As Giju Wishes Chapter 1.6

Shaman Chun grumbled as he made a phone call somewhere.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me. I need to do a purification rite. Call everyone. Oh, and we’re out of salt, so buy some on your way.”

While Shaman Chun was on the phone, Choi Geon finally looked around the inside of the shrine. Having had no connection whatsoever with shamans his entire life, Choi Geon found it all unpleasant even before it felt unfamiliar. The various deep colors, the Buddha statues, and the scent of incense did not sit well with him at all.

Still not letting go of his suspicious gaze, Choi Geon stopped in front of a giant Buddha statue. He had a staring contest with the lump of metal. Then he turned and watched Shaman Chun, who was bustling about in the yard, with a cynical gaze. Shaman Chun was placing things like fruit and rice cakes on the ritual table. In the center of the table was something shaped like a person, made of what looked like rice straw.

“Hey, come over here.”

After a moment, Shaman Chun called Choi Geon out to the yard. Then he brought something in a ceramic bowl from the wooden porch. Gazing at it with half-closed eyes, Choi Geon reluctantly stepped into the yard, crushing the heels of his shoes and dragging his soles.

Without any warning, Shaman Chun started vigorously sprinkling coarse salt all over Choi Geon’s body. Clenching his teeth, Choi Geon muttered a small curse and chose to look up at the sky instead. Inwardly, he threatened whatever god or being was out there that he wouldn’t let it slide if this had no effect.

As his rebellious gaze remained fixed on the sky, he heard the sound of the main gate opening a moment later. Turning around a beat too late, a group of men who looked like they lived in the neighborhood poured in. They gave the salt to Shaman Chun and went into a room with practiced familiarity.

“They’re the musicians. You know the basics of a shamanic ritual, right?”

Shaman Chun said to Choi Geon as he prepared mugwort water this time. Choi Geon silently watched the men bring out drums, hourglass drums, and other instruments from the room.

“Wait a sec.”

Having finished all the preparations in an instant, Shaman Chun went into the shrine and came out to the yard a while later, dressed in a white ceremonial robe and holding a bell in his hand. His face was much more reverent as he took a deep breath.

“Hoo… It might get a little chaotic, but don’t swear and just stay right here.”

Shaman Chun discreetly whispered to the disgruntled-looking Choi Geon. Then he gestured to the musicians with his eyes. The unplanned ritual had begun.

Thump-thump-!

The drum sounded.

“…Malevolent ghosts that kill and harm, wicked and presumptuous ghosts, defiling and mischievous ghosts, may you all be annihilated and perish….”

The sound of the small gong and drum blended with the bell in Shaman Chun’s hand, continuously filling the yard. Shaman Chun slowly began to unravel a knotted roll of white cotton cloth.

“In the mortal world of the living, where people are bustling and spirits roam among them, the human spirit is being captured, and for this, the Jade Emperor, in his great anger, has swiftly punished the world, but it is a time when ghosts and demons often invade….”

Having completely unraveled the cotton cloth, Shaman Chun recited the scripture and began to wash the human-shaped straw effigy by dipping a broom in water.

Clang-cha-cha-cha-clang!

The sound of the instruments grew louder. Accordingly, Choi Geon’s brow furrowed even more. Shaman Chun successively dipped the broom in mugwort water and incense water to wash the straw effigy.

“Heoi, heoi!!”

Soon, Shaman Chun picked up the bell and started hopping and circling around Choi Geon. With his pupils half-rolled back in a state of trance, he tapped Choi Geon’s body with the wet broom.

“Go, go! Follow the path and go! Ay, hey!”

Choi Geon clenched his fists tightly as he was hit with the broom. He chewed on the inside of his mouth. He was just enduring it, cursing about two thousand times in his head.

“A bridge is laid for you on the waters of the Samdo River, so cross it, go! Release all the resentments of a billion kalpas, wash away all the worldly affections and go! Leave your soul behind and go, whoosh, whoosh, away!”

The broom strikes started to get stronger. That beating method or whatever that guy used was probably better than this.

He endured and endured until finally, a hollow laugh escaped him as if he had lost his mind. Choi Geon looked up at the sky with dead fish eyes and recited curses like a scripture, just like Shaman Chun. He didn’t know why he was here getting beaten up by a stranger. This was the second time. He got beaten by that guy, and now he was getting beaten here again. Just you wait if this doesn’t work. He would perform a sword dance of his own.

“Go! Go! Go! Gaaah!”

Just then, Shaman Chun, who was enthusiastically performing the ritual, suddenly let out a sharp scream and fell backward. Only then did Choi Geon’s gaze shift from the sky to the collapsed Shaman Chun. It seemed it wasn’t a minor fall, as Shaman Chun was motionless. The drumming gradually faded and then stopped.

When he showed no signs of waking even after a long silence, the musicians, realizing the seriousness of the situation, hurriedly approached the unmoving, face-down Shaman Chun.

“Oh my goodness, Mr. Chun!”

“Get a grip, Mr. Chun!”

There was water at the fallen Shaman Chun’s feet. It was unclear whether it was water that had dripped from the broom or sprung from the ground, but Shaman Chun had slipped on it and lost consciousness. The chances of something like this happening during a ritual were almost zero. For a shaman to slip on water and fall during a ritual, when they receive the divine spirit most strongly.

This meant that a ritual of this level was nowhere near enough. The musicians, who had been in this business for over 10 years, realized that they needed to offer a rite that the evil spirit wanted. If they continued the ritual here, they might just incur its wrath. The quick-witted musicians exchanged glances.

“What is it. Wake him up, quickly.”

Choi Geon, not caring whether he was unconscious or not, tried to kick Shaman Chun awake. If he was going to beat him like this, he should at least finish the job.

“G-go home, student.”

“It’s over, it’s over.”

“What did you say?”

Choi Geon menacingly approached the musicians.

“No, this can’t be solved with a ritual. The shaman passed out, so it’s over. We can’t do more.”

“That’s right, student. If the shaman faints during the ritual, it’s over.”

The musicians, declaring amongst themselves that it was over, were already clearing up the ritual site.

“What?”

“Ah, leave the money here before you go.”

They didn’t let go of the money until the very end. The labor costs these days were quite high.

“Haha, you motherfu-.”

Letting out a hollow laugh, Choi Geon roughly ran his hands through his hair. His head grew hot from this clumsy, chaotic situation. The only thought that came to mind was that the guy with the crazy eyes had subtly made a fool of him. So this is how cults extort money these days. It was all a very organically connected network.

“Look here, student. Don’t feel it’s unfair… You still have to pay for the effort we put in…?”

One of the musicians was staring intently at Choi Geon, perhaps worried he wouldn’t pay.

“Money, right, I’ll give you the money.”

Choi Geon didn’t want to be in this place for even a second longer. If he stayed any longer, he might go beyond just throwing a fit and start grabbing people by the collar and beating them with the broom one by one.

“But if I see you on the street, you better know I’ll beat the shit out of you with a broom.”

He took a wad of cash from his wallet and threw it at the unconscious Shaman Chun’s face as if slapping him. Then he slung the bag that was on the porch over his shoulder and walked out the main gate.

“Ptooey!”

Even after spitting on the gate, Choi Geon’s anger didn’t subside, so he kicked the gate hard enough to break it.

‘Go to this place! You must!’

He wanted to destroy that guy right now.

“Ha… You’re dead.”

As he left the shaman’s house, his steps were like those of an enraged bull.

🔖⛩️📿

The next day, as soon as school ended, Choi Geon immediately hopped on his bike and sped off to Gurim High School. Gurim High was the high school Giju attended; although it was an autonomous private high school, it was just a shithole school that anyone and everyone attended. Rumor had it that there were many students who had been held back for several years.

Choi Geon remembered the school uniform Giju had been wearing. Therefore, finding out the school wasn’t difficult at all. Besides, he only had to go through a few friends to find a student from Gurim High. This meant he could find out everything, including what time their classes ended.

Choi Geon waited right in front of the school gate, timed perfectly for when Gurim High let out. He waited with fire in his eyes. He didn’t know what grade that guy was in, but he came early, even before the first-years, who finished relatively early, were dismissed.

After waiting for about 30 minutes, Choi Geon saw students coming out to the schoolyard one or two at a time. He squarely blocked the path of a nerdy-looking kid who was the first to approach the gate and spoke to him.

“Hey, how old are you.”

“M-me, I’m a senior… why?”

Overwhelmed by his tall stature and incredibly rough demeanor, the male student with glasses stammered in response, even though Choi Geon was speaking to him informally out of the blue.

“Uh, so am I. Is that,”

Casually claiming to be a friend, Choi Geon realized he didn’t even know the guy’s name.

“That…! That!! Don’t you know that bastard?”

A look that said how the hell would I know that was directed at Choi Geon.

“Damn it, doesn’t some mentally unstable bastard go here?”

The student with glasses fell into thought for a moment. Then, as if someone came to mind, he pushed up his glasses with his hand and answered.

“Uh… are you perhaps talking about Shin Giju?”

There were countless mentally unstable kids at this school, but the top of the bunch was, of course, Shin Giju. No one at Gurim High would disagree.

“That bastard’s name is Shin Giju?”

Seeing as the name came out right away, he must be a real professional quack. Choi Geon thought to himself that he was just a pitiful mouse caught in that trap.

“I-I think so…?”

For confirmation, Choi Geon asked once more.

“The cultist bastard who goes on about ghosts and whatnot.”

“Then that’s him.”

“Oho, so this bastard is already famous. What grade is he in.”

“Third year….”

“He’ll be out soon then?”

“Um… but a while ago, the kids from Class 1 all went somewhere as a group. They said they went to the back mountain for a field trip…?”

Choi Geon’s expectant expression crumpled.

“What?”

“They left in their gym clothes, so they’ll probably go straight home?”

An irritated sigh escaped. This school, which went to the back mountain for a field trip, was truly as crappy as its name suggested. After pondering for a moment, Choi Geon forced himself to rationalize the situation and shook off his annoyance. What difference was there between today and tomorrow? It was just that the bastard’s death day had been postponed to tomorrow.

“Tell that bastard to come to the alley by 5 o’clock tomorrow. He’ll know where if you tell him. Tell him to come whether he brings all his crazy, bullshit cultist friends or not. And tell him if he doesn’t show up, I’ll come find him in his classroom.”

Before turning away, Choi Geon brought his face right up to the other student’s and said.

“Make sure you tell him, friend.”