KTC | Chapter 6

Choi Seonwoo spoke decisively, scratching at his temple. Anxiety flickered in Chairman Seo’s eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“There are too many vengeful spirits clinging to your grandson. Even if we drive this one out, another will take its place the moment he harbors any dark thoughts.”

“Are these vengeful spirits something you can’t handle, Priest?”

Choi Seonwoo looked at Chairman Seo, a bitter smile on his face.

“Vengeful spirits aren’t like evil spirits, brother. If they were truly gone, they wouldn’t be wandering this realm in the first place.”

Karma calls forth evil, and that evil beckons further karma. Seo Jihan already had too many evil spirits drooling over the karma he carried. It was commendable that he had unconsciously avoided the path of corruption thus far, but it was a burden he would carry until his dying day.

“There are few who can remove them, and even those with the ability shouldn’t do so recklessly. It could put the possessed at risk. Shamans say it’s like ‘touching raw flesh.’”

Chairman Seo remembered the shamans who had fainted spilling blood. And the words of the famous shaman Yukson Manshin, who even refused a blank check for a ritual:

“With so many vengeful spirits attached, it’s a perfect storm for devouring a shaman. I don’t have the power to extract just the evil spirit possessing your grandson. Not for all the money in the world.”

“So, are we left to fate? To handle it like this whenever an evil spirit possesses him again?”

“Well… yes.”

Choi Seonwoo shrugged his shoulders. What can you do? It’s painful to see a stripped-down soul suffer, but there’s nothing I can do.

“Let’s at least try to drive this one out first.”

Choi Seonwoo stood up. Nam Sangkyung quickly opened the door to the courtyard, bowing deeply. It was an uncomfortably grand gesture.

Choi Seonwoo returned to Seo Jihan’s room. Jihan was already watching the door with bright eyes as if he sensed something from outside. The faint sunset glinted in his eerily bright eyes.

Meow.

Angela, acting like the owner of the desk she sat upon, meowed. It was as if she was saying, ‘I’ve been keeping a good eye on him!’

Choi Seonwoo stroked Angela’s head and then undid the buttons on his clergy shirt sleeves, rolling them up past his elbows. Jihan watched him with an intense gaze, his expression neither smiling, crying, nor emotionless—an unusual face.

As he was contemplating the meaning behind that expression, Jihan called out.

“Brother Seonwoo.”

Having just rolled up his sleeves, Choi Seonwoo raised an eyebrow with a mysterious smile.

“Brother.”

The obsession wasn’t limited to the possessed; the spirits, too, clung to the exorcist’s name and past. If there was any guilt the possessed wanted to hide, the spirits would dig persistently into it, trying to create a void within the psyche to plant doubt and evil.

How much had this spirit figured out?

“Brother…”

Jihan’s voice trailed off with a hint of longing and coyness, much like the cunning of other evil spirits.

“Wow, you’re a ghost with a perfect Korean update? I’ve lived and lived and now I’m even being called ‘brother’ by an evil spirit.”

Pretending not to know, Choi Seonwoo theatrically approached the bed, biting his right thumb.

“Alright. This brother will send you to a good place, so let’s not hold on and just leave.”

Choi Seonwoo sat on Jihan’s abdomen as before. Jihan’s eyes fixed on the droplets of blood forming on Choi Seonwoo’s thumb. Choi Seonwoo grinned.

“Shall we start?”

He made the sign of the cross on Jihan’s forehead with his bloodied thumb. The blood seeped into the skin like lead, and a foul smell of sulfur began to spread.

“Archangel Michael, protect us in battle and be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the devil.”

Choi Seonwoo quickly started reciting a prayer dedicated to Archangel Michael, a common introduction in exorcism rites.

Jihan’s eyes rolled back immediately. A metallic scream scattered like dust. Jihan’s body twisted violently, shaking the bed.

The more the prayer continued, the more violently he thrashed. Eventually, Jihan began to scream. All sorts of vile words meant to beguile the exorcist spewed from his throat.

“You live a life of lies under a filthy name! Take off the mask of priesthood and face yourself! Isn’t the embodiment of evil also within you?”

Evil spirits skillfully twist the truth. They know that this disturbs the exorcist more than blatant lies because, after all, the exorcist is also human and susceptible to such threats and provocations.

However, Choi Seonwoo had never once faltered under their influence.

The reason was simple. The spirits, claiming to know all about him, ultimately proved they couldn’t see into his true depths.

Right now, the spirit could only see a fraction of the numerous vengeful spirits surrounding him. But it couldn’t see why they clung to him or why they couldn’t leave. Hence, it tried to provoke guilt to transfer its malice.

Pitiful indeed.

“You are the purest seed of evil! Face me without the mask. Then I’ll tell you all about the origins you’re so curious about!”

“As commanded by God, drive Satan away.”

“If you try to extract me, this vessel will shatter! But if you accept me willingly, I will leave this vessel unharmed!”

“Leader of the heavenly hosts, Archangel Michael.”

Ultimately, the spirit’s words were merely a plea for transfer, dressed up as a threat.

Laughter almost escaped him. The spirit was thrashing around helplessly in a vessel so dry and fragile it could die at any moment, yet it acted as if it were bestowing great grace.

“By God’s power, drive Satan and all the evil spirits roaming the world to destroy souls to hell. Amen.”

“Brother, brother! It’s me, Jihan.”

Had the spirit been a bit more composed in assessing the situation, it wouldn’t have carelessly thrown such inconsistent traps. It should have focused on why the sealed memories in Jihan were calling him ‘brother.’ That might have scored a hit.

For his true original sin was indeed there.

No, from the current situation, it seemed the spirit had no real intention of unsettling him. It clearly had other schemes in mind. But whatever they were, it didn’t matter.

Choi Seonwoo drew another cross with his bloody thumb over Jihan’s agonized lips. Jihan cried out in pain, thrashing his arms. The metal rings fixed to the wall clinked ominously.

“Grandpa! This demon is trying to kill me! Grandpa! This guy is the real demon! Please, believe me, please!”

Chairman Seo, unable to take his eyes off the pleading Jihan, clenched his trembling arms around himself. Otherwise, he felt he might rush over and push Choi Seonwoo away.

Choi Seonwoo remained unfazed by any deceitful ploys. He steadfastly withstood the immense force exerted by Jihan. His expressionless face, continuing the ritual, looked as saintly as that of a bishop for the first time.

If not for his reliable demeanor, he couldn’t have ignored Jihan’s desperate appeals.

Chairman Seo chewed the inside of his lip, swallowing blood to hold himself together.

“Our Lord Jesus Christ has freed us from your bondage. The Lord lives and reigns forever. Amen.”

After one more prayer, Choi Seonwoo placed his hand on Jihan’s head and bowed. He was about to breathe the Apostle’s Creed when suddenly…

Crash!

The wall burst, sending debris flying. There was also a crashing sound from below.

As the room spun, an immense weight crashed onto him unexpectedly. Jihan, having ripped the chain fixed to his left hand from the wall, threw himself at Choi Seonwoo.

Choi Seonwoo instinctively caught the large approaching hand.

“Father Choi!”

Startled onlookers screamed as they rushed forward. Angela cried out sharply.

“Don’t come! Angela, you too!”

Choi Seonwoo immediately halted them. Though they stopped reflexively, their hands twitched anxiously. Angela was no exception.

Jihan, ignoring all the commotion around, only stared down at Choi Seonwoo.