Blood on the General's Blade
Ding-a-ling—!
Shin Jeong-ah shouldered her way through the cafe door looking for all the world like a corpse.
Ugh, I'm dying.
It was the day after a company dinner. Saturday morning, the clock reading 9:50 — and the cafe was packed.
She flopped down into a seat.
"So why'd you call me out?"
"Whoof, you reek of booze. Yah, turn your head when you breathe."
The woman with the fierce glare was Lee Ha-yoon, Shin Jeong-ah's high school friend.
Shin Jeong-ah, cradling a head that felt ready to crack open from the hangover, suddenly leaned in and blew her breath straight into her friend's face.
"Ack! It reeks!"
Lee Ha-yoon flapped her hands in horror, while Shin Jeong-ah only groaned. "Aigoo, I'm dying."
"Company dinner yesterday? Your liver's shot. Totally shot."
"What, you think I'm you? Like I'd drink myself into this state all alone."
"Go easy on the bottle. Keep this up and you'll get cirrhosis."
"Talking back all sweet like that — must be tired of living."
It was vicious banter. A few people nearby did glance over, but neither of them paid the onlookers the slightest mind.
That was simply the kind of friendship they had.
With a clatter of the chair, Shin Jeong-ah hauled herself up, groaning, and Lee Ha-yoon — her face a portrait of pity — fished a card out of her wallet and tossed it onto the table.
"What's this?"
"Unnie's buying. Order anything expensive and you're dead."
"Sankyu~"
Shin Jeong-ah scooped up the card and returned from the counter with a single shot of espresso.
"I tell you to buy a coffee and you come back with something the size of a soy-sauce dish. Where are the dumplings? Those would've been perfect for dipping."
"Shut up, you rascal."
Setting down the tiny cup of black coffee concentrate, Shin Jeong-ah tore open a paper packet of sugar — then dumped in two whole packets and swirled the cup briskly, while Lee Ha-yoon watched with an expression of pure disgust.
"You're unbelievable. Honestly."
Shin Jeong-ah ignored her completely and took a sip of the sugar-laced coffee.
"Khhhaaah. That's the stuff."
"All better?"
Shin Jeong-ah gave her head a vigorous shake. "Whoof. The booze is finally wearing off."
"You've been drinking that after every bender since the old days. Does it actually cure a hangover?"
"Try it. This is the sure cure. The sure cure."
"Well, I've already found a place, so I won't be needing Zigbang anytime soon. How's office life treating you?"
"What's to tell? One company's the same as any other."
"No, no. I mean this. This."
Lee Ha-yoon waggled nothing but her raised little finger, and Shin Jeong-ah answered with a sour smile.
"When are you going to grow up?"
"Someone's got it easy. Seeing anybody these days?"
"You think I go to work to meet men? I'm doing just fine, you rascal."
"That temper of yours, honestly. Then again, who in their right mind would take you on?"
Lee Ha-yoon recalled the Shin Jeong-ah of their college days and shuddered in exaggerated disgust.
Popular? Oh, she had been popular. It was just that her fierce streak meant none of the boyfriends she picked up that way ever lasted long.
"Oh, you know — that senior who used to chase you around, all 'I like you so much.'"
"Hm?"
"I hear he still can't eat meat to this day. Should've laid off the beating a little, don't you think?"
"Ugh! Why are you even mentioning that stalker bastard? Gives me the creeps."
Lee Ha-yoon smirked. Shin Jeong-ah nursed her coffee like it was the elixir of life, then narrowed her eyes.
"Anyway. Seriously — why'd you call me out?"
"Took you long enough to ask."
"Ugh, why did you call me?"
Lee Ha-yoon retrieved her card, tucked it back into her wallet, and drew out a business card.
"This unnie finally got herself an office."
"Oh? For real?"
"I'm a CEO now, so you'll be calling me Madam CEO."
"Wow. Truly. Congratulations."
Shin Jeong-ah reacted as if reading from a textbook, then took the card and read it.
"Law Firm Lee Yoon. Yah, what's with 'divorce specialist'? You've never even been married."
"Being unmarried is exactly what makes me trustworthy. No?"
Is that really how it works?
Rolling her eyes at the thought, Shin Jeong-ah handed the card back with a look that plainly said she didn't buy it.
"Keep it."
"Divorce, my ass. You've never married — where am I supposed to use it? And your number's been saved in my phone for a good five hundred years."
"Keep it anyway. It's one hell of a keepsake."
"Fine, fine. Want me to send over a congratulatory wreath?"
"Oh, that won't be necessary, thank you kindly. I've received plenty already."
Lee Ha-yoon stuck out her tongue playfully and slid the card back into her wallet, and Shin Jeong-ah couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.
"Sheesh, you little rascal. Would you look at you — all grown up."
Back in high school, Lee Ha-yoon had been a half-wild hellion. Who could ever have imagined she would end up a lawyer?
"By the way, isn't this spot a prime location? It must have cost a fortune — and you still signed the lease."
"Ah, that?"
Lee Ha-yoon flashed a grin — one that struck some deep, instinctive chord of dread.
"It came cheap, so I pounced. Drew my loans right up to the limit and did the whole interior besides."
"Ooh... exactly how cheap are we talking?"
Lee Ha-yoon spread all five fingers wide.
It was no small figure. And yet something about it felt cheap to the point of absurdity.
"You're kidding. That's way too cheap."
"Yep. Word is the place is haunted."
"...What."
Shin Jeong-ah's face froze in horror, while Lee Ha-yoon just beamed, bright and guileless.
"Ghosts don't exist in this world. And if one ever did show up, I'd want it to be a pretty boy who looks like an idol."
"...Wow."
Lee Ha-yoon cackled, then laughed even harder when she saw Shin Jeong-ah's expression.
"Look at that face. Yah, I'm telling you, there's no such thing as ghosts."
"...Yeah. Sure. Right."
"See that? I think she genuinely believes in them. You still go running to a mudang's shrine these days?"
"Never mind that. So, uh — where do you sleep?"
She asked just in case. She hoped for any answer but the one she expected, and yet what came spilling out of Lee Ha-yoon's mouth was exactly that.
"In the office, of course. I pulled every won I had — and didn't have — out of the bank, so I've got to pinch every penny."
Her head throbbed as if it would split open; Shin Jeong-ah pressed a hand to her forehead.
"Hey, is that hangover really that bad?"
"It's not the hangover. It's you. You absolute lunatic."
Shin Jeong-ah looked at her with a what am I going to do with you face. These days, after a few outings with Kang Hyeong-seok, she could no longer deny that ghosts existed.
"You're going to drive me out of my mind. Honestly."
"Why-yy?"
"See, that right there is the problem. Aigoo."
Shin Jeong-ah narrowed her eyes at the last dregs of her espresso. Then, out of nowhere, an old memory came back to her — the time a ghost-summoning talisman had been stuck up in the office bathroom.
Back then, had Kang Hyeong-seok's heart been rotting away inside his chest, just as hers was now?
"...Ha." I should buy him a cup of coffee sometime.
Thinking so, Shin Jeong-ah rubbed her forehead and spoke with a serious look on her face.
"You don't believe in ghosts, do you?"
"Of course not."
"Then just take this as an old folktale and listen."
Perhaps it was her tone, which made it plain she wasn't joking.
Lee Ha-yoon's easy smile sobered a little.
"If you have any strange dreams, or if anything happens — do exactly as I tell you."
"Huh? Okay."
Arms crossed, Shin Jeong-ah sank deep into thought for a moment, then went on.
"Buy red beans. And boil them."
"...And here I thought you had some grand secret to share. That's insultingly simple."
"They always are. When you buy the red beans at a big-box mart, if they sell sweet rice flour, grab a pack of that too."
"What's that for?"
"Sprinkle it around your bed."
Having seen and heard and learned a thing or two by now, Shin Jeong-ah spoke as though imparting some mighty secret remedy. But the words carried so little weight that Lee Ha-yoon's expression turned skeptical.
"Ah. Yes, ma'am."
"Listen seriously, you rascal. Every word of this is flesh and blood for you."
"Yes, of course. Whatever you say, ma'am."
"I mean it, damn it!"
"Anyway, if you're done with that coffee, let's go catch a movie — it's been ages. You've got nothing on today anyway, right?"
"Uuuugh."
Shin Jeong-ah groaned. Part of it was the sting of Ha-yoon brushing off her advice. And part of it was that she couldn't refute having nothing to do on a weekend, either.
Click.
"And seriously — go meet some people. Even if it's not a man, you're in the prime of your life. You're telling me you've got no one to see on the weekends? Does that even make sense?"
"Shut up!"
Feeling her innermost thoughts laid bare, Shin Jeong-ah forgot she was in a public cafe and raised her voice.
At that same hour, Kang Hyeong-seok had yet to wake from his dream.
Part of it was the drinks he'd downed past his limit to match a high-spirited Kwak Young-ho; part of it was that Lee Jin-pyeong could hold his liquor far better than expected.
And besides, it was Saturday. A day made for forgetting everything and sleeping in, guilt-free.
And yet, on the brow of the dreaming man, cold sweat was beading one slow drop at a time.
Ssssssssss...
In the dream, Kang Hyeong-seok walked through dense fog.
Where is this? Why am I here?
He reached for answers, but that is the nature of dreams — cause and effect dissolved the moment he grasped for them.
Thump. Thump.
Trudging a road as black as the Anmokji Reservoir, Kang Hyeong-seok found his hand slipping of its own accord into his breast — reaching for the Mudang Bang-ul, his sacred shaman bells.
But the only thing his fingers closed on was the Sinjangkal, split clean in two.
The Sinjangkal...
A sacred weapon Shin Yo-sep had given him. He had carried it only a short while, yet it had repaid him amply. Every time he swung it, he felt himself drawing a little nearer to the divine. If the shaman bells were an armament that shielded him, the Sinjangkal was the armament that bound him to his Momjusin.
Thump.
Propped on the broken halves of the Sinjangkal, Kang Hyeong-seok walked on. He could not have said why — only that he knew he had to keep to this road.
And that he was meant to meet something.
Then it happened.
Squelch.
Something hot and damp met his foot. The heat and viscosity of the liquid soaked vividly through his skin.
Blood?
He was staring down at his own feet when a presence brushed against his senses, and he lifted his head slowly.
The fog was as dense as ever. But the darkness had thinned enough for him to survey his surroundings.
Sacred murals. Paintings of the Four Heavenly Kings had, at some point, encircled him where he stood.
Facing those terrifying, majestic images, Kang Hyeong-seok raised the half-broken Sinjangkal.
At the same moment, a thick, spectral stench came flooding in and stung his nostrils. A reek of the dead laced with the musk of a wild beast — one he remembered all too well.
"Chang-gwi!"
SHREEEE!
Kang Hyeong-seok wheeled the Sinjangkal about, scanning every shadow. But there was no trace of the Chang-gwi anywhere.
Instead, the painted figures blurred and faded, and a familiar silhouette slowly took shape out of the darkness.
A general in traditional Eastern-style black armor.
It was Kang Hyeong-seok's Momjusin.
His face still hidden in shadow, the deity carried a general's sword.
Drip... drip... drip.
Scarlet blood slid down the blade and spattered to the ground. It had gathered into a puddle — a puddle that reached all the way to Kang Hyeong-seok's feet.
"...Was it you who did this?"
Gazing blankly up at his Momjusin, Kang Hyeong-seok went on.
"Why is there blood upon your blade? Whom is it you have cut down?"
In this moment, the Momjusin looked for all the world like a demon. And that was why Kang Hyeong-seok could not believe what he was seeing.
Why would his patron deity reek so thickly of blood?
Then—
FWOOSH!
Out of the darkness sprang a beast wearing a human head. It came from behind the Momjusin, and no sooner had Kang Hyeong-seok registered it than the sword came whistling down.
CRACK—BOOM!
Neck severed in a single stroke, the beast tumbled across the ground. The body lay crumpled where it had fallen, while the head rolled like a ball and came to a stop right in front of Kang Hyeong-seok.
The head — its face contorted in agony — was human. The fallen body, meanwhile, resembled a tiger's.
Startled, Kang Hyeong-seok turned his gaze back to the Momjusin.
Whish!
The deity spun the sword and leveled it at him. The hilt pointed his way seemed to speak a single command:
Take up the blade.