Jeju Island Vacation 3
Humans show a duplicitous side, worshiping gods far superior to themselves while trying to manipulate them to their own will. They don't believe in gods until personal hardships strike, then blame them without fail. Shamans, who fear gods more than anyone, are no different—they try to use them for convenience. To prevent this, they created divine punishments for internal discipline.
"Grandpa!"
"You mustn't touch him!"
Before he could even reach out, people from outside rushed in, grabbing him and forcibly pulling him back to protect their shrine leader. For a Shinto priest affiliated with the Onmyoji, the most important thing was the legitimate successor, so this breach of etiquette was unavoidable. It would have been stranger if he'd stayed sane after witnessing an unnatural death right before his eyes.
"It's dangerous. You need to get out of the room now."
"Uh... yeah..."
To her, it was like a whirlwind sucking her up—no time to gather her wits before she was shoved outside. Even after, they left her like that for a while, unsure if it might be some curse. Only after prayers and talismans could he lift his face: the eyes were gone from where they should have been, his ears clogged with bloody pus, making it hard to call it a human face anymore. It looked like a corpse buried in the ground for a week after death, then dug up, exhumed, and hastily cleaned.
"What kind of curse is this powerful...?"
"Hmm..."
There were curse proxy services that cast spells on behalf of others, but this world was more like an Indian rain dance—superstition at best. Even Onmyoji and shrine priests treated potent curses and sorcery as relics from ancient texts. Yet here one was, straight out of those pages. The scariest part of such curses was that you couldn't pinpoint who cast them.
"Tsk, to reduce someone who never even showed his face outside to this pitiful state."
"Let's clean up first. We'll have to hold the funeral."
The shrine's elders gathered for a brief talk, but no clear solution emerged. Since it was the leader's room, they planned to purify it thoroughly and perform an exorcism rite. Curses rarely just killed one person and vanished. Typically, they lingered, attaching to others until their power waned, wreaking havoc.
As the crowd thinned, only the two senior elders remained, exchanging glances.
"What about the projects he was handling?"
"We stop everything and assess the situation. There are more than a few secrets only he knew."
"Hmm... If those surface, it'll be exhausting. Tsk tsk."
He was the one who'd always boasted confidence while handling all the dirty work alone. The shrine's current direction was to stop such things, so the elders hadn't fully approved, but they hadn't meant for him to go out so meaninglessly either. With so much to sort through, their aged brains throbbed.
"Let's handle it one piece at a time."
Even as they spoke, neither knew where to start—they squeezed their eyes shut and scratched their heads.
"All operations halted immediately. Return as soon as possible."
The contact person relayed the message from the ownerless official email account to those in the field. The workers, who had been carving away at rocks, stopped without a word. As if their actions had no ego behind them, they packed up tools, covered their spots, and loaded into the dump trucks. Piling into the rickety vans at each site, they raced along the deserted coastal road at night.
As they gazed blankly at the vast night sea, the drivers saw something entirely different. On the sparsely lit road, a person suddenly popped out.
They could have run him over, but causing trouble in this CCTV republic would backfire on them.
"Fuck!"
"What the—?!"
Wrenching the wheel forcibly, they caught sight of an elderly man with a startled expression. He clutched a black plastic bag seemingly full of food. Instinctively slamming the brakes, but they did nothing—like braking on black ice.
"You idiot! The brakes...!"
Before the words finished, the truck accelerated wildly, veering off the road. It plummeted toward the rocky shore, crashing with a thunderous boom that shook the heavens. Like divine retribution—or the thunderclap before it. At the scene of what seemed an ordinary rollover, the old man with the black bag stood silently watching.
"Tsk tsk, go eat this and head to a nice place."
Pulling out baekseolgi rice cakes from the bag, he tossed them toward the sea where they'd fallen, then vanished. Of the three trucks departing at that hour, two flipped like this; the last one finally hit the old man and fled.
—
Returning with breakfast-slash-lunch, she finally saw her family stirring and wriggling awake. Her little sister, who'd crashed first after playing all day, was already up and done brushing her teeth. But her parents lay in bed together, showing no sign of rising.
"Mom, Dad, get up and eat. I brought food."
"Ugh... Just a bit longer."
Dad just rolled over without answering, while Mom clung to him, whining in a way she never did. Who was the kid here?
"We'll eat first then."
"Yeah, play with your sister as much as you can. No work talk till the end."
"Got it."
They really had no intention of moving, just waving her out to keep quiet. They had stressful jobs and worked hard, so she closed the door. Her sister, energy fully recharged, looked up with sparkling eyes.
"Where's Mom?"
"Sleeping more. Just us for food."
"Okay, sis."
Since moving out, they rarely saw each other, so her sister's clinginess had ramped up. Scooping her up, Seo-ah headed to the table. They each took a bite of the nutritious toast. So sweet.
"Sis, where to today?"
"Dunno. Anywhere you wanna go? I'll take you right away."
"Hmm... I wanna ride a horse!"
"A horse?"
She dreaded driving up a mountainside ranch, but for her sister's request... Reservations were tough on the spot, but a little pull couldn't hurt. Surely some rich hobbyist rider among the elite. It wasn't far anyway.
"Finish this and get ready."
"Yay!"
True to her pre-elementary kindergarten age, she fixated on experiences other kids hadn't tried. The aquarium visit was probably because everyone else went. Kids had their own vibes, so Seo-ah cut her slack. By the time they polished off two sandwiches with fresh citrus dressing, her sister bounced out, ready to go.
Strapping in the tiny, cute critter, they arrived at the ranch midway up the mountain with panoramic views.
"Wow, sis, look at that! So cool!"
"Yeah."
A rehab spot for racehorses post-retirement, it had more pros than civilians. Most areas had "staff only" signs; open spots were just for feeding treats. But connections got them in smooth.
"These horses have intelligence from kindergarten to elementary school level. Meaning they know their purpose."
"Yes."
"Lifelong racers get bored in quiet spots like this. Some sink into depression when they feel unneeded."
He'd lend one, but begged not to let it get too excited and bolt. Riders spook and fall off sometimes when the horse perks up after a few laps. They usually avoided guest rides on racers, but today...
"Little miss, grip this tight and don't let go."
"Yes, sir!"
Snapping a pic of her sister tense in front of the man, clutching the reins. Memories were all that lasted. As her horse ambled slowly, Seo-ah patted another's neck, syncing speeds. It snorted happily, sticking close for a big loop. No rivalry between them.
"More rides?"
"Yeah, a few more laps."
Seo-ah did two or three then dismounted; Jina, loving the speed, wanted extras. Snapping her with the scenery, a young woman sat beside her.
"Hello?"
"Hi."
In staff uniform, the woman smiled at Seo-ah.
"Thanks for escorting our grandma and granting her request. Here..."
"Pardon?"
She pulled a business card from her pocket, placed it down, and walked back to the building. Seo-ah glanced between it and her retreating figure, then kept photographing her sister.