After finishing his farewell, Noryang trudged forward step by step. Gangnim Herald extended his hand and lightly tapped Noryang’s shoulder with pale, slender fingers. In that instant, his body collapsed, and his soul slipped free.
Noryang had met his death.
The semi-transparent soul looked around blankly before approaching Dojin.
“Human. Thank you. The curio is in my pocket—take it.”
“…I really don’t get it. That lady will never know you stayed by her side your entire life, or that you risked your life to save her. Doesn’t that make you feel wronged at all?”
“That doesn’t matter. I don’t want Jisuk to recognize me. I just want her to sleep in without worry.”
“That’s exactly why I don’t get it. Anyway, follow the grim reapers properly. Don’t end up becoming a vengeful spirit halfway there, whining about how unfair and resentful it is.”
“You worry over nothing. Being collected by Gangnim Herald alone is an honor—why would I ever do something like that? Farewell, human.”
It was just as Noryang was offering his final goodbye.
“Hey, you said you like dried persimmons. Take the leftovers and stuff your face or something.”
Dojin hurled all five remaining dried persimmons from the feast table at Noryang. They passed straight through his soul and dropped to the floor.
“Dojin, go pick up the persimmons.”
“Yes….”
In place of his disciple, whose Taoist arts were not yet fully refined, Iri extracted the spirit bodies from the five dried persimmons one by one and handed them to Noryang. Cradling them in his arms, Noryang grinned broadly. It was the brightest smile Dojin had seen in the past twenty-five hours.
“Then I’ll be going now. I’ll see you on the next Gaechonil.”
“You’ll see me before then.”
“…Pardon?”
“There are things like that. Take care. Woljik Chasa, you all as well.”
“Yes. Farewell.”
“Farewell.”
Once the grim reapers departed, only one sleeping human, one Immortal, and one Jangsa remained in the house.
Dojin first gathered up the curio, then sidled up to Iri with a cute, sheepish grin.
“Master, you’re not angry. I thought you might scold me for causing such a big incident.”
“I told you I’d trust your judgment.”
“How far did you predict things would go? No matter what, you didn’t expect Gangnim Herald to show up, right?”
“I did think it would be better for Gangnim to come rather than the First Chasa.”
“Ah… yeah….”
According to rumors, the First Chasa always traveled with that King-candidate soul. If they had run into each other here, it would have been awkward for everyone involved.
“This won’t end up causing you trouble, will it, Master? Like Yama King nitpicking, saying an employee of Iri’s Curio Rental Shop interfered with underworld affairs or something….”
“More likely… they’ll tease me for stepping into a children’s quarrel.”
Iri looked genuinely embarrassed. Dojin, meanwhile, bristled at a different part of that statement.
“Children’s quarrel? You just called that a children’s quarrel? Where are you going to find a children’s quarrel of that high-level? I used Taoist arts pretty well, you know. And Gangnim Herald has, what, a thousand years of experience in Taoist duels? That was my first time. Taking that into account, it’s fair to say I basically won. Honestly, in my own book, I won.”
“Gangnim Herald went easy on you. His opponent was a living human with a decent amount of accumulated virtue, so he showed restraint.”
“…If that was restraint, then originally he must’ve—ah, no. Well, in the end, compared to you, Master, it was nothing anyway. Those blade barrages turning into beautiful, peaceful flower petals… Gangnim Herald’s probably lost all fighting spirit. He must’ve realized there was no way he could compete.”
“Dojin. What you’re saying right now is like praising an adult for winning an arm-wrestling match against a five-year-old, so that’s enough.”
Dojin blinked.
“That much of a difference…? But Gangnim Herald is a thousand years old.”
“I’m still sleepy, so I’m going to rest. Wake me after you clean up. I came on a Dragon Horse, so we’ll go back together.”
Iri reclined sideways on the sofa. Dojin found it a little abrupt, but since Iri was going to sleep, he went ahead and took a blanket from the wardrobe and carefully tucked him in. Then he surveyed the surroundings.
Looking at the living room, which had been turned into utter chaos, he finally understood why Iri had suddenly and urgently decided to sleep.
Cleaning up the leftover feast, the crumpled clothes, and the scattered shoes was, of course, Dojin’s responsibility.
‘That bastard Noryang—I should’ve made him clean before letting him die!’
It was a regret that came far too late.
5) Tongyeong Dokkaebi Village
Morning at Iri’s Curio Rental Shop was no different than usual today.
Dojin woke up early, finished preparing to receive customers, and brewed Iri’s favorite tea. Just as it reached the perfect warmth, Iri came down the stairs. The two sat side by side at the workbench overlooking the garden—their favorite spot—and drank tea together.
Sparse blossoms dotted the oak tree. Its growth cycle differed from other trees, blooming fully once every couple of months. Once fruit began to form, they planned to summon the smaller Wia and hold a large-scale food-sharing feast. Whether it was pruning branches or harvesting fruit, Iri always called the smaller Wia to celebrate, so the small mountain near the shop was perpetually swarming with them.
“Master, did you know? They keep finding nationally protected birds on this mountain, so scholars are watching it closely. Could it be the Wia transforming?”
“No. Wia rooted in plants and animals inherently possess the ability to purify environmental pollution. As the mountain becomes cleaner, animals naturally gather there.”
“So even the small-fry are useful. Then what about Wia rooted in objects—can’t they purify pollution?”
“They can’t purify environmental pollution, but they absorb nearby grudges, resentment, and malicious energy—distorted forces—and cleanse the area. That’s why some dokkaebi villages have roads leading to them that are breathtakingly beautiful and peaceful, yet the villages themselves are filled with resentment and ill intent.”
There were several dokkaebi villages throughout Korea—Cheonghak-dong in Jirisan, the caves of Yeongchun-myeon in Danyang, Taegisan in Hoengseong, Mireuksan in Tongyeong, and more. Dojin had met solitary dokkaebi—mountain dokkaebi, field dokkaebi, revelry dokkaebi—who lived alone rather than in villages, but he had never once visited a dokkaebi village.
“I really want to go at least once. Take me sightseeing this summer. It’d be perfect for a chilling summer horror special.”
“It’s not a tourist attraction…. And if you ever have reason to visit a dokkaebi village, it means something bad has happened, so it’s best not to have any reason to go at all.”
“Why? Do dokkaebi normally block visitors?”
“They won’t refuse if someone requests a visit, but they’re fundamentally closed-off and tend to handle most incidents among themselves. They almost never ask outsiders for help. Recently… it was only after apartment complexes were built and they lost their entire habitat that they finally asked where they were supposed to live.”
As human territory expanded, Wia losing their habitats became an increasingly common occurrence. In most such cases, Wia would immediately rush to the rental shop or a welfare center as soon as humans began encroaching on their domain. Dokkaebi, however, only sought Iri’s help long after their villages had vanished, the apartments were fully built, and humans had already moved in.
Put kindly, they were independent. Put unkindly—
“They’re foolish and stupid.”
“…Dojin.”
Iri gazed at him quietly. He wasn’t scolding him.
“You’re really trying not to swear anymore, aren’t you.”
Normally, Dojin would’ve said “fucking idiots”, but stopping at “stupid” earned him praise instead. Dojin lifted his chin proudly, nostrils practically flaring, as if it were only natural.
Meanwhile, time ticked past the customer’s reservation slot. As they sat sipping tea and waiting for the doorbell to ring, Iri’s phone vibrated instead.
[Apothecary]
Seeing the caller ID, Dojin quickly reached out and put the call on speaker.
—Immortal.
“Yeah, Apothecary.”
The Apothecary spoke in a somewhat urgent tone.
—This is sudden, but you should go to Tongyeong Dokkaebi Village. As soon as possible.
Even “as soon as possible” didn’t mean a shop owner could immediately shut down and leave. Iri considered leaving the rental shop in Dojin’s care and going alone, but since Dojin wasn’t yet ready to guard the shop by himself, they took care of the most urgent matters and then descended together through a “passage.”
The Apothecary divine spirit was waiting at the entrance to Mireuksan, their meeting point.
He was slightly taller than Iri, with pale skin and long brown hair tied back. In appearance, he looked to be in his early thirties.
“Apothecary.”
“Immortal. You’re here. Dojin, you’ve grown a lot. Hello.”
“Hello.”
“Let’s talk while we head to the village.”
The three walked along the mountain trail.
“By your command, Immortal, I traveled to various regions investigating the new plague, and I discovered that outbreaks have been occurring more frequently than expected.”
According to the Apothecary’s findings, the plague first appeared last December and spread across the Korean Peninsula, claiming anywhere from single-digit to triple-digit victims at a time. Most of the victims were yokai. The largest loss was 321 yokai-class earthworms belonging to the Butterfly Immortal. In this world, however, the mass death of 321 creatures was not actually considered a serious matter. In human terms, it was akin to saying, “321 spiders living in an abandoned school building died en masse.” Unusual, yes—but hardly significant enough for the government to launch an investigation.
Because it occurred on such a small scale, over short periods, and only killed yokai before disappearing, even nearby Mountain Divine Spirits failed to notice it. Had ten of the Butterfly Immortal’s spirit creatures not died recently, Iri might still be unaware of the matter now.
