The expression on the officer’s face turned pale upon hearing the question.
“Th-that question has no answer….”
A riddle is presented here. This riddle is exceedingly simple yet annoyingly ambiguous, allowing for anything to be deemed the answer.
Then I ask: If everything can be the answer, what is the opposite of this?
“The question is not a ‘correct question’!”
The officer shouted, stepping forward before Seong Min-hyuk could speak.
He barely controlled his trembling body as he shouted at Jinseong.
“How can it be a correct question when there’s no clear answer!”
Jinseong stared blankly at Cheon Hee-soo and nodded.
Then he, as if stroking an imaginary beard beneath his chin, spoke in a grave tone.
“Thus, to have it be an answer, you must speak only the truth. Gather the fog-like image that’s lost within your depths and render it clear, shaping it into form to bring forth with your lips. It must be touched only by the hand of truth. Speak with sincerity, free of even a speck of falsehood.”
Cheon Hee-soo’s protest brought back a simple answer from Jinseong.
“Speak only truth. With no lies or pretense, answer sincerely. Then I will count it as the correct answer.”
Cheon Hee-soo sighed and explained Jinseong’s words to Seong Min-hyuk.
‘I’d rather do it myself…’
Cheon Hee-soo had the desire to face Jinseong directly but felt utterly helpless. After all, it was Seong Min-hyuk he pointed out, not himself.
‘Right. At least I can help from the sidelines…’
Just observing and advising might help avoid stepping on mines that could lead to chaos.
Cheon Hee-soo resolved to be satisfied with this realization.
It did somewhat feel like a relationship between a bear at the zoo and its keeper…
But, who really cares about that?
“But can’t we just leave? Must we go through all of that?”
However, controlling that bear was no easy feat. After all, if it were easy, why would there be keepers and trainers at all?
If they didn’t listen to commands, they were animals; if they didn’t follow human intentions, they were beasts.
Seong Min-hyuk was no different from such animals.
The officer sighed deeply inside while trying to stop Seong Min-hyuk’s impulsive actions.
“Yes. We must comply. If we run away, we don’t know what he might do….”
Payment and salary are not the same.
Payment is intangible and never exceeds due limits. The tale speaks of no removals of lifespans or the taking of one’s life or soul. At most, it might be a slight reduction of life force or lifespan, or perhaps a bit of luck… just about that much.
Jinseong often used a polished way of saying it was “temporarily lowering resistance,” but even in saying that, it merely meant that amount.
However, a salary is much more brutish and violent.
To collect a demand, the shaman can utilize personal capabilities.
It was akin to a loan shark knocking on doors, ringing doorbells, lurking on the street, ambushing at the workplace, threatening randomly, and incessantly calling until the phone catches fire.
But even here, there are limits — they cannot take more than the agreed value….
Thinking about how the cost of a salary is set through negotiation, speaks volumes about the possibility of such “brutal behavior”… quite thought-provoking.
Moreover, there were many ways for a shaman to track those who did not pay, like attaching GPS to a debtor. The causality was connected, and since it remained unresolved, it was relatively easy for a shaman of a certain level to locate it.
They could create a compass made from properly forged minerals and let it float on water to search, follow the path illuminated by the stars, or even throw a knife and walk in the direction it pointed.
Just from what Cheon Hee-soo could recall from overhearing some shamanistic phrases, there were already this many ways; how many diverse methods would true shamans know?
“I’m not afraid of shamans.”
“No… um. Just do as you like. It’s not that difficult; you just need to answer three questions.”
Cheon Hee-soo half-forced Seong Min-hyuk forward towards Jinseong.
Seong Min-hyuk opened his mouth with a sulky look.
“What’s this? I’ll answer the question, but just try to say it’s wrong.”
Jinseong perched atop the well, gazing at Seong Min-hyuk.
His posture was half in the lotus position and half out of it.
It was as if a pagan being was imitating the Buddha, deep in thought in half-lotus pose.
“There are indeed things that deserve to die. Those that harm others and kill—like criminals! The parasites that torment ordinary people and destroy their lives!”
Parasite.
That word made Jinseong react.
“Parasite. It’s a widely used metaphor, indeed, both correct and incorrect.”
The mouth of the golden mask moved, producing a sound that felt like words rather than music.
It sounded like a voice a pipe organ might produce when talking.
Jinseong emanated various voices from all over his body as if he were an instrument himself.
“A parasite does not kill its host, thus it doesn’t destroy life.”
“However, that’s only true in small numbers. When the numbers increase, tragedy is bound to occur.”
“If the number of blood-sucking leeches becomes excessive, the drained human may suffer anemia, shock, cardiac arrest, and even death.”
“When Anisakis clings to the stomach wall, its numbers can cause inflammation, creating holes that leave a person writhing in terrible agony.”
“Even the most commonplace creatures can cause a proper disruption of vital activities when their numbers swell. They can choke internal organs.”
“Sucking blood.”
“Consuming all the nutrients.”
“Ultimately leading to the death of the host.”
“This is the harm of parasites.”
Jinseong leaned his chin on his hand and quietly stared at Seong Min-hyuk.
“There was truth in your answer, so it cannot be entirely wrong. Even if there are other things, can we declare this wrong? Your answer is correct, thus you have provided a sufficient answer to the first question.”
“However, you stated that criminals deserve to die, so you, Seong Min-hyuk, the warrior who crushes others with your bare hands…”
“You must clarify what your standard for a criminal is.”
“This is akin to pointing out that Cheon Hee-soo did not convey to me what he ought to tell earlier, thus it’s not a question. Rather, this is something you must clarify—ah, we call this an obligation.”
Seong Min-hyuk quietly pondered over his question.
“Misdemeanors… No, serious crimes?”
“When speaking of serious crimes, does that mean killing someone, committing violence, and ruining someone’s life?”
“That’s right.”
“Then where is the criterion to judge that? The law?”
“Yes!”
Jinseong began to plant confusion within Seong Min-hyuk.
“Then I ask, in countries far away, they do not punish for killing a person in certain circumstances. This case is for honor, which not only doesn’t incur punishment but receives praise from those around. Clearly a murder, yet surrounded by accolades. Can this be called a crime?”
“Of course, it’s a crime!”
“Then let me ask. A person who’s reclaimed a lost country encounters the traitor who sold the nation, bound tightly by ropes, kneeling before him, while the gathered crowd is shouting for his execution. Is killing that person a justified execution, or murder? You, moving the knife according to their intention, are no different from a rogue. Are you performing the ordinary duty of an executioner, or is this murder and a crime, having killed a person?”
“Uh….”
He was turning Seong Min-hyuk’s head into a whirlpool.
“A person has been dragged out. This witch, formerly living in a distant forest, is a being bestowed with knowledge from Satan, who frequently escapes experiments, rendering crops unusable and causing villagers to starve, leading to the deaths of those bitten by monsters. Thus, sincere individuals teamed up with the Holy Sorcerer to bring this horrifying witch and throw stones at her until she dies; villagers and outsiders alike hurled stones relentlessly until she was killed.”
“Then is the witch’s death justified? Having harmed and paid her debts, is that right? And if this is a crime, then are all those who threw stones burdened with the guilt of murder? Or is it just the one who threw the final stone that bears the sin of murder? If throwing a stone is mere assault, then how did the witch die? Are they all criminals?”
“If law is the standard, then what is the law that serves as the criterion? The will of the people? The words inscribed in the legal text?”
“If all arose because the people desired it, then everything that contravenes the law is a crime, whereas that which conforms is virtuous. Does this mean everything that exists outside this law can be murdered as criminals?”
Dizziness.
An excruciating dizziness.
Seong Min-hyuk stood there, dazed, feeling as if letters were entering his brain and shaking it around.
Unable to bear observing this, the officer returned to Seong Min-hyuk’s side and shouted at Jinseong.
“You said it was the correct answer, so let’s move on to the next question!”
“Hmm.”
It was to clear the swirling thoughts inside Seong Min-hyuk’s head.
Jinseong straightened at the officer’s shouting.
The chin resting hand fell, and the crooked head stood upright again.
The expressionless face on the golden mask again directed its focus straight at them.
And thus, the second question was posed.
“Self. I ask, this is the second question, so speak the correct answer. Greater than the Creator who fashioned the world, more virtuous than the one who opened the gates of Heaven, possessing more wealth than the richest, wider than the vast sky, deeper than Hell, higher than Heaven, more wicked than the demons in Hell, larger in sin than the sinner paying penance in the deepest abyss, more resolute than Death, blessed as much as birth, and this that will exist eternally even when the entire world ends—what is this?”
