NOVEL WEB Chapter 903
“Did you just peek into my brain?”
The agent looked at the shaman with a tense expression.
The question the shaman just asked was something Baba Yaga asks her visitors.
If you don’t answer that properly…
‘What was the answer again?’
I knew I had to mix two answers, not just say one, but it’s been so long that I can’t remember.
Grandma definitely told me once.
Why can’t I recall it now, in this situation?
‘I thought being treated as a guest would keep me safe.’
What a nightmare.
Didn’t they teach in hospitality that you shouldn’t harm your guests?
Even if they were enemies, if they come as guests, you shouldn’t hurt them.
Yet, the shaman throws out a question that could turn a guest into prey as if cutting through such carelessness…
The agent felt like he had walked right into the jaws of a monster.
As the tension heightened,
“Hahahaha! Don’t be so tense; I’m just joking.”
the shaman laughed loudly.
“Yeah. I think I know where you’re from.”
Then he lifted one leg and took a large step forward.
But strangely enough,
it felt like more than just one step; the sense of perspective was all off.
It felt like I was looking at a painting that played tricks on the eye.
‘I feel like I’ve seen something like this in a picture book before.’
Have you ever seen an optical illusion of two monsters running down a hallway?
Both were the same size, but due to the background, the monster in front looked smaller while the one behind looked larger.
The agent thought that this was how Park Jinseong looked right now.
It felt like this dark forest was breaking his sense of perspective and trapping him in an illusion. Like he had stepped into a nightmare, the protagonist of a scary fairy tale Grandma used to read to him…
“How did you spy on me? How did you follow me? When the moon rises, only rogues with swords come to take people’s money and life, yet how could you commit such rudeness against me?”
In that nightmare, the shaman came right up to the agent.
It was bizarre.
One step, yet it felt like so much more.
“The road doesn’t care about the identity of the traveler using it, and the forest doesn’t wonder about the past of the beasts that enter its embrace. How could you look at me like an owl trying to see through my entire life, or like a rat eager to hear my every move?”
The shaman slowly raised his hand.
Then he began to slowly change the shape of his hand.
Swish.
The sound of leaves rustling in the wind brushed past my ears.
A strange rejection and chill crept over me as my dry eyes locked onto the shaman.
The shaman’s hand transformed.
Like a crumbling sandcastle.
Swish.
A white hand crumbled away.
Just like a child sculpting with a sand shovel, the hand became thin and narrow.
The shaman slowly moved that hand towards the agent’s ear.
It felt like a bug crawling around my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
Memories of a centipede scooting past my ear during a training session, where I lay buried underground for days, flashed back. Was it the horrible memory coming back with that same training sensation? Or was it the shaman, pulling some sinister trick like Baba Yaga…
Tap.
As the agent froze, overwhelmed with thoughts, Park Jinseong’s finger slipped in and out of his ear.
The finger, slender and long as a reed, slid into his ear without much resistance and pulled out whatever was inside.
It was a tiny white device, smaller than a fingernail.
A small wireless earpiece he had inserted to receive real-time instructions.
“I know you’re a messenger. I know you’re a lion. Yet, insisting on talking to you when I know that it’s just like speaking to a scarecrow or talking into a phone that won’t turn on, what’s the difference?”
The shaman disregarded the frozen agent and spoke into the earphone, confident that someone was listening from the other side.
[…Phew. Nice to meet you. I’m Ivan, and I’m a guest.]
“Oh, is that so?”
The operator had no choice but to respond to the shaman’s certainty.
Yet having seen the shaman’s earlier behavior, he first introduced himself and requested to be treated as a guest.
Curiously, however, his presented name was the same as the frozen agent: ‘Ivan.’
At this point, it was pretty clear what this ‘Ivan’ name represented.
A code name.
Just as Korean agents use names like ‘Cheolsu’ or ‘Yeonghee,’ these agents used ‘Ivan’ as well.
“Let me take a guess. Your full name is Ivan Ivanovich Ivanov, isn’t it?”
[That’s correct.]
Hahaha!
The shaman cracked a joke and laughed loudly.
Then he turned his head and looked at the agent silently, before starting to change the shape of his reed-like hand once more.
Sharp pointed tip.
It took the form of a hollow needle.
The shaman slowly plunged it into the frozen agent.
Until the liquid in the coffin filled the agent’s body completely.
Then the agent’s frozen body became stiff like a wooden log, and the shaman casually pushed him down to the floor like handling a wooden puppet.
“Hey there. You’ve been rude to me.”
Staring at the wide-eyed, paralyzed agent, the shaman said,
“I was feeling great to receive such warm hospitality after a long time, and how could I meet such a rogue? This only makes it worse, making me feel the anger of someone falling from the sky into the abyss. So, is there anything wrong with me making you pay for it?”
[….]
Though he twisted his words a bit, the point was this.
Why did you make me feel bad by spying on me?
Feeling bad, I killed the person who was spying. It’s self-defense.
This was the kind of nonsense that left the operator floored.
‘You killed someone just because you felt bad, and now you say it’s our fault for making you feel bad, so you’re not guilty? Are you some devil spawned from hell?’
If you kill someone, shouldn’t you at least apologize? Why is he so defiant?
The thought that he was just bluffing crossed his mind. But that thought quickly faded.
Because there were agents who had already fallen dead, and another agent was stiff as if under a spell.
It became increasingly clear that this mad Romani shaman viewed human life as worthless as a fly.
‘Speaking of which, Viktor treated him with such grandeur…’
Viewing the shaman’s craziness, the operator began to rethink Viktor’s behavior.
They had suspicions about whether there was some scheme at play since the shaman was in contact with Viktor, or if he had been ordered by the President to watch them using some nasty black magic. Seeing Viktor treat this young shaman with such respect only fueled their doubts.
But now, perhaps that wasn’t the case.
Look.
The shaman’s actions.
After talking about being a guest, he suddenly throws out bizarre questions like he’s Baba Yaga, and nonchalantly kills people.
This was like the wicked shaman from fairy tales who offers human sacrifices as casually as a meal, isn’t it?
If you change the gender of the wicked witch in a fairy tale, wouldn’t she look just like that?
Viktor’s lavish treatment?
It might not be due to some ambition or scheme, but simply the most logical reaction to dealing with a character like that.
If he didn’t treat the shaman generously, who knows what kind of mischief he might unleash!
[…I am a guest, but do I have any shame? Even though I come empty-handed, if the host has a wish, I might know it or be able to retrieve it, so won’t you please tell me?]
The operator spoke slowly to the shaman.
Emphasizing his status as a guest with polite words.
“How could a host accept a gift from a guest? But since my livestock has caused harm, making amends isn’t necessarily wrong. It’s just to soothe my heartache, so how could I refuse such sincerity?”
The shaman replied as if waiting for the operator’s words.
Full of life and vigor.
The operator thought as he heard the shaman’s request.
‘Life? Vigor? Is he talking about aqua vita or something?’
Aqua vita.
It means distilled spirits.
From the perspective of Russians who drink vodka, full of life and grace, it wouldn’t be strange to think of vodka first upon hearing those words.
But the operator quickly dismissed that possibility.
This Romani middle-aged man didn’t look remotely Russian, and clearly didn’t seem like the type to happily accept drinks and say, ‘What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.’ Rather, he looked more like a lunatic wanting to find an excuse to kill and offer sacrifices.
‘Or, is it life force he’s asking for?’
Next, the thought of life force came to mind.
It’s known as a witches’ special ability and is related to the cycle of life and death.
“I don’t mind if you don’t give me anything. One would be suitable for a sacrifice—a dead sheep, and one still breathes, so it wouldn’t be too bad to use it as well. If you don’t provide it, I can always use this livestock for the ritual.”
With the shaman’s continued words, the operator became certain.
This madman clearly wanted something related to ‘life force’ for a purpose he wouldn’t share.
[…Can I ask what purpose you intend to use it for?]
“Haha. Didn’t I say? It’s for my body. Once I’ve relieved my heartache, I’ll be on my way, so I hope you won’t take up any more of my time.”
Life force, life force.
‘Should I call this luck or not?’
As it turns out, there was one item provided to them.
It was said to have been developed together with witches at some research institute…
A prototype product made in limited quantities for units directly under the President or intelligence agencies.
‘They said that if taken with Pervitin-06, you could last for more than a week without sleeping.’
The operator stared at the small plastic pill container.
Black pills they said were made from some weird animal fetus.
They warned about possible cancer as a side effect, so it always felt a bit off…
Even though it was labeled as a prototype, it looked like a failure at first glance.
Since it seemed a waste to throw away, they probably thought it should be handed out…
But perhaps this was a good turn of events.
They could get rid of a troublesome item and the shaman could obtain a life force item without any major conflicts.
No matter how important pride may be, it should be balanced with the situation.
What good is defending pride against a madman?
If that devil is offering to go, wouldn’t it be wiser to give this and wrap things up?
The operator thought that way.
But the decision rested with someone else.
He turned his head slightly to look at the team leader.
Asking him to decide what to do.
After a moment’s consideration, the team leader spoke.
“Give it to him.”
The operator thought.
…It seems the team leader was on the same page.