Whisper Prologue

Slurp, slurp.

 

Cha Gyeol looked down impassively at the top of the woman’s head, who was kneeling between his legs, half-rising as she performed oral sex on him. She gripped his thick and large member with both hands, skillfully attending to it.

 

Her movements, licking the shaft and glans with her tongue, tightening with her lips, and opening her throat to take him in, suggested she was skilled. However, Cha Gyeol’s response to it was detached, unaffected by her efforts.

 

His gaze, which had been fixed on the crown of her head, shifted upward, and his head tilted slightly back. Judging from his composed face, no one would suspect he was receiving oral sex. His slightly upward-tilted eyes briefly met the blue sky beyond the window before closing.

 

It was just as he thought to call it off due to a lack of arousal. Loud footsteps echoed from outside, followed by the abrupt opening of the door.

 

The woman, startled by the unexpected intrusion, had her eyes meet those of Jang Pal-yong, who had entered. Flustered, she tightened her throat around him but quickly withdrew. Cha Gyeol opened his wallet, pulled out a few bills, and placed them on the desk.

 

“Let’s stop here.”

 

At his cold voice, the woman flinched and released him from her mouth. The member, which had been barely halfway in, slipped out, leaving her lips sore and her jaw achy, as if they had nearly dislocated. Quietly, she gathered the bills and slipped out through the half-open door.

 

“Damn, here I am busting my ass out there, and you’re in here having fun?”

 

Jang Pal-yong closed the door and swaggered in, plopping down on the sofa. His legs, propped up on the table, trembled, scattering bits of dirt from his shoe soles.

 

Cha Gyeol’s brows subtly furrowed as he glanced at Jang Pal-yong. His usually waxed and neat hair was drenched in sweat and messy, and his summer suit was rumpled and worn. The face of Jang Pal-yong, a self-proclaimed dandy from Busan, looked utterly haggard in just one day.

 

“So, is that why your brain’s fried? Not even getting hard anymore? Damn, Pal-yong.”

 

It wasn’t clear whether he was lamenting about not getting hard or calling Pal-yong an idiot. Jang Pal-yong rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a cigarette pack.

 

“Isn’t getting it up the whole point of having fun? Didn’t I walk in, and you stopped?”

 

He had the cigarette in his mouth but no lighter. Muttering about his streak of bad luck, Jang Pal-yong grumbled.

 

“You think I stopped just because you walked in?”

 

The guy doesn’t understand people, does he? Cha Gyeol replied indifferently, lighting his own cigarette and tossing the lighter to him.

 

“Hey, Executive Jang.It’s Executive Jang, isn’t it? How many times do I have to remind you?”

 

That bastard had a knack for pissing people off. It was impressive, really—managing to irritate people even with a new name. A naturally aggravating personality.

 

“You said you need to keep using the name to get used to it, didn’t you?”

 

“Damn it! It’s been years! You can stop now!”

 

Jang Pal-yong snapped, veins bulging in his neck as he caught the lighter. Cha Gyeol, gesturing lazily as if to say “just light the cigarette,” didn’t let up. He clearly enjoyed the reaction, as consistent as always.

 

“Now, tell me why you’re empty-handed.”

 

His narrowed eyes, partially obscured by the haze of cigarette smoke, fixed on Jang Pal-yong. Jang Pal-yong took a deep drag of his cigarette, then suddenly blurted, “Ah, right!” as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. His face, solidly built, twisted in frustration.

 

“When Chief Kim handed me the job, he said he’d pay three million won. I wondered why.”

 

It did seem strange to pay so much for simply bringing someone—a retired shaman.

 

“There was a reason.”

 

Jang Pal-yong, leaning forward to tap ash into the crystal ashtray, muttered, “We were bewitched. Absolutely bewitched,” and began his explanation.

 

“We couldn’t find the house.”

 

His explanation didn’t make much sense, and Cha Gyeol’s expression turned cold. Seeing this, Jang Pal-yong let out a long sigh.

 

“Didn’t you always tell me to stick to the facts? This is the fact. The fact.”

 

“The fact is, you’re an idiot.”

 

Annoyance crept into Cha Gyeol’s otherwise impassive face. Jang Pal-yong pounded his chest in frustration and began again.

 

“Look, Boss. I’m serious. It was me and Park Sae. We scoured that tiny mountain like crazy, damn it. We even called Chief Kim while we were at it. You know what he said? He said it’s definitely there, but even they couldn’t find it. It’s like we were cursed or something!”

 

Jang Pal-yong’s voice rose as he swore he’d gone back three times out of sheer embarrassment.

 

“Way to make a fool of yourself. And in so many words.”

 

Cha Gyeol clicked his tongue, biting down on the filter of his cigarette in exasperation. Just then, a knock came at the door, followed by a brief pause before it opened. Park Sae-min entered at that moment, and Jang Pal-yong greeted him as though he’d found a savior.

 

“Park Sae! You’re here at the perfect time. Tell him! Boss thinks I’m talking nonsense. I’m about to lose my mind.”

 

Caught by the two men’s expectant gazes, Park Sae-min scratched his head. After placing the documents he’d brought for approval on Cha Gyeol’s desk, he approached them.

 

“Sir, as hard as it may be to believe, Executive Jang is telling the truth.”

 

Park Sae-min, who had been out together with them, nodded in agreement, and Cha Gyeol stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.  

 

“It’s a low mountain, and we checked with the villagers, but we just couldn’t find it.”  

 

“Speak clearly.”  

 

“Whenever we enter the mountain, we end up wandering aimlessly. It’s like we’re under some kind of spell, circling around the mountain and then coming back down.”  

 

The expression on Park Sae-min’s face made it clear how perplexed he was. Cha Gyeol straightened his posture and crossed his legs in the opposite direction.  

 

“What if I go and find it?”  

 

“…”  

 

“…”  

 

It wasn’t that they hesitated to respond because they thought Cha Gyeol would find it. It was because his overwhelming aura made them falter for a moment.  

 

“You won’t find it. If we couldn’t find it, how are you going to?”  

 

Although Jang Pal-yong called him reckless, he wasn’t just anyone—he was once a renowned thug, and now he was Cha Gyeol’s closest associate, directing operations for EO Capital and EO Errand Center. Yet, regardless of that, it was hard for Cha Gyeol to accept their claims. In an age where even individuals were launching rockets into space, believing in ghost stories was not in his nature.  

 

“Should I break your fingers?”  

 

“…?”  

 

“…?”  

 

By “breaking your fingers,” he clearly didn’t mean a pinky promise. Both Jang Pal-yong and Park Sae-min simultaneously rubbed their arms, which were covered in goosebumps. Cha Gyeol’s cool, low-pitched voice, coming from a face that looked almost too good, was unsettling enough. But what made it worse was that everyone knew he was the type to actually follow through with his threats.  

 

“Hm?”  

 

As Cha Gyeol pressured them for an answer, Jang Pal-yong turned to look at Park Sae-min. At the same moment, Park Sae-min shifted his gaze, and their eyes met.  

 

Damn, when that bastard says it like that, it really feels like we’ve done something wrong, like we could’ve found it but didn’t.

 

…Maybe it’s really our fault? 

 

The two exchanged a silent conversation through their eyes, their expressions filled with confusion.  

 

“I-I’ll go check again, just one more time.”  

 

What about pride? Damn it. A man stuttering and acting pathetic. Jang Pal-yong, who had known Cha Gyeol for over a decade, couldn’t believe he still got intimidated by him. But then he rationalized it: knowing him well was precisely why he felt even more scared. It wasn’t just his personality that was a problem.  

 

“And after that?”  

 

Cha Gyeol’s long, narrow eyes with icy white sclera glinted slightly. His pupils weren’t smiling in the slightest.  

 

“If I can’t find it and you do, cut off my fingers!”  

 

Jang Pal-yong shouted defiantly, his face turning red as he huffed and puffed. That damn bastard, always driving people to the brink. Cha Gyeol’s crimson lips curled into a smirk.  

 

Damn it. This time, I’ll wear hiking boots, hiking clothes, and I’ll dig up that shitty mountain if I have to!  

 

***  

 

The path wasn’t properly maintained. It was a narrow and somewhat rugged trail formed simply by people walking through.  

 

On either side of the path, wildflowers in shades of purple and yellow bloomed abundantly, neatly lining the way as if someone had deliberately planted them. Despite the midsummer heat, Cha Gyeol walked along the cool mountain trail, holding his phone.  

 

Seeing the “out of service area” notification, he brushed back the hair that had fallen over his face.  

 

You go to that shitty mountain yourself.

 

Three days later, Jang Pal-yong reappeared with a pale face, declaring that he would never set foot near the mountain again in a country where mountains were everywhere you turned.  

 

By this point, Cha Gyeol’s curiosity was piqued.  

 

Jang Pal-yong had reportedly gone to Broker Chief Kim, grabbed him by the collar, and shook him, yelling about how ridiculous it was to mess with people. But Chief Kim had sworn it was real, even vowing his own hand on it if he were lying.  

 

I’m about to lose my fingers here, and he’s talking about his hand like it’s a big deal? 

 

Claiming that they were bewitched and that the mountain was home to a shaman or ghosts, Jang Pal-yong had said it was impossible to find anything no matter how hard they tried. He spoke as if losing his fingers was inevitable.  

 

It seemed like something he’d said unconsciously.  

 

After climbing uphill for about ten minutes, Cha Gyeol spotted a tiled roof in the distance to his right.  

 

“Shit, Pal-yong, you’re in big trouble.”