Jinseong used the teleportation magic in succession to move to Seoul. He then located a suitable three-way intersection near an elementary school, threw down the homemade straw doll Jeoong, and recited an invocation.
“Evil spirits are caught by Cheoyong as he travels a thousand miles, banishing misfortune and bringing good fortune.”
As soon as he finished the incantation, Jinseong hid in a back alley and waited for the straw doll to break.
“Huh?”
“Hey! This is weird!”
“Don’t touch it! Isn’t this some kind of cursed doll?”
“Nah~ Not this one~ The curse is on your body~”
“Nah, don’t touch it or you’ll be cursed~”
It seemed to be around school dismissal time as the children were bustling out. Due to the strange appearance of the straw doll Jeoong, it quickly caught the interest of the more curious elementary students, who formed a small circle around it. Some claimed it was a cursed doll, others suggested it was simply a magical item that someone had dropped. The children chatted noisily, each sharing their own opinion.
“Hang on, what are you doing…oh my!”
“Why, this is something I haven’t seen in a while.”
Two people emerged from the school upon hearing the commotion: a teacher in her mid-30s and the school’s janitor. The teacher tried to shoo the children away when she saw the doll, but the janitor walked up to Jeoong with enthusiasm, examining it closely.
“Hmm, it’s dressed, and there’s a coin as well… Wow, people still do this kind of thing these days.”
“Auntie Kim! What are you doing, it’s dangerous!”
“Oh, don’t worry, Teacher. This isn’t dangerous. It’s a Jeoong doll, Jeoong.”
The janitor then launched into an extended reminiscence about his youth—how these dolls were once commonplace, how he and others would break them to take the coin and buy popsicles, which they would then share. But when that wasn’t satisfying enough, they would sometimes raid their homes for another implement and trade it for candy from a candy seller, only to get beaten up for it.
The teacher, clearly tired of the continuous anecdotes like a particular baseball player’s stories, cut the janitor’s rambling short.
“So, you’re saying it’s safe?”
“Well of course. People do this to receive blessings. You place the doll at a crossroads, kids smash it, and blessings come. The coins are then shared among the ones who break it.”
“Hmm…”
With a sigh, the teacher glanced at the children and the doll on the ground.
“Alright, children, did you hear that? Since it’s not dangerous, feel free to take it, play with it, break it, and you can each take the coins embedded within.”
“Yes!”
The children took the doll Jeoong to the playground, kicking it violently and tossing it around. Consequently, Jeoong wasn’t long for this world; its bindings soon unraveled, and the doll began to break apart. Its structure deteriorated quickly.
“I call this one 500 won coin!”
“I was about to take it! Then I’ll take the 100 won one!”
“Ah…these look like toy coins…”
Once the kids split the three coins they found, the crowd dispersed, and only then did Jinseong emerge from the back alley.
“The child who picked up the silver coin has a lingering aura of fortune. Truly, an excellent omen.”
The silver coin alone was worth approximately 70,000 won, imbued with purifying forces and the ability to dispel evil through the soul-cleansing energies from the vertical cave. If taken to someone with keen insight, it could fetch two or even three digits’ worth.
Jinseong approached the remains of the broken Jeoong, extracted a previously concealed tape recorder, and placed it atop the straw fragments.
“Things that were once one can empathize across space and time. There was something in this doll that beat like a heart in its chest and spoke like a tongue. The Baeck element of Jeoong must return!”
By the principles of infection magic, the residue left from the broken doll, mere “remnants” or “leftovers,” naturally gathered into the tape recorder as wind flows along a path.
“Efficiency requires extracting every last bit until the very end.”
Jinseong aimed to maximize the magic’s effects; he placed the tape recorder on the remains and played it.
“—Manzan Pungsung, all beings, Toga Chilbo, Gyeo, Jilgyeong, Sa Mat Gil He—”
Listening to the song of Cheoyong from the tape recorder, Jinseong activated his teleportation magic once again.
Creak.
His destination: the Mansion.
Upon arrival, Jinseong immediately changed his clothes and took a bath in the Mansion, actions akin to purification rites meant to remove impurity from his body and erase any lingering odors. Due to the evil spirits that had congregated, Jinseong’s body had been imbued with an overwhelming stench, typical for potent evil spirits who carry foul odors. These spirits had been exposed to yin energy and humidity deep within the vertical cave for countless years, storing resentment that led to their distinctive corpse smell, combined with the rank aroma of decaying blood.
At least the smell of blood was tolerable. Had it been water pooled at the bottom of the vertical cave, water ghosts might’ve been present, their distinct fishy, decaying gas odor likely piercing the nose.
Thinking about the smell reminded Jinseong of the warrior who had tread barefoot on the vertical cave floor.
“These ghost smells linger even as time goes by; what an ordeal to the nose it must be.”
But what could be done?
Useless it was.
“If it had been even somewhat useful, it would have been better.”
Not even a precious hostage was requested.
If only the warrior had possessed even a little value, enough to create a negotiating table—that would have been enough.
“Troublemakers exist everywhere.”
The warrior had been deemed entirely useless by the Japanese and had been sent away to Korea. From Satsuma, where he continuously caused trouble, associating with rabble-rousers, wreaking havoc among the locals, and causing a ruckus while attempting to charm pretty women, he was trouble. Then he made a grave mistake of trying to seduce the niece of one of his school’s big benefactors. Thinking her an outsider, he carelessly advanced on her, and when he persisted too aggressively, he was reported. Due to this incident, he was entirely ostracized from his martial arts school, the Yatadoarangkryu. Once rejected, he faced subtle harassment, which eventually drove him to seek refuge with a Japanese-backed loan shark in Korea.
“Should one fail to recognize the powerholder, at least the nephew’s divine power should be acknowledged. Truly, ignorant and weak.”
There would be no return to his previous standing. The big benefactor of his martial arts sect was a Shinto priest, and the woman he pursued was a shamaness at the shrine. Outcast by his sect and looked down upon by the Shinto religious community, rumors of his unruly behavior, including his attempts to harass the shamaness, spread, leading to disapproval from the general public as well.
Someone might ask: Why not settle down in another region?
Japanese culture is exclusionary.
Even at a young age, a lone warrior moving to another region wouldn’t be viewed favorably, and if word of his transgressions in Satsuma ever spread, he might become a target of ostracism by the local community.
Hence, the warrior decided that Korea would be his new home. He joined the loan shark company and opened his heart to those there, intending to create a second home in Korea. But…
“Om.”
Ultimately, he would have to pay the price for his sins.
Had he even a modicum of respect where he originally was, had even the smallest value to be taken as a hostage, if he had practiced hard enough to give out valuable information regarding the ‘mystical martial arts that run on Mana’ Jinseong was seeking.
But there were many “ifs,” and none of them applied to his case.
“Since none of the ‘ifs’ apply and his fate was sealed, his death was justified.”
A simple story.
Regardless, the information extracted from him was valuable enough, and he did assist with the Jeoong magic—this was fortunate enough to prevent him from being considered completely trash.
“Using the Jeoong doll in supplication magic surely ensured Iarin will have a strong destiny with Japan.”
Jinseong carefully organized the information obtained from the warrior in his mind, plotting future actions once in Japan.
Time passed, and the results of the lottery were revealed.
“Huh? Russia?”
Iarin cheerfully voiced her surprise.
“Well, then, I… will go to Russia.”
Following her, Iserin set her destination.
Iserin appeared much lighter, as if some burden had been lifted, standing next to Iarin, while the shifting form of a Grimoire hovered between them both. Silent observer Jinseong was struck with a question.
“why?”
The query wasn’t about whether the Jeoong magic hadn’t worked properly or why she had been chosen for Russia instead of Japan.
The magic of supplication doesn’t guarantee specific outcomes; it enhances the flow of fortune and increases the likelihood of happy events, so her not being chosen for Japan wasn’t a problem to be analyzed.
Jinseong pondered over a more fundamental doubt.
“Since it’s this way now, it must have been the same before the rewind.”
His inquiry spanned the past and the future.
The residual mark of Jeoong magic and the fluctuating powers of fortune and karma.
All flowed toward the East, specifically excluding the Sea of Japan!
Reflecting on what he had missed prior to the rewind, this couldn’t be attributed to magic. Had it been magic, despite its grand scale, he would have noticed even a speck of its trace, regardless of his relative skill level.
Thus, it must have been tampering done by other means.
“Though ignorant once, it’s recognized now.”
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