“Uuuhn…….”
Seeing that his mother didn’t reach out her hands, the baby went limp. He didn’t cry or throw a tantrum asking to be freed. His parents had never once granted such a request. The baby, drained of energy and slumped, turned his gaze back toward the window.
Through the rearview mirror, the husband and wife met each other’s eyes. Without a word, the baby’s parents shared one another’s pain.
The husband, Kim Sun-ho, had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth—the son of a CEO at a foreign trading company. His wife, Jung Eun-hee, had also grown up without hardship, raised by a hospital director father and a university professor mother. The two—having lived privileged lives—met, fell in love, married, and finally had a child. They had even chosen a fine name for their child—’Kim Dojin’—in advance.
And yet….
Eight days ago, when the baby was born, everything changed.
Not eight months ago—eight days ago.
The baby, who had grown normally in the womb with ordinary fetal movements, broke a nurse’s finger the moment he was born.
Once it became known that the baby possessed abnormal, monstrous strength, the couple had no choice but to flee the hospital as if escaping. Fortunately, Jung Eun-hee’s father found a trustworthy postpartum care center, but even there they couldn’t rest for more than two days. The baby didn’t just have immense strength—his growth itself was grotesquely fast.
He grew as if a single day were a whole month.
Neither Kim Sun-ho nor Jung Eun-hee, nor even the baby’s grandparents, could stroke or touch him. If you were kicked while changing a diaper, your bones would break instantly; if he grabbed your hair, you had to be prepared to have your scalp torn off.
But the baby was so beautiful.
Because he grew quickly, he also learned to speak quickly. Smiling brightly and calling out “Mama, Papa!” he was unbearably cute and lovable. That such a beautiful child couldn’t be held even once…. That reality—that they couldn’t even hold such a beautiful baby in their arms—made their hearts ache and tear apart.
Perhaps this sorrow might end today. Jung Eun-hee bit her lip. Blood seeped from lips already split and swollen. But even that pain was nothing compared to the ache of watching her child stare blankly out the window.
They arrived at the entrance of Bongmisan in Yeoju. It was a pitch-dark night without a single light, so once they got out of the car, they could see nothing at all. Jung Eun-hee immediately turned on her phone’s flashlight. Kim Sun-ho also got out, holding a torch.
“So… where do we go now?”
“They said they’d come to meet us. Maybe we arrived too early, and they haven’t come yet.”
Jung Eun-hee anxiously scanned their surroundings, while Kim Sun-ho took out the stroller.
Now they had to seat the baby in it, but the blanket hanging down to his shoulders worried him. Kim Sun-ho’s entire body was already covered in bruises.
“Papa.”
The baby called out softly, happy to see his father. Kim Sun-ho answered quietly, “Yeah,” then took a deep breath.
When he reached his hand toward the baby, the baby tilted his head in confusion. A normal baby would have recognized that he was being picked up, but having never been held before, he could only look puzzled.
With trembling arms, Kim Sun-ho lifted the baby and placed him directly into the stroller. Once his father’s hands left him, the baby’s expression drooped again.
Overwhelmed by guilt and pity, Kim Sun-ho couldn’t even properly meet his son’s eyes. Jung Eun-hee stepped closer, and the two embraced, comforting each other.
Time passed in silence.
Kim Sun-ho, who had been unconsciously bouncing his leg, checked the watch on his wrist.
“It’s been thirty minutes past the promised time.”
“You’re right…. They’re late.”
“Should we try calling?”
“Omiseonnyeo should be overseas right now…….”
“She didn’t give us the contact information of the person we’re meeting, did she?”
“No. She said it couldn’t be given out casually.”
“This is ridiculous…….”
Late at night, stranded on a mountainside, forced to wait for someone they couldn’t even contact. Left with no choice, the two tried calling the Immortal Maiden, but she didn’t answer.
Kim Sun-ho took off his coat and draped it over his wife, then turned his phone flashlight up to maximum brightness.
“There’s a famous temple around here, right? Let’s go there.”
“No. She said we have to follow the path guided by the dokkaebi from the entrance. Human paths won’t do.”
“…….”
“Let’s wait just a little longer.”
Dokkaebi, human paths, and all that nonsense. Kim Sun-ho felt suffocated and hopeless.
He’d lived his life without believing in any of this.
Some businesspeople were said to believe in shamans and superstition, but Kim Sun-ho and his family had never even dipped a toe into that world. Jung Eun-hee, too, born of doctors and scholars, had been the same—yet now she found herself uttering the utterly absurd word ‘dokkaebi’.
Even if it’s just a straw, we have to grasp it. To save our baby. To save Dojin. To hold this adorable child in our arms, even once.
“Then it’s better to stay in the car. We don’t know how long it’ll take, and waiting outside where we can’t see anything is dangerous.”
“Yes…. Let’s do that.”
“Th-that….”
As the two began pushing the stroller back toward the car, a small voice stopped them.
“That!”
The baby cried out brightly, smiling innocently as he pointed at something. The couple shone their flashlight in that direction, but there was nothing there—only tree trunks.
“Blue. Blue color! Mama, blue.”
“Blue…?”
“Blue fire. Mama, Papa. Blue fire.”
Blue fire.
Jung Eun-hee looked at her husband with trembling eyes.
They already knew that their baby could see things invisible to ordinary people. That was why they’d gone around meeting every shaman they could find.
The last one they’d met, Omiseonnyeo, had said the guide would be a dokkaebi. Then could the blue fire Dojin was talking about be a dokkaebi fire?
The two paused to discuss. Was what the child was seeing the guide? Or was it dangerous to follow something uncertain—could it be a malicious spirit trying to lure the child? They couldn’t rashly follow something invisible to their own eyes.
All the while, Dojin was busy admiring the strange blue flame he’d never seen before.
At an age when a baby should naturally be afraid, he felt no fear at all toward the eerie light. It wasn’t that he lacked emotion. There was simply no reason for Dojin to fear that unfamiliar blue fire.
Not just that flame—none of the strange, uncanny things that occasionally appeared frightened him.
Because he instinctively knew that he stood above them all.
The couple decided to follow the light they presumed to be dokkaebi fire. Unable to see it themselves, they watched Dojin’s reactions as they walked—and soon realized it had been the right choice. After passing along a narrow mountain path barely wide enough for a stroller, a paradise unfolded before them.
Bright sunlight, warm breezes, and fields filled with yellow and white flowers.
“My god…….”
Faced with a sight beyond belief, the two ordinary humans gaped in awe. Small butterflies fluttered everywhere, and fragrant floral scents brushed their noses. It was a peaceful place. In the middle of the field stood a wide, tall hanok with a tiled roof—surely the dwelling of the ‘Divine Spirit’ Omiseonnyeo had spoken of. Their destination.
Kim Sun-ho couldn’t believe this moment.
“Am I dreaming right now… or is this reality…?”
“We should go in there, right?”
“It seems we must…….”
Kim Sun-ho took the lead.
Dojin looked around with curious eyes. “Wow,” and “Ooh,” he exclaimed, giggling brightly—just like an ordinary eight-month-old baby.
The hanok’s main gate stood open. Perhaps because so much of the yard was occupied by large earthenware jars, it felt smaller than expected.
“There! There’s something there!”
Dojin reacted, staring toward the main quarters straight ahead. The moment Kim Sun-ho reached for the door handle, the door slid open with a creak.
Inside sat a white-haired figure dressed in elegant hanbok. No—while the hanbok was clearly women’s attire, the figure also seemed male. It was impossible to tell their gender clearly.
“Come in and sit.”
Though the white-haired being looked no older than their late twenties, the couple felt an overwhelming pressure they couldn’t ignore and followed the instruction.
For eight days, they had searched everywhere to make their son ‘normal’. In that short time, there was no one they hadn’t met—from shamans to Vatican exorcists to renowned neuroscientists.
No one could give a definitive answer about the child’s bizarre constitution.
Then, just the day before yesterday, they met Omiseonnyeo of Jirisan, a shaman said to handle the affairs of powerful figures in politics and business. They hadn’t sought her out—she had contacted them first. Like other shamans, Omiseonnyeo wore heavy makeup, and without even properly examining the baby, she thrust a talisman into their hands.
‘Attach this talisman to a rope and bind the child. He won’t be able to use his strength. Tomorrow night by ten, go to Bongmisan in Yeoju. Follow the guide there, and the Divine Spirit will be waiting.’
‘A Divine Spirit?’
‘That one is not a mere human shaman like me. He is a truly numinous Divine Spirit, so behave with proper respect.’
This white-haired being was that very numinous Divine Spirit.
Following the dokkaebi fire, night had turned into day, and mountains into open fields. Having witnessed it with their own eyes, there was no room for doubt.
After bringing the stroller into the room, the couple silently knelt before the Divine Spirit.
The Divine Spirit tapped the low table lightly with a finger, looking at Dojin. Dojin babbled something and squirmed, but he still couldn’t free himself from the ropes.
“The talisman is working, it seems.”
“Ah, y-yes…. Could it be that you are the one who made this talisman, sir?”
“No matter how great I am, I cannot make a talisman capable of suppressing the monstrous strength of a Jangsa.”
“Jangsa…? Then who made this talisman?”
“Wait. The one who made the talisman is on their way.”
“Is that person also a Divine Spirit?”
As if he’d heard something utterly absurd, the Divine Spirit frowned deeply.
“That being is someone incomparably sacred, beyond anything we could ever be measured against. You are far too ignorant—it would be wiser for you not to open your mouths carelessly.”
Chastened, the couple shut their mouths tight, afraid of offending him in any way. This might be their only chance to make Dojin ‘normal’, so no matter what happened, they had to be careful.
