Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 003
Chapter Title: There Lives a Mad Shaman in the Afterlife
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"Haa, haa..."
An Young-hee, who had run until he was on the verge of suffocating, crouched in front of the convenience store and gasped for breath.
Once his breathing stabilized, blood flowed back to his head.
"Let's sort this out first. Prioritize sorting it out."
He had been hit by a curse and dragged into Purgatory Surface.
He had been targeted by the infamous MacArthur Shrine Maiden, registered even on the wiki, but managed to fend her off.
'Problems from start to finish.'
First, the curse at the root of all this chaos.
The sorcerer who cast the curse.
It probably wasn't aimed directly at An Young-hee. If it were, using a personal space would have been far easier than a public one.
The curse was clearly meant to achieve something specific, but the sorcerer had failed to reach their goal.
'I just popped out into reality.'
The way An Young-hee escaped Purgatory Surface was probably not the orthodox method.
It fell into an extremely rare category.
Not just the MacArthur Shrine Maiden's reaction, but the scenery visible to An Young-hee's eyes proved it.
Things he had never seen before were now visible everywhere.
First, spirits were visible.
Having visited Purgatory Surface, his spirit eyes must have opened.
Second, traces that didn't belong to this world were visible.
The MacArthur Shrine Maiden had called it Death Qi.
An eerie energy, or the energy of death. He didn't know the exact meaning, but it existed in reality too.
Basically black, but also blue, purple, and dark brown.
The colors were all murky overall.
Death Qi swirled through the streets, and intricate patterns of it were etched on the windows of the building across from the convenience store where An Young-hee sat.
Finally.
Purgatory Surface was visible.
He looked up at the sky. It was the usual sky.
He looked down at the ground.
Beyond the asphalt pavement, there was the convenience store and a red sky. It sat like a mirror image on the opposite side of reality.
An Young-hee stuck his hand into the Purgatory Surface beyond the asphalt.
With a little force, his fingertips sank into the asphalt pavement.
He withdrew his hand from the asphalt without showing surprise.
'This can't be normal.'
He checked the Purgatory Wiki too.
Searching for Purgatory Wiki on the internet brought up the site along with a strand of Death Qi from his smartphone.
Once you've set foot in Purgatory Surface once, it becomes relatively easy to come and go from the second time.
However, there was no mention of doing so bare-bodied.
Remote control of a doll created through sorcery.
Possession via a proxy.
True near-death state Deep Dive.
These three were the main methods, and it only noted that they grew more dangerous as one's spirit drew closer to Purgatory Surface.
There wasn't a single word about humans traversing Purgatory Surface bare-bodied, with their physical forms.
Humans escaping Purgatory Surface bare-bodied must be rare too.
Or nonexistent.
The MacArthur Shrine Maiden was dead.
It didn't seem like she had vanished from reality and returned to Purgatory Surface or anything like that.
Her final scream hadn't looked like smoke.
So he could relax on that front.
'There might be an investigation later.'
He could just deny it outright.
It didn't make sense for a rookie who had just stepped into Purgatory Surface to kill a shaman who served a General Spirit and had even been a mercenary back in the day.
What remained was the curse.
"What I can do now... check the scene."
An Young-hee stood up.
The culprit returns to the scene.
He couldn't go back to the crosswalk where the accident happened just in case he ran into the culprit amid the chaos, so heading to the scene was out.
Even in this mess, An Young-hee pulled out his wallet, emptied its contents, and tossed the wallet into the convenience store trash can.
An Young-hee went to the police station near the accident scene and checked the surveillance cameras.
He wasn't sure if this was allowed for civilians.
The officer in charge seemed unsure too.
At first he said no, but when An Young-hee insisted, he was called into an inner room, and then led to a corner room in the station.
"This is it, right?"
"Yes. 1:30. It doesn't go past 1:33."
"If you're lying, it's going to be a big problem."
The officer muttered as he moved the mouse.
"Huh, for real?"
An Young-hee appeared on the monitor that looked over ten years old.
Why did he remember the time?
He had a short-term job interview at 2.
He had been killing time at a cafe until then.
An Young-hee appeared in the corner of the screen, walking along the sidewalk to stand in front of the traffic light, then vanished.
"Excuse me."
"Yeah. Hold on."
The mouse rewound the time.
No matter how many times he repeated it, the same thing happened.
An Young-hee stood in front of the traffic light, and in the next frame, he was gone.
The officer said,
"Ah, the time got cut. First time I've seen something like this."
As An Young-hee vanished, the time jumped from 1:33 to 1:35.
Two minutes of time had disappeared.
"You're sure you dropped your wallet here?"
"Nowhere else."
"Damn, this is tricky. There's nothing we can do. These days, stuff often comes back through the post office, so leave your number and we'll contact you."
"Ah, thank you."
Leaving the monitoring room, An Young-hee gave the officer a fake number and exited the station.
On the way out, the officer quietly said,
"About seeing the camera footage."
"Of course."
He had gotten in without even filling out a single form.
As expected, it wasn't exactly the proper method.
An Young-hee stepped out onto the street.
"I didn't learn anything... not really."
The culprit who cast the curse could briefly stop electronic devices.
Well, they'd need that kind of ability to disguise a curse as a traffic accident.
Conversely, that was all he had learned.
An Young-hee entered a nearby convenience store, paid for a coffee, and bought a disposable power bank.
His three-year-old smartphone's battery drained noticeably faster.
Part of it was not charging it yesterday.
The sites he accessed were Purgatory Wiki and the Republic of Korea Purgatory chit-chat board. Commonly called Chit-chat.
An Young-hee searched from his first post.
Three replies and a few comments teasing Blood Master.
That was the end of interest in An Young-hee's first post.
No one took the post seriously.
Blood Master at best?
Cheongsong Young Lord had replied earnestly, but it seemed like sticking to a concept.
'A natural reaction.'
You can't survive the harsh internet by investing emotions in every anonymous post.
Still, he gleaned some useful info.
Shamans serving General Spirits were combat weapons incomparable even to special forces, infused with the experience and power of battle-hardened veterans.
The MacArthur Shrine Maiden's pistol hadn't missed once, fired one-handed. Her final movements were those of a master martial artist.
Blood Master seemed to be a famous blood demon even on Chit-chat.
Blood demon.
Like a vampire, maybe.
There were dying civilizations, and Purgatory Surface where those dying civilizations lingered.
One blood demon wasn't surprising.
An Young-hee's home was an officetel over 20 years old.
Surprisingly, it was registered in An Young-hee's name.
It became his after his mother passed away.
There was nearly 20 million won left on the housing mortgage, which he'd have to pay off over the next two years while working.
The front door was open.
An Young-hee panicked briefly, but sighed in relief upon seeing the shoes in the entryway.
"Uncle."
"An Young-hee, how've you been?"
"Fine."
An Young-hee's maternal uncle was a man in his early forties.
Not ordinary. You wouldn't call a muscular body without an ounce of fat ordinary.
"Having some snacks."
"You brought them, Uncle."
"Gave 'em to you, so they're yours."
He wasn't mad at his uncle for coming and going as he pleased.
An Young-hee's mother had passed three years ago, and soon after, he enlisted.
He could have deferred, but chose to go himself.
It was hard to endure the empty, desolate house.
After the funeral, while An Young-hee was in a daze, his uncle handled everything from transferring the deed to minor chores.
The one who managed the house while he was in the army was Uncle Geum Se-hun.
Breaking in like this didn't even annoy him.
Geum Se-hun said,
"Another part-time gig?"
"The last one fell through. Looking for short-term ones while job hunting."
"Jobs are..."
"I'm good."
An Young-hee cut off Geum Se-hun.
The two men stared at their smartphones.
Game sounds came from Geum Se-hun's phone.
Captain, manager, trainer, teacher. Who knew what jobs he held.
"Tomorrow. Your mother's death anniversary. You know."
"Should I not go?"
"...Yeah."
An Young-hee's maternal family was wealthy.
Mostly real estate investments, to the point where people said you'd step on maternal family land once in Songdo.
An Young-hee didn't know his father's face or name. He just took his father's surname.
His mother had cut ties with her family upon getting pregnant with him.
Even after cutting ties, her personal assets were worth hundreds of millions.
She worked too, living comfortably off that income.
When she got a rare disease, money started pouring out like water.
She hadn't wanted treatment, but An Young-hee clung to even slim chances.
Just as he was thinking of selling the house beyond the loan, he learned of his maternal family.
They quietly covered hospital and treatment bills.
The treatment costs they paid behind An Young-hee and his mother's back must have been hundreds of millions.
They even went to Canada to see a rare disease specialist.
They offered to pay off the loan, but he refused.
If it were an impossible amount, he'd have accepted, but it wasn't.
Flimsy pride.
He wanted proof that he had tried to treat his mother with money earned by his own hands.
There was also a reluctance to let maternal capital seep into a house full of memories.
Like having part of the house taken away.
So An Young-hee had been paying off the loan bit by bit until now.
His mother passed, and his grandfather, citing the treatment costs, sent word via Geum Se-hun not to come to the columbarium on anniversaries.
If the whole maternal family were hostile, he'd ignore it, but the relatives he met at the funeral—all except grandfather—were good people.
"He said not to come the first year, nothing last year, so every other year? Feeling the consideration?"
"He's my grandfather, but stubborn as hell. Stubborn, capricious. How much longer does that old fart have anyway."
"Isn't that unfilial?"
"Experience your maternal grandfather yourself and you won't say that. At least he has some affection, thankfully."
They ordered chicken and pizza, ate, and Geum Se-hun left.
"Get a job and call. I'll treat you to a blowout."
"That famous 3-star fine dining these days."
"Deal. SME or shithole, just pass."
An Young-hee was left alone in the quiet house.
A murmur escaped his lips unbidden.
"I miss Mom."
Could he see her?
An Young-hee opened Purgatory Wiki.
How to meet the dead.
So many searches it had its own entry.
-Few souls go straight to hell or heaven.
-F most souls fall to Purgatory Surface, some linger on the surface for years.
-The duration of stay is not clearly known.
-As short as 30 seconds, some souls have stayed over 20 years.
-Look for places the soul loved in life.
The '20 years or more' part was linked differently. Clicking it led to another page.
The MacArthur Shrine Maiden entry.
"She was an old monster who died over 20 years ago..."
True creepy obsession.
At the same time, that info became hope.
If he got lucky, he could meet his mother in Purgatory Surface.
Somewhere in the Republic of Korea.
Six shamans gathered.
They all shared one thing: they wielded weapons—toys? Guns, swords, crescent blades, etc.
"The MacArthur Shrine Maiden was exorcised."
"That vicious bitch got exorcised? Something wrong here?"
"Direct testimony from her."
"Hitler. That stupid lunatic opened his mouth?"
Shamans and spirit mediums who receive Divine Descent like shamans can borrow power from various spirits.
But they all have one unique spirit.
Body Deity.
The first spirit they serve upon Divine Descent.
The Body Deity set upon first Divine Descent isn't chosen by the shaman, and in modern times, it's said impossible to change once set.
A shaman who received a malevolent spirit whose name echoes in world history as their Body Deity.
What can you do.
Just serve it well.