What the Senior Left Behind
Wa-rang.
The shaman bell had rung.
Wa-rang, wa-rang, wa-rang.
The sacred shaman bell, which chimed only when it came face to face with something ominous and dangerous, had sounded all on its own.
Kang Hyeong-seok felt goosebumps climbing up his forearms.
Beneath the window, Hong Gyeong-soo still had his eyes fixed on him, and the bell went on ringing as though to warn him away from that man.
That man is dangerous.
The thought had only just flickered through his head when—
"Fall back!"
Lee Geum-kyeong's shout snapped Kang Hyeong-seok's scattered mind back into focus.
He hurriedly clambered in through the window, while Lee Geum-kyeong plugged her nose with tissue the other shamans had handed her.
Spurt. Plop.
A drop of blood, soaked clean through the tissue, bloomed like a flower on the floor.
Kang Hyeong-seok looked at her with a rigid face and clenched his jaw tight.
Someone flung a death curse.
And that someone...
He was turning his gaze back toward the window when—
Shwaaa!
Lee Geum-kyeong pulled out the rice pouch she had tucked inside the doll's head and scattered the rice across the floor.
"Heaven and earth were wrought by the spirit that does no evil—yet born without virtue, one stands guilty in death; and dying without virtue, one finds only severance in life."
Daaaang— dum-dum-dum-dum.
"Only when life and death alike are steeped in virtue may one take joy in Heaven. The spirits of resentment and the spirits of evil are transformed by the Great Way—soothe the resentful, and dissolve the wicked."
The scripture flowing from Lee Geum-kyeong's lips was the Hwangcheon-gyeong—the Scripture of the Yellow Springs. It was a chant for stilling the stirring of wicked things and casting out whatever had already begun to grow restless. Even drawn from the same scripture, what Lee Geum-kyeong offered felt entirely different from anything Kang Hyeong-seok could produce—the difference was there from the very first syllable.
Dang— dang— dum-dum-dum.
It had nothing to do with whether the traditional instruments were playing. The gap in depth carried within the words themselves was simply too vast.
Dang— dangaaang— dum-dum-dum-dum.
"If clarity is not kept, the Yellow Springs seethe with torment; the Dragon-Flower Paradise holds the flower of first vows—reborn through water alone, here in this world."
When the scripture ended, the instruments fell silent as one. At the same moment, the sinister energy that had flown into the inner room collapsed into nothing, and no trace of it could be felt at all.
"Teacher."
"You felt it too, then."
"Yes."
Lee Geum-kyeong, her nosebleed finally staunched, peeled the tissue away and pressed her wrinkled lips together with terrifying firmness.
This was an intrusion upon the ssitgimgut, the soul-washing—a rite meant to clear her friend's road into what lay beyond. And with her ritual obstructed, Lee Geum-kyeong wore a gaze so fierce that even Kang Hyeong-seok found it hard to hold.
"Teacher, the curse—"
Lee Geum-kyeong shook her head hard, her molars clenching tight before they loosened.
"I am already tracing it. It was flung from far away."
What kept Kang Hyeong-seok from simply accepting that was Hong Gyeong-soo, still standing right there outside the window.
His Momjusin had warned him about that man through the shaman bell.
Thud. Thud.
Lee Geum-kyeong walked to the window, drew the curtains shut, and pressed her palms together twice.
Then, after pinning Kang Hyeong-seok with a look that forbade a single word, she addressed her friend's son.
"I'm sorry, but we'll have to put the ritual off until tomorrow."
"Yes— wait, what?"
The son answered with a dazed face, and Lee Geum-kyeong shook her head.
"Something has intruded. As things stand, the washing cannot go on."
"Is it serious...?"
"That is not yours to worry over."
Flustered, the son turned back to the shamans with eyes full of dread. He couldn't follow the details, but the shamans' faces—above all the men's—were grim enough to tell him that whatever had happened, it had happened badly.
The male shaman who had been playing the instruments shot up from his seat as if kicked off the floor and marched straight for the entryway.
"H-hey! What's going on?"
"Hong Gyeong-soo! If it's not that bastard, who else could it be!"
"But— but the Teacher is right here!"
"Which is exactly what makes it worse!"
As the mood soured by the second, the other shamans began to follow in his wake, and Lee Geum-kyeong passed her gaze to Kang Hyeong-seok.
Best to go along for now.
When Kang Hyeong-seok said as much with his eyes, Lee Geum-kyeong gave a heavy nod and headed out of the building.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The shaman who had gone out first was striding toward Hong Gyeong-soo in long, furious steps. The others trailed after him like shadows, trying to hold him back, while Hong Gyeong-soo simply stood watching, a cigarette burning between his fingers.
That only stoked the shaman's fury.
In a flash, the man had Hong Gyeong-soo by the collar, glaring with veins standing out on his neck.
"You fucking bastard! You're the one who flung that curse!"
"What in the world are you on about all of a sudden?"
"Playing innocent, are you, you little—! The heavens see it, the earth knows it, and the gods are watching! You punk!"
Hong Gyeong-soo looked at him as if the man were suffocating him, then took hold of his wrist and bent it outward.
Crack!
"Urk!"
The shaman groaned, cradling his wrenched wrist, while the others wedged themselves between the two men.
"What is the meaning of this! Huh?!"
"Let go of me. Let go! Since when do brothers of the trade lay hands on each other like this?"
Shoved back, Hong Gyeong-soo rubbed at his seized throat and twisted his lips.
"Let's keep some manners between us, hm? We're not gangsters here—what is all this, ganging up on a man like common thugs?"
"Shaman Hong!"
"Tch, enough of this damn yapping—let's hear some explanations, shall we?"
As Hong Gyeong-soo came on hard, the faces of the other shamans stiffened or warped.
And it was right at that moment.
"Come out here, all of you."
Lee Geum-kyeong spoke, arriving with Kang Hyeong-seok at her side. The other shamans, reading her face, drew back to either side, and she came to a stop before Hong Gyeong-soo. Then she gave the back of Kang Hyeong-seok's hand a light tap with her finger.
Most likely it meant: stay at her side, and keep a careful watch.
"A death curse came flying in the middle of the ritual."
Hong Gyeong-soo bowed once at the waist toward Lee Geum-kyeong, then opened his mouth with a composed face.
"It wasn't me, Teacher."
"I know. It was not a curse flung by your hand."
Lee Geum-kyeong looked straight into Hong Gyeong-soo's expressionless eyes as she spoke.
"But you are tied to it all the same."
Kang Hyeong-seok understood why Lee Geum-kyeong had signaled him. Black robes or not, Hong Gyeong-soo was still a shaman—one who served the gods and feared them. And a great god walked with Kang Hyeong-seok. Merely standing beside Lee Geum-kyeong was pressure enough.
Sure enough, Hong Gyeong-soo stole a glance at him right before he opened his mouth.
"Your Momjusin said that, did he? That I'm involved?"
"Don't play ignorant with me."
At the weight in her voice, Hong Gyeong-soo roughly scrubbed his tightly sealed lips with the back of his hand. Then he let out a single sigh and spoke.
"It's a long story, Teacher. Just let it pass, would you."
"Speak."
Lee Geum-kyeong left no room for bargaining—and only then did Hong Gyeong-soo's brows bend. He clicked his tongue without a sound, thin creases forming between his eyebrows.
"Teacher, I know I ply my trade in black robes, but even so, to treat me like this—"
"Speak."
Hong Gyeong-soo shut his mouth, then gave a heavy nod.
"Yes. It's true. I'm involved."
Wa-rang.
At that moment, the shaman bell tucked inside Kang Hyeong-seok's coat rang once. Startled, he shot a look down at it—but nobody else seemed to have heard a thing. His Momjusin was speaking to him directly through the bell, telling him that what Hong Gyeong-soo said was true.
"What have you done? And why did you come here in the first place?"
At Lee Geum-kyeong's heavy voice, Hong Gyeong-soo lifted his chin and gazed up at the building where the ssitgimgut had been held.
"I came to do a washing of my own, in my own way."
"What was that?"
"I came to settle the karma a senior I respected left lying uncleaned, on the road of their passing."
So Hong Gyeong-soo had named his purpose.
But this time, the shaman bell did not ring.
Kang Hyeong-seok looked at him with a face gone stiff, and Hong Gyeong-soo turned his gaze to Kang in turn. The next instant, Lee Geum-kyeong's words stole that gaze away again.
"Speak plainly. What karma is it you mean?"
"That curse that came flying—it wasn't flung by me. It was something the senior had been sitting on."
Hong Gyeong-soo raised his voice toward the other shamans.
"Hey! You're brothers of the trade too—quit hiding behind each other's eyes and say something! You'd know better than anyone whether a curse like that was flung by a living hand or not!"
"Why you son of a—!"
With a jerk, the shaman whose wrist had been wrenched started forward, scowling—until another shaman caught his arm.
All the while, Kang Hyeong-seok was conscious of the bell in his breast.
Ting.
It had rung again, telling him that Hong Gyeong-soo's words held true.
"Hyeong-seok. How did it look to you?"
The first to sense the curse the instant it arrived had been Kang Hyeong-seok. And now, to the man who had even climbed out the window to search for its source, Lee Geum-kyeong's question came flying.
"From what I could see, it was not flung from anywhere nearby."
"It looked the same to me."
Lee Geum-kyeong turned back to Hong Gyeong-soo and thinned her eyes.
"My friend was never one who could fling a death curse. What business could a person like that have with such a thing?"
Hong Gyeong-soo dropped his head and smirked, tugging at one corner of his mouth. Then he even laughed—low, and out loud.
"So you didn't know either, Teacher. You, of all people. Truth be told, the senior was no great shaman, let's be honest."
"This punk just keeps running his mouth!"
The shaman with the held arm bellowed from behind, but Lee Geum-kyeong raised a hand and shut his mouth for him.
"...What is it you're trying to say."
"The senior truly was a fine shaman. But that doesn't mean everything was resolved. There was something that could not be brought to an end—and I gave my help with it."
Ting.
"That curse that came flying—you know the one. Not mine. It's what the senior kept putting off—'I'll deal with it someday, I'll settle it someday'—hoarding it away all this time. Those foul scraps went whipping out all at once, just like that."
Ting.
"And isn't that my specialty? Gathering up the dangerous things. That's why I lent the senior a hand, way back when."
Ting.
Kang Hyeong-seok lent his ear to the bell chiming again and again. Everything Hong Gyeong-soo had said so far was the truth.
Then—was he a man who could be trusted?
...
The shaman bell did not ring.
Kang Hyeong-seok rolled his tongue slowly inside his mouth and shifted his gaze to Hong Gyeong-soo.
"Where is this 'there,' exactly?"
"Huh?"
Hong Gyeong-soo lifted one corner of his mouth as he looked at him.
"That's not something a brother of the trade needs to trouble himself over."
"This concerns the Teacher's friend. What concerns the Teacher concerns me as well."
The flesh beneath Hong Gyeong-soo's eye twitched—as if he had never once imagined this kind of reaction.
Quietly, Lee Geum-kyeong signaled Kang Hyeong-seok to hold his peace, then turned to Hong Gyeong-soo.
"Let us say that everything you say is true."
"That it is. Not one hair of a lie in it."
"Then we go together."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You came to do a washing anyway, did you not? There is no reason it cannot be done."
Hong Gyeong-soo stared at her without a word. Lee Geum-kyeong, lips sealed, met his gaze in kind. A long silence stretched between them—until Hong Gyeong-soo broke it first, with a laugh.
"Fine, have it your way. Teacher, at your age, no less."
"There is something behind all this, isn't there."
The smile at the corners of Hong Gyeong-soo's mouth nearly gave way.
"You give my good intentions far too little credit, Teacher. You've been doubting me this whole time."
That was when—
Tong! Tong!
From far off came the sound of someone hammering on sheet metal. Kang Hyeong-seok looked that way and saw the man who had come with Hong Gyeong-soo sitting inside the car, pointing up at the sky.
"Hyung-nim, we're out of time. Let's move—quickly."
"Hey! Can't you see I'm talking with the Teacher here! You disrespectful little shit!"
"Once the sun goes down, it gets hard on you, Hyung-nim!"
"Aigoo, shit!"
Hong Gyeong-soo turned his gaze back to Lee Geum-kyeong and spoke in a mild voice.
"I'll handle this one alone. I'll call you when it's done."
"Shaman Hong."
"May good things come your way."
Hong Gyeong-soo bowed deep at the waist, then started toward the car. All the while, Kang Hyeong-seok kept his eyes fixed steadily on that retreating back.
He couldn't have said why. Hong Gyeong-soo never once looked back—and yet it felt as though an eye had been set into the back of that head, as though the man were still staring straight at him.
Ting.
As if to confirm the thought, the bell in his breast gave one short ring.