"Oh god, it's crazy hot."
The man wiped the sweats droplets trickling down his chin with the back of his hand, surprised by the searing heat despite the supposed beginning of fall.
Despite the arrival of autumn, the oppressive heat clung to the air, refusing to yield to the promise of cooler weather.
A crow soared across the distant sky. Envious of its freedom, the man paused to quench his thirst, dipping his parched throat into the cool, flowing water.
With a brief rest, he resumed his walking.
After climbing for a while, a humble thatched cottage appeared. Seating himself on a small platform with dried peppers left to dry, he called out to the landlord without much greetings.
"Hey! Come out for a moment!"
The owner remained silent.
"Hey, Shaman!"
Calling again, but still no response. Frustrated, the impatient man couldn't wait any longer and approached the door to see for himself.
Just as he was about to open the door, the owner got out, saying
"Hey, you wretched guy! Are you trying to barge into the house where the deity resides without a care?"
A thunderous roar struck him. The woman, surprisingly startled by his bulky stature, pushed his chest.
"Goodness, you surprised me. Mind your presence a bit."
"Calm down. The deity is asleep."
Deity, huh? More like a ghost, if anything.
Grumbling, the man returned to the table.
"Why have you come again?"
The shaman, with a money pouch at her side, bluntly asked.
"On a scorching day like this, what other reason would bring someone to a humble shaman? I came to ask something."
Without explanation, the shaman extended her hand, demanding payment. The man, muttering, tossed a pouch of money without bothering to count. The shaman, without confirming the amount, swiftly stashed it in her pouch.
"What do you want to know?"
"You know, but you still ask. A bounty hunter tracking down escaped slaves, catching them, and getting paid, what else does a guy who makes a living through bounty hunting want to know?"
The man's true identity was that of a bounty hunter. The shaman served as a valuable source of information for bounty hunters.
"Give me your fortune."
"He go by Eun-oh, and he's just a twenty
year-old guy. That's all I know. Instead, I brought you this."
The bounty hunter presented a wanted poster to the shaman. The shaman's gaze swept over the ink-drowned face with indifferent look.
"Can you see something?"
The bounty hunter's face was filled with anticipation. Having dealt with this skillful shaman before, he was accustomed to handling money regularly. He believed this time would be another big success. However, the shaman's response mercilessly crushed his expectations.
"He's already gone to the afterlife."
"What? Are you saying he's dead?"
"Will a living man go to the afterlife?"
A heavy hand rose to the bounty hunter's forehead, fingers tracing the furrowed brows.
The person he was supposed to find had died?
YOU ARE READING
Daldal: Main story
General FictionIn the secluded solitude of Mount Moak, 19-year-old Eun-oh has spent his entire life following his late mother's dying wish-to "live alone." However, fate takes a chilling turn when desperation leads him to steal from a mysterious man entering the...
