An Exorcist Magical Girl! Chapter 102

I thought it was just another arm, as usual.

 

Until the pale skin completely lost its color and melted away.

 

More specifically, a layer of skin had separated from the real thing.

 

The real left arm was covered in a series of razor-sharp scars.

 

From the wrist to the elbow.

 

…self-inflicted wound. 

 

The marks all over her arms were not the result of some senseless, mindless slashing.

 

Each of the long and short marks were deliberately drawn lines.

 

They were symbols.

 

A pattern. The kind of pattern you put on things like amulets and gourds and gravestones.

 

I couldn’t tell what they meant, of course, but I could tell that the scars formed patterns, writings, hieroglyphics, and symbols commonly used in sigils.

 

The images were eerie to behold, drawn – or rather, carved – using skin as a canvas and knives as pens.

 

“I covered it with an illusion spell for a while.”

 

“No, why on earth would you have that on your arm…. Who did that?”

 

“What are you talking about, a scar or an illusion spell?”

 

“Both!”

 

“Ah. I did it, I walked on it, I did both.”

 

Seo Jun’s voice had regained some of its calm.

 

“So why on earth would you…”

 

“You see?”

 

Seo Jun interrupted my questioning and pointed to a long scar in the middle of her left arm, thicker than the others, longer, more strange, impulsively cut.

 

“This is from when I cut my arm in the park.”

 

By “then” she meant when she was trapped in the otherworldly space of the mirrors in the Rose Tunnel. 

 

Seo Jun had cut her arm to escape by breaking the conditions of the mirrors.

 

The scar had disappeared within a few days, and I had dismissed it as a mystery.

 

In reality, the scar didn’t disappear.

 

It was just hidden under a layer of “intact skin” created by the illusionary spell, along with the “scars that make up the pattern” that would have been carved in the much more distant past. 

 

They were simply hidden from public view.

 

“When I was in middle school, I didn’t even know there was such a thing as an illusion spell, so I had no choice but to wear it all on my sleeve. Every time I went on a mission, I’d get into something dangerous and my arms would end up like this.”

 

Seo Jun laughed self-deprecatingly.

 

“How about that for a blood-crazed person, huh?”

 

She turned her gaze to the mirror as if to say, “Why not?”

 

There was something on its surface that hadn’t been there before.

 

“Do you see it?”

 

Seo Jun looked closely at the mirror and saw another symbol, one that bore a striking resemblance to the one on her left arm.

 

Seo Jun took a notebook from her pocket and traced the pattern. At the same time, the scars on her left arm began to glow blood red.

 

“You, arm…”

 

“It’s for preservation.”

 

Seo Jun concentrated on drawing the symbols, seemingly unconcerned about the blood stains on her notebook.

 

The red glow seeping through the stab wound slowly faded as Seo Jun finished copying the symbol and closed the notebook.

 

The pattern on the surface of the mirror also gradually blurred and finally disappeared completely as soon as Seo Jun was done.

 

As the unknown continued, all I could say was.

 

“Better cover it up again. Here they come.”

 

Outside the caravan, I sensed the return of Hanju and Seon-yeo, who had gone to get the first aid kit. A few seconds later, the caravan door swung open and the two entered.

 

“Hey, we’re home! Are you okay?!”

 

“Everything okay?”

 

The two piled antiseptic and bandages on the table.

 

They talked about how Seo Jun had just realized that they had been attacked by a powerful entity that had taken over Koo’s soul, and that they had run as fast as they could because they were afraid that something else would happen if they stayed.

 

Well, it was good that they recognized the entity that had taken Koo Young-chun’s soul, but they got the rest of the story completely wrong. 

 

Seo Jun hadn’t been attacked by him, she had bled herself to increase the power of a talisman that summoned a certain demon from the mirror.

 

But she didn’t bother to correct them.

 

Seo Jun sat quietly and accepted the treatment. In fact, she’d offered to do it herself, but Seon-yeo insisted that she stay still.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“What are you doing with that crappy first aid… Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Really? You’re not pretending to be okay?”

 

Seon-yeo asked worriedly again and Hanju gave her a pin glass.

 

“What are you really worried about? Seo Jun isn’t in kindergarten. Worry about your lost sunglasses. What will you do if he comes back like annabelle?”

 

“Oh, come on! I didn’t throw them away! It’s at home!”

 

Seon-yeo and Hanju started to argue about the sunglasses.

 

The treatment was over, but their bickering showed no signs of stopping, so I got up to leave.

 

“Hey, guys? You know we’re not done with our evaluation yet, right?”

 

“Oh, right!”

 

Hanju jumped up and down.

 

“I haven’t gotten my points yet! I’m screwed! I’ll go first!”

 

Hanju ran like a bullet.

 

Seon-yeo muttered, “You’re crazy, you’re crazy,” and ran after him.

 

“The ghost spawning place is the other way around, Hanju, you idiot!”

 

The sound of their shouting faded into the distance.

 

“Aren’t you going?” Seo Jun asked quietly.

 

“Why, do you want me to get out of your sight, I can’t go on like this.”

 

I blurted out, but Seo Jun didn’t seem to mind.

 

“No. I meant that you shouldn’t waste any more time here, because the explanation will come after the evaluation, and it’s a long story to tell now…”

 

Seo Jun slowly bent down and picked up the amulet from the floor.

 

“It’s your first official evaluation, so make sure you finish it.”

 

I don’t think she’s trying to avoid the uncomfortable situation at hand.

 

I’m sure she didn’t lie to me that day in the park. 

 

I’ve been filling in the blanks between the truths I can and can’t tell me with her lies.

 

Would I hear the whole truth this time, without the white space? Do I deserve to hear it?

 

Taking my silence as disbelief, Seo Jun added.

 

“Since you don’t seem to believe me, I’ll just tell you the conclusion of what I’m about to say.”

 

Seo Jun seemed to enjoy my disbelief.

 

“I didn’t want to close the door to that room, on the contrary.”

 

Her calm voice rang in my ears.

 

“My intention is to open it.”

 

 

***

 

 

“Seo Jun, you go first. Quickly. I’ll be right behind you…”

 

As Seo Jun left the caravan at a slow pace, she repeated the three letters of the name of the man who had changed his life forever.

 

“Chun Chan-young.”

 

Seo Jun’s friend who died trapped in this room.

 

Seo Jun’s last four years could not be described without him. There should have been only one purpose for Seo Jun to live for: Chun Chan-young.

 

At least that’s what she thought.

 

“My friend died because he was trapped in this room… My friend died because he was trapped in this room… My friend died because he was trapped in this room…”

 

Seo Jun unconsciously muttered the words she’d said to Baek Iri in the mirror dimension of the park over and over again.

 

It was the whole truth, but it was also a half-truth.

 

There were two things that Seo Jun hadn’t told Baek Iri that day.

 

The first.

 

That Seo Jun had been trapped in this dimension with her friend and had cowardly emerged alone.

 

And two.

 

That the soul of her friend was still trapped in the room because of Seo Jun.

 

***

 

 

It was a string of bad luck.

 

They stepped into the Otherworld without realizing it, and by the time they realized they was in a strange place, the door was already half closed, and to make matters worse, the puppets had appeared and blocked their way.

 

“I will do something about these crazy puppets. Seo Jun, you go and stop the door from closing any further.”

 

“I don’t know how…!”

 

“Look there. The door is closing as the seal fades. You just have to make sure it doesn’t disappear completely.”

 

But that wasn’t something a first year middle schooler could do.

 

The puppets were stronger than Chun Chan-young alone, and Seo Jun’s “power binding spell” couldn’t stop the symbols from losing their power and blurring.

 

“Seo Jun, even you should get out!”

 

At the last possible moment, Chun Chan-young pushed Seo Jun out of the room.

 

The door slammed shut as soon as Seo Jun left the room.

 

As she was pushed out the door, she saw her friend completely surrounded by puppets.

 

This was the last thing Seo Jun saw of Chun Chan-young.

 

She couldn’t shake the thought that she had killed her friend..

 

If only she had realized earlier, even for a second, that she could no longer stop the Seal from losing its power and told Chun Chan-young. Would it have been different?

 

If she had grabbed his arm when he was about to push her out of the room.

Would it have been different?

 

Would Chan-young have lived?

 

Regret didn’t change anything, and the only atonement Seo Jun could make was to take Chun’s soul out of that room.

 

Poor Chun’s soul would be trapped there forever, unable to die even in death.

 

That was the way it was.

 

She never knew when, where, or for how long the door to that room would open, so entering it meant the beginning of an indefinite imprisonment.

 

There, even after death, she could not go to the afterlife, she could only exist forever. Never to be extinguished, never to be led by the Grim Reaper.

 

That’s why Seo Jun despised the ghosts that entered the Mukgyeong Girls’ High School.

 

Stupid things, lured by the promise of eternity, unaware of how blessed they were to die properly.

 

She couldn’t afford to save them all. The guilt and duty to Chun Chan-young was enough to overwhelm Seo Jun.

 

Oh, maybe there was a little bit of desire to feel the weight of the eternal imprisonment they so desperately wanted.

 

In any case, she couldn’t afford to be disturbed by the ghosts of the school.

 

Every time Seo Jun turned her attention elsewhere, it meant more time for the otherworldly Chun Chan-young to suffer.

 

Seo Jun only had to live for Chun Chan-young.

 

“Hahaha, Chan-young…”

 

She thought today would be the day she could put an end to it.

 

Seo Jun didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

 

The blood-soaked, half-burned, tattered paper crumpled slightly in her hand.

 

The talisman had worked. The amulet had managed to trap Chun Chan-young’s soul in that room.

 

But even if she had enough time, she would not have been able to bring Chun Chan-young’s soul back to this reality.

 

Since the door was opened by the mirror, it was impossible in the first place.

 

She doesn’t know when, where, or how long the door to that dimension will open.

 

However, the case of the door appearing on the mirror was different.

 

Unlike the other doors, which were sporadic and irregular, the door that appeared in the mirror was opened and closed by the owner of the space himself.

 

The master of the otherworld was watching.

 

And it had no intention of giving Seo Jun the soul of the Thousand and One.