposed to find where they're posted?
He checked spots from the village outskirts along the roads, irrigation ditches, and even thick branches in the back hills, but couldn't locate the person he wanted to meet.
He'd casually asked Son Gwang-yeon too, but aside from occasional land inspectors, no suspicious figures had been spotted in the village.
Pros wouldn't stand out.
They'd been firmly instructed not to expose themselves, so he figured that was it, but he hadn't even glimpsed their cars.
Maybe they were observing through binoculars from spots too far for the naked eye.
Hong Gi-jun planned to meet the people he'd assigned to watch Son Gwang-yeon, hand over their daily stipend, and encourage them.
The report on Jin-hyuk dealing with the sleazy real estate agent had come from them. They must be hiding somewhere with a clear view of the house, yet he couldn't find them.
Should've set up a meeting first.
He'd never met them in person, but they knew his face.
So they'd guess why he was wandering like this, watching him right now.
Hong Gi-jun pulled out a thick yellow envelope and held it high. He made a full circle, winking conspicuously in all directions.
Satisfied he'd sent the signal, he hid the envelope under a nearby rock and turned away. Even if they missed him, no problem—he could call home and let them know.
Team Leader Yang will love reading the note.
He figured it was time to confide in his friend too.
He felt guilty for the deception and unfair to the guards. He'd ordered them to watch 24/7 in any weather, and even tough agents would suffer.
Keeping it to myself is giving me headaches.
It was because of the family's wish to stay unaware and his friend's request.
That's why he'd told Jin-hyuk about his own mother's situation but not his father's past.
I'll tell him before heading back to Seoul.
Reaching the yard, he scanned the area again.
There seemed to be plenty of suitable spots for building houses at a distance.
Project name: 'From Shadows to Light' fits perfectly.
He chuckled, jotting busily in his notebook. Even trivial ideas could spark business plans for Hong Gi-jun, so he didn't want to forget the inspiration.
「Security Team: 4 units, 12 personnel. Establish security firm alongside, form VIP dedicated team.」
He tore out the page, then pulled a finely folded parchment from his pocket.
The parchment was filled with tiny, dense script. He folded the torn paper inside and refolded it. This was how he kept important info secure.
People saw Hong Gi-jun as a genius CEO, but no one knew he was nothing without this parchment.
"Where've you been? Coming back now?"
"Huh? Just digesting a bit."
He jumped at the voice behind him and turned.
Yu Se-ra was stepping out the front door, holding the hands of their two children.
Hong Gi-jun feigned calm and asked back.
"You heading out for a walk too? It's hot—better rest inside—"
That was when it happened.
"Honey, honeyyy!"
Bang!
Son Gwang-yeon's urgent shout came from inside, accompanied by the sound of fireworks exploding.
Hong Gi-jun's eyes went wide.
"What was that?"
"The sound of Gwang-yeon oppa's fortune hitting the mark."
Yu Se-ra shrugged.
What on earth did it mean?
Hong Gi-jun never figured out the source of the firecracker noise.
Another sweltering summer day dawned.
Few houses had walls or fences.
Even those that did were just for blocking harsh winter winds and typhoons; gates were rarely locked, so neighbors could easily step into each other's yards and verandas.
This was a place where you'd invite the mailman at mealtime, serve him fresh side dishes and hot rice. Neighbors would peek into your bag on the veranda, then wander in uninvited out of curiosity, sharing life stories and lending a hand before leaving.
Even roe deer or wildcats playing in the yard were met with a casual shrug. People were always welcome.
One uncle, leaving his family in town to live in a far village for small-scale dairy farming, bragged about getting so lonely he played go-stop with a goblin and became sworn brothers. One day, he paraded around showing off a horn the goblin had given after losing his stake. Hard to believe goblins existed, but it showed how they embraced strangers without suspicion.
Unimaginable in Seoul. Son Gwang-yeon, who feared leeches but loved people, appreciated that side of rural life—no fences or gates. His modern house had sturdy steel front doors instead of paper screens, making gates unnecessary anyway.
"Hot as hell—sweatin' buckets!"
Cheon Gil-ryong set out.
Wearing a wide-brimmed hat against the blazing sun, he puffed on his pipe as he followed the winding paved bus road.
That kid's shadow was thick.
He'd spent sleepless nights overwhelmed by the boy's aura. As someone even ghosts sensed, it bruised his pride.
Most fortune-tellers sat comfortably, reading faces or birth charts. Some had spiritual gifts but lost them chasing ease. Cheon Gil-ryong was different—a master in all aspects, inheriting his abilities from his brother since childhood.
If the old man were alive, he'd have seen through it instantly.
His brother, Cheon Gi-ryung, possessed the Spirit Eye. He gathered mischievous spirits near home to prevent harm, scolded vengeful ghosts wandering the afterlife, spotted divine beings or the soon-to-die. He even relayed fresh souls' last words to the living—his powers were astonishing.
The ghosts now living in the bamboo grove by Cheon Gil-ryong's house were ones his brother had assigned to protect him. Mostly kind, playful, and timid. Funny thing: some grim reapers refused to return to the afterlife, preferring the living world.
If even petty ghosts and reapers hold their breath, that kid's got something.
Cheon Gil-ryong lacked innate Spirit Eyes but had strong divine power and his brother's wisdom.
When Jin-hyuk visited days ago, he'd been too flustered by the intimidating aura to examine closely.
Need to check the house too.
He wanted to know what in that house was shifting the village's energy.
Maybe a spiritual ghost or a mighty one called Great God. If it was Heavenly Emperor level, even his powers might not detect it.
What... if a Great God dwells there, I'd bolt like hell.
No big loss if he fled, but better avoided. He hadn't seen ghostly traits in the boy, yet his body had trembled instinctively.
Striding swiftly despite the distance, he soon reached Jin-hyuk's house. Leaning on his glossy wand, he looked like a Daoist using shrinking steps.
"Hello, sir."
The people-loving Son Gwang-yeon lit up. This elder from the inner village was a rare sight. He'd only seen him during house construction—15 years ago already?
But it wasn't the same person.
Unaware of the truth, Son Gwang-yeon marveled quietly.
Heard he'd passed ninety, yet so spry. His light, vigorous gait evoked an ancient warrior. Taller than Son Gwang-yeon too—like facing a mountain spirit.
"Yes, yes."
Cheon Gil-ryong, pleased by the greeting, circled the yard, inspecting the house.
He walked the perimeter, puffing pipe smoke like disinfectant, tapped walls with his wand—tap-tap.
Son Gwang-yeon silently followed, not asking why or what he was doing.
The wand stayed calm, so no Great God. Cheon Gil-ryong muttered.
He spoke loudly for Son Gwang-yeon, hands clasped politely.
"This site's much improved. Good airflow, sunlight, moonlight too."
Son Gwang-yeon grinned warmly in response.
"Thanks to your advice, we rotated the old house and rebuilt."
"Yes, yes. Dry your soybean paste blocks and roast your back there—perfect."
Not my advice, but good job. Cheon Gil-ryong glanced where Son Gwang-yeon pointed, lips twitching.
There stood Jin-hyuk's birth home, unchanged in form despite being new.
Cheon Gil-ryong nodded and turned away without lingering, business done. House clear, now reexamine the boy—but he was absent, so he smacked his lips in regret.
Then Han Yu-young called urgently.
"Sir, please stay for a meal."
"No need for—"
Cheon Gil-ryong stopped at the sight of her.
Her eyes pleaded desperately, face like she was holding back tears. Not unfamiliar—the look rural brides gave him, evoking fathers left behind.
He stayed so hale for reasons like this. Women saw their distant dads in him, fussing to feed him. They'd sneak precious ginseng or herbs, check his pantry.
So he understood Han Yu-young. Not as keenly as his brother, but he was a true sage too.
Reminds her of her father.
Cheon Gil-ryong closed and opened his eyes.
She must be a late blessing among late ones, raised with abundant paternal love—how deep her longing. Her father would be his peer if alive. One meal was nothing.
He clasped hands humbly, gazing at her.
"May I eat in the yard?"
"Yes! I'll set it right up."
Han Yu-young wiped the table with a cloth and dashed inside, thrilled. Reddened eyes twitching, lips smiling joyfully.
Stunned by his wife's unfamiliar joy, Son Gwang-yeon silently prepared the table.
Soon, a spread was laid under the sophora tree's shade.
Before touching his spoon, Cheon Gil-ryong surveyed the food.
Solid spread. Been a while since a feast.
His wife had made modest abalone the day before yesterday—two days?
Before chopsticks, he eyed the table like an immortal surveying the world. Tofu-rich buk-eot guk, yellow-mushroom soybean stew, grilled fish, neat vegetable muchim—satisfying.
A new dish followed.
"Please try this too."
A gap-toothed girl carefully set down a plate.
Egg-battered ham, fried—new to Cheon Gil-ryong.
Looked like pork cutlets at a glance.
"Oh ho, what's this?"
"Ham. Tudengi's favorite."
Bringing the kid's fave herself—ultimate VIP treatment. Cheon Gil-ryong beamed at her (Hong Su-jeong? Wait, no—from context, the girl).
He bit into the egg-fried ham.
Oof, salty!
For the girl watching eagerly, he chewed with gusto. Toothless herself, she'd yielded her share. Still salty. Scooping heaps of rice helped. A cool barley tea cleared his throat.
"Heh heh—rice thief indeed!"
"Right, right. Want more?"
More?
Cold sweat trickled down Cheon Gil-ryong's back.
Patting his chest as it stuck, an even smaller child approached.
"Please, one more?"
Tough opponents.
Ugh... should I have come?
Came to check for ghosts, now haunting one myself.