The One Who Wears Black Robes
All Kang Hyeong-seok had done was mention that he wanted to put in for a long-term business trip.
Clunk.
That was all. Yet Kwak Young-ho, wearing the grave expression of a commander seeing a soldier off to the front lines, settled a hand on his shoulder — a hand heavy as a hammer.
"You should go. Mm. You really should go."
"No, sir, that's not—"
"Go. You're going, no two ways about it."
There wasn't a shred of doubt in the man's eyes.
"I know how well you've been performing, Manager Kang. The only reason I'm letting you go is because I'm certain you'll bring results back again."
"Nothing's been confirmed yet, sir. I'm simply going on a referral."
"A referral? From who?"
The mood had grown so heavy with expectation that Kang Hyeong-seok thought for a moment before answering.
"A shaman — Ms. Lee Geum-kyeong. Do you happen to remember her from that dinner we had with the executives?"
"Ah!"
He still clearly remembered how the executive director had jerked upright in alarm the instant the name Lee Geum-kyeong had been mentioned. Thanks to that, Kwak Young-ho recalled her at once and nodded his head vigorously.
"I remember, I remember. She's the one who referred you? What kind of place is it?"
Only now did the conversation seem to be flowing along normal tracks.
"It's a well-known free-range native chicken farm called Samgol."
"Whoa! Samgol?"
Half expectation, half apprehension mingled in Kwak Young-ho's eyes.
"But doesn't that place already have owners? I hear they're ramping up production next year."
"I heard they're launching a new Ogol chicken operation as well — the prized all-black Korean breed."
At that, the hand clamped on Kang Hyeong-seok's shoulder tightened.
"Then you must go. How long would it take? Three days? A week?"
"Th-that, I couldn't say yet."
"Then I won't set a deadline — take your time and go easy. Oh, should I attach someone to you? Want to take Manager Shin along?"
"No, sir. I'll go alone."
Nothing was settled yet, after all. If two managers moved on this on a whim and came back empty-handed, they'd never live down the embarrassment.
"Phew! Manager Kang, I only say this in case you're feeling pressured, but even if all you bring back is a single flyer picked up off the street, I'll be satisfied."
Kwak Young-ho finally released his shoulder, a warm smile settling onto his face.
"So don't carry an ounce of pressure out there. We've got plenty of results coming in from Sinjin Construction anyway. Understood?"
It was the kind of remark that seemed to pile on more pressure at first glance, and then didn't. But his eyes were sincere, so Kang Hyeong-seok answered with a smile.
"Understood, sir."
"I'm telling you this is nothing worth stressing over. Now off you go — and come straight back!"
Kwak Young-ho gave his back a hearty thump.
And just as Kang Hyeong-seok was about to step out of the office—
Clatter.
Lee Jin-pyeong pushed himself up from his chair on crutches and bowed his head deeply.
"Safe travels, Manager Kang."
Kang Hyeong-seok's gaze turned toward him, and Kwak Young-ho clapped his hands together as though a fine idea had just struck him.
"That's right. Hey, Manager Kang — once you're back, let's all get together for a team dinner to celebrate Assistant Manager Lee's discharge from the hospital."
Looking at Lee Jin-pyeong's placid face, Kang Hyeong-seok nodded back with a smile.
"Yes, sir. I will."
"Safe travels! Take it easy out there! Got it?"
"Yes, sir!"
And with a lighter heart, Kang Hyeong-seok left the office.
Vrooooom!
Kang Hyeong-seok drove straight to Lee Geum-kyeong's shrine house after leaving the office. She was already fully prepared — the trunk packed to bursting with ritual implements — and once he had seated her in the passenger seat and received Cheong-geum's send-off, they pulled away.
"Are we headed to a hospital?"
"No. This place here will do."
Kang Hyeong-seok punched the address Lee Geum-kyeong had shown him on her phone into the navigation and set off at once.
'Well, that's a surprise.'
He had honestly assumed it would be a hospital — she had said this was a friend who was not long for this world.
Yet the destination he had glimpsed on the navigation screen was unmistakably an ordinary residential neighborhood.
"You'll see when we get there."
From the passenger seat, Lee Geum-kyeong spoke as though she had already read his mind, then rested her head against the headrest.
"There'll be any number of shamans there, but pay them no more mind than you must."
"Understood."
"How much farther is it now?"
Kang Hyeong-seok checked the time remaining on the navigation.
"About an hour and ten minutes, I'd say."
"Not long at all, then."
Whether from fatigue or not, Lee Geum-kyeong drew one deep breath and closed her eyes — and soon enough, her breathing softened into deep sleep.
Which left him free to devote himself wholly to the road.
The car-only expressway, exits curving like snail shells. Flat plains spreading wide under low buildings. Rice paddies and tilled fields. And air that stung the nose with the reek of livestock sheds — the place the navigation was leading him to lay plainly far removed from any city.
Rumble.
One nice thing about places like this: parking was never a problem. There were no painted lines, but he pulled into what passed for a spot, and the eyes Lee Geum-kyeong had kept closed slid open.
"Have we arrived?"
"Yes."
"Aigoo, my back."
Lee Geum-kyeong climbed out of the passenger seat and pounded at her lower back. Then, just as Kang Hyeong-seok moved to unload the trunk, a man at some distance suddenly flung down the cigarette he had been smoking.
"Aigoo, Elder!"
The man's voice was so thunderous that a nameless bird went bursting up out of the nearest field in a frantic flutter.
Stomp, stomp!
A black t-shirt beneath a casual brown suit — long hair cinched tight at the nape. The man, who looked to be in his early forties, marched straight up to Lee Geum-kyeong and swept her into a crushing bear hug.
"What on earth brings you out this way? If I'd known you were coming, I'd have come to fetch you in my own car."
"Enough. I'm fine."
Even with Lee Geum-kyeong peeling him off, her face set in displeasure, the man went right on beaming.
"Our teacher's temper is as fierce as ever, I see. And who might this be?"
With that glib, silver-tongued drawl, the man turned his gaze on Kang Hyeong-seok.
Kang Hyeong-seok was opening his mouth to offer a greeting when Lee Geum-kyeong cut in and answered for him.
"He is as a spirit-child to me."
"A spirit-child, you say?"
The man's expression turned strange for an instant. The smile drained from his face; the warmth drained from his eyes. In their place came a naked curiosity, as though he had stumbled upon something quite unexpected.
"That's right. So see that you mind your manners."
"I must've been skipping my prayers lately — my spirit-sense has gone and fallen right off. Forgive me for not recognizing you."
The man smiled as if tugging at the corners of his own mouth and extended a hand.
"The name's Hong Gyeong-soo."
Kang Hyeong-seok met Hong Gyeong-soo's eyes. He had always trusted his eye for people.
"A pleasure to meet you. I'm Kang Hyeong-seok."
The moment the handshake ended, he went straight to the point.
"Might you have lived abroad?"
Hong Gyeong-soo's accent carried a thick blend of unplaceable regional drawls — rather like a foreigner who had learned Korean, or like the dialects of all eight provinces tangled into one.
"Huh? Ah, right — I lived overseas for quite a long stretch. That's all this is."
"I see. A pleasure."
It was just after Kang Hyeong-seok ended the brief handshake that a voice rang out from afar.
"Boss! Over here a moment!"
The door of a van parked off in the distance burst open, and a man poked his head out.
"What is it now?!"
"I can't find the ritual gear! Come and help me look!"
"Aigoo, you worthless bastard. How many times have I told you to keep track of it."
Hong Gyeong-soo gave a small bow to Lee Geum-kyeong, who was lighting a cigarette, then strode straight off toward the van, bellowing, "Look through the trunk properly!" — his voice jaw-droppingly loud.
It was then that Lee Geum-kyeong spoke in a low voice, tilting her chin toward Hong Gyeong-soo.
"Keep your distance from that man."
"Is there a reason?"
"He is one who wears the black ritual robes."
"Ah..."
Kang Hyeong-seok frowned as he watched Hong Gyeong-soo hunt through the trunk with a cigarette clamped between his lips. So that was what had felt off. Beneath all that warm, neighborly manner, something had been hidden.
"This is my first time seeing one. Black ritual robes, I mean."
"You'll cross paths with them often enough as you live. Keep your distance."
Lee Geum-kyeong turned her eyes away as though she had looked upon something unclean and spat three times.
Black ritual robes. Ritual robes naturally shift in their color combinations from region to region, but black ones are rare indeed. And for good reason — they are the robes of those who handle the impure: death curses, hexes, and sorcery.
'Strange, though. For a man in that trade, nothing fierce hung about his body.'
Kang Hyeong-seok watched Hong Gyeong-soo a moment longer, then turned his head away — because he had seen the man's eyes swing back toward him, as if he had felt the gaze.
Vrrrooom!
Right on cue, other cars began to arrive.
"Teacher!"
Ten people in all climbed out of the vehicles — seven women and three men, every one of them a different age, yet all bearing the unmistakable air of shamans whose cultivation ran deep.
"Have you all been keeping well?"
"We're always the same as ever, Teacher. And you — I trust you're in good health?"
"Me? Ah. Same as ever."
"Aigoo, our Teacher has only grown more radiant!"
Watching them trade warm banter with Lee Geum-kyeong, Kang Hyeong-seok marveled inwardly. True shamans were a genuinely rare breed. And here so many of them had gathered in one place that the air itself was thick with their peculiar energy, as though he had stepped across the threshold of a shrine hall.
'So this is how the Momjusin can show themselves.'
These were no ordinary civilians — they were shamans. Vessels who had each received a Momjusin, a patron deity dwelling within them. And so there were as many Momjusin present as there were people: fairy maidens, generals, divine children — or else something whose very nature defied all guessing.
He was just beginning to take interest in their powerful presences when—
"I believe that young man there is the one."
A man some five years younger than Lee Geum-kyeong said it while looking at Kang Hyeong-seok, and the other shamans' gazes converged on him all at once.
"Ah! You're right. It's the General."
The eyes of a middle-aged woman with a long braid went wide. The timid woman who bore a child spirit shrank back behind the others, while those who served general spirits of their own fixed Kang Hyeong-seok with stares of wariness, or of open awe.
"Go and greet them. Hyeong-seok, come here."
As Kang Hyeong-seok made his way over, the shamans parted to either side and cleared a path. And when he came to stand at her side, Lee Geum-kyeong laid a hand on his back and swept her gaze across them all.
"This is the child I have spoken of to you since long ago."
"Ahh. So it was true."
"You've received a fine god. A very fine one indeed."
Just as Kang Hyeong-seok had sensed the shamans' Momjusin, so too could they feel his. This was no ordinary general deity. It was a great god — the kind that drew gasps of admiration and bows of reverence from all who beheld it. That was Kang Hyeong-seok's Momjusin.
"Have you set up a shrine hall of your own? I know of some fine ground."
"Where do you hold your prayers?"
"And by what honored name does your Momjusin go?"
Despite being younger than every one of them, Kang Hyeong-seok was addressed with the fullest formality as the questions came.
"If everyone's here, we ought to be going."
Had Lee Geum-kyeong not stepped in, the shamans might well have kept asking questions until the sun went down. With lingering reluctance, they fell in behind her — though a few of them murmured to Kang Hyeong-seok in low voices as they went.
"Let's have a private word later."
Kang Hyeong-seok offered the appropriate noncommittal nods and followed Lee Geum-kyeong up the stairs.
Thud, thud.
Perhaps it was the purpose that had brought them here, but with every step, the shamans' expressions grew heavier. A shaman with only days left to live. This gathering existed to pave his road.
Ding-dong.
The moment Lee Geum-kyeong pressed the doorbell, the door swung open before long.