The God Hidden in the Forest
Warararang!
The sacred shaman bells tolled, driving back the unclean.
The sordid, the foul, the things that had no right to be. The venomous, the hideous, the wicked.
Warang-warang-warang-warang-warang!
Sweat beaded on Kang Hyeong-seok's forehead as he shook the shaman bells with both hands. His eyes were shut fast, his lips moving busily as he recited the sacred verses.
"Homage to the Emperor General, slayer of defilement—
Homage to General Gapja, slayer of defilement—
Homage to General Gapsul, slayer of defilement—
Homage to General Gapsin, slayer of defilement."
What must it feel like, he wondered — for a Buddha statue to hear a chant like that? To be a Buddha, and yet find itself the target of a purification rite?
Warararang!
The chant finished, Kang Hyeong-seok opened his eyes and looked up at the Buddha statue. Sometime in the night, morning had arrived, and sunlight was spilling through the open door into the temple's interior. And yet he could feel not the slightest trace of anything sacred or divine.
He had to get out of this place. Now.
His instincts howled their warning, and gooseflesh climbed his forearms.
Caw! Craaaw!
At the temple entrance, a crow flapped down noisily to perch, then let out a cry that curdled the blood.
Warang!
Kang Hyeong-seok rang the bell and turned his head toward the crow — and for one instant, something grotesque flickered across his vision, like a trick of the eye.
Ka-hahahahahahah!
A human head with its skin flayed away. Mounted on the crow's body, it was grinning hideously straight at him.
"Urk!"
He shook his head violently, and it was just a crow again. Hyeong-seok rattled the shaman bells with a great clatter, and the bird burst away into the sky.
'The toxic energy is far too strong.'
An evil god.
There was something nearby that could be called nothing else. He felt the baneful aura he had driven out come surging back, and with his molars clenched, he left the temple behind. Then he stopped at a distance and stared back at it. Merely looking made the depths of his eyes throb, and he could smell blood inside his nose.
"Ptui!"
He spat three times in all, then tore his gaze from the temple for good.
'The temple. The cult. The leader. The Buddha statue. The evangelist. The Baekbaek cult.'
It was all a hopeless jumble — so much so that he wondered how anything could have become this tangled.
Step, step. To put even a little more distance between himself and the temple, he headed up the mountain, sucking at his lower lip. No matter where he rested his gaze, countless trees and undergrowth crowded into view.
'If you would hide a tree, hide it in a forest.'
Was it because he was on a mountain that the old saying came to him? Leaning a shoulder against a thick trunk, he chewed at his lips, sunk deep in thought.
That was when it came.
Bzzt.
A text message shot in from Shin Yo-sep.
The message was short — something had to be wrong. Kang Hyeong-seok pressed the call button at once, and almost before the ringtone sounded, the line connected.
"What is it?"
"Damn it. Everything's gone sideways."
An anxious voice. Hyeong-seok's already-churning head felt hotter still; he pressed a hand to his forehead.
"What happened?"
"I made contact with the leader. It was a church, and the man's a pastor. But he knows who I am."
"What?"
"He figured out who I am."
Whether the man was driving or not, a faint engine hum carried beneath Shin Yo-sep's voice. Hyeong-seok listened to the heavy drone for a moment, clicked his tongue softly, and spoke.
"Tell me everything. How far did it go — how much does he know?"
"He found out... that I'm an exorcist priest... and he knows my past, too."
...
"How is this possible? How does some two-bit cult — how could a cult leader possibly—"
"Shin Yo-sep."
As though to soothe him, Kang Hyeong-seok said it evenly, then fished a canned drink out of his bag and cracked it open.
"...What."
"You expected this, didn't you? That this was no ordinary cult."
...
"There's an evil god near where I am. Something grotesque is here. A god."
"A god...?"
"I don't mean one of yours. One of ours."
Kang Hyeong-seok knew the Catholic faith held to a single God, and he chose each word with care as he went on.
"You said he dug into your past, didn't you? Then there's only one answer."
...
"He's a shaman who's received a god."
A faint groan crossed the line — the groan of a man who understood with his head what his heart refused to accept. But accept it he must. If that man was not a mudang, nothing else could explain it.
"It's thrown me, too. He's no hollow-god shaman. He's a shaman who received a god that has no right to exist."
"Haah..."
"Get somewhere with as few people around as you can."
A shaman with a hollow god was a trifling, feeble thing. But a shaman who had received a true god? An evil god, at that? Such a one could wield divine power enough to beguile crowds and spin up an entire false religion out of nothing.
"Where are you right now?"
"Why?"
"Let's meet first. Once we're together, we can at least do something."
Kang Hyeong-seok glanced once in the temple's direction and pressed his mouth shut. A temple and a mountain that ordinary people would never approach by instinct. A dangerous place — and for that very reason, a safe one.
"I'll send you my location. Park the car far off and come the rest of the way on foot."
"Should I pick up some coffee?"
"Ah — no. A vending machine's fine, though."
"Right. Whew—!"
The power of a simple conversation was ever mighty. It was people who did people the greatest harm, and yet it was from people that people drew their comfort. Shin Yo-sep, whose voice had wavered when the call began, had found his calm again.
"Thank you. I couldn't have made it this far without you."
He really did seem all right now. Kang Hyeong-seok smiled faintly, said "Got it," and ended the call.
Silence arrived without warning. In the quiet of the mountain, he looked toward where the temple stood. Then, rolling his tongue around his mouth as he recalled what Yo-sep had told him over the phone—
'A mudang. A god.'
Deep in thought, he whipped his head around toward the village — then looked back at the temple.
"A mudang and a god."
'A cult leader.'
The leader disguised as a pastor was a mudang. Which meant the church was a shrine hall in disguise. A mudang who kept a shrine hall would keep a god-shrine besides. And that god-shrine was the temple.
"No, no. One piece is still missing."
Muttering as though entranced, Kang Hyeong-seok began to close in on the temple. The virulent aura barred his way, but he walked on, ringing the shaman bells with every step. He could feel the god's presence — and yet the god itself was nowhere to be seen.
"If there's a god-shrine, there has to be a god."
The god was hidden. Like a tree hidden deep in a forest, it lay concealed somewhere in this place of temple and Buddha statue. He had to find it. Force the mudang to summon it out into the open. Destroy the object of that man's worship. That alone was the way to erase the cult and its leader once and for all.
Beep-beep-beep!
Kang Hyeong-seok snatched up his phone and dialed Shin Yo-sep straight away.
"Haaahm."
Shin Jeong-ah yawned at length. It was the front yard of Lee Geum-kyeong's shrine hall, and a bush-clover broom hung from her hand.
'Why on earth did she dig these clothes out for me...?'
She stole a glance down at the plain white ritual garb she wore. The outfit had come from Lee Geum-kyeong, and on the long-limbed Jeong-ah it ran a touch short — the sleeves, and the hem of the skirt too, sitting a good hand-span above where they ought to fall.
"Haaah—!"
The very moment she let out a thunderous sigh, wearing the face of a woman who'd have traded anything for a long drag on a cigarette—
"Tsk. A young thing, sighing away like that!"
"Gahk—!"
Startled enough to nearly lose her grip on the broom, Jeong-ah spun toward Lee Geum-kyeong.
"Ah, y-you're here."
"Aigoo. Tsk, tsk, tsk."
Lee Geum-kyeong stopped in front of her with a look of gentle pity and picked up the broom.
"It's hard going, isn't it? I'd wager you've never lived a day in the mountains."
"Haha, well. Yes, ma'am."
Jeong-ah smiled sheepishly, and Lee Geum-kyeong nodded back with a wry smile.
"You were raised soft. It's a rare experience, so don't think too poorly of it."
"Um, please — speak casually with me."
Jeong-ah had already settled into treating Lee Geum-kyeong with ease. She was nothing like the mudang Jeong-ah had seen before — none of the ferocious war paint, no barking people down, no trying to overpower them with sheer presence. And yet her very aura set her apart from ordinary people from the first moment, a grandmother's softness and warmth melted right through it.
"It suits me fine. I speak this way because it's easy for me too."
"You could go even more casual, honestly."
Lee Geum-kyeong chuckled and shook her head.
"I told you, it's fine. Besides — there's something I'd like to ask of you this afternoon. Would that be all right?"
Taking the broom Lee Geum-kyeong held out, Jeong-ah let her lips flutter a moment before opening her mouth with care.
"Um — there's something I want to ask first."
"Mm."
Lee Geum-kyeong nodded, her face saying she knew exactly what was coming, and Jeong-ah grew all the more careful.
"Wh-what exactly are you planning to do tonight?"
Both Cheong-geum and Lee Geum-kyeong had been dropping hints about tonight all day. Jeong-ah — the one person with a real stake in it — was the only one left in the dark, and with every passing hour her unease had only grown.
"What am I doing tonight?"
"Yes!"
"I'd like you to receive a little energy for me."
"I'm sorry?"
Unbidden, a memory rose in Jeong-ah's mind — the time Kang Hyeong-seok had told her, "I'd like to request one possession, please."
"Wh-what — um — what kind of energy?"
"That would be hard to explain."
"Th-then just briefly! Please!"
Jeong-ah, who had no intention of ever again getting tangled up in something she didn't understand, asked desperately, and Lee Geum-kyeong blinked at her own unhurried pace before smiling.
"Are you frightened?"
"Yes!"
"Then refuse. I'll simply go looking for someone else."
"No — you have to at least tell me what this is about!"
"It's to help Hyeong-seok."
"Sorry? Manager Kang?"
As Lee Geum-kyeong nodded, a whole host of emotions gathered and settled into the corners of her eyes. Compassion for Kang Hyeong-seok — and an apology owed to Shin Jeong-ah.
"You do know what that boy does, don't you?"
"Of course I do. The cult..."
"That's right. It concerns a god, so many hands must lend their strength."
"And... how, exactly?"
"What can the likes of us do? Pray, that's all."
When Jeong-ah's eyes grew only more lost, Lee Geum-kyeong patted her on the shoulder.
"So let me tell you plainly, here and now. If a dangerous moment should come, I'd like you to help bear that energy — take some of its weight onto yourself."
Something no human could shoulder alone. She might have to face it. But if someone lent her their strength, who could say? What was too heavy for one, or even for two, might be possible for three.
"So weigh your answer carefully before you give it. Could you do it?"
Jeong-ah's face was a tangle of confusion. She could hardly follow everything Lee Geum-kyeong was saying — and yet she had a rough sense of what was being asked of her.
"It's something like possession, then."
"It is."
"Um — it isn't dangerous, right?"
"I'll be right there beside you."
It struck Jeong-ah, quite suddenly, that Lee Geum-kyeong and Kang Hyeong-seok were strangely alike.
"Aaugh."
"You decide. It's your affair."
Eyes screwed shut, Jeong-ah agonized over it — then nodded.
"Yes. I'll do it."
"It won't be easy."
"It's fine! You said you'd be right there beside me."
"It may be painful."
"Oh, come on, it's fine! I trained in MMA — pain and I are old friends! And besides, it's not like I'd be doing it for a stranger."
Jeong-ah answered with breezy words and a face that said otherwise.
"...Thank you."
Lee Geum-kyeong clasped Jeong-ah's hand tight in both of hers.
That was when it happened.
Vroooom.
A refrigerated box truck, snow-white as a refrigerator, pulled into the front yard. Jeong-ah startled and backed away, while the man who climbed down from the cab bowed his head to Lee Geum-kyeong.
"Hello, Mansin!"
"Ah, there you are. Set it down over there, if you would."
"Yes, ma'am! I see there's a gut on today, hm?"
"Mm."
A pig wrapped in plastic sheeting began to be lowered from the truck bed. Jeong-ah watched the whole operation, blinked, and glanced at Lee Geum-kyeong — who was absorbed entirely in paying for the pig.
'Whoa. This is even more serious than I thought...?'
A strange feeling was creeping over her. Like the time they'd prepared to call out the Great Dokkaebi, back in the dokkaebi affair — something she couldn't put into words had begun to gather, and it gathered fast enough to frighten her.
At that same moment—
Vrooooooom.
A car wound its way along a road that coiled like a serpent. The man gripping the wheel had a heavy jaw and a rugged, solid frame.
'Never thought I'd be coming back to this place.'
He was Shin Yo-sep's aide. The man Shin Yo-sep had planted in the cult's village as an informant — the man who had once fled it, a woman in tow. And now he was driving back to that very village.
Because Shin Yo-sep — fresh off a phone call from Kang Hyeong-seok — had summoned him.