The Island Village Shaman Dad Is a Chaebol’s Illegitimate Child 5
Dad.
It was no mistake. Seven-year-old Sol-bi was Kang-to’s biological daughter. Strangely enough, her story followed a path very much like this chairman’s. Kang-to had done a DNA test on Sol-bi as well.
It had been his freshman year in college. By the end of the semester, upperclassmen and underclassmen were thrown together for a gathering. “Gathering” was a generous word; it was practically mandatory attendance. In provincial universities, the senior-junior hierarchy could be as brutal as anything in the physical education departments. Kang-to’s backwater college was, if anything, even worse.
The problem was...
Yoo Se-ran, the senior sitting beside Kang-to.
“So you’re Lee Kang-to?”
She squeezed into the seat beside him with a bottle of soju already in hand. At that point, Kang-to didn’t know her at all.
She drank like a water buffalo. After downing three straight shots, she demanded a toast. When Kang-to hesitated, she snapped at his classmates and whipped the room into the mood of a drinking bout.
Kang-to had been avoiding alcohol because of his shamanic illness, and so he got drunk fast.
“They say you’ve got a healer’s hands?”
Yoo Se-ran leaned in close. Apparently she’d heard he had a special affinity with plants. Her perfume was so strong it left Kang-to’s senses slightly hazy.
“Come by my place and show off that skill of yours. I’m in the plant business, and my precious Albo Monstera is basically dead. You know what an Albo Monstera is, right?”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“Oh? This guy knows something.”
“......”
“I was supposed to sell it for 2.8 million won, and I even took the advance. Then I went to Japan and came back to find it completely ruined. Volunteer work, yes or no?”
She had his arm locked around her neck, so there was no easy way to refuse.
Se-ran’s place was a studio apartment. A number of rare plants sat on the balcony side. When Kang-to touched them, they didn’t spring back to life in lush vigor. They withered at high speed instead.
It was because he’d been drinking. After alcohol, his miraculous Child of the Soil skill wouldn’t activate. In shamanic terms, the place had been polluted by impurity.
“Damn it, do you have any idea how much this thing costs?” Se-ran stared blankly. Her wandering soul was quickly recharged as she poured more soju into it.
“Drink. It’s punishment.”
She offered him a glass, and it was hard to refuse.
He felt guilty for killing such an expensive plant. After a few more shots, his head swam. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes for a moment.
“......?”
When he opened them, it was morning.
“Ugh...”
His head felt like it was splitting open. That wasn’t the important part. The room looked unfamiliar. He wasn’t in his great-uncle’s house.
And more importantly...
“......?”
There was a woman there. A naked woman, with not a thread on her body. It was senior Se-ran, still thick with perfume. She opened her eyes and pulled him toward her.
“Senior... mmph.”
Kang-to couldn’t get a word out. Se-ran’s barrage of kisses saw to that. That was only the beginning. It didn’t stop at his lips; she climbed right on top of him.
Se-ran was cool. At least when it came to physical matters.
After they finished, after the uneven fit of their bodies was over and even a shower was done, she came back with her body half-covered, pointed at the door, and said, “Get out. If you spread any rumors, you’re dead.”
That was the end of it.
It wasn’t easy to see her again as a senior in her final year.
He only heard later, in his second year, that she used to pursue men she liked in exactly that way. Not long after hearing that rumor, Se-ran came to Kang-to’s place. She was holding a baby, about six months old.
“It’s your daughter. Temporary name’s Matilda. She’s named after the heroine in one of my favorite old movies.”
“Senior?”
“You didn’t wear boots that day, did you?”
“......?”
“I was completely drunk that day too... ah, shit.”
Se-ran scratched at her own head.
“Senior.”
“I missed my chance to get an abortion, so I had her. Why? You people kept going on about bastards, bastards, so I thought I’d try raising one, and this is fucking hard. So you raise her.”
“Senior.”
“I gave birth at home, so there’s no birth registration either. I filed a waiver of parental rights, and I’m not giving child support or anything, so don’t worry and just keep fighting, okay?”
She patted Kang-to on the shoulder and left him with a perfect example of shamelessness.
“Waaah!”
Before he could say anything else, the baby cried. Looking down, he realized the arm he was holding her with was hot. He had no experience with childcare, but he could tell something was off.
Oh hell.
It was a generous load of poop. It looked as though it had been left too long inside the diaper, oozing down in thick streaks. He wiped her roughly with tissue, then bought wet wipes and cleaned up the mess.
Right at that moment—
“Ababa.”
A babble came out.
That one word stole Kang-to’s soul and breath. He heard it as “Dad, dad.”
“She does look like you, doesn’t she?”
His great-aunt, returning from the market, burst out laughing after hearing Kang-to’s confession. She trusted him, but this situation still seemed bizarre even to her.
What now?
There was nothing to think about.
The next morning, the island’s mother came by. Without a word, she took the baby into her arms. It seemed the guardian deity had already given her a message through gongsu.
Giggle, giggle.
Everyone else looked serious, but Sol-bi was an exception.
“Ababa.”
She flailed both arms toward Kang-to. Was blood stronger than the law of universal gravitation? Even though they were meeting for the first time, she didn’t shy away or fuss.
Se-ran’s phone was dead the entire time.
The place she’d been living in already had someone else in it. When he asked around through a graduating senior, he heard she’d probably fallen for a new boyfriend and run off to Japan with him. Only then did Kang-to understand that the rumor of “pick-up queen Se-ran” wasn’t a rumor at all. It was fact.
“What are we supposed to do? You saying this kid’s yours, Kang-to? And she’s so quiet, too. Fine, I’ll raise her.”
His great-aunt was the savior. Once the baby’s DNA test results came in, she decided to look after her.
“Let’s call her Sol-bi.”
The name was given by his mother. It meant “rain carrying the scent of pine.”
“Sol-bi, what do you think of the name?”
“Ababa.”
Whenever Kang-to called to her, she waved both arms and laughed. Each time, it felt like watching a butterfly beat its wings.
Sol-bi.
He registered her as his daughter. It satisfied both the biological father and the legal father. One of his college friends said his life was fucked, but Kang-to thought differently. It wasn’t fucked at all. It was the first flower his life had ever produced. That was how Kang-to became a single father.
***
“I’m heading out. Our Dharma Master Kang-to can sit still and not move a finger.”
Sangju-daek picked up her bag. On the far horizon, a passenger ferry had begun to appear. The pier was already waking up. It wasn’t a busy day for tourists, but the ferry was the island’s artery. It brought packages and daily necessities, after all.
“Everyone back up. The boat’ll splash water when it comes in.”
Fishermen’s Association head Kim Il-seung and village chief Choi Byeong-gae were bustling about. Choi, who also served as the senior citizens’ association chairman, was in charge of pier management. Recently, the two of them had formed quite the odd little duo.
As the ferry docked, vehicles started rolling out first.
“Goodness, Director, you’ve come?”
The fishermen’s head Kim Il-seung and Choi Byeong-gae bowed and scraped toward a glossy sedan.
Since the island’s two village chiefs had already split into two camps, Chief Choi had clearly chosen the pro-development side.
“Looks like they’re the people telling folks to sell their land?”
The old men murmured near the ticket office.
“They’ve been coming often lately, haven’t they?”
“Are they really going to develop it this time?”
“Or are they just going to prowl around telling people to sell?”
“Have you signed?”
“Not yet... some guy who said he was a manager came by, but I’m worried about how I’m supposed to make a living if I go ashore...”
“Same here, honestly. My son keeps telling me to sell while the chance is here, but with his temper, do you think he’d take care of me? Better to catch octopus in the mudflats and pick up clams here than to go somewhere strange like Seoul and collect cardboard boxes.”
Their conversation carried the island’s anxieties in it.
Riding the development wave, the land prices had risen a little. That had led to some sales of vacant homes and plots owned by people who had moved away. On top of that, their children on the mainland were pressuring them relentlessly to sell everything now and come away.
But for those whose lives were rooted here, the decision was hard. Once they left for the mainland, there would be nothing left to do. Most were over sixty, so they couldn’t exactly get new jobs somewhere else.
Kang-to returned to the lighthouse.
The ferry was already pulling away in the direction of nearby Gyecheong Island. Sangju-daek waved with both hands from the deck. Gyecheong Island, unlike Chilui Island, was full of life. It had a township office, a middle school, and conveniences like agricultural cooperatives and a Saemaul bank. Ah, and there was even a shaman there who took in tourists by claiming to be a descendant of Chilui Island’s shamans.
Long ago, Gyecheong Island had hardly any people either. Its area was large, but there were no mudflats, and its coastal geography made docking facilities poor.
That changed after a man from Gyecheong Island went to the mainland and became a National Assembly member. When a massive docking facility went up, the situation reversed overnight. Residents from nearby islands gathered there, and it immediately became a key hub for the whole region.
He turned his back on the lighthouse and looked toward Chiluijae. It felt as though the Big Dipper had settled onto the earth. Chilui Island was the center of the West Sea. At the same time, it was where the energies of heaven, earth, and water converged. If one were to judge by its inner spiritual force, it was a place no other island in Korea could replace, even if one were given the entire nation’s islands in exchange.
Fortunately, his mother had understood that value. That was why she had protected it even by opening her own seal.
He climbed the second hill of Chiluijae and looked back at the lighthouse. In terms of the Big Dipper, it was the second-to-last point at the handle’s end. In constellation lore, it was also said to be the place that granted wishes, which made it his mother’s favorite prayer ground in life.
The lighthouse had been built during the Japanese colonial era. More than a hundred years had passed, and yet it had lost none of its dignified presence. The person who built it must not have been ordinary either. That was why the lighthouse had been planted, solidly and deliberately, at the point where the veins of Chiluijae met.
The lighthouse legend proved as much.
According to his grandfather, three men died while it was being built. The lighthouse had been laid brick by brick, and whenever a worker laid a hand on the bricks, he would vomit blood and die. Those three were murderers who had killed people on the mainland and fled. The lighthouse did not permit unclean hands.
Kieee—
The cries of wandering vengeful spirits and sea spirits roaming the island reached Kang-to’s ears.
But none of their thrashing could so much as challenge Chiluijae or the lighthouse. Even the curse of Asura was cut off here.
The lighthouse.
It was Kang-to’s chosen new shrine.
His mother’s guardian deity was an old grandmother, the Byeolsa Grandmother, a fairly high-ranking ancestral spirit, but still not a deity of the heavenly realm. A shrine that had housed such a guardian could not possibly receive the Nine Heavens Maiden, supreme ruler of heaven.
Besides, the lighthouse also meant illumination of the world. Perhaps that, too, had been his mother’s foresight. That was why he had gone to the trouble of acquiring it.
There’s no law saying a lighthouse can’t be used to see fortunes.
Kang-to’s lighthouse consisted of the main tower and its auxiliary buildings.
The tower was three stories tall, reached by stairs. The lamp room and the lantern apparatus were on the third floor. It was so old it was practically a cultural heritage site. His grandfather had lived and slept in the auxiliary building while keeping the lighthouse lit. As a one-man lighthouse, he could hardly have been granted any real vacation. He had lived with the lighthouse for 365 days a year.
The inside wasn’t spacious, but if it was carefully arranged, there would be no problem with bringing down a gongsu. Using the auxiliary facilities as well made it even less of an issue.
He looked out over the sea from the lantern room. The lighthouse had once guided ships across the water. From now on, it would be transformed into a sacred tower that guided lost lives and wandering spirits in the middle of their existence.
“Hello?”
Once he’d finished laying out the plan, he called the mainland.
One of his college classmates, Sang-gyu, had a father who ran an interior design business. During school breaks, Kang-to had worked a few part-time jobs under him. Sang-gyu’s father was practically a pro-level expert who knew his cultural assets, and he was also dependable, so he was the perfect person to entrust with a shrine.
“A shrine? You mean fortune-telling?”
“Yeah.”
“So you’re really going down that road after all? Where’s the place opening?”
“On our island, Chilui.”
“On the island?”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t that a bit off? If you’re doing it anyway, why not go to Seoul where there are more people?”
“Then I’ll just make an island that people come looking for.”
“......”
“Would that be impossible?”
“Well, if it’s you, maybe not.”
“Anyway, please take good care of your father for me.”
“Don’t worry. Who do you think stopped my dad from going under? If it’s for you, my dad would drop everything and fly out.”
Sang-gyu sounded genuinely willing.
It was because of the fortune Kang-to had read for him when he was still an aspiring shaman. At the time, Sang-gyu’s father had planned to take a contract for the interior construction of a huge building. During a part-time shift, Kang-to had warned him. He’d seen a dark mark in his friend’s father’s face. At first Sang-gyu’s father hadn’t believed him, but when another of Kang-to’s predictions came true, he turned down the contract.
That building suffered a massive fire just before completion.
Because the project had been passed from subcontractor to subcontractor, there had been no real way to recover the construction costs. If he had gone all in on it, Sang-gyu’s father would have been ruined.
The call with Sang-gyu didn’t last long. He was scheduled to take over his father’s business someday, so he was probably sweating at some indoor construction site even now.
Kang-to started clearing the interior. This was a place thick with memories of his grandfather, and then of his mother. So he didn’t even want to leave this cleanup to Sangju-daek.
By the time he finished tidying up the lighthouse, he sensed someone nearby.
“Over here.”
The voice rose up from below the lighthouse. Looking down through the window, he saw the people who had come in the sedan.
“What’s the matter?”
“Are you the owner of this land?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Could we talk for a moment?”
“If you’re here to tell me to sell the land, I have nothing to say.”
“Just for a moment.”
The man in sunglasses had no intention of backing off easily. If they kept coming back, it would be a pain. To make the point clear, Kang-to came down from the lighthouse.
“I’m the sort of person who gets things done. What about you?”
The man took off his sunglasses and handed over a business card.
[Lee Deok-gu, Executive Director of Marketing, Golden Development]
The title on the card glimmered in gold.
They were real estate people drawn in by the rumors of development. There was a scar by his eye and hideous tattoos peeking out beneath his shirt. His facial features and the jae-sal in his fortune suggested trouble, so this was no place to puff out one’s chest.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“This land here, we were just about to close the contract on it, but you went and snatched it out from under us. That’s no way for a young man to behave. From the looks of it, you’ve got some major backer behind you, so let’s speak plainly.”
The man’s voice hardened. It was a warning of sorts.
“So?”
“We picked this island first. That means you should hand over the land. We’ll pay better than anyone else.”
“If we’re talking about picking it first, I got there ahead of you. My grandfather claimed this land, and then my mother did too.”
“You’re too young to understand how the world works. You’d better negotiate while we’re still being nice.”
The men flanking him on both sides puffed themselves up with menace. Chiluijae and the lighthouse were the flower of this island. So if one was trying to develop the whole island, it was difficult to imagine making a plan that left this place out.
“Tch. You’re a great landowner. How dare you talk like that?”
The man in sunglasses gave a pointed look, trying to control the atmosphere. In the old days, Kang-to might have been a little intimidated by this sort of scene. But now, he found it laughable.
“My employees can be a bit rough. That’s the nature of land acquisition. If things go sideways, people can get hurt...”
In the end, they were following the script they had always intended. Intimidate first, then coax.
“Do you have a backer?”
“A very impressive one.”
“If you don’t mind, could you tell us who it is? We’d be happy to show proper respect at headquarters...”
The executive’s swagger reached the heavens.
The reason they’d kept Cheonjo Group’s involvement hidden was because they had quietly acquired Chiluijae. On top of that, Kang-to still wasn’t officially registered, so to speak.
It was because of Kang-to’s shamanic illness. If he died just as he was, with a rare mental condition even the best hospitals in Korea couldn’t diagnose, that would have been a blessing in their eyes.
“I’m a body that has received the mountain shaman’s calling, so I follow the divine decree. My backer is the heavenly deity, the supreme sovereign.”
“......”
The executive’s face stiffened, turning beet red.
“What the hell are you babbling about now, you little shit?”
One of the men in back stepped forward, but the executive stopped him.
“You’re not fucking with us right now, are you?”
The executive’s voice turned cold too. He had played the part of a friendly man, but his patience had hit bottom.
“Since we’ve met like this, I’ll deliver a gongsu. It’ll be the first one ever given to a mainlander, so I won’t charge a fee.”
“What are you talking about?”
“By the sign of jae-sal, you’ll be detained before today is over. So you’d better settle your mind.”
“What did you say?”
“I said you’re going to prison. Before today is over.”
“Ah, this bastard’s really asking for it.”
Just as the man in back started to lose his temper, the executive’s phone rang.
“Yeah, it’s me. What?”
As he listened, the executive’s face drained white.
“What is it?” the man behind him asked.
“Damn it... the bribes we paid when we were taking that big job down in the southern sea in the spring... all of it’s been exposed. They’re telling us to get out because the criminal arrest team has already been dispatched.”
“......?”
The employees’ mouths fell open.
A country boy from some godforsaken island, Lee Kang-to.
What had looked like child’s play, a joke of a gongsu.
It had struck dead-on as a live, on-the-spot divine hit.