DMSD | Chapter 12

“Shh.”

Suddenly, Jinhyeon raised a hand, signaling them to stop. His eyes moved as if he were straining to catch a faint sound in the distance.

“Stay still,” he whispered softly.

Then, it happened.

Thud!

Myeongeun felt his whole body suddenly grow heavy. Or, was he floating? Confused, he looked down at himself and at the hairpin resting in his palm.

Thud! Thud! The sensation reverberated through his heart and mind, as if his entire body was pulsing. The hairpin trembled slightly, not enough to match the vibrations he felt, but just enough to be noticeable.

Myeongeun looked up and stared down the hallway.

Something was approaching from the far end.

Boom! Thud! Thud! A massive, heavy presence was pounding down the hallway, moving fast.

Without thinking, he clenched his fists, the sharp, cold edges of the hairpin digging into his palm.

“It won’t harm you, Myeongeun-ssi.”

Jinhyeon placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, as if to reassure him. In that instant, a presence, vast enough to fill the height of the hallway, rushed past them with incredible speed. Though invisible, the force it generated was strong enough to whip their hair and clothes in its wake.

“Where have you been all this time?” Jinhwan muttered lightly as he took out a folded fan from his back pocket and gestured toward the empty space in front of him.

He tilted his head upward. Whatever he was looking at had to be significantly taller than he was.

Myeongeun swallowed hard. There was nothing there, the hallway was empty—yet in front of Jinhwan, it was as if an almost transparent, shimmering haze was wavering in the air, rippling as though it were following a shape.

The shimmering form was huge. It stood nearly twice Jinhwan’s height and was at least three times as wide. It didn’t resemble a human; it was… an animal. It had ears, a tail, and was seated like a large dog or cat, with its front paws resting on the ground and its hindquarters pressed down.

What… is that?

Myeongeun gaped at the transparent, animal-like figure, his lips parted in awe. The fear he’d felt had vanished. Jinhwan had summoned the creature, and Jinhyeon had assured him it was harmless. This wasn’t a dream, nor was he imagining things. He’d been through too much in the past, and he was at least somewhat aware of Jinhwan’s abilities.

But he couldn’t help wondering what this creature was, and since when Jinhwan had been able to summon such a colossal being.

“There. Take it in with you.”

Jinhwan pointed the end of his fan toward the object in Myeongeun’s palm.

Both Myeongeun and Jinhyeon lowered their gazes to the hairpin.

“Good.”

Jinhwan addressed the transparent creature. “If I touch it, it might disappear, so you take it, San Ho.”

San Ho. That was the name Jinhwan used for the translucent animal.

“Place it on the ground and step back. Even if a vengeful spirit shows up, don’t bite it,” Jinhwan commanded San Ho, leaning the fan close to the hairpin before pausing and turning back to the creature.

“Don’t bite.”

It almost seemed like San Ho’s large form deflated slightly, as if it understood the command.

“San Ho will take the hairpin,” Jinhwan explained to Myeongeun, though he didn’t clarify who San Ho was or try to justify his apparent conversation with thin air. He simply continued, as if eager to get things over with.

“You might feel something damp, and perhaps…”

He hesitated, as if it was too bothersome to continue.

“Maybe it’ll feel like sticking your hand in a tiger’s mouth.”

The casual way he described the sensation, summing it up as a mere “feeling,” almost made Myeongeun want to cry.

How would a normal person know what it feels like to put their hand in a tiger’s mouth? And it wasn’t just a feeling—it was an actual tiger! Whether he called it a butterfly tiger or a mountain tiger, it was clearly a tiger.

At the end of his gaze, Myeongeun saw the translucent tiger approaching him.

“Anyway, it’s just a sensation,” Jinhwan dismissed, unfazed, as he opened his fan. The fan made a heavy rustling sound, distinct from an ordinary fan. Myeongeun’s eyes were drawn to the black folds of the fan, where tiny butterfly-like patterns fluttered.

With a flick of his fan, Jinhwan sent a gentle breeze twice over Myeongeun’s palm, then signaled to San Ho.

Feeling the enormous presence looming just inches away, Myeongeun shut his eyes tightly. Beside him, he heard Jinhyeon cheerfully say, “Goodbye, Butterfly,” right before he held his breath.

At first, it felt like he was being swallowed into a vast, damp cave. Only then did he begin to understand Jinhwan’s way of describing things. However you twisted it, the sensation was unmistakably that of a massive tongue licking half of his body. One section even felt rough, like a towel-covered scrub.

The moment he felt the wetness in his palm, he was already out of the cave.

Blinking, Myeongeun opened his eyes, the cool air hitting his face.

Far down the hallway, the hairpin was soaring through the air on its own, moving swiftly.

“Wow…” He stared down the hallway until the hairpin disappeared from sight, mumbling to himself, “It really did feel wet.”

But there wasn’t any actual moisture.

Without a word, Jinhwan began walking again.

Exhausted from his near-death experience with the tiger, Myeongeun trudged after him.

As they neared Warehouse 1, he sidled up to Jinhwan.

“Uh, Jin… Jinhwan-nim.”

He had been debating what to call him for a while now. Weighing “Jinhwan-ssi” against “Jinhwan-nim,” he settled on the latter, since, formally, Jinhwan was a direct descendant of the company’s founding family, and “Jinhwan-ssi” seemed too casual.

Jinhwan glanced briefly at him but soon returned his gaze to the front, his brow furrowing slightly. Myeongeun realized he’d made the wrong choice.

“You’re calling me that because I’m the CEO’s son?”

Myeongeun cringed at Jinhwan’s cold tone and quickly corrected himself, “Jinhwan-ssi.” But he still felt Jinhwan pursing his lips as if holding something back, so he didn’t say anything more.

After a moment, he heard Jinhwan let out a short sigh.

“Ask.”

The softened tone encouraged Myeongeun to scrape up whatever courage he had left.

“Um, I’m curious… Why did that thing latch onto my leg in the elevator? And, well… although I couldn’t see San Ho clearly, I could tell it was an animal. Why is that?”

As he wondered if he should mention his lack of any real spiritual intuition, Jinhwan answered.

“It’s because of my energy.”

He replied rather straightforwardly.

“In the elevator, what you encountered was called a gwimul. It’s a spirit-possessed object, in this case, the hairpin. The vengeful ghost that haunts this building was driven by the hairpin’s lure, losing its sense of direction and rushing at you without thinking.”

Gwimul, jibakryeong, and japgwi. Words he thought he’d left behind after the Mansindang days. Hearing them now, from Hwan’s voice as a grown man, felt strangely surreal.

“You.”

Jinhwan paused, glancing at Myeongeun.

He hesitated briefly before continuing.

“You’re the one among the three of us with the weakest spiritual energy. So when someone like you is carrying a spirit-laden object, even within my influence, that crazed spirit lunged at you as if to devour you.”

Jinhwan explained that even his brothers would have heightened senses if they stayed near him.

“When I release my wonryeok or raise its strength, those with spiritual sensitivity will see, hear, and feel things more intensely. But it also increases their risk of exposure to negative presences. For instance, if someone’s in poor health, stronger spirits might find them suitable hosts. Without any spiritual sensitivity, though, even possession isn’t possible.”

Nodding, Myeongeun glanced back at Jinhyeon. When their eyes met, Jinhyeon smiled, and Myeongeun returned it. He finally understood why Jinhyeon kept his distance; he was trying to avoid Jinhwan’s influence as much as possible.

He recalled his grandmother, the mansin, frequently shaking her head, saying, “Ah, his power is something else!”

Had Jinhwan now gained full control over that strength?

Myeongeun stole a side glance at Jinhwan.

“Why are you staring?”

Without even looking, Jinhwan asked.

Myeongeun quickly turned away and gave a slight shake of his head, a faint smile on his lips.

Had Hwan lived well, he wondered?

“But if that spirit attacked even within your domain, does that mean the grudge tied to that hairpin is that intense?”

“Yes,” Jinhwan confirmed simply.

“That’s why I didn’t touch it. One wrong move, and it would’ve disintegrated. Then there’d be no way to send it back.”

“Back where?”

Jinhwan stopped in front of the warehouse door.

He stared at the door in silence before answering.

“To where it’s meant to go.”

He gently rattled the closed fan in his hand and nodded toward the door, motioning to Myeongeun.

“Open it.”

“Is San Ho inside, too?”

As he took out the key, Myeongeun asked.

Jinhwan nodded.

And a beat later, he suddenly let out a low chuckle.