The Weight of Sin
Seong Ji-tae was in a state of severe panic. The crisis he found himself in was bad enough, but the most shocking part was that 100.100 was both human and an exorcist. Hadn’t Joo-ttak recently sworn that humans could never enter the Ghost Gallery? So what exactly was this situation staring him in the face? No matter how you looked at it, 100.100 was unmistakably human—an exorcist capable of commanding familiars, no less. Which could only mean Joo-ttak… the King of Steel had lied.
But that was impossible. ‘There’s no way that guy would lie…!’
As far as Seong Ji-tae knew, the King of Steel was not the sort to speak falsehoods. If anything, the King of Steel had every reason to despise lies. He would never utter one from his own mouth. So how did that square with his earlier claim that there was nothing wrong with the gallery system? And why was the person standing before him—100.100—clearly human?
Seong Ji-tae’s mind spun with facts that refused to fit together, since he had no idea of the truth about Se-hwan. It was right then that—
“Let’s not drag this out.”
Se-hwan raised the Lightning Strike Talisman straight ahead. Seong Ji-tae’s eyes flew wide. He knew exactly what that talisman meant. Among monsters it was the most famous—and the most lethal.
‘Not the Lightning Strike Talisman…!’
The moment it landed, his soul would be annihilated. He was already dead, yet he still had desires left unfulfilled. He didn’t want to vanish like this. Desperation sharpened his voice into a shout.
“W-wait…!!”
“Wait for what? Don’t try any tricks, you evil spirit.”
“J-just hold on! I have my own story, damn it!”
Se-hwan’s gaze grew thoughtful, his brows drawing together slightly. ‘He seems interested…!’
Seong Ji-tae took the reaction as encouragement and switched tactics. Pouring every ounce of emotion into his voice, he wailed.
“I—I had no choice but to become like this!”
He was begging for sympathy. Everything that had led him here had been unavoidable. That was the story he was selling.
Seong Ji-tae had lost his mother at a very young age. Because of that, he grew up never knowing what a mother’s love felt like. He had lived with his father the entire time; even if something was missing, his father could have filled that maternal role. But unfortunately, Seong Ji-tae’s father was anything but a family man.
“Dad, my kindergarten is having a parents’ visiting day.”
“…I’m busy that day. There’s an important meeting. I’ll call your teacher, so don’t worry about it.”
His father lived for work alone. Thanks to that, Seong Ji-tae had grown up in a materially abundant environment even without a mother. Yet his heart always felt hollow, like something essential had been scooped out and never replaced. That hole only grew larger with time.
“Ah, yes, Ji-tae’s father~. Oh, you’re too busy to attend? Yes, I understand. No, it can’t be helped~.”
“Dad’s not coming?”
“Well… Ji-tae, it seems your father has a very important meeting. The company’s top people will all be there, so he can’t miss it. Let’s be mature and understand Daddy, okay?”
Even the teacher tiptoed around his father’s social and financial status. The more that happened, the more Seong Ji-tae felt something inside him being gouged out. The hole became permanent the day his father laid hands on him.
Stressed by the absence of his mother, the boy had tried to vent his frustration by yelling at his father.
“Why don’t I have a mom!! The other kids keep calling me the kid without a mom… It’s all your fault!!”
But his father—already overwhelmed by work and stress from the outside world—had no patience for childish rebellion. He had never been a family-oriented man to begin with, and he was so indifferent it was hard to tell if he even saw Seong Ji-tae as his own son. The result was almost inevitable.
The day he was slapped so hard his small body left the ground, Seong Ji-tae’s personality began to twist. He stopped getting along with others. He spent most of his time alone. After school he would shut himself in his room for hours. His family-averse father simply labeled it “freedom” and used that pretty excuse to neglect him completely.
That was how Seong Ji-tae reached adulthood—without ever learning proper social skills or filling the emptiness inside him.
“Seong Ji-tae. Sit down.”
His father had summoned the now-grown Seong Ji-tae and laid out his demands. He had allowed freedom during the boy’s minority, but now that he was an adult he was expected to live like a proper human being. Since he hadn’t gone to university, he should get a decent job and start living responsibly from now on. If he did that, his father would provide a car for commuting and, if necessary, even a house. And if he showed real effort, his father would later cover wedding funds, a marital home, and child-rearing costs.
But after more than a decade of total neglect, the sudden interference went in one ear and out the other. If his father had reached out even once during all those lonely years, maybe Seong Ji-tae would have listened. Besides, the only thing the man talked about now that his son was finally grown was money—endless, tiresome talk of money. That wasn’t what Seong Ji-tae had ever wanted.
He left his father’s house that day and lived alone. Once contact with his father was completely severed, Seong Ji-tae grew increasingly closed off. He began to see the world with a crooked gaze. Having no relationships with people in general, he naturally had none with the opposite sex either… or perhaps the emptiness inside him simply festered. Either way, he developed disturbing sexual perversions.
In the end, Seong Ji-tae chose suicide. Never having learned the true value of life, he suddenly questioned his own existence and took his life. Spirits who died by suicide usually did not pass on peacefully. Seong Ji-tae became a vengeful ghost and remained in the living world. He believed his lingering regret was the absence of his mother. Therefore, finding a replacement for her was his unresolved attachment. And so…
“Stop.”
Seong Ji-tae, who had been pouring out his story without pause, flinched. Se-hwan cut through the long-winded tale with a cold, murderous glare.
“What do you expect me to do about it?”
“I… I’m saying I had no choice but to end up like this.”
“And?”
“You people do that thing, right? You listen to ghosts’ worries and help them ascend. That girl over there is Snowflake, isn’t she? You work together with her, don’t you?”
Having guessed that 100.100’s companion was the gumiho known as Snowflake, Seong Ji-tae pressed on.
“Help me ascend. I’ll give you all the spiritual energy I have left! That works, doesn’t it?”
“Ascend?”
“Yes, ascend! I won’t harm any of you. If you just help me move on…”
“Ha.”
Se-hwan let out a hollow laugh. He stared at Seong Ji-tae with pure disbelief.
“Don’t make me laugh, you idiot.”
“……What?”
“That’s what you tell normal spirits. Do you think you’re normal?”
Anger seeped into his voice; his brows were tightly furrowed. It had been a long time since Se-hwan had been this furious.
“Just looking at the sheer amount of yin energy you’re carrying tells me how many people you’ve hurt. And you still have the nerve to spout that crap.”
Se-hwan demanded, “What exactly did you do to those women? You toyed with them as you pleased, killed them, and swallowed their souls, didn’t you?”
“…I-I know I was wrong! I’m truly sorry! But I already told you I had no choice…”
“There is no such thing as ‘no choice.’”
Se-hwan was usually the type to grumble and complain, but he rarely showed real anger. For him to curse and lash out like this showed just how enraged he was.
“If you kill people because you ‘had no choice,’ does that make it justified? No, you stupid bastard. Your actions weren’t justified—you’re just rationalizing them after the fact.”
“R-rationalizing?! Everything I said was true…!”
“Everyone has a story. But if you think having a sad one gives you the right to harm innocent people—”
Se-hwan’s voice was ice.
“—then you are gravely mistaken.”
He raised the Lightning Strike Talisman once more.
“Evil spirit Seong Ji-tae. Your sins are extremely heavy, and the nature of your crimes is vile.”
Realizing the situation had turned deadly, Seong Ji-tae tried to flee. But by then the lightning beast had already sunk its teeth into his thigh.
Zzzzzzzzzzt!!!
The lightning beast’s electricity paralyzed him, locking his body in place. At the same time, heavy footsteps approached. Seong Ji-tae flinched and shook his head violently.
“N-no! Don’t come near me, you son of a bitch!!”
A burst of malevolent energy exploded outward. His body was immobile so he couldn’t control it properly, but it was still enough. The aura was so toxic that any living person who came close would have their soul torn apart. Or so he thought.
Yet Se-hwan stepped forward without the slightest hesitation.
“What…!?”
Seong Ji-tae thought it was reckless, but Se-hwan wasn’t being reckless at all. He was still sitting down, but Jang San—true to her nature as a powerful spiritual beast—had recovered enough yeong-gi to shield him.
The footsteps stopped right in front of him.
“As an exorcist clan that carries out the will of Yama, I will now pass judgment on you.”
Se-hwan halted, staring down at the immobilized Seong Ji-tae with frigid eyes. He pressed the Lightning Strike Talisman to the evil spirit’s forehead and quietly clasped his hands together.
"O nameless spirits,"
"this unworthy one shall resolve your grudges in your stead…"
"so please, rest in peace."
⟨ Thunder ⟩
It was not a prayer for Seong Ji-tae’s soul. It was a memorial for the countless nameless victims whose souls had been devoured along with their lives. Even though those consumed souls could never return, Se-hwan still honored them. Carrying their resentment, he whispered the final word.
“Thunder.”
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwaaaaaang———!!
Seong Ji-tae, struck by the lightning, had been reduced to a pile of ash and scattered away.
I turned my head slightly to look at Baek Seol-hwa and Jang San, who were still sitting on the ground.
“Still can’t stand up?”
“…Sorry. Just a little longer.”
“Me too…”
“Why do you two keep apologizing? Just rest properly and we’ll head back when you’re ready.”
Baek Seol-hwa’s fluffy tail and Jang San’s long tail drooped at the same time. Even though I said it was fine, it looked like the incident had been quite the blow to their pride. One was a thousand-year-old yokai, the other the King of Mount Baekdu—one of the highest-ranking spiritual beasts. Getting knocked down like that must have stung.
“You shouldn’t have let your guard down.”
“Ugh…!”
“Se-hwan… it hurts…”
I said it on purpose. I knew it would sting, but sometimes a sharp word was the only way to make sure the lesson really sank in.
Right then, someone came running while shouting.
“Se-Se-hwan!? A huge lightning bolt just struck here!!!”
It was Jeong Se-a. She had sprinted over in a panic after the sudden thunderclap.
“I did that. No need to worry.”
“……?”
Jeong Se-a tilted her head. “Se-hwan, did you hit your head or something?”
“…I’m not hurt.”
This girl, I swear…
“Anyway, thanks for your hard work, Jeong Se-a. You must’ve been scared too.”
“Huh? No, it wasn’t that dark, so I’m fine.”
Jeong Se-a scratched her cheek shyly, then noticed Baek Seol-hwa and Jang San behind me.
“Ah, Snowflake and San saved you!”
“Yeah.”
“Thank goodness. Are both of you okay?”
Jeong Se-a hurried over to check on them. The two seemed mortified that a normal human who wasn’t even an exorcist had seen them in such a pathetic state, so they vigorously insisted they were perfectly fine.
“Se-hwan! They can’t even stand up—what do we do!?”
Her plea clearly fell on deaf ears.
“Just leave them. They’ll recover on their—”
“You carry Seol-hwa. I’ll carry San.”
“What? Whoa!”
“Don’t drop me!”
Suddenly a heavy weight landed on my back and I nearly toppled over. I barely caught my balance and looked back with a dumbfounded expression. Baek Seol-hwa was there—Jeong Se-a had apparently decided for me.
“I-I’m not heavy, okay!?”
“No matter how light a person is, they still weigh over eighty pounds. You think two sacks of rice are weightless?”
“But Se-a lifted her so easily?”
“That’s because Jeong Se-a has been training for years and has monstrous strength…”
“Se-hwan, what was that?”
“…Actually, it’s a good idea. We can’t just leave them sitting on the cold ground.”
“Right?”
Jeong Se-a beamed as she hoisted Jang San onto her back. Even though Jang San was taller than her, she lifted the spiritual beast with surprising ease. Jang San blinked in surprise for a moment, then smiled and offered her thanks.
“Thank you, Se-a unnie.”
“No problem~.”
…Was that what they called compressed muscle?
“Let’s head back now, Se-hwan.”
Watching Jeong Se-a smile so casually while carrying Jang San, a thought occurred to me. We still had to walk down the mountain like this. Carrying a full-grown person down a mountain wasn’t exactly—
“Hurry up, Se-hwan.”
“Wait, this is—”
“Let’s go!”
“Hey, Jeong Se-a!!”