Haldak Pass 1
She wanted to grow the tier of the YouTube channel she ran, but she had to say all sorts of things for that money to come straight to her—no need to play hard to get. It was because she wanted only the desperate ones, the first method shamans used to bewitch people, to come find them, so she hadn't left any contact info for the agency anywhere.
"So you're saying there's nothing to do?"
"Yes."
"Then let's go to Gangwon-do together."
"Why Gangwon-do?"
"Someone I know is doing a gut ritual up there and invited me to come watch."
"Going out of our way to see a gut ritual feels a bit... Could we film that too, by any chance?"
"Not sure. It's not agency business, so no reason to upload it."
"True enough."
They filmed to show clients the raw on-site action, not for everyday stuff or shaman work. The popularity from that previous case was just a fluke.
"You coming?"
"If the boss says go, I go, heh. But what about Baek-gu? He's still too young to leave alone."
"Hmm..."
If he'd grown a bit more sturdily, she'd just toss him in the car and cruise around, but a puppy who couldn't hold his bladder yet? That was a hard pass. Before cute, the car would reek of shit and piss.
"Leave him with a friend who looks after strays for a bit."
"He hasn't even memorized his owner's face yet. Bouncing him around like that, he won't recognize anyone later."
As worries piled up one per mouth, her brother, who'd been quietly listening from the side, spoke up impassively.
"If it's just a short trip, I'll watch him."
"You, Oppa?"
Hyeon-a's brows furrowed slightly. The guy who staunchly opposed his own kids wanting pets was offering to raise him properly? The taciturn type with zero connection to cute puppies—how well would he treat the little guy? But there were no better options. By her logic, handing him to a friend was no different from dumping him at a shelter.
"Not sure how many days it'll take. If something fun pops up there, we might stay longer; otherwise, straight back."
"Let me know the situation. Worst case, leave him at my place."
With his words putting her mind at ease, Hyeon-a, who'd been angling to bail using the puppy as an excuse, nodded and agreed to come along. Still couldn't ditch her video greed, packing her usual gear. They were leaving tomorrow, but she was already tidying her spot.
"Boss, lots of people asking for contact info to request agency work. What do we do?"
"Round up any with interesting stories or cases and send 'em over. Cut all the weird 'let's film together' crap."
"Got it."
Wondering just how popular it was, she pulled up Hyeon-a's YouTube and checked the comments. Despite zero editing tricks or contrived setups—just raw, flowing footage—half were fake drama trolls, half genuinely hooked. The shaman popping up mid-video had some asking where her house was. This one clip summed up why shaman houses thrived alongside religious groups in Korea.
"I'll pass along the tasty ones."
"Do what you want."
—
She loaded all the luggage into the trunk and slid into the comfy SUV with Hyeon-a. Owning a whole building solo meant parking two or three cars was no big deal—super convenient.
"Heading to that rain ritual in Gangneung?"
"Nah, that's done. Target's a pass on the way there. Apparently doing a ghost-soothing gut."
"Ghosts?"
"Yeah. Locals called in a specialist 'cause accidents keep happening there."
"Feels like I've run into more weird shit since joining this agency than my whole life before."
She'd bailed on studies early to help her brother's work, so she figured she'd seen plenty. Fought cheating bastards plenty, heard they got properly punished too—no more surprises from human drama. That's when shamans and ghosts spiced up her life. Plus, filming meant extra cash. Win-win.
"If it's fun, we should drum up more gigs like this."
"Eh... People need downtime to rest."
Even for normal folks, seriously chasing shaman or ghost tales had its limits.
The nav chimed they'd entered Gangwon-do, passing the next toll gate right away.
"Which pass is it that's so accident-prone? Some legend?"
"No proper name, so they called in a Seoul shaman. It's high up, visible nationwide—Haldak Pass. But since the road went in, nobody hikes it anymore."
"Not some ghost showing up after someone died in a crash, then?"
"Nope. Old tales like 'young guy wrecked, died too soon, grudge formed'—but do rural spots even have that many young folks these days?"
Considering the youth group leader was a geezer past sixty, any young idiot wandering that pass at night deserved a beating with a ladle. Then crying ghost? Nah, smash 'em.
"Ghosts pop up 'cause you can't touch gods directly."
"Born from belief, gone with belief."
"Something like that. ...Hey, what've you been filming since back there?"
"You, obviously. Your calm, silky voice—viewers keep requesting longer clips of you saying nice things, edited sweet."
"People like the weirdest shit."
Even if her voice was pleasant, it didn't match pro voice actors who'd trained, or Vtubers living off theirs. Voice took after its owner, but comparing to pros was rude.
They grabbed two cool choco lattes in the city, then hit rural stretches—no high-rises like apartments. Past military bases and industrial parks, multi-story villas vanished. Single-lane highway stretched ahead, flanked by corn and rice fields. Monsoon season loomed, clouds thickening—she glanced up.
"Should text the office to shut all windows."
"They'll handle it. Oppa's not the type to rush home anyway."
He loved family more than anyone, yet avoided home like the plague. Once asked why—something about needing personal time in life. Listening to Hyeon-a slyly shade her bro, they rolled into a bustling village edge.
Nothing set in stone yet, but Shaman Grandmother was already leading her disciples up the pass. Every time, she crooned about dying tomorrow or the next—spirit power unflagging, stamina spry. While other elders hunched, she stood ramrod straight. Nostalgic as ever.
"Grandma!"
"Eh?"
The heavy mood she'd built shattered at her voice. She dawdled when called, dragged ass till work ended—annoyed yet no one approached as warmly. Mixed expression.
"Heading up the pass?"
"Yeah. Follow if you want."
"Go ahead. We'll trail."
Village head and residents trailed her gravely. Elders, believers in folk faith. Before ghost debates, a showy gut to purge mental filth. Better to remember the accident spot as cleansed than cursed. No getting lost with that crowd.
"Let's follow."
"Yes, boss."
Hyeon-a pulled her camera—not for upload, just record. Though greed for a behind-the-scenes vid someday simmered. Ride the popularity wave.
Parked at the empty spot by the village hall entrance and got out. True mountain village—ranges like folding screens, views hemmed in but scenic.
"Scouted the area yesterday. Fun story."
"What?"
"Monsoon downpour, a lone fisherman hauls a woman's corpse from that valley stream."
Eyes tracked the ascending group, ears perked to Hyeon-a.
"Pulls it up, but what to do solo? Grabs a shovel, picks what he thinks is prime feng shui, digs."
"Yeah."
"Couldn't dig deep enough for a proper burial—shoved her in sitting up. After, guy's luck turns, makes bank."
"Reminds me—old tale of a shaman checking a sloppy burial. Says leave it; janggu drum up front needs a sitter to play right, not a liar."
Glancing at the peak post-story, it did resemble a janggu.
"That corpse floated down from this pass's stream."
"Hmm..."