Mudoo - Chapter 31

Part 4: The Evil Spirit

No one comes looking for a shaman who’s lost her power.

The once-bustling shrine was now deserted, save for the occasional fly. The gods she used to serve—her patron spirit included—had all abandoned her. With no other job or skills, all she could do now was sit in the empty shrine and sigh, blaming her misfortunes.

A snowstorm raged outside. Though it was midday, heavy clouds covered the sun, plunging the room into gloom.

“Ow, my leg…”

She limped toward the altar, dragging her aching leg.

When she first received her spirit, the pain in her right leg had been so intense she’d wanted to cut it off. It had gone away for a while, and she’d thought she was healed. But once her guardian spirit left her, the pain came back stronger than ever, leaving her barely able to walk.

She lit the half-used candle on the altar. She didn’t even know who she was praying to anymore, but she still lit a candle and offered a prayer every day at this time. Habit was all she had left.

As she massaged her aching leg and stepped back a few paces—

—A gust of wind burst through the open door. It swept across the altar, snuffing out every candle and knocking over all the ritual items.

A foul energy had entered.

She couldn’t see it—but she could feel it.

“How dare you bring chaos into this sacred place!” she shouted. A cold wind brushed her cheek.

Then came the laughter. Shrill, grating, inhuman.

Heeheehee. Hiiik. Kikiki.

She turned frantically, trying to locate the presence—and froze.

There, sitting right on the cushion she used for readings, was a woman.

Her eyes were bloodshot, the veins in her face dark and webbed, her lips torn all the way to her temples. Her skin was ghostly pale.

This wasn’t just any wandering spirit.

It was something darker.

A vengeful spirit. One consumed by rage and pain, feeding off negative energy, unable to pass on to the afterlife.

“No gods left in this ‘sacred’ place, huh?”

Her body wouldn’t move. In an instant, she collapsed to her knees before the spirit.

“You should’ve just set up an offering for me instead of praying,” the ghost sneered.

Never. No matter how abandoned she was, she couldn’t bring herself to serve a vengeful spirit. A shaman had pride. She’d be damned before she gave that up.

She knew all too well what fate awaited those who took in such beings.

“You’ve already fallen from grace as a medium,” the spirit hissed. “You don’t really think you’re going to paradise after all that, do you?”

The words hit her like a slap.

She remembered the young women she had offered up to wealthy families, blinded by greed. She knew it was wrong—she knew it would come back to her eventually. But she couldn’t stop herself.

Now, this spirit—this monster—knew everything.

“I could fix that pathetic leg of yours,” the ghost said, pointing a long, blackened nail at her right leg.

A searing pain shot through it. She screamed and clutched her leg as if it were burning.

The spirit laughed, delighted by her agony.

When the nail was withdrawn, the pain dulled—but the fear remained.

“I’ll give you all the wealth you crave.”

“What… do you want?” she gasped, teeth chattering from the cold and terror.

“I have nothing left. I can’t even help myself anymore…”

“Serve me,” the ghost commanded.

Her entire body felt like it was bound by invisible ropes. Not even a finger moved of her own will. The spirit wouldn’t leave until she agreed.

Sweat poured down her face. Her joints throbbed with pain.

“If… if I serve you… is that all?”

Her voice was dry and cracked like parched earth. Her vision blurred.

The evil energy choking the air was overwhelming.

The ghost’s long, ragged hair floated in the air, swirling around her. A black smoke began to fill the room, suffocating the shrine in darkness.

“I will give you a new, sacred name.”

“…”

“Geumhwa. From now on, you are Geumhwa.”

The moment the name was spoken, she collapsed like a rag soaked in water.

She blacked out.

When she came to, the shrine looked the same. Nothing had changed. Except—when she stood up—her right leg no longer limped.

***

These days, Seula had made it a routine to visit Hobun’s house and help him clean.

The place was a wreck. A gang boss he’d been tangled up with had brought his men and trashed everything. The house was a disaster zone. When Seula first walked in, she’d been speechless.

After days of hauling out broken furniture and cleaning nonstop, they finally cleared enough space for one person to lie down.

“Hobun, seriously, are you just going to let this go? What they did was criminal—breaking and entering, property damage… Are you hurt anywhere?”

She’d just helped him drag out what was left of a birchwood wardrobe, hands on her hips, fuming. But Hobun simply smiled, calm as ever. He didn’t seem interested in pressing charges.

“Let’s wrap up for today and head back to Tae-shin’s place. The day’s almost over.”

There was still a mountain of mess inside, but it seemed Hobun planned to stay with Tae-shin until the place was livable again.

As they stepped out and locked the gate, Seula still couldn’t let it go.

“How about we file both civil and criminal suits? Squeeze them for settlement money—those jerks deserve it. We could even get them on probation. Justice, Hobun!”

Her palms were red and sore from moving furniture, and her patience was gone.

But Hobun only replied gently, “They’re just sad, pitiful humans. What they really need is love. Maybe you can find it in your heart to forgive them?”

“You’re a fox, Hobun. I’m human. I can’t just magically grow a Buddha’s heart overnight.”

It felt like being told to bear the weight of a crown she was never given. Only a Buddha could act like one.

They walked down the alley, chatting as usual, until Tae-shin’s house came into view.

“If they come back, call me. I’ll show up with a hammer.”

“They’ll be the ones holding metal pipes. And sadly, I doubt you’d even be able to swing a hammer properly.”

As they stepped into the yard, Tae-shin suddenly appeared behind them.

“Stay out of that fox’s personal life,” he said in a low, sharp voice, right behind Seula’s ear.

Startled, Seula gasped and clutched her chest.

“Don’t scare me like that! At least make some noise when you walk! Where were you?”

He was holding a woman’s hanbok, wrapped in a clear plastic cover. In his other hand, a large shopping bag.

“What’s all that?”

Tae-shin hesitated, then tilted his head slightly.

“…Cosplay supplies.”

His expression said he was regretting everything.