“Sinhwa Kim was on the phone with Tudor at that very moment.
Rain poured down.
Lightning cracked across the dark sky.
The rainwater rose waist-high on the streets.
Black skyscrapers stretched toward the heavens, their gaudy neon lights slicing through the gloom.
KRAAAASH—
Hyun-deok Jang’s call van plowed through the waves flooding the road.
“AAAHHHH!”
Minutes? No, hours had passed, and he still screamed. He thought he had no strength left to scream, but another howl burst from his throat.
His head throbbed. His forehead burned from the cold he’d had for days. He couldn’t think straight.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Someone pounded on the roof of the van.
“AAAHHHH!!”
Hyun-deok Jang screamed again and glanced in the rear-view mirror. Aagh—why did he look?
Figures like demons clung to the body of his van. Palm prints and faces plastered against the rear window, those mad eyes—those eyes!
The people clinging to the vehicle cried out in chaos.
“Open the door! Please! Open the door!”
“Take me with you! Please! Please!”
At first, it sounded like cries for help, but judging by their expressions and ragged clothes, they were anything but. If he opened that door, they’d kill him. He’d really die.
Jang slammed his foot on the accelerator, trying to speed up, but it was like driving through water. No matter how hard he pressed, the speed wouldn’t increase.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
“Stop pounding, you idiots! This is bulletproof glass!”
“Let us in! Let us in!”
“EEK!!”
“GAAAHHH!”
They refused to stop. Their shouts twisted into inhuman shrieks and wails. Aagh—save me!
RUMBLE—
Where was he? The waist-deep flood made it impossible to tell. Was he on the road? On the sidewalk? Or...?
RUMBLE—
“AAAHHH!”
A wave crashed in from the side and shoved him to the left. The van tilted in an instant. It flipped over!
Inside the rolling call van, Hyun-deok Jang thought to himself:
‘How on earth did this happen?’
Two weeks ago.
“Do I have a fever?”
Driving the call van, Hyun-deok Jang pressed a hand to his forehead. It didn’t feel like a cold or flu, but there was a slight heat in his brow.
“Ah, could it be... that thing? Heh heh...”
The fever of love.
Just thinking of her made his heart race and his cheeks burn. He’d never felt this way before.
He was driving from Ansan to Paju. Almost there. Would he see her today, too?
On the passenger seat lay the gifts and letters from his younger siblings.
They weren’t much—crumpled paper crafts, hastily drawn pictures.
“My sweet little rascals.”
He neatly stowed them on the dashboard.
It’s all thanks to you kids. Soon I’ll introduce you to her.
He couldn’t help chuckling. He was riding what they called a “some” with a certain woman.
They’d known each other less than a week.
He met her while picking out gifts for his siblings at the orphanage in Ansan.
“Looking for something?”
Those had been her first words to him. When he saw her, he’d simply thought she was beautiful.
“Oh, I need quite a few... my siblings are many, and I’m not sure what they’d like.”
He thought his answer sounded clumsy, but she kindly replied.
“Nowadays there are products for every age group. I’ll help you choose.”
“Ah—thank you.”
By the end of that day, he and she had somehow grown close.
She introduced herself as Yeon.
“Yeon?”
“Yes. Please call me that.”
What an unusual name. A strange name. A pretty name—yes, that was it.
“That’s a lovely name.”
A pseudonym, perhaps? But it didn’t matter. This was Paju, after all.
Some people always wore masks here. He’d accepted that without question; a fake name was nothing.
Most of the women Jang met because of his job were as aggressive as Sinhwa Kim, as personality-fractured as Sinhwa Kim, or as mentally unstable as Sinhwa Kim.
In a good sense, they were heroines, but too fearsome for him to relax around.
Compared to them, Yeon was...
‘She’s human. She’s a person.’
Monsters and death, madness and desire—this dreadful city. And here he found someone so pale, gentle, refined, innocent, and beautiful.
She always offered a shy, modest smile and listened intently.
“You’re amazing!”
“You’re so cool!”
“Can we... meet again?”
They exchanged numbers and chatted all night on messenger.
Sinhwa Kim still hadn’t contacted him.
‘I guess I can play a little more.’
Yeon was curious about everything.
She studied many subjects and, fitting for a citizen of Paju, was fascinated by religion and mystical experiences.
“Really? You were a troubleshooter?”
She was amazed that he was a strong, remarkable troubleshooter active in Paju.
‘Uh, that’s not quite it.’
But he wasn’t far from a troubleshooter, so maybe it was close enough.
She responded enthusiastically when he said he’d learned magic, cheered at tales of him exploring the unknown in Tanhyeon, and was moved by stories of him defeating terrifying monsters to save Paju’s citizens.
‘Heh heh. Women really do turn for rough, mysterious men living on the edge of adventure and danger, huh?’
Today was their date.
Yeon greeted him with a bare, clean face and neat clothes.
“I’ve missed you.”
“Uh...”
“Oh? Why do you look like that?”
“Ah—nothing.”
He was momentarily dazed by her beauty.
His cheeks and forehead burned. Oh no, his face must be red.
He strained to keep from looking pathetic as the date began.
“You smell nice.”
“Oh—this smell? I, uh, I put on cologne earlier.”
He shrank back, mortified. He’d sprayed enough air freshener to mask his cigarette odor.
“Hm—this isn’t just cologne.”
Yeon leaned her face toward his chest.
‘Aagh—’
Hyun-deok Jang blushed and hesitated.
She looked up from his chest and met his eyes.
“It’s a nostalgic, wondrous scent. Really nice.”
“I-I-I see.”
He avoided her gaze. Yeon continued.
“What do you do on weekends?”
“Well, fitness and mental training are important. I read, and, uh, I exercise.”
“Wow, really? That’s impressive. What kind of exercise do you like?”
Exercise? He didn’t exercise. On days he didn’t have time to visit the Ansan orphanage, he just lay at home watching thirty-second thrill videos on repeat.
“Uh, so—”
He remembered something from a video.
‘The best sport to appeal to the opposite sex is tennis.’
“-Tennis?”
“Really? I love tennis, too!”
Yeon lit up. He’d done it. The internet had the answer again. Before he could speak, she said:
“Would you like to join the tennis club I go to?”
“Uh? A tennis club??”
He didn’t know how to play tennis, didn’t care about it, and hated meeting people.
Spending a leisurely weekend playing tennis with social butterflies? Ridiculous—
“Come on, is that no good?”
Yeon’s eyes sparkled as she looked at him.
“Ah—of course. I’ve always wanted to join such a club. I guess I’m one of those... social types.”
One week ago.
Did he overdo it at that tennis club or whatever?
His forehead burned again. Not a high fever, but definitely hot. Not a cold or body ache—so what was it?
“Crrr—coo, sniff, sniff.”
The small, wizened troubleshooter in the back seat made grotesque noises. Jang sighed inwardly at the sight.
‘Why are all my regulars like this?’
Still no word from Sinhwa Kim.
He’d mostly turned away other clients lately, though he hadn’t signed an exclusive contract with Sinhwa Kim. It was just that Sinhwa Kim paid well ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) and called him irregularly, so he cut back on regular business.
But if old clients contacted him, he’d pick them up.
Today was one of those days.
“It stinks. You’ve got a curse on you.”
“Pardon?”
The troubleshooter in the back seat complained and pulled something from his filthy bag.
A small bag of pills.
‘Ugh. Why are they taking that in my car?’
They were called Nirvana, a psychotropic drug used by mad clients. The “Night Owl” swallowed a pill, blinked, and—
“Ahem, hmm, ahem.”
A strange glint entered the Night Owl’s unfocused eyes.
He then pulled a mask from his bag and fitted it over his face. It was less a mask and more a gas mask with filters.
‘I miss the wizard.’
This client was a regular, but also someone he’d been too scared to refuse. Known as the Night Owl, active since the Great Collapse.
In some ways, more ominous and frightening than Sinhwa Kim.
“Ugh—ha.”
The Night Owl’s breathing through the gas mask grew more menacing.
“Ha—ha. You’ve got shin-byeong.”
“Shin-byeong? What’s that?”
‘Shin-byeong’—the illness of the gods.
“Oh, it’s what shamans get.”
“No—it’s what you get before or after receiving a god.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
“Ha—ha. You’ve got shin-byeong.”
What nonsense was this?
But Jang was a pro. He forced a polite smile to deflect the client’s nonsense.
“Ah—yes, of course.”
“Ha—ha. I can introduce someone to hold a rite for you—for ten million won.”
“No, I’m fine.”
His smile vanished.
This was a classic cult trick: lure someone in, then trap, brainwash, and extort.
This guy had hallucinations, nonsense, drugs, and now cultism. He’d gone too far.
I’ll drop him off today and never pick him up again.
“We’ve arrived. Please get out.”
“Ha—ha. Even if you ignore the god-illness, you should remove that curse.”
“Ah, yes. I go to a temple. I’ll make an offering and consult the Buddha.”
“Ha—ha.”
The Night Owl cocked his head and stared at Jang.
That madman’s hollow gaze. He looked long enough to be unsettling, then nodded briefly.
He withdrew something grotesque from his coat.
‘That’s....’
A large rat doll.
Jang’s heart leaped, ready to scream, but realized it was just a doll and clamped his mouth shut. It was a rat plush missing its left arm and stuffing.
The Night Owl cradled the rat doll against his chest and whispered, as if speaking to it in secret.
“Told you it’s best not to get involved? You were right. Scary... so scary.”
Jang froze, unable to express his disgust.
Ah—why are all my regulars like this?
The Night Owl got out of the van.
Jang rested his head on the steering wheel, unable to start the engine immediately.
“Ugh, this sucks.”
Maybe he should retire; sign an exclusive contract with the wizard. Would the wizard hire him on salary?
Work hard under the wizard and escape this mad town.
No—he’d immigrate. How much more would he need to earn to take his siblings abroad?
“Tch. I wonder when the wizard will return?”
How long could he rest?
The wizard was great, but his schedule was too unstable.
It hadn’t mattered before, but now it did.
Because of Yeon.
“Heh heh heh heh—”
He was meeting her tonight.
His reflection appeared in the rear-view mirror: stringy, faded blond hair plastered with rain, piercings dangling from his ears, and a ridiculous grin.
‘Huh, I’m handsome.’
He was, though his forehead and cheeks were flushed.
“I should put on some BB cream or something.”
Tonight wasn’t just any date. It was a more important evening.
Yeon wanted to introduce him to her friends.
“They’re from my church, right?”
He still had time.
Maybe he’d stop by home to change clothes. Put something on his face.
‘Church, huh.’
She was completely different from anyone he’d met before—no cults, no shamans, no black magic obsessives.
How could someone so perfect exist?
“Ha ha, maybe I’ll start going to church, too.”
What was the name of her church?
As he drove, Hyun-deok Jang thought.
“Hm, Hwang... was it Hwangjin Church? Hwangmin Church? Hwangrin Church?”
