Chapter 199: Ch 199: Just as Promised
Jisan Village’s festival continued all night.
Outsiders could sleep in any of the completely open village homes,
enjoying free drinks and meat until morning. In the end, quite a few chose
to stay rather than leave.
"What’s going on?"
"Oh, there’s supposed to be some big event on the last day. Like... some
kind of ritual, I guess?"
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"Dunno. But I’m gonna film it and post them as Shorts."
The outsiders muttered idly, either staying up through the night or falling
asleep drunk in any random room.
And then, with the sun beating down brightly on the last day.
"Oh."
"I think it’s starting now."
[The fortune of Jisan arrives~]
At last, the ritual began.
Doong, doong, doong—
The traditional band pounded their drums, and the villagers lined up on
either side as if forming a path, creating a long corridor.
From the tile-roofed house.
To the village shrine.
And from the central tile-roofed house, at the start of this road, something
finally emerged.
[OChosenOnedeliveruntoustheblessingofJisanofthecountlesspeaks]
It was a massive human palanquin.
Four people, rooster feathers pinned to their chests and their heads covered
with plain cloth, carried someone upon it.
"Oh."
"Hey, hey, this is for real."
The outsiders chatted idly, only interested in the spectacle, but among them
were those whose eyes glimmered, watching in secret.
’This is a mess.’
Assistant Manager Eun Haje.
The one who had been called that by Kim Soleum observed the person atop
the palanquin and the movements of the villagers.
At this rate, it looked like her task here on behalf of the project team would
proceed smoothly.
Her sharp gaze turned to the outskirts.
Toward the well on the edge of the village, surrounded by abandoned
houses.
’The well.’
That was the objective of her assignment.
The agents of the Disaster Management Bureau still hadn’t figured out
exactly why the villagers left them alone near the well, or why it was
relatively safe there. They’d even checked it when it wasn’t festival season,
only to find it just an ordinary blocked well.
But this ’reporter’ knew the exact reason, and what needed to be
investigated.
That well had once been a passageway, connected to somewhere else.
And during this strange festival, the entire village itself became a high-level
zone of Darkness, and sometimes, the passage would come alive again.
So she had to proceed with the investigation now.
However...
"..."
After glancing once at Kim Soleum who was riding atop the human
palanquin, the reporter quietly began to move. Not toward the well between
the abandoned houses, but in another direction.
[OChosenOnedeliveruntoustheblessingofJisanofthecountlesspeaks]
Meanwhile, the palanquin procession continued on.
The traditional band opened the way, and as the palanquin passed, villagers
bowed in reverence. Some staggered after it with feverish devotion.
But they always kept a certain distance, as if coming closer was not
permitted.
The problem was, there were some for whom that rule didn’t matter.
"Wow! Look, this is the first time in decades they’ve held this event!"
A few outsiders, holding up their smartphones, came right up close.
Those who were drunk or had lost their judgment didn’t keep their distance,
some even tapping the head-shrouded villagers carrying the palanquin.
These people had only come for the free food and drink at the village
festival.
But the villagers didn’t stop them.
They only watched with smiling faces, eyes fixed anxiously on the safe
progress of the palanquin.
"Ooh, not bad for a countryside festival."
"They’re pros. Total pros."
The villagers didn’t get upset.
They simply watched with earnest eyes to make sure the palanquin reached
its destination unharmed.
"..."
Finally, the human palanquin reached the village shrine without incident
and stopped.
Those who’d been carrying it carefully lowered the ’raffle winner’ they’d
been bearing on their shoulders. Two of them approached the shrine.
Then, they cut the golden rope around the shrine.
Tuk.
The golden rope fell to the ground. The two remaining people untied the
golden rope around the feet of the one who’d ridden the palanquin, and
hung it up again at the shrine.
Then, the doors of the shrine were opened.
Inside was...
"The doors are opening! Wow! Look at that! Gold!"
A golden rooster.
The golden rooster statue that had been the ’special prize’ was enshrined
inside the village shrine. And its size was enormous.
"Isn’t that just gold-plated though?"
"Crazy."
It sat atop a round wooden pedestal, right in the center of the shrine where
the altar should have been. It was, quite literally, the size of a person.
Apart from awe, greed sparkled in the outsiders’ eyes.
Most of them hardly noticed that behind the gold, the shrine’s original pole
had been stuck upside down, just like the sticks in the lottery box.
[OChosenOnedeliveruntoustheblessingofJisanofthecountlesspeaks]
The one who had ridden atop the palanquin finally moved.
As the figure in white stood in front of the shrine, the villagers stepped
forward one by one, covering the white robe with pieces of paper.
The papers were densely inscribed with writing in both Hangul and Hanja.
They were the villagers’ names.
And then, after three deep bows, they poured out a bottle of liquor over the
top.
Jrrrrrk.
As the sacred liquor washed over it, the ink on the papers began to run and
the writing disappeared, seeming to seep into the robe itself.
"MaywebefreedfromthetruthoftheworldOfortuneofJisanOChosenOne."
"MaywebefreedfromthetruthoftheworldOfortuneofJisanOChosenOne."
"MaywebefreedfromthetruthoftheworldOfortuneofJisanOChosenOne."
The villagers bowed, prayed, wept, raising their hands and crying out to the
sky, pouring out old, deep terror and desperation.
The intensity and desperation couldn’t even be drowned out by the
pounding of the traditional band.
"Uh..."
"Hey. This feels kinda off."
Most of the outsiders began to draw back awkwardly, finally sensing
something was wrong...
And then.
"Should we get a closer look at that gold statue? But what’s this, there’s this
fragrant... is that the smell of alcohol...?"
Tuk.
It was the moment someone holding up a smartphone stepped into the shrine.
"Huh?"
[OChosenOnedeliveruntoustheblessingofJisanofthecountlesspeaks]
The golden rooster began to melt.
Bubble, bubble—
As if making that very sound, the rooster melted, gold spreading through
the groove in the floor of the shrine...
Soon, it touched the foot of the one who had dared to enter.
Golden liquid.
"..."
The outsider, staring blankly down at his foot, opened his mouth.
"I see it now!"
Thud.
The smartphone fell to the floor.
"Theworldis■■!Wearenothingbutone■■inscribedwithinit!"
"Pleasedontlookatmedontlookatmedont■■atme!"
"IhavevalueIminterestingarentI??ImnothereWhatisthis?What?Ireum-nim?"
Madness began to spread like a contagion.
"W-What’s going on?"
"What’s wrong with those people?"
People on the edge of the crowd recoiled in shock, some even craning their
necks to see better.
But it was already too late.
"Aaagh!"
In the end, most people fell into confusion.
Some screamed, others muttered senselessly, or just sat there staring
blankly, their eyes emptied out.
A scene where madness and eerie calmness coexisted.
But the villagers paid them no mind.
They’d already seen far too many outsiders fall prey to the truth revealed by
the sacred liquor, too many destroyed by that terrifying revelation.
To them, outsiders were nothing but outsiders.
And the families of Jisan Village... Only they could escape such a fate.
Because, at the end of this long Jisan festival, which they had prepared so
devotedly for so many years.
[He comes!]
It would be only the chosen, who had devoted themselves to the rite for
decades, waiting for Jisan’s fortune, who would be delivered.
"A new pole will be erected in the shrine!"
The clamor of gongs drowned out the frenzy.
The chosen one, the raffle winner, walked calmly toward the shrine in the
midst of this storm of madness.
With the golden stick, the special prize, in hand.
If they simply planted that small stick in the golden liquid left behind by
their predecessor, they would themselves become the fortune of Jisan,
dissolving into the shrine.
A sacrifice—or rather, a god—who would bring liberation from the
terrifying truth of the world.
The villagers would escape from this monstrous, cruel world, dodging
calamity and reaching deliverance!
But then...
...
"Everyone."
It was a civil servant’s flat voice.
"This procedure is all wrong."
"...?!"
The chosen one looked at the golden stick in his hand and let out a sigh.
"At this rate, you’re all doomed. In your own words, you might say
’misfortune will befall you’."
A deathly silence fell.
Then, a wailing voice cried out.
"The fortune of Jisan is trying to deceive us and run away!"
"Dunno about that."
The figure in white slowly raised both hands toward the sky.
"But I know the truth."
Speaking in their language, he continued.
"I was cleansed with sacred liquor and awakened to the truth of the world.
I, who drew the golden stick and will be enshrined as the fortune of Jisan,
already know."
The truth.
"You have twisted the teachings. Maybe you read a few pages of an
unknown scripture somewhere, or stole bits and pieces of doctrine and
misunderstood it."
Confusion.
Moans and muttering from those who couldn’t understand.
"What did you think liberation from the truth of the world meant? Escaping
from the cruel, painful, and unreasonable reality of this world, evading
disaster under the protection of the fortune of Jisan, and living freely as the
chosen exceptions?"
The villagers looked up.
Their actions betrayed agreement.
"I thought so. In that case, let’s begin here."
Kim Soleum spoke.
The sure knowledge he possessed.
The most important doctrine of the Church of the Luminous Unknown.
Its first teaching.
"There is no freedom in this world."
"This world belongs to Ireum-nim. It holds meaning only when one is
chosen by Ireum-nim, and one must recognize this truth and cultivate and
sow the seeds of origin in the world, striving to be worthy of that choice.
"Your free will is meaningless. Only the will and the selection of Ireum-nim
hold significance."
"Those too weak to accept this truth may seek escape through death, but
that is no true salvation."
Thus, he declared.
"There is no escape from Ireum-nim."
...
"These words are liberation."
Deathly silence.
The chosen one, the strange figure in white, looked around at the villagers
and asked,
"Do you refuse to accept this?"
No.
No.
Impossible!
"In that case, choose another auspicious day and prepare another form of
festival and ritual. Because the fortune of Jisan you summoned by these
means—"
He pointed to himself.
"—Was me."
The fate of outsiders’ disappearances and deaths, the sacrificial ritual
disguised as a lottery.
Cries and moans of "No," "Impossible," "We are tainted, we are impure"
broke out from all sides.
But they could not kill the chosen one before them.
If he died in this village, he would become the new god.
That was the procedure.
In the end, they simply had to let him go.
"Aaagh!"
The traditional band staggered, people collapsed everywhere.
The village festival ended in chaos and ruin.
And Kim Soleum, the chosen one who brought about this ending, who
succeeded as always with his specialty of informational and psychological
warfare...
’As expected.’
...Just watched with heavy eyes.
Bereft of joy.
I knew it would turn out like this.
I looked around at the mad scene.
This was indeed a ghost story under the Church of the Luminous Unknown.
But it wasn’t a place that had ever taught the true doctrine properly.
Probably on purpose.
’They must have been ’experimenting’, making this village perform a
clumsy ritual so it would develop its own unique ghost story.’
To understand the process in detail, I needed Baek Saheon’s help.
I had to figure out exactly how the ritual worked, and what teachings they
served.
And.
It was only possible because Baek Saheon manipulated another villager
who had drawn a golden stick, giving me enough time through the night to
hear and analyze all of this.
’Did he already pick up another brainwashing item in the meantime?’
I didn’t care to take it back anymore.
It was pointless anyway.
At any rate, I was able to clearly identify their errors...
And since all my knowledge of the Church of the Luminous Unknown was
real, the villagers were even more easily swayed.
As for me, since I already knew what that so-called ’truth of the world’
meant, I wasn’t affected at all...
Of course, all of it was information I’d already read on the wiki.
Anyway.
’From now on, the villagers of Jisan will all argue over what’s right, each
believing what they want, fighting amongst themselves.’
If a split like this occurs, their unity will weaken, and a vulnerability will
appear, so the Disaster Management Bureau should be able to take action
before next year’s festival.
So, before this commotion settles, I should slip away too.
The festival is over.
The village has rejected me as the raffle winner.
So, probably... I’ll be safe even if I leave the village.
"..."
I tried to walk out of the shrine.
Splash.
A ripple of golden liquid spread from my step.
This must be the golden rooster.
From the color, it seemed that the round wooden base beneath it hadn’t
melted, so it was probably still on the floor.
’Only the gold melted...’
Thunk.
"..."
I stopped in my tracks.
Thunk.
The ground was shaking. No.
Thunk.
The floor.
It split open, and the golden liquid poured down below.
"...!"
I threw myself out of the shrine, barely escaping the collapsing floor in
time.
And between the cracks in the round wooden base...
A transparent liquid surged up.
Sacred liquor.
...!
I realized.
’The golden rooster statue was a weight stone.’
And the round wooden board wasn’t its base at all...
’It was a lid.’
That golden statue had been pressing down something buried beneath the
shrine, preventing it from surfacing.
A gigantic jar of liquor.
And inside, something had been sleeping, bound.
It awoke upon hearing my ’true’ doctrine.
Chararararak.
The sound of countless legs dragging across the floor.
Aaaaah!
A long body burst out from the transparent liquid.
A thing writhing, covered in countless legs.
A massive centipede that had been inside the liquor jar.
Aaaaah!
But all those legs were human arms.
Praying hands.
Palms pressed together.
The face, with flat features resembling a human’s, moved its holes as if
mimicking a face.
It resembled the depraved, heretical monks from old folktales.
...These were characteristics I could recognize.
Centipede Sage
A ghost story that transmits the teachings of the Church of the Luminous
Unknown. It is said that, upon being recognized by a certain clergy member
who was inspired by the power of stories inhabiting lowly creatures, this
entity began to foster mutated followers throughout the world.
But now, its body was already half-rotten.
The arms protruding outside the shrine were corroded by liquor, by the
liquid.
Its eyes had melted.
There is a folktale that, in a rural village, the teachings of this being were
misunderstood, leading to its capture and confinement within a liquor jar,
with the villagers using the resulting liquor for their rituals.
So that was it.
This was the entity that had brought the doctrine here.
To appease it, they placed chicken symbols—its favorite prey—around the
village.
But apparently, it hadn’t done any good.
Aaaaah...
Ireum-nim.
That thing, having fallen deep into the doctrine of the Church of the
Luminous Unknown, cannot be reasoned with or communicated with.
It only delivers doctrinal teachings and enlightenment.
Truths that cannot be described, violently.
There is no nirvana, no liberation.
This is the truth of the world. Eternal liberation approaches. At the end of
the degenerate era, offer up your pain, loss, and madness, spit out your
bones, and you will gain eternal life. That is the true form of the Way, and
it is the law with priceless worth.
I must respond.
I know that.
But...
’Do I really have to?’
I let my arms drop.
...I’m tired.
I don’t even know how many times this has happened.
How long do I have to keep doing this?
In my head, I tell myself I just have to hold out for one month, just win my
wish, but...
As I listen to that centipede’s horrific preaching, a part of me is crushed by
the thought: does it really matter?
Would it really matter if my body was crushed?
Maybe I...
"Agent Grapes."
A large hand gripped my shoulder.
I turned my head.
A determined face, shining eyes.
Agent Bronze was there.
"I’ve come back on time, just as promised. ...And I told you."
When I return...
"I’ll come back with a way to save you."
He squeezed my shoulder.
"According to the rules."
That...
"In this kind of supernatural disaster, two agents are always dispatched to
rescue the requester."
Agent Choi’s blade drove down through the shrine’s roof, and dokkaebi fire
erupted ferociously.