“Why…… me?”
Jiyon asked, stumbling over the words.
“Why am I lying there?”
“Why are Mom and Jihyeon sitting there looking so gaunt?”
“Am I dead?”
“Was I a ghost?”
At her halting questions, Dojin sneered with a sulky expression.
“Does this place look like a morgue to you? Just look at you—you’ve got color in your face and you’re breathing just fine. What’s with the ghost nonsense? Do you even think before you talk?”
Without answering, Iri stepped closer to the bed and reached out toward Jiyon’s ‘body’ lying there. The moment his hand touched her forehead, Jiyon felt something searing-hot burst from the top of her head, and she shuddered violently.
“Ugh—what is this…….”
Though she was clearly burning hot, Jiyon wrapped her arms around herself, trembling as if she were freezing.
“H-how… why? Since when… what happened…? Ah, no. I don’t want this… I….”
Dojin clicked his tongue. The white thread connecting Jiyon’s body and soul was swaying wildly due to her agitation. Jiyon was currently in a state of a living spirit, but if that thread snapped, she would truly become a wandering soul. In other words, she would die.
What worried Dojin was the loss of ‘virtue’.
In the world of the Wia, virtue functioned as currency, energy, and power. Each time someone committed an evil act, a certain amount of virtue scattered away, which was why those in cultivation strictly avoided wrongdoing. Even minor acts such as swearing or lying counted as evil deeds.
Despite being in the process of accumulating virtue, Dojin had a foul mouth and was often rude to the Wia. That was because the amount of virtue he had to pay each time, like a fine, wasn’t very large.
But witnessing someone’s death right in front of you was a different matter. If you were involved in that person’s death, karma would form instantly, and all the virtue you had painstakingly accumulated would vanish in one fell swoop. Worse still, if someone became a wandering soul like this, there was even a chance they would evolve into a vengeful spirit.
As Dojin clenched his fist tightly in tension, Iri suddenly spoke up out of nowhere.
“Ms. Jiyon, maybe it’s because you’re familiar with this side of things—you’re not panicking as much as I expected.”
To anyone’s eyes, Jiyon was clearly in a state of panic. A dark bluish miasma was slowly seeping from her soul, and the white thread was thrashing as if caught in a violent storm.
And yet, the moment Iri said that……
“Ah… yes. I… I know about this kind of thing, so I’m not that shocked.”
Jiyon calmed down instantly.
All of Dojin’s tension became pointless in that moment.
This mysterious technique of Iri’s wasn’t a spoken incantation. Without saying a word, simply gazing steadily at Jiyon was enough to calm her. It was an ability all Immortals possessed, but Immortal Iri was said to be exceptionally skilled at it—so much so that even other Immortals would yield to him.
“Mom……”
Jiyon moved closer to her family. Her mother and younger sibling sat there with gloomy expressions, not exchanging a single word. On the small television, variety show entertainers were chattering noisily, but neither of them spared it even a glance.
The expressions of those with a sick loved one were usually like this—empty, as if their souls had left their bodies.
“A living spirit shouldn’t touch humans. Once you return to your body, you can hug them as much as you like.”
“How… do I go back? No, more than that… why did this happen to me? When did it even start…?”
Tears streamed down Jiyon’s face. The tears she shed in her living spirit state naturally faded away into nothing.
“You said you came to visit your neighborhood a week ago, right? There was a small traffic accident then. After the accident, your body was loaded into an ambulance and headed to the hospital—but the soul that should’ve remained within your body couldn’t pass through the ‘mysterious fog’ and slipped right out. Normally, you wouldn’t have been able to see the fog, but after an experience close to death, spiritual sight sometimes opens temporarily. Unfortunately, that happened to be the exact moment you saw the fog from our shop.”
“Your shop…?”
“Iri’s Curio Rental Shop. That’s the name of our store.”
“What kind of shop is it?”
“A shop that helps all things in the world using curios that naturally arise in nature.”
“Does ‘all things’ not include humans? Just… those Wia?”
“Of course humans are included too.”
Iri unfolded a fan painted with an ink wash.
Now that she looked closely, the painting depicted a mouse with a long tail.
“I’m planning to help you with this curio.”
Jiyon let her arms hang limply, a bitter expression on her face.
“So… when I go back, I’ll forget everything, won’t I? Is that why you’re explaining everything to me like this?”
“That’s right.”
“Can’t I remember it… even as a dream? Not even as a dream?”
“That’s impossible.”
Jiyon wept endlessly. But unlike before, she didn’t fall into panic or stubbornly insist that she didn’t want to go back.
Holding the fan open, Iri stepped closer to her. Jiyon bit her lip until it bled and spoke.
“I… I hate being ordinary. Going back to normal life… graduating elementary, middle, and high school, finishing college, getting a job. Becoming an office worker who just repeats commuting until retirement. That’s the path laid out for me. I don’t want to walk the same road everyone else walks. Even if it’s rough… I want to walk a special path…….”
Iri nodded, murmuring that he understood.
“You were born on the 20th day of the seventh lunar month. You served as class president for five years during elementary school. In middle school, you saved up your allowance to buy your mother an expensive birthday gift. In high school, you went on a trip with a friend.”
“…….”
“In college, you volunteered at an orphanage with your boyfriend. After graduating, you got a job after just three interviews. At work, every Monday you always start the day by wiping down your desk. You like the occult and are active in an unusual club. Out of 7.8 billion humans, there’s only one person like this—so how can that be ordinary?”
“What are you even saying? There must be tens of thousands of people born on July 20. Plenty of people were class president for five years. People who got a job after three interviews? There have to be hundreds of thousands. Even at my company, there are people besides me who wipe their desks on Mondays.”
“And those other people who wipe their desks on Mondays—were they also class president for five years in elementary school?”
“…….”
“There’s no one else in this world whose every trivial, ordinary experience overlaps exactly with yours. Even with a population of 7.8 billion, there’s only one. That alone makes you astonishingly special. Everyone in this world is unique in that way.”
“…….”
“And just the fact that you’ve had a conversation like this with me already means you’re no longer ordinary.”
“So what……. I won’t remember any of it.”
“If you live diligently in this life while accumulating virtue, then in your next life you’ll be able to choose, to some extent, the kind of life you want. For now, the first virtue you should build is easing the suffering of your mother and sibling.”
Jiyon disliked such vagueness. Rather than some distant future, she wanted to experience ghosts and Yokai here and now, in this reality.
But looking at her emaciated mother and sibling, she could no longer bring herself to shake her head.
At her faint nod, Iri smiled softly.
Jiyon wanted to say goodbye, but she chose not to. She wanted to hold on to the hope that they would meet again someday.
“Go back safely.”
Iri flicked the fan once toward Jiyon.
Her body gradually shrank, transforming into a white mouse. About the size of two adult fists put together, the white mouse scurried around for a moment as if confused, sniffing the air, but soon—as if it knew the path it had to take—it climbed up the bed leg and headed toward its own body.
The white mouse slipped into the ear canal.
Watching with a dissatisfied expression, Dojin stepped closer.
“Is it over? There’s no immediate change.”
“She’s been gone for quite a while, so she’ll need time to readjust. She won’t wake up right away. More importantly—did you see the color of that mouse?”
“Yes. It was white.”
“A white mouse soul is rare. She really wasn’t an ordinary human.”
“There’s someone way less ordinary standing right in front of you, Master.”
When Dojin muttered sullenly, Iri looked up at him and laughed as if he found him adorable. Dojin was shameless and slippery, but when Iri looked at him like that, he couldn’t help feeling embarrassed.
“Let’s head back now. We’ve got a lot of work today too.”
“Yeah.”
The two left the hospital room. It would be nice if they could return after Jiyon woke up and see her family rejoicing—but back at the rental shop, a mountain of work was waiting for them.
The small Wia lingering around the hospital flinched when they saw Iri and Dojin. Some approached out of curiosity, some watched warily from a distance, and some fled at once. Among them, those who approached out of curiosity were the most numerous.
Iri greeted the approaching Wia kindly. Dojin also put on a gentle expression. From the moment they’re born, Wia recognize ‘Immortal Iri’ and ‘Iri’s Curio Rental Shop’ naturally, without anyone telling them. Since all of them were potential customers, they needed to be treated kindly.
“Phew, seriously. Even pretending to be nice is exhausting.”
Only after getting into the car did Dojin let out a deep sigh. Iri smiled softly.
“You were pretending? I don’t think they felt that way.”
“Oh, come on, why would you say that? Do you know how hard I try, killing my temper and doing my absolute best for our dear Wia customers? Are you really going to say something so hurtful?”
“Let’s kill your temper just a little more.”
“If I kill it any more than this, you’re basically telling me to live without saying a word. Tch….”
Grumbling, Dojin started the car.
Smiling quietly at his disciple’s cuteness, Iri cast one last glance back at the hospital building.
