Jinseong, with the guidance of the stars, returned quietly to the living quarters, spending time in a corner.
The personnel at the military human rights center engaged in games of Go-Stop, watched TV, or used the slow internet connection, eventually falling asleep due to fatigue.
The living quarters, designed without windows and only equipped with vents and air conditioning to prepare for the intrusion of evil ghosts and spirits, plunged into pitch-black darkness as the lights went out. As he lay on the hard mattress, he felt like a primitive man living in a cave.
People took their places one by one and fell asleep, while Jinseong waited until midnight, absorbing the sight of everyone drifting off to sleep.
Finally, as midnight struck, Jinseong quietly descended from the top bunk.
The living quarters were filled with complete darkness, except for a single sleep light fixed near the door. Situated in the corner, and having deliberately piled up his bedding, Jinseong’s spot appeared occupied, ensuring that it looked as if someone lay there even if he crawled out.
Unless the night turned bright, it would be hard to notice Jinseong’s absence.
Draped in tattered cloths that exuded a pungent odor, Jinseong stealthily slipped outside. He took the burden he’d set down earlier and let the ragged cloth drape over him entirely. Then, hiding in the shadow, he turned north, just as the stars had instructed him.
‘They’re asleep.’
There were two officers in the northern outpost.
But were they just tired?
One had his head down on the monitor equipped with CCTV, sound asleep, while the other had his forehead pressed against the large telescope that protruded from the scope’s edge.
Upon confirming that both were asleep, Jinseong used teleportation without hesitation.
Once outside the safe zone, he began to move briskly. Unlike his careful movements hidden in the safety of darkness, here he boldly traversed the desolate landscape, fully exposed to anyone who might observe him.
This lack of concern stemmed from his belief that satellite surveillance was not a significant threat. The fabric he wore had the ability to create noise, affecting electronic devices’ ability to accurately capture his form.
This characteristic was reminiscent of a “powerful evil spirit,” and considering North Korea was teeming with malevolent beings, no one would distinguish between a wandering spirit and Jinseong slipping away, shrouded in that noise.
Thus, Jinseong continued using teleportation, cloaked in noise.
When he felt it was enough, he stopped, closed his eyes, and muttered softly.
“Om Dona Baara Ha.”
As he chanted the mantra, his hair bristled. Each strand seemed to quiver with sensory awareness, expanding his perceptual range and allowing faint silhouettes to imprint in his mind even amidst the suffocating darkness.
It’s expanding.
Each hair stood erect like antennas, trying to gather information all around, creating shapes as if sketching in the darkness that blanketed his closed eyes.
The irregular “flying mosquito” imagery faded, and a unified movement began forming shapes, as the debris floating in the vitreous humor coalesced into the outline of a human head.
Faint figures that subtly shifted according to the intensity of light coalesced into spheres with limbs been drawn out, producing the form of a ghost.
This entire process spread the more his perceptual ability expanded; it felt as if he were seeing the world even with his eyes shut.
Or as if he were peeping into a “different world.”
‘To the right. Two teleportations.’
Jinseong turned his head toward the direction suggested by his enhanced senses.
Fixing his gaze there, he retrieved animal fur from within his garments and burnt it to envelop himself in the scent of wild beasts. Next, he plucked strands of his own hair, burning them in a Samādhi True Fire, sprinkling the ash across his shoulders.
“From a human body, insects are born, and their form resembles mere dots barely visible to the eye. Each dot, equipped with wings, flies about, giving birth to maggots that crawl and darken the flesh.”
As he recited the invocation, the dots that settled on his shoulder began to stir.
The tiny dot that resembled a light pencil poke began moving as though it were a living insect, some attaching to his rags and darkening everything with mold, while others floated in the air, circling around Jinseong.
With their flight, the odor emanating from Jinseong shifted.
What had once been a simple stench now began to carry a slightly rotting smell.
Realizing the rancid odor coming from his body, Jinseong smiled with satisfaction and activated teleportation.
Once.
Twice.
As he performed teleportation twice, a rundown village filled with crumbling houses replaced the desolation surrounding him, and an eerie sensation, sharp against his senses, welcomed him.
Creeeak—
Could it be that the ominous atmosphere now echoed throughout the village to herald Jinseong’s visit?
The door of a half-collapsed, shabby house began to creak open with a spine-chilling sound. Supported by a single hinge, the door opened with the sounds of wood splintering and scraping against the ground, revealing a skeletal foot stepping outside.
[Who’s there? If you have any food scraps, give me some!]
Beginning with the foot, it displayed an elongated arm, then eventually revealed a head; the shape was utterly repulsive.
A hungry ghost.
An evil spirit that consumes incessantly, a hungry ghost.
The hungry ghost had skinny arms and legs reminiscent of tree branches, with fingers that moved sporadically, having only one joint.
Its arms could hardly remain still, flailing in the air before wrapping around a stomach that swelled like a mountain, while its head, barely distinguishable under layers of flesh, swiveled searching for food.
[If there’s no food scrap, then give me at least a rice ball!]
The hungry ghost clumsily shuffled out in front of Jinseong.
With each step it took, its belly grew rounder, about to touch the ground, dragging a disgusting sound behind it as whatever was inside sloshed around.
Gurgle—
Gurglle—
Sounds of the contents mixing within its belly.
The squirming insides screamed, as though whatever living being trapped inside was trying to escape.
All of these noises became an overwhelming symphony, disorienting Jinseong.
[Oh, my, there’s nothing to fill my belly with?]
The hungry ghost, noticing its belly twisting, squeezed its throat, as though not even gas could escape, slowly approaching Jinseong, step by step.
As it drew near, it slowed its pace, tilting its head left, then right, fixed on Jinseong with its glazed eyes.
[You seem strange. I thought you’d be warm and full of goodies; it doesn’t look like that now, does it?]
The hungry ghost tilted its head in confusion.
It sniffed curiously, scrutinizing Jinseong from head to toe with its lifeless eyes, and then lunged out its tongue, trying to lick the insects flying around him. Disappointed, its body sank, and it began to trudge back to its dwelling.
[No treats? I’m starving, starving. Oh, how starving….]
With that, as the ghost faded away, Jinseong moved once more.
He passed by the haunted house and made his way to the center of the village, where the tree stood tall amid skeletal trees.
Upon reaching the tree, he saw the remnants of a once-protective house, now barely a shadow of its past.
In what was once a yard, there curled a figure that looked like a woman, scratching the ground with fingers caked in rotten blood, burying her head down. Suddenly alert to Jinseong’s presence, she lifted her gaze in an unsettling manner.
Her eye sockets, now reduced to mere holes, were filled with decay, displaying a skull barely covered with flesh, and a mouth that protruded like a mosquito’s snout.
At the tip of this thorn-like protruding mouth, dry lips clung desperately, mouthing sounds to Jinseong.
[Kuwoooow—]
The sound was akin to a ruined instrument emitting notes.
It breathed life into the creaking air with a sound that barely resembled a voice, crawling towards Jinseong while scraping its fingers against the ground. The figure came closer while crawling on all fours, but increasingly seemed to lack the strength in its limbs, collapsing to the ground before shuddering like a maggot, then resumed its crawls as strength returned.
As it moved, its claws scraped the ground, producing a cacophony that, combined with the grotesque sounds, could easily haunt any soul into submission.
Finally reaching Jinseong, it attempted to extend a twig-like hand towards him.
But just as the hand was about to touch Jinseong, it paused, as if catching a scent, and tilted its head, moving its lips and nose a few times. Perhaps disappointed, it slumped back down, curling in place and resuming its scraping against the ground.
Jinseong stared blankly at this sight before turning his back and passing the tree.
He continued walking, step by step.
And finally.
Clang—
He heard the sound he had longed for.
