Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 002
Chapter Title: Mad Shamans Live in the Afterlife
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The MacArthur Shrine Maiden drew closer.
Now there was truly no way back.
Thanks to his desperate inner scream, his body finally started to move.
"Fuck off!"
An Young-hee shoved the MacArthur Shrine Maiden away.
Respect for elders?
Show it twice, and his soul and body would get sucked right out!
The teahouse trembled violently. The building shook as if it were about to collapse.
How dare you! A hallucinated voice echoed.
He could feel the MacArthur from hell seething with rage.
This was the MacArthur Shrine Maiden's domain.
An old woman who carried a gun around.
It wouldn't be strange if the cafe wall split open to reveal an armory behind it.
For now, he had to run.
An Young-hee bolted for the teahouse entrance.
The door was locked.
He grabbed an overturned chair and smashed it against the glass door.
Crash!
He leaped through the shattered door and sprinted down the mountain.
The General Teahouse sat midway between Dobong Mountain and Purgatory Surface civilization. A short run later, modern structures came into view.
An Young-hee ducked into a building corner and slipped his hand into his pocket.
"...Left it behind."
The smartphone from the government official was gone. Instead, his original phone was there.
The screen was badly cracked.
"Will it turn on?"
If it'd been a normal car accident death, he wouldn't have held out hope. But An Young-hee had died in a very special kind of accident.
A phone with just a shattered screen might...
The light flickered on.
"Yes!"
His cheer was short-lived.
What could he do against a gun-toting Purgatory veteran shaman with just a smartphone?
Still, he couldn't just sit there and die.
An Young-hee chose the best option he had.
Information.
In other words, the wiki.
Information was a weapon.
He searched Purgatory Wiki for MacArthur Shrine Maiden.
Below that, her life and achievements scrolled down in detail.
None of it helped An Young-hee.
I'm being targeted by that friendly neighbor!
But he learned one thing.
No point asking for help.
Attacked by the friendly neighbor.
A MacArthur Shrine Maiden who'd served in Purgatory for decades versus a total newbie.
If he ran into the street yelling for help, whose side would people take?
An Young-hee stepped onto the road. Almost no one was around.
The outward appearance was nearly identical, but reality was reality, and Purgatory Surface was Purgatory Surface. Completely different places.
Differences between the two caught his eye, but he had no time to examine them.
An Young-hee focused everything on his smartphone, feverishly gathering info.
Purgatory Wiki had a linked community.
Korea Purgatory Chit-Chat Board.
An anonymous forum anyone familiar with the internet would know.
The wiki was like a book.
Well-organized info, but finding what you wanted took legwork.
The community was like a lecturer or professor teaching from books.
Ask a question, get the info right away. Bonus: advice drawn from dozens of books and decades of study.
The fastest way to escape a mad shaman.
The answer lay in the community.
"What should I title it?"
Posts mentioning MacArthur Shrine Maiden were out.
He needed quick replies, so title and content had to be provocative.
After a brief think, An Young-hee tapped away.
An Young-hee caught his breath and scanned his surroundings.
There were no cars in Purgatory Surface.
Rickshaws and bizarre beasts pulled carriages down the four-lane road.
Hardly any people in sight.
On this massive boulevard, maybe a hundred total?
This ain't good.
Bad news.
Hide a tree in the forest, a person in a crowd.
No people, no hiding.
He checked his phone.
In that short time, over a dozen comments had piled up.
Mostly 'lololol', 'good luck' reactions, but some useful ones.
He hadn't committed any sins. She'd attacked out of nowhere.
This body of his must have something special enough for a famed shaman to risk divine punishment.
General MacArthur counted as a General Spirit, right?
If that comment was accurate, overpowering the MacArthur Shrine Maiden by force was impossible.
He'd never planned to face her head-on anyway, especially with her pistol—and possibly worse weapons.
Blood... had potential!
Lips... Urk. Anyway, that's what he'd tried. She'd said she was taking his body—that had to be part of the ritual.
Just needed her blood once.
In the corner of his vision as he looked around, a hunched back moved with unnaturally quick steps.
Pistol in one hand, talismans in the other. Grenades on her belt.
Their eyes met.
The MacArthur Shrine Maiden approached with gliding steps.
"Crazy bitch!"
An Young-hee ran.
Weaving between buildings, he pocketed a sharp metal shard from the ground.
He realized while running: most buildings here were empty.
This was Purgatory Surface.
Where dead civilization lingered.
Odd for it to be teeming with people anyway.
An Young-hee picked an empty building and slipped inside.
The office inside had brand-new furniture gathering dust, abandoned.
Scissors, utility knife, thumbtacks, basic tools.
He grabbed everything that could be a weapon.
But An Young-hee couldn't relax.
Opponent: shaman serving a General Spirit. Armed with pistol and grenades.
Even had a mercenary background.
"Blood. That's all I got."
Weapons stuffed in pockets, the street-found shard tied with panty elastic.
He shoved desk and chair to barricade the door, then leaned against the wall, waiting for the MacArthur Shrine Maiden.
Silence.
An Young-hee pulled out his trembling phone.
He was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion.
Needed to distract his mind. He replied to the comments one by one, starting with Cheongsong Young Lord.
Clack. Clack.
Footsteps echoed from the end of the hall.
Dragging shoes on the floor.
Metal clinks and rustling paper.
Click, click.
The office doorknob turned. The locked door held.
Bang.
The knob shattered, and the door flew open.
A wrinkled face appeared in the gap.
"Not bad stamina for a modern punk. Fresh out of the military?"
An Young-hee hurled the awl he'd found in the office.
The MacArthur Shrine Maiden dodged as if expecting it, then peeked in again.
"Think this'll stop me?"
Footsteps receded.
A faint metallic click.
Then.
BOOM!
The door shredded to rags. Desk and chair barricade collapsed.
Stepping over the fallen desk, kicking chairs aside, the hunched MacArthur Shrine Maiden advanced.
She pulled out a cigar, lit it on the burning chair.
Then took a deep drag.
"Whew. Died of lung cancer. Couldn't even treat it with sorcery-made smokes. Quit after that, but damn... been a while."
Bang bang bang.
She kept talking, kept shooting.
Pistol rounds tore through both arms and thighs.
Black smoke poured from wounds, strength draining away.
An Young-hee slid down the wall.
In this moment.
Not fear, but another emotion dominated his mind.
"Smoke...?"
Even back at the teahouse, shots had produced black smoke from wounds.
No blood. Smoke.
The MacArthur Shrine Maiden halted.
Cigar in mouth, she leisurely eyed An Young-hee.
"Young folks adapt fast, huh. Were you hoping for my blood with that?"
Spot on, An Young-hee shut his mouth.
The MacArthur Shrine Maiden cackled.
"I'm long dead—no blood left. Most here are the same. Who brings their body to Purgatory? Against the natural order."
She drew a small knife, sliced her finger.
Black smoke, not blood, from the cut.
"This smoke's Purgatory's life force. Called death qi."
She crushed the half-smoked cigar underfoot, stood before An Young-hee.
"Young one. Tell me your name. You'll vanish clean, no lingering soul. Leaving scraps just means bearing others' sins."
"..."
"Ignoring a shaman's final advice? That's on you."
She bent down.
An Young-hee felt like he was going mad.
Blood Master said shaman blood purifies, but not that shamans even bleed.
Maybe they bring blood when entering Purgatory.
Most shamans carry blood, so the advice wasn't wrong.
This ghost was just unusually special.
End of the line?
Fuck.
Tasting defeat once, the MacArthur Shrine Maiden stayed cautious.
Pistol to his forehead in one hand, talisman in the other grabbing his shoulder.
Cigar-stinking lips neared.
"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!!!"
Twitch.
His arm jerked.
An Young-hee gritted teeth, strained. Arm rose slowly.
"Half-dead bastard!"
She raged, tightening her talisman grip.
Talisman activated, stuck to his body, toppled him sideways from the wall.
Back-first to the floor.
What followed was dramatic.
Purgatory Surface was quiet.
No noise but what the MacArthur Shrine Maiden and An Young-hee made.
Building interior dark, no lights.
Fluorescent glare stung his eyes.
Inrushing noise pierced his ears.
An Young-hee turned his head.
A dozen people stared, slack-jawed, mid-work.
Sky outside the window: clear blue.
This was... reality. Back in reality.
"Kieeeek!!!"
A shriek rang out.
The MacArthur Shrine Maiden atop him was burning. Flames wrapping her, rolling wildly.
Talismans on his body incinerated.
Her body crumbled to ash bit by bit.
Most gone, face alone left, eyes flashing as if receiving Divine Descent, glaring at An Young-hee.
"This can't be! It shouldn't be! The laws of the world can't allow this! Who are you! What are you! Who breaks the world's laws like this! I'll curse you from hell! With the General, with his army, curse you till you fall to hell!"
An Young-hee rose quietly, placed foot on her head.
"Fuck you."
Middle finger up, he stomped out the burning head. Ground his sole repeatedly.
An Young-hee scanned the office.
No security cameras.
No idiots pulling phones.
Worst avoided.
He clapped.
Clap!
"Bit of a commotion. Carry on, folks."
Acting casual, he strolled through the dazed crowd out of the office.
Once out, he sprinted full tilt from the building.