The Seed Has Been Sown (2)
This was as far as I could go.
I wasn’t the police, after all—certainly not some public authority with arrest powers.
As a decent citizen, I’d done my duty by reporting the criminal information. That should be enough.
"Wow. Things really do get wild around here. Did you hear that? They said drugs. Drugs."
Cheolhon, who had been listening to the cops gossip earlier, tore his eyes away from the monitor and spoke.
His gaze was fixed on me.
What was that supposed to mean?
For some reason, it sounded like he was saying this kind of thing happened around me all the time.
What, so I’m Conan now?
Ever since I left the orphanage, every time I woke up in the morning there’d be an incident; if I went on a picnic, there’d be an incident; if I went out with friends, something would blow up.
A walking plague?!
....
For some reason I could almost hear the Conan BGM playing behind me, but I ignored it.
"I’m just the kind of person who happens to find this stuff. I’d rather nothing like this happened at all."
But what could I do?
It happened.
All I could do was stop what I could.
"Huh? What are you talking about all of a sudden..."
"...Never mind."
He asked, looking bewildered.
Great. I’d gone and said something stupid because I felt guilty.
"Ahem. Let’s get back to hunting. You take the front."
Force mages were front-liners, after all.
He needed to protect the launcher in the back.
"Yes, sir. Understood."
And so we went right on enjoying the triple-experience event, sneaking glances at the miserable souls being dragged away.
.
.
.
It was about time to wrap up today’s stream.
Between this and that, I’d made a pretty tidy stack of gold.
I’d earned seven hundred thousand won today alone.
Time to blow it on cash items.
As I was thinking about what to do with this month’s payout, a line popped up in chat.
"Bro! Do you know anything about Muwol Bosal of Gyeryongsan?"
"Huh? What’s that?"
Bosal?
A monk?
"Look it up online."
So I did.
A quick search turned up an article in a local South Chungcheong newspaper about some shaman called Muwol Bosal of Gyeryongsan taking aim at me.
Whoa. A hit piece turning into a newspaper article...
I really was something else, huh?
The False Prophet Who Was Nothing But a Swindler
A false prophet named Kang Noah has recently been...
"Whoa, looks like you’re famous, bro."
"Now even articles like this are coming out."
"Lol, what, she’s challenging you to a fortune-telling showdown?"
"A challenge letter?"
That was interesting.
Through an interview with a local South Chungcheong newspaper, Muwol Bosal was confidently declaring that I was nothing but a fraud, and that before long she’d peel off my mask and expose me.
But did she have abilities similar to mine?
Honestly, I was curious.
I’d like to meet her once...
I picked up my phone and contacted Hong Si-yeon.
"Muwol Bosal? Who’s that?"
"Apparently she showed up in a South Chungcheong paper."
Hong Si-yeon, who had said she’d look into it, suddenly let out a snort of laughter.
It was nothing like her usual bright, airy laugh.
Just a sneer.
Cold as ice. The kind of laugh that sent a chill right down your spine.
"Seriously, now even the mullet fish is jumping."
"Who’s to say which of us is the mullet fish."
For all I knew, maybe that Muwol Bosal was a pretty impressive woman too.
If only I could see someone’s past and future from an article alone, that’d be great, but that wasn’t how it worked.
Maybe if my abilities grew stronger, that would become possible?
"So...? You planning to go?"
"I’m thinking about it. If she’s really genuine like me, then I’ve got all kinds of things I want to ask."
"Sounds good. When are you going?"
"Huh?"
"Huh?"
"No, I mean... why would you go, President Hong? I was planning to go with just Cheolhon."
"Huh? Whaaat? Why! Why! Why!"
"You said you were busy lately."
She was busy, that was true.
Not only with her own work, but also with all the cleanup surrounding my streams.
And that wasn’t all.
I’d heard she’d also been swamped dealing with the merger and acquisition issue for the company Kim Seokchun had handed over to me.
"Buuuut..."
I smiled at her dejected little voice.
"I’ll bring you back a gift when I come home."
Since Muwol Bosal’s shrine was supposed to be in Gyeryongsan... wasn’t Daejeon nearby?
I’d better go raid the bakery at Simsungdang.
Ah. Before going.
I should make a little preparation.
.
.
.
I had arrived in Daejeon.
Looking at the front of Daejeon Station, I could see a few soldiers taking pictures with the station as their backdrop.
Ah. They were probably angling it so the word DISCHARGE would appear above their heads in the photo.
Some of the soldiers snapping pictures and laughing would go back to college, while others would dive right back into the labor market.
One of them was becoming an resting youth.
There was nothing I could do about that.
"There are quite a lot of people here."
"It’s a pretty famous place."
"And the rental car..."
"It’s over there."
We’d already made a reservation, and when we went to the parking lot, the rental car employee was waiting for us.
A domestic midsize car.
It was the same class as Han Yu-na’s car, so it didn’t feel out of place.
"Get in. I’ll drive you there right away. We’re headed to Simsungdang first, right?"
"Yes."
If we were in Daejeon, that was where we had to go first.
We headed straight for Simsungdang, where we found the place packed with people.
There were seriously so damn many of them...
"Do you think we’ll even get to buy anything?"
"I don’t see a future where we can’t."
As I spoke while idly flipping the cards in my hand, Cheolhon’s expression brightened.
Come to think of it, he’d looked happy when I said I was going to Daejeon and mentioned Simsungdang.
"Cheolhon. Could you hold this for a second?"
I pointed to the iron tray piled high with bread.
Just as Cheolhon, looking puzzled, reached for the table—
CRACK!
A loud snap came from the wheel connected to the metal tray.
"Ugh!!"
As expected of Cheolhon.
Strong guy.
He was single-handedly bracing the iron tray, stuffed full of bread, and stopping it from tipping over onto the customers.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"
"Move! Everyone move!"
The customers rushed out of the way, and the staff came running.
Once we managed to keep the tray from collapsing, the staff let out a breath of relief.
"Th-thank you!"
"That was almost a disaster!!"
Yeah. It really had been close.
In a place this crowded, if that thing had gone down, it would’ve been total chaos.
No one would necessarily have failed to buy bread, and no one would necessarily have gotten hurt, but cleaning up the mess would’ve taken forever and made buying anything a pain in the ass.
"No... I didn’t really do anything..."
"No! No!!"
A man who looked like the manager stepped forward.
Then, after thanking Cheolhon over and over, he started saying something else.
"Ohoho..."
As a reward, we received Simsungdang bread vouchers and the now-famous Siru Cake vouchers.
Sweet deal.
"Since we got them anyway, let’s hand them out to everyone when we get back."
"Yes, sir!"
Seeing that we’d already made a profit right from the start, this trip really did seem like it would be worth it.
.
.
.
Since we’d be taking the train back from Daejeon Station anyway, I decided to use the vouchers on the day we returned.
"Then let’s get going."
We weren’t leaving empty-handed, at least.
We bought all kinds of bread to last through lunch, then headed back to the car.
From here on, we were going to Gyeryongsan.
"It should take about forty minutes or so."
"Please drive safely."
"Of course. Don’t worry. If you get tired, take a nap."
Seated in the car he was driving, I lazily looked out the window.
There was nothing particularly special about the streets of Daejeon.
Nothing special in the futures of the people walking those streets, either.
Ordinary lives.
Someone going to school.
Someone getting scolded by their mother.
Someone else working at their job.
Only peaceful futures stretched out before me.
And that peace slowly began to fade.
It wasn’t that people were in danger or anything; we were just leaving the city center of Daejeon.
Mountains and fields began appearing beside the road instead of people.
"They say there have long been plenty of shamans on Gyeryongsan."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. My grandmother even got a few charms from a shaman who said she’d trained there. She said she did it all because she was worried about me."
"Oh... really? How was it?"
"The next day, she fell and hurt her leg."
"Haha..."
"Honestly, I thought all this stuff was nonsense until I met you, sir."
That made sense.
His grandmother had been into this occult stuff, running all over the place to meet shamans and visit temples.
She’d prayed hard for her one and only grandson to turn out well.
Especially since Cheolhon was a bodyguard.
He was in a dangerous line of work. No wonder his grandmother had worried so much.
"I just thought they were scum bleeding people dry by exploiting their psychology."
"Haha... so you thought I was one of those bastards too?"
"To be honest, at first, a little. Ah, but not anymore. You’re the real thing, sir. You even got my grandmother’s situation right. So... I’m worried."
He was worried that this Muwol Bosal of Gyeryongsan might really be legitimate.
That she might actually have power, and that I might end up getting hurt.
"If something does happen, can’t we just handle it with brute force?"
"What are you planning to do..."
"If that shaman starts spouting nonsense and tries to hurt you, then I’ll hurt her first."
The thick veins stood out on the muscular forearm gripping the steering wheel.
Could you not go quite that far...
Anyway, after eating the bread we’d bought and sipping coffee, we arrived at our destination.
It was a rather large hanok in the countryside.
Clearly the kind of old Korean house where a shaman would live, we parked in front and knocked on the door. A middle-aged woman in a white sokchima opened it.
"Who are you..."
"I’m Kang Noah. I’ve come to see Muwol Bosal."
"...Come in."
The moment she heard the name Kang Noah, her expression turned cold, and she opened the door for us.
Since we’d been invited, we might as well go in.
"Oh..."
Stepping inside, I found it pretty fascinating.
So this was a shaman’s house?
"How dare you, false prophet, set foot in this sacred place!!"
My eardrums almost blew out.
An old woman in a black hanbok strode out from the main wooden hall.
If looks alone could kill, I’d probably died several times over already.
"Hello. I’m Kang Noah."
"Shut up!! You fraudulent wretch, to toy with people’s hearts with your lies...!!"
"Eh~."
A fraudulent wretch, huh.
That was harsh.
"So terribly truthful of you, teaming up with Hooran Construction to take down the president of Jinam Construction, were you?"
"W-what...?!"
You don’t seem quite as truthful as you think you are.