Chapter 5: Snakes and Carols

“There are many things I intend to reclaim from you, including the humiliation of casting my son out to the mortal world with my own hands.”

The man brushed past Yeonhwa.

“Did you come all this way just to deliver such petty warnings and threats? You, the king of the fifth hell.”

“Ah, I really dislike that tongue of yours. I feel like cutting your throat right now.”

His broad back exuded a murderous aura disguised as nonchalance.

The king of the underworld was inherently a being without blood or tears. In mythology, he was recorded as Yama, one of the Ten Kings of the Underworld.

“The shaman will die in six days.”

Then, the retainers, including the Three Messengers, rose from the ground. There were many, but the man’s stature was so immense that his head towered above them.

“This time, hide well. You wouldn’t want to suffer the disgrace of being dragged back and shown the Mirror of Karma again. If you wish, I can grant you mercy and annihilate you on the spot.”

His throaty chuckle struck like a blade. Yeonhwa spat blood as if struck, and soon collapsed to the ground.

“You cannot enter.”

Just as he was about to step onto the third stair leading to the main hall, two children, barely reaching his waist, flanked Ahn Dae-young from both sides.

Despite their adorable appearance, their voices were brimming with the authority of generals.

Though they looked like cute children, they were actually guardian deities of the church.

If Yama ruled in hell, then in heaven, there was Jesus, referring to God.

Only the names differed slightly by country; the entity was the same.

But whether heaven or hell, they both used the mortal world as a neutral zone, and both had their hands full managing the afterlife.

Humans who died here either went up or down depending on their sins, or were annihilated before even reaching the crossroads.

But they never went quietly.

There were far more troublesome souls than imagined—those who, even in death, clung to self-interest and went mad with greed and vengeance, stubbornly remaining in the mortal world.

This was the mortal world.

Those who refused to move on and became evil spirits coveted living bodies.

Their dark desire to borrow a body and indulge their greed far outweighed any instinct to return as a human.

Occasionally, evil spirits would pretend to be gods and infiltrate a shaman’s body to cause havoc.

There were those who could see ghosts or had their spiritual eyes opened even though they weren’t shamans…

For convenience, people called this “having one’s eyes opened.”

And the cases where ghosts clung most often were not those with weak energy or poor physical health.

It was those with “opened eyes.”

Jeong Eun-gyu was probably one of them. A kid with opened eyes.

But there had never been a case where snakes, rather than a variety of horrifying ghosts, attacked someone en masse.

In hell, snakes were a derogatory term for the imugi, a lesser dragon before becoming a true dragon.

They were mostly objects of ridicule.

In the seventh hell, governed by the Seventh King Taesan, sinners were placed in the center and snakes were released in droves.

On the other hand, the meaning of snakes in heaven was quite different from hell.

Genesis 3:1 recorded the snake as follows:

[Now the serpent was more crafty than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the garden’?”]

Satan, who entered the snake, made Adam and Eve eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, which God had strictly forbidden.

After eating the fruit, they realized they were naked and covered their genitals with fig leaves.

They did not die from eating the fruit.

They simply became aware of desire.

The snake used as Satan’s medium lost its legs, left with only a body, and survived by eating dust.

Crafty and cunning. The snake has long been known as Satan’s animal.

Ahn Dae-young alternated his gaze between the two sturdy guardian deities attached to his sides.

There was no way they would show the grace to be caught.

Their clinging was truly annoying.

“Why not? What’s the reason I can’t enter?”

“Are you not from another world?”

Ah, right. Another world.

Ahn Dae-young gestured with his chin toward the wide-open main hall.

“If I see even one goblin inside, I’ll cut your necks and hang them right away, right?”

“You cannot. Didn’t you cause dangerous trouble in the church last time? It could have harmed the laypeople.”

Palm-sized wings sprouted from the guardians’ backs.

They looked ready to grab one of his arms each and fly off at any moment.

They looked like kids, but they were loyal protectors of the church.

Ahn Dae-young deliberately smirked.

“Hey, kids… I’m here to work, work. Don’t you know I’m the garbage disposal unit?”

When their round eyes flew wide open, Ahn Dae-young’s hands had already grabbed each guardian by the scruff of the neck.

Caught firmly in his large grip, the startled guardians thrashed wildly.

“Let go! If you don’t, we’ll shoot arrows!”

“Oh, the famous Cupid’s arrows? You guys have those too? Good, that. If so, pick your targets well. I’ve been so busy lately I’ve skipped s*x and I’m about to burst. Convenient.”

“Y-you…! The Father will not forgive you!”

“I’m not joking. Enough. Let the adults talk, so you kids take a nap.”

A thud, like a can bursting, and the guardians passed out on the spot.

Without even glancing at the fallen guardians, Ahn Dae-young dusted off his hands and climbed the remaining stairs.

“It was noisy, so I came out, and sure enough, it’s you.”

Father Peter, walking from a distance, exuded delight.

Ahn Dae-young pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. It was a boorish act as if he didn’t realize this was a church.

“I knew you’d come. It’s been a while.”

“Why did you send someone who’s going to die this month?”

He lit a cigarette and threw the remark. No greetings, no formalities—he despised pretense.

“Even his past life is invisible. What’s up with him?”

“He’s the only son of a shaman.”

“Are there only one or two shamans in this country? You’re playing twenty questions with me?”

“Right… you’re correct. There’s more than one shaman in this country. But if I say he’s the last shaman left in Mugwangsan, that makes him special.”

A long ash fell from the cigarette in Ahn Dae-young’s mouth and scattered in the wind.

His expression went beyond blank; his eyes darkened as if sinking into the deep sea.

The last shaman remaining in Mugwangsan. He didn’t remember the name well, but an imugi was hiding inside that shaman.

At the time, Ahn Dae-young was involved in a trial over an unsavory incident, so he didn’t see it himself. He only ‘heard’ it was so.

“Do you have any idea why I sent him?”

That was also the reason Ahn Dae-young worked his ass off in human form.

To capture the last remaining imugi in the world. If he did, the banishment would be lifted, and he would be seated as the eleventh grand king of hell.

The fruit of knowledge of hell. Unlike Adam and Eve, Ahn Dae-young had no choice.

“…Snake.”

“Is it just snakes? I hear carols. I’ve been able to shield him within my power so far… but I can’t anymore. That’s why I sent him to you, Dae-young.”

“… .”

According to the resume, Jeong Eun-gyu’s birthday was December 25th, and on his forehead was written ‘December.’

Normally, the remaining lifespan showed the year as well, but only the month was written, so in the natural order, Jeong Eun-gyu would die within this month.

Carols. Christmas. The snakes and ghosts that had begun to appear sporadically. Birthday. Carols. Christmas. Snakes. Shaman. Imugi.

Ahn Dae-young’s eyes then turned to Father Peter’s forehead.

No matter how devout a Catholic and exorcist priest he was, he was still just a human.

So naturally, the date of death was also branded on Father Peter’s forehead in sizzling letters.

“Ha.”

Ahn Dae-young threw away his cigarette and turned around, dumbfounded, without a word of farewell.

Even without looking, he knew Father Peter was watching his retreating back with his hands clasped behind him. It was always like that.

As he passed by, he looked down at the unconscious guardians. “Get up. How long are you going to sleep?” He nudged them with his toes, one by one, then glanced at the statue of the Virgin Mary.

She was a benevolent being. So she must have let him be, even though he was a killer.

If she truly intended to block Ahn Dae-young’s entry, she would have come herself, not sent guardian spirits.

Lost in thought until he got into the car, Ahn Dae-young touched the screen of his work phone thrown on the passenger seat.

There was a missed call from the client, but he ignored it and searched his contacts to call Kim Seok-ho.

He was too lazy to take out his personal phone from his inner pocket.

Kim Seok-ho always answered, recognizing it was Ahn Dae-young whether he called from the work or personal phone.

The call connected quickly, and Kim Seok-ho picked up. In the background, the sound of a copier spewing paper was heard.

“Is the professor awake?”

“Yes. He was awake for about 15 minutes but went back to sleep. Chief Cha is also here.”

“Feed him first. I’m on my way.”

“Boss, do you want jajangmyeon?”

“You eat a lot yourself.”

On Father Peter’s forehead was written ‘December’ just like Jeong Eun-gyu. There was no way he misread it.

His fingertips tapped the steering wheel rhythmically—tok, tok, tok.

It was a while later that a glint returned to Ahn Dae-young’s eyes.

****

Dazed. His body felt heavy as if drugged, and he could barely open his eyelids.

…How long have I slept?

It was a natural bodily reaction after tossing and turning for over ten days before finally passing out.

He couldn’t remember the last time he slept so peacefully without ghosts gnawing at his brain.

Jeong Eun-gyu, his gaze hazy, looked down at his neatly arranged jacket, tie, and socks, then touched his forehead.

Two buttons of his shirt were undone.

“You awake?”

He remembered passing out while the sun was up, and it was still bright outside.

As he put his lips to the mug Kim Seok-ho handed him, lukewarm water filled his dry mouth.

He forced his stiff body up and asked.

“What time is it…?”

“Four o’clock.”

Four? Frowning, Jeong Eun-gyu lowered his legs off the bed, his muscles feeling utterly drained.

“I’ve only slept a couple of hours…?”

Kim Seok-ho smiled at him, just like yesterday.

“You slept for twenty-four hours. A whole day. Ah, you must be confused because you came in the daytime.”

“…Ah.”