The Fan-Waving Man
Right in the heart of downtown Seoul.
[War of the Gods: Battle Against the Unseen]
[Simultaneous Global Release in 190 Countries]
The advertisement plastered on the massive electronic billboard was incredibly provocative. Moreover, with the face of top idol Siwoo—who had been cast as a panelist—emblazoned in giant letters, it was impossible not to look.
Of course, the reactions of those who saw the ad were mixed.
"Isn't that Lady Yeonhwa? I heard she's the real deal in Gangnam, so she must be appearing on it."
"They say even politicians line up to see that Cheongwang Taoist guy."
The middle-aged demographic, who tended to have a high interest in shamanism, perked up at the news that famous mudangs would be appearing. On the other hand, the vast majority who had no interest in the occult dismissed it as mere mindless entertainment.
"Shamans? Pfft. Who actually believes that stuff these days?"
"It’s just a variety show. I’m only watching because Siwoo-oppa is on it."
They assumed it was all rigged. And so, amid the public's curiosity, the first episode of War of the Gods was released. With a thunderous beat of drums, the set filled the screen, and the viewers' first reaction was one of genuine awe.
Then, the cast appeared. Lady Yeonhwa walking on blades. Jaewoon shaking bells to channel spirits. The Cheongwang Taoist calmly burning talismans. It was flashy. It was mysterious. But that was it.
Most viewers took the performances on screen as a show. Just as the ratings graph began to trend downward, the atmosphere of the screen shifted.
[They are smiling on the outside, but...]
The screen cut to the waiting room along with the subtitle. As the individual interviews of the mudangs—who had been exchanging pleasantries just moments before—began to air, the viewers' eyes widened.
[Interview: Lady Yeonhwa]
"Cheongwang Taoist? Hmph, does that old man even have any spiritual power left? He’s just guessing by reading the room."
[Interview: Jaewoon]
"What would a woman who only dealt with Gangnam housewives know? The real deal is me."
The raw, backstabbing gossip sparked interest among the viewers.
As the saying goes, there’s nothing more entertaining than watching a fight. It had the fun of a "makjang" variety show that stimulated dopamine. But just as the first episode ended and the ending credits were about to roll...
ZZZT—!
Without any warning, the screen shook violently. The flashy BGM and subtitles disappeared. In their place, crude Gothic-style text appeared on the black screen.
Then, the preview for episode two aired. Shaky camera angles. Heavy breathing. "Argh! Wh-what is this!" The filming crew, having entered the abandoned house set, were literally sent flying. The camera tumbled on the floor, spinning wildly. "Help me! The door won't open!" The desperate screams of the staff and their terrified retreat were broadcast without any editing.
And in the midst of that chaos, the screen cut to black with the back of a man standing and fanning himself: [The real war begins.] The viewers leaned forward.
Immediately after the broadcast, the keywords dominated the real-time search rankings. Before that interest could even cool down, the second episode was released the very next day, but...
Grey sweatpants with baggy knees. A black hoodie. An old fan in his hand. "I'm Kang Jinwoo. I do internet broadcasting. Dad, Mom, Jina. I'm on TV."
The viewers couldn't hide their bewilderment at Kang Jinwoo's appearance. Even if it was a rigged show, he looked like he’d just stepped out for a neighborhood stroll. However, there was one place that welcomed Kang Jinwoo with open arms: the Ghost Experience Gallery. And for good reason—the gallery had been like a funeral home for the past week.
Kang Jinwoo had been gone for so long without a word that the "Ghost Experience" fans thought they’d been abandoned. And yet, he had suddenly appeared on TV.
The broadcast proceeded quickly. And finally, that scene. "Hide and seek, hide and seek, I see your hair." ZZZT—! As Kang Jinwoo hummed while unfolding his fan, noise filled the screen. The viewers naturally assumed it was a production effect, as it was a common trope in occult shows. But the next scene was a bit strange.
BOOM—!
With a dull, thudding impact, the main camera director, who had been leading the entry, was sent flying backward like a sheet of paper. The camera spun in the air like a top. The assistant director, trying to help the fallen director, was lifted into the air and slammed backward. The staff member holding the boom mic was dragged backward as if someone were grabbing him by the collar.
It was too real to be dismissed as a production effect. But still, a broadcast was a broadcast.
The screen changed. Four people stood in the front yard of the abandoned house. "Seniors, finding the flag is important, but shouldn't we exorcise the evil spirit here first?" At Kang Jinwoo's suggestion, the mudangs nodded with solemn expressions. A grand drum beat began, and a full-scale shaman ritual commenced. Jaewoon, the possessed shaman, was the first to step forward, shouting incantations, followed by the Cheongwang Taoist throwing talismans, and finally Lady Yeonhwa dancing barefoot on blades.
But at that moment, the camera caught the man standing blankly. Kang Jinwoo. He didn't shout or use flashy tools like the other mudangs. He just stared blankly at his old fan.
Just as the viewers' mockery poured in, Kang Jinwoo moved. He opened his fan, raised his arm, and began to dance. But the form was, well...
It was closer to a struggle than a dance. He was dancing hard, but he was off-beat and his movements were clumsy. It was so funny that the viewers burst out laughing. But when that clumsy fanning was repeated three or four times...
WHOOSH—!
Wind began to blow through the set. As Kang Jinwoo swung his fan wide and stumbled, a sandstorm erupted from his center, spreading in all directions. The hundreds of colorful ritual cloths hanging on the set screamed as if they were being torn apart.
Lady Yeonhwa, who had been dancing on the blades, wobbled, and the flames from the Cheongwang Taoist's talismans backfired, nearly burning his beard. Jaewoon's bell sounds were buried by the wind.
And at the center of that sandstorm was Kang Jinwoo, still fanning himself with a strange rhythm in his clumsy posture. When he swung the fan to the left, the trees on the left shook; when he swung it to the right, the trees on the right shook. The moment he raised the fan high above his head and dropped it, the fan shattered into pieces, and the fog surrounding the set vanished in an instant.
A moment of silence followed. The mudangs stared blankly at Kang Jinwoo with their hair disheveled. Kang Jinwoo, as if nothing had happened, tossed the broken fan to the floor and muttered, "Nice."
With that, the second episode of War of the Gods ended. The viewers couldn't understand what they had just seen. It was clearly a clumsy gesture. But the mudangs who had been performing the grand ritual were nearly blown away, and the fog had cleared in an instant. Confusion set in. Was this the insane production quality of the broadcasting station, or was there something they didn't know?
Curiosity soon turned into action. People grabbed their smartphones as if possessed and went online. Thousands, tens of thousands of fingers moved at once. The "Fan-Waving Man" had officially taken the #1 spot on portal site searches, pushing even the top idol Siwoo aside. It was the prelude to the Kang Jinwoo syndrome that would shake the entire nation.