As Giju Wishes Chapter 3.3

Choi Geon, who had been staring blankly at Giju’s face, turned away again without answering. He furrowed his brow, thinking to himself that he’d been thoroughly bewitched by the haunted house. It seemed he had to get out of here quickly. He should go shoot some pool to exorcise himself.

The unresolved bewilderment and displeasure melted away with the traditional sweets, sliding down the back of his throat. Hopping over the wall and onto his bike, Choi Geon sped off faster than usual.

🔖⛩️📿

Whoosh-

Facing the damp summer wind with a displeased expression, Choi Geon stared at the rusty gate. Like a da capo, he had ended up here again. Of course, this was his destination, and he had come of his own volition, but there wasn’t a single likable thing about this place, and it always left him feeling foul whenever he came.

“Shaman Cheon!”

Giju, who was next to him, shouted loudly toward the gate. Hearing that voice, Choi Geon shoved the cash in his pocket deeper. This was, after all, a place that would rob you blind right before your eyes.

Thud, thud-

The sound of slow footsteps came from inside, and soon the gate opened.

“Oh, you boys are here.”

Shaman Cheon, speaking in an exceedingly benevolent tone, smiled warmly with a face that looked much healthier than before.

“I’m sorry for calling you so suddenly when you’re busy.”

“Aigoo, don’t say such things between us.”

Shaman Cheon firmly shook his head at Giju, who spoke with utmost apology. To Shaman Cheon, Choi Geon was a rolling gold nugget, and Giju was the horse that dragged the gold nugget in. Shaman Cheon had never seen such a golden goose in his life. Something about it was a bit fishy, but in the end, all that fishiness was money.

Usually, a golden goose like that, unlike ordinary people, would pay whatever was asked. He could probably cough up enough for five servings. Suppressing the smile that was about to creep onto his face, Shaman Cheon gestured with his eyes for them to come in.

“The corners of your mouth are about to reach your ears.”

Shaman Cheon, who had turned his back, flinched. The kid looked like a bit of a punk, and sure enough, his intuition was no joke.

“How could you say that, Geon. The shaman is very busy, but he made time for us on purpose.”

“Must’ve taken out a huge loan.”

Though he whispered from behind, it was all audible. Shaman Cheon flinched once more at the ghost-like Choi Geon.

“A person has to make a living to be able to help people in need like this. My grandma always said shamans are originally poor misers.”

Choi Geon quietly looked down at Shaman Cheon’s sneakers, which had a luxury brand logo peeking out from between the long shaman robes.

“Poverty is all dead and gone, I see.”

“Hmph, ahem!”

Shaman Cheon deliberately entered the shrine with an exaggerated gesture and sat down. Giju then knelt on the cushion opposite him and pulled the still-displeased Choi Geon down to sit.

“You know it’s double the price as promised, right?”

“What promise?”

A face that looked like it was hearing this for the first time stared at Giju.

“Ah, I guess I didn’t tell you. I offered double to get an appointment quickly. The shaman heard the story and told us to come as soon as possible… Don’t worry, I’ll chip in if you’re short.”

Choi Geon thought he needed to pick a day and go through Giju’s bank account. This was sufficient evidence of a kickback.

“Since it’s not a full-blown ritual, it’s quite cheap, you know? Hoho~”

“He even gave us a friends-and-family discount.”

Giju said with a happy expression, as if it were a relief. But stuck between these people who had problems with their brains, Choi Geon found it hard to stay sane.

“Ah, shit, my head hurts.”

“Let’s see, the date of birth is….”

Pretending not to notice Choi Geon clutching his forehead, Shaman Cheon flipped through his notebook and confirmed Choi Geon’s birth date, which he had written down. Watching this, Giju raised a hand and whispered into the ear of Choi Geon, who was sitting in a very insolent posture.

“Geon, you have to be honest about everything the shaman asks. Everything you can think of.”

Startled by the sudden whisper, Choi Geon flinched and roughly rubbed his ear as if it tickled. Seeing this as a sign of nervousness, Giju whispered once more to reassure him.

“But it doesn’t seem like a big deal, so don’t worry~”

Giju lightly patted Choi Geon’s arm, his eyes sparkling with a ‘You trust me, right?’ look. With a sour expression, Choi Geon wondered just how much this guy had been paid by Shaman Cheon.

“Shaman Cheon, the thing I told you about on the phone… I’m curious if it’s nothing serious or if it’s dangerous. It’s probably nothing serious, right?”

“Hmm….”

Giju, who had spoken to Shaman Cheon as he scanned a tattered book as if searching for something, hesitated before adding.

“Actually, I don’t think it’s very good, so please tell me what it is.”

Choi Geon looked at Giju as if he were a psycho.

“You’re saying it feels like something is still attached even after we got rid of the evil spirit, right? That’s strange….”

“Right? It is strange.”

“Yup, that’s right, very strange.”

Shaman Cheon lifted his head and glanced at Giju. With his spiritual gate open and possessing powerful spiritual abilities, the probability that Giju had seen wrong was a single speck of dust. Though it seemed Giju himself didn’t know it.

Thwack-

Suddenly closing the old book, Shaman Cheon picked up the bells that were on the small table and shook them violently. A clear yet heavy sound rang thunderously inside the shrine. For the first time, Shaman Cheon properly faced Choi Geon. No, it was the spirit Ganglim Doryeong who looked at Choi Geon’s face. The loose atmosphere instantly grew taut.

“You wretch, you are overflowing with fortune.”

The first thing he saw was, of course, the golden cord wrapped around his body.

“Your grandfather bestowed a lot of blessings. You’re overflowing with fortune… so why is your luck so bad?”

Shaman Cheon’s face drew closer.

“No, we got rid of the evil spirit last time, so why is your luck still bad?”

Eyes mixed with bewilderment and strangeness stared as if to pierce through Choi Geon, who wasn’t intimidated in the slightest.

“No, you’ve even received an unbelievable divine protection? But….”

As if frustrated by the unanswered question, Shaman Cheon’s eyes widened excessively.

“Your luck is bad? Wait, wait, something’s strange? Closer, closer….”

His eyes, which were staring intently as if looking inside the body, turned black, losing their pupils just like Giju’s had when he was possessed. Simultaneously, the bells began to shake more and more violently.

Jingle jingle jingle!!

Even in this mind-boggling situation, Choi Geon stared at Shaman Cheon without flinching. If anything, it was Giju next to him who was more nervous. He was afraid of what bad news might come.

Thwack-!

Just then, the bells struck the small table, and the sound stopped. The black pupils slowly returned, and Shaman Cheon, who blinked slowly, opened his mouth as if he had seen something.

“You… your spiritual gate was opened.”

And yet, he still didn’t lose his puzzled expression.

“Do you see ghosts?”

“No.”

At Choi Geon’s flat reply, Shaman Cheon tilted his head, looking even more perplexed.

“Then why was your spiritual gate opened?”

“Geon’s was? But he can’t feel or see anything.”

Giju asked with a dumbfounded face, as if asking what he was talking about. Giju’s eyes were accurate. Choi Geon was an ordinary human with not a single spiritual ability. There was no way he wouldn’t have noticed.

“That’s what I’m saying. This is a first for me, too.”

Shaman Cheon hurriedly rummaged through the books stacked behind him like a folding screen and pulled something out. It was an even older book than the last one. Rapidly scanning and turning the pages, he stopped at a certain section. After staring intently at the text written in Chinese characters, Shaman Cheon finally lifted his head.

“Looks like someone played a trick when you were born.”

A strange silence hung in the air. At words he couldn’t possibly comprehend, Choi Geon’s eyebrow arched crookedly.

“Wh-what does that mean?”

Giju, who seemed to be in the same boat, asked in bewilderment.

“There’s only one possibility in a case like this. It seems someone interfered when you were born… but the jet-black thing is completely invisible. You said you couldn’t see it either, Giju.”

“…Yes.”

A weak voice escaped from Giju, who had thought Shaman Cheon would be able to see what it was.

“Can’t you just do another one of those rites or whatever?”

“Heavens, what a terrible thing to say! If you mess with something you don’t even know the identity of, your soul could be blown away. Your body would become an empty shell.”

At Choi Geon’s extremely simple question, Shaman Cheon exclaimed in alarm. Not knowing its identity was a huge problem. Especially a jet-black soul that wandered around like an ordinary spirit. A shaman who wasn’t highly skilled wouldn’t even notice it. It was that cunning and hard to detect.

“Then what should we do, Shaman Cheon? Isn’t there a way to see it?”

Shaman Cheon, drenched in sweat, wiped his forehead and comfortably extended one of his cross-legged legs. As he did, he glanced at Choi Geon. No, to be precise, he glanced at the golden cord wrapped around his body, licking his lips. The golden cord, overflowing with a fortune he had never seen in his 40 years as a shaman, was turning Shaman Cheon into a greedy man.

“Triple the price?”

“Crazy.”

At the money-grubbing Shaman Cheon, Choi Geon muttered a curse, dumbfounded. Only Giju, beside him, nodded his head fervently.

“Absolutely.”

“Hey, are you the one paying?!”

In truth, it was pocket change from Choi Geon’s perspective, yet he would become a terrible miser whenever he met Shaman Cheon.

“This isn’t an opportunity that comes easily, Geon. We have to find out what the problem is. He’s giving us a discount anyway, so don’t worry too much.”

“Right, right.”

Choi Geon glared at Shaman Cheon, who was nodding his head vexingly, and gritted his teeth.

“Please hurry and tell us, Shaman Cheon.”

At Giju’s urging, Shaman Cheon opened his mouth as if reluctant.

“The ritual tools used by Manshin Bari.”

After Giju’s eyes widened and a brief silence followed, this time Choi Geon spoke.

“What’s that.”

“They’re ritual tools used by a really great shaman from long ago. Like these bells.”

“Yes, we need those bells.”

Shaman Cheon lifted his own ritual tools and shook them, jingle-jangle.

“But Shaman Cheon. Where are they…?”

As if it were a legendary object, Giju asked with a mix of worry and concern. In response, Shaman Cheon looked upward with a wistful expression, as if telling an old tale.

“Well, you see….”

🔖⛩️📿

Swish, swish-

Choi Geon glared at Giju, who was tickling his ear with a foxtail grass, as if he were about to hit him.

“To help you come to your senses.”

Giju chattered at Choi Geon, whose gaze had finally become a bit clearer. Ever since leaving Shaman Cheon’s shrine, Choi Geon had seemed as if he had a screw loose. It was understandable; the things Shaman Cheon had said gave a sort of overload to Choi Geon, who had only just begun to believe in ghosts. It was something he believed, yet was uneasy about believing.

In the end, he was still dumbfounded at having to do as he was told, pushed into it. He couldn’t help but feel completely drained.

“Thanks a fucking lot, asshole.”

“Don’t worry too much, Geon.”

Giju said, waving the foxtail grass gently in front of his face. His expression was as if there were no problem at all. Whenever he saw that carefree face, Choi Geon felt that ghosts and shamans were all just a dream. The strange feeling of being on the border between the unreal and the real often makes a person feel foolish. And so, the worries, or something similar to them, that he was having began to feel trivial.

“Even though your luck is bad, you’re still a person. Not a vengeful spirit, but a person with a real body can do anything.”

The words were laden with many meanings. As for the part about being unlucky, he had heard it so often it was like a greeting now.

“Wow, look at the sunset.”

Just then, Giju exclaimed, looking at the sunset shining vividly in a sky that was exceptionally clear of clouds today. Choi Geon’s gaze naturally turned toward the sunset. He didn’t know when so much time had passed. Those damned shamans were like foxes, always making him lose track of time.