RPPL C2

For a moment, goosebumps erupted as his hair stood on end, and Bipa shot up and backed away. Seeing that nothing jumped out, he thought he might have imagined it and breathed a sigh of relief.

“How is it?”

“It hasn’t become a saetani. Probably…”

Although there was a distinct and powerful energy, it wasn’t one. Bipa waved his hands wildly around the crock. 

Whoosh, whoosh, with each wave of his hand, the energy thinned slightly.

Examining the entrance, he saw that wicked energy was clumped around the lid like mud. Nothing would be able to come and go freely through here. Even less so a body weakened before completion. Knowing that, his desire to not touch it vanished completely. I’ll just have to break it.

“What are you looking for?”

“You could help, you know!”

“No. It’s dirty.”

Haesol had found a sow thistle leaf somewhere, put it in his mouth, and was humming. As much as Dokkaebis would never do something they didn’t feel like doing, thanks to him, only Bipa was left to suffer, breaking out in beads of sweat on this humid day.

It’s karma, my karma.

After muttering his habitual phrase, he found a heavy rock from somewhere. It fit perfectly in his hand; this was the one.

“You’re going to break it?”

“Don’t even think about swooping in now to take credit. You just watch.”

Gritting his teeth, Bipa shouted toward the inside of the crock.

“Duck!”

And with a shattering crash, the unusually thick crock broke.

The crock crumbled slowly, as if the clay hadn’t fully hardened. The shards had dull edges, insufficient to cut anyone, and the inside was damp with a soggy wetness.

Within the deep shadow, where not a speck of sunlight seemed to reach, the lump that had been submerged inside was revealed. A pair of eyes, shining distinctly amidst the utter blackness, stared directly at Bipa.

“Are you all righ-,”

Haesol strode forward, blocking Bipa who was about to approach as if bewitched. Only then did Bipa realize he had acted rashly. It was unlike him.

Haesol tilted his head and, after staring for a long time, exclaimed.

“What the. You look like a completely drenched rat!”

The voice was not one that pierced the ears but a resonant sound that vibrated in the skull, and Bipa furrowed his brow slightly.

“Come out. Nothing good will come from staying in there. Yes. Come on out.”

Haesol urged in his booming voice. A hand as withered as a branch was placed on his large, outstretched hand. One foot came out first. Then, slowly, the body was revealed.

It was a small child. But despite clearly having starved for a long time, the gaze alone was sharp, as if wondering where such energy came from. It was a relief they were able to rescue the child before it became a saetani.

Haesol had also been observing the child, but his impression was quite different from Bipa’s. The words he blurted out were truly indifferent.

“What a beggar.”

“Haesol.”

“What? I’m right, aren’t I? An orphan?”

“Haesol, please. That mouth of yours.”

“These days, there are plenty of those who’ve lost their families. What’s the big deal?”

Bipa finally lost his patience and stomped hard on Haesol’s instep. Knowing that Haesol wouldn’t even bat an eye, he followed up by raising his hand and fiercely pinching his arm. Only then did Haesol grumble and shut his mouth.

With Haesol finally quiet, Bipa moved a little closer.

The child was ominous and unsettling. Its sunken eyes were bloodshot, its face had a sickly yellow hue, and the joints of its bones protruded sharply, making it not at all cute. Furthermore, its fingernails were all broken from scratching the crock so much that it looked less like a child and more like a starving demon.

A child rescued just before becoming a saetani. The circumstances were obvious without even having to look. There were only two possibilities. It was either kidnapped, or its parents sold it. Seeing as there was no shaman standing guard, the latter seemed more likely, but frankly, he wanted to get involved with neither.

Bipa touched his forehead and sighed. In truth, he didn’t particularly like children. The children he remembered were things that required a lot of care and whose purity made them even more frightening.

“I saved it, so that should be enough… right?”

At his words, muttered as if to himself, Haesol shook his head.

“Even if you pick up a dog, you must take responsibility for it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t take responsibility.”

Bipa whispered lowly, biting his lip. Haesol was provoking him again.

“Then why did you save it?”

“So I should have just left? As a decent human being?”

“Human? What kind of decency is it for a human to sell their own child? The ways of humans are truly amusing!”

“You….”

“Bipa, don’t be angry. You know I’m not talking about you.”

Bipa pressed his lips together tightly and looked at the child again. The child was staring at them with bare feet. It was surprising that there was no anxiety or fear in its gaze. Perhaps, because of what it had already been through, it had become unshaken by most things.

Bipa bent his knees and crouched down in front of the child. Then he waved his hands back and forth. Its gaze followed the movement, so it didn’t seem to be in a daze.

“It can see, and it doesn’t seem to be possessed….”

But it was silent. He didn’t know if it was originally unable to speak or if it had lost its voice. Bipa asked slowly. His way of speaking was somewhat slow anyway.

“Are you from this village.”

The child shook its head. It was so thin he worried its neck might snap from the movement.

“Should I take you home?”

“To the people who sold me? Don’t bother.”

“Haesol, that tongue of yours.”

But this time, Haesol’s words were persuasive.

Then what should he do? Bipa recalled the situation in the village below that he had seen today. While it had been years of harvests not even meeting average yields, this place was still relatively prosperous. It seemed the land was fertile, probably because it was downstream of the river. The problem was that even on fertile land, the harvest was merely average….

In any case, as generosity comes from a full granary, couldn’t the people here take pity on this child and take it in? With that hope, Bipa tilted his head.

“Haesol. Carry it on your back.”

“No. It stinks.”

Haesol pinched his nose and shook his head.

“Hey!”

“No, it’s not the body odor…. The body odor is fine. When we first met, you were in worse shape than this. So it’s not the body odor, but….”

Haesol sniffed and circled the child’s body once.

If it’s not body odor, then what is it, Bipa wondered, but seeing the sun about to set, he grew anxious. He plucked a few sow thistle leaves from nearby, crushed them vigorously, and stuffed them into Haesol’s nostrils. Haesol sneezed loudly. While he was doing that, Bipa lifted the child and unceremoniously placed it on his broad, thick shoulders.

“Let’s get going already. This place, the land is bad and full of resentment. I don’t want to stay here any longer.”

As soon as he mentioned the land, Haesol nodded and finally started walking. He pressed one nostril with his thumb and, snort, snort, blew out the crushed sow thistle before heading straight down.

As it happened, an old man was at the entrance of the back mountain. He must have come from the ritual play, as the hemp cloth tied around his shoulder was soaked with sweat. He had been sitting and secretly drinking a bowl of makgeolli when he was startled by a thump from behind and a vibration that shook the ground, making him cry “Eegumeoni!” and tumble forward.

“Is the sky falling?”

Bipa chuckled, looking at the man who had shouted.

“Does it fall that easily?”

Coming to his senses at the voice, the man looked at Bipa and then rubbed his eyes, as if wondering if he was seeing things. He seemed unable to believe the strange young man who had suddenly appeared behind him.

A moment before, while the man was still collecting himself, Haesol had already put the child down on his own and leaped onto a nearby roof. Bipa, dumbfounded by his nimble escape, let out a hollow laugh.

But considering Haesol’s intimidating presence, it was probably for the best. Bipa put on a friendly smile and gently pushed the child’s back to stand it in front of him. It was to ask the man if there was a place where he could entrust the child.

“Wh-what is this.”

The man, his eyes meeting the child’s, took a step back without realizing it.

Haesol, who was leisurely watching from the rooftop, spoke in a voice inaudible to those without spiritual energy.

[Bipa. It’s no use. They won’t take it.]

It seems so. Bipa had also seen it clearly. The man’s eyes, as he looked at the child, held not pity, but bewilderment, shyness, and the displeasure that appears when confronting something truly ominous. Bipa hid the child behind him and asked in a gentle voice.

“Mister, is there a shaman nearby by any chance?”

“Th-there is, but. She’s already washed up. They said she went blind and lost her spiritual powers a long time ago…. But why, why? Surely that child isn’t some gho-ghost that only I can see, is it?”

He trembled so much he looked quite weak-willed. Bipa gave a kind smile. He pushed up his bamboo hat so his face was clearly visible and whispered.

“Of course not. I can see it clearly with my own eyes, so surely I don’t look like a male shaman to you, do I?”

The man couldn’t take his eyes off the revealed face. The bridge of his nose, which stretched straight like the curve of a beoseon sock before rising with a coy upturn at the end, his long-slanted eyes, his jade-like white skin, and his handsome, bow-shaped lips formed an alluring combination.

He completely forgot that he had been trembling just a moment ago and, staring at Bipa’s face, nodded his head. As if to say that was absolutely right.

“Just as I thought…?”

“Yes, of course. You should go back now. It seems there’s a big event in the village. This isn’t the time for you to be idling about like this. You look like an important person who handles major affairs….”

At the randomly made-up flattery, the man puffed out his shoulders and boasted. About how he was born here, whose descendant he was for how many generations, and about his family lineage…….

As he prattled on, Bipa turned and gave him a slight push. Then, as if bewitched, the man began to walk away unsteadily. The direction he was heading was the one the funeral procession had taken. The hemp cloth fluttered on his shoulder.