Chapter 25
I opened the shutter of the fried chicken shop that had been left unattended for weeks.
The inside of the store was a complete mess.
Tables and chairs were overturned and scattered across the floor, and rotten pieces of fried chicken and bits of tissue lay strewn everywhere.
Donghun’s father trembled as he looked at the state of the shop.
It seemed like fear and anger were mixed together inside him.
“Let’s first find out what object was used in the ritual.”
As soon as I spoke, everyone scattered to search.
But even after a long search, nothing unusual appeared.
—This is like finding a needle in Seoul. How are you supposed to find anything in this mess?
The red eyes shook their head.
At that moment, Kim Gi-jin began whistling—fiu fiu.
—What are you doing?
“Ghosts pay attention when they hear whistling. If there’s a cursed object here, it’ll still be attracting spirits.”
—Wow, you’ve got brains too?
Ignoring the red eyes’ sarcasm, Kim Gi-jin kept whistling.
Fiu, fiu—
Then he moved toward the kitchen and suddenly shouted.
“Found it!”
We rushed over.
In Kim Gi-jin’s hand was a small delivery box, about the size of his palm.
He opened it.
Inside was something like a dried-out wooden figure shaped like a human.
There was a hole in its head, and dozens of thin nails were driven into its body. Around the abdomen, bundles of hair-like material were tied with thread and nailed down.
Inside the box were also many talismans (ofuda) pasted everywhere.
“Sir, was this originally here?”
“No… I’ve never seen this before.”
Donghun’s father shook his head at Kim Gi-jin’s question.
At first glance, it just looked like an ordinary parcel box, as if someone had mistakenly left it behind. But a cold, eerie energy was clearly leaking from it.
A black mist-like aura slowly rose and spread around.
“The spiritual energy is quite strong. Give it to me.”
Lee Hae-mi spoke.
Kim Gi-jin immediately handed her the box.
“This is something like a lure that attracts ghosts. I don’t know which shaman made it, but it was used to gather restless spirits in this shop, causing accidents and harming people continuously.”
—What a vicious shaman… using curses to harm people.
The red eyes frowned in disgust.
“Is there a way to deal with it?” I asked.
Lee Hae-mi nodded.
“All curses can be returned to their origin. If this is sent back to the shaman who created it, it will become several times stronger.”
“Then the shaman will receive the curse back?”
“He will probably try to dispel it.”
“And then what happens?”
“That curse will eventually return to the person who commissioned it. I’ll take this and handle it properly.”
She said confidently.
—Hey, you can do that kind of thing too?
the red eyes asked Kim Gi-jin.
“I haven’t learned that yet. My grandmother will teach me eventually.”
Kim Gi-jin answered, slightly deflated.
“Now that the spiritual issue is resolved, let’s move on to the practical one.”
Everyone focused on me.
“The remaining question is: who ordered this and placed it here? Who could enter this kitchen?”
“Not many people. Mostly just me and my wife.”
“Think carefully. Who could have entered the kitchen naturally without raising suspicion?”
After a moment of silence, Donghun’s father suddenly looked up.
“My brother…?”
“Your brother?”
“Yes. Other than me and my wife, the only person who came in here was him.”
“Your real brother?”
“No. Not blood-related. He runs the Chinese restaurant next door. We opened around the same time. At first, my chicken shop was doing well, but his restaurant was struggling.”
One day, the Chinese restaurant owner came to borrow money.
He said he was behind even on employee wages and rent.
Crying, he begged—and Donghun’s father lent him 10 million won.
But soon after, things completely reversed.
The chicken shop began suffering constant accidents, while the Chinese restaurant suddenly became crowded and successful.
Donghun’s father went to ask for the money back.
But the restaurant owner kept delaying repayment.
When Donghun’s mother also became ill, he urgently demanded the money again.
Still, the restaurant owner only promised without ever paying, as if waiting for them to collapse from exhaustion.
“Other than us, the only person who could enter the kitchen so freely was the owner of the Chinese restaurant next door, Cheonghwaru. Can I report him for hiring a shaman and placing a curse?”
Donghun’s father asked me.
“That is not something the law recognizes.”
“Then what can we do?”
“You said you lent him ten million won?”
“Yes.”
“Cash or bank transfer?”
“Bank transfer, of course.”
“Have you ever formally demanded repayment?”
“Countless times. I visited, called, begged, even got angry. When my wife was sick, we didn’t even have hospital money… Looking back, he just sat on the money and refused to return it. I was foolish to trust him.”
He bit his lip tightly.
That kind of self-blame often leads to deeper emotional wounds.
I spoke firmly.
“Mr. Donghun’s father. The victim is not at fault. The wrongdoer is the criminal. Do you have any records—texts or messages—where you asked him to repay the money?”
“Texts?”
“Yes. Anything is fine—messages or recordings. Anything showing you demanded repayment.”
“I do. I sent dozens of texts because he wouldn’t answer calls.”
“Good. Then we can file a fraud case. Would you like me to proceed?”
“Fraud?”
“Yes. We file a criminal complaint first to pressure him, then pursue a civil claim to recover the money.”
“But can you really file fraud charges over just ten million won?”
Kim Gi-jin interrupted.
“To him, that amount probably feels small.”
“Of course it’s possible. If someone borrows money without intent or ability to repay and deceives the lender, it constitutes fraud. If he has prior fraud convictions, he could even face prison time. We push it as far as possible.”
“Wow… impressive.”
Kim Gi-jin’s eyes widened.
Then Donghun’s father spoke again.
“I just remembered… that man was fined for fraud two years ago. He even said he was innocent while drinking with me.”
“Then it’s a repeat offense. And since there’s no repayment, avoiding prison will be difficult.”
“Thank you… lawyer.”
“This is what I’m here for.”
“My friend, I’m proud of you. Our Yoo lawyer is the best!”
Kim Gi-jin exaggerated dramatically.
And so Donghun’s case was concluded.
Kim Gi-jin opened his phone.
“Well, that’s done. Is there a good hangover soup place nearby…?”
“We will return to Seoul now.”
Lee Hae-mi cut him off sharply.
It felt awkward making them come all this way just to send them back.
“Won’t you at least eat before you go?”
“No. We cannot travel around with this object.”
She pointed at the box.
Kim Gi-jin muttered and shoved his phone into his pocket.
They left for a shaman’s house in Seoul carrying the cursed box.
“Are you going to meet Donghun now?”
Donghun’s father’s face brightened, then darkened again.
“I want to… but everything at home is still a mess. I’ll take a few more days to clean everything properly before I bring him back.”
He asked hesitantly.
“Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of Donghun.”
Two days later, after cleaning his house and shop completely, Donghun’s father came to pick him up.
“Dad? Dad!”
Donghun was quick-witted. He immediately sensed his father’s condition.
“Donghun!”
His father hugged him tightly, shoulders shaking.
“I’m sorry for leaving you alone… you must have been scared… I’m sorry, my son.”
“It’s okay. Don’t cry. I knew you would come back.”
“How could I leave you, so young…”
“Auntie fed me delicious food, and Sister Yeonhee played with me. I was okay, Dad.”
The eight-year-old gently patted his father’s back.
But the father’s tears didn’t stop.
“Come eat. I’ve prepared the table,” my mother said.
We all sat together—Donghun’s father, Donghun, my mother, Yeonhee, and me.
The meal was homemade: spicy crab soup with plump crab and zucchini, beef soy-braised for Donghun, well-fermented kimchi, sweet radish greens, bellflower root, and burdock root side dishes.
“It’s really delicious.”
A meal made with sincerity carries good energy.
Donghun’s father seemed to regain some strength after eating.
His aura became brighter and more stable.
“Donghun even seems to have gained some weight. Thank you so much.”
He kept thanking us repeatedly.
“My mother packed side dishes and kimchi into plastic containers for him.”
“Come by anytime, Donghun. If you pass by our shop, come in and eat, okay?”
“Yes.”
My mother sent them off with food containers and side dishes, telling them to visit anytime.
From a distance, I saw Donghun’s father and Donghun waving, and beside them, a faint female figure.
—It’s Donghun’s mother!
The red eyes groaned.
Her ghost was much fainter than before—ragged, nearly disappearing.
She must have fought off evil spirits to protect her husband and son, nearly destroying herself in the process.
She bowed deeply toward our family.
Watching her limp behind them made my chest tighten.
The red eyes also seemed to feel the same.
—That woman will stay with them until she disappears.
“Can’t she go to the afterlife like other ghosts?”
—Suicide ghosts aren’t taken by the Grim Reapers. They’re left behind as punishment.
“But she was driven by evil spirits…”
—Still, the final choice was hers. Even if it’s unfair… no matter how hard life is, you must endure. Death isn’t the end.
The red eyes’ voice trembled.
“Hyung… Donghun will be happier now, right?”
“Yes. His father is better now, and you and my mother will take good care of him. He’ll be much happier than before.”
“Thanks for helping him, hyung.”
I patted Yeonhee’s head.
