“Where shall I take you?”
The taxi driver glanced up at the rearview mirror. The passenger who had just climbed into the back seat was a middle-aged woman. The moment their eyes met, he instinctively lowered his gaze. There was something about her—despite the neat suit, or perhaps because of it—that gave off an inexplicable chill and force.
“Please take me to Jongno Cathedral.”
After stating her destination in a clipped tone, the woman pulled a stack of papers from her bag. The driver set the car in motion at once. On a weekday evening after rush hour, the Jongno area was moderately quiet. He turned up the radio and lowered the driver’s side window a little.
“It would be better not to open that window.”
At that, the woman—who had kept her eyes fixed on the documents the entire time—suddenly spoke.
“Pardon?”
“Not yours. Open the passenger-side window.”
“Ah, yes...”
Wearing a baffled expression, the driver did as she said. Her tone was impeccably polite, yet somehow imperious. Like someone who was used to giving orders. All throughout the drive, he kept sneaking glances at her. She ought to have noticed, but she never lifted her head once. When the taxi reached the area near Jongno Cathedral, the woman pulled out some bills and handed them over.
The driver checked the amount and his eyes flew wide. The fare was only a little over seven thousand won. But what she had handed him was two fifty-thousand-won notes.
A full hundred thousand won.
“No need for change. Use the rest for a car wash.”
“What?”
“And after it’s cleaned, sprinkle salt over the car.”
At those incomprehensible words, the driver could only stare in confusion.
“I-I’m sorry, what does that—”
The woman looked at him for a moment, then answered as calmly as ever.
“Your car is dirty.”
Dirty? He had it washed half a day ago.
The driver, flustered, was just about to protest when the woman got out and slammed the rear door shut without the slightest hesitation. BANG. The sound made him jolt. Still expressionless, she took a tumbler from her bag. Without a moment’s hesitation, she unscrewed the lid and poured the contents all over the roof of the taxi. An unidentifiable dark crimson liquid cascaded over the body of the car.
“H-Hey! Ma’am! You—what do you think you’re doing?!”
The driver’s shouting came muffled from inside the cab. Whether he yelled or not, the woman simply turned her back and started walking away. For the first time, irritation crept across the face that had remained blank from start to finish. As she smoothed the wrinkles from her rumpled suit, she clicked her tongue in displeasure.
Some of the liquid had splashed onto her sleeve.
A moment earlier, when the driver lowered his window, she had seen a mouthless ghost clinging to the side mirror outside. It had not been there when she got in, so there was no telling when it had attached itself. The instant its eyes met hers, the ghost—lacking a mouth—crinkled its eyes grotesquely into a broad grin instead. There was no sign of reason in it. A worthless wandering spirit, clearly.
She sensed no particular malice from it, but if it interfered with the driver and caused an accident, the consequences could be serious. Leaving it alone had not been an option. In principle, ghosts were to be annihilated, but she could not use her power in front of an ordinary civilian. To destroy a ghost required either ghostly force or a talisman. In cases like this, the best one could do was drive it off.
A petty spirit clinging to her before she had even entered the Office. Judging by that alone, today was going to be cursed.
So Seok Juryeon thought.
In her experience, accumulated over many years, that was how such days began. Instinct born of long practice was rarely wrong.
“Tch.”
The brow of Seok Juryeon, Director of the Spirit Suppression Unit at the Office of Narye, twitched.
*****
When the sun went down, ghosts roamed free. ƒreewebɳovel.com
And that meant the Naja grew busy as well.
For ordinary people, this was the hour to finish their work and head home, but for the Naja it was the opposite. If anything, it was the start of a long and exhausting day. Seok Juryeon, who had been headed toward Jongno Cathedral, slowly changed direction.
Jongno Cathedral was a decoy.
Always be cautious. Then more cautious still.
Maintaining secrecy was one of the most basic rules drilled into every member upon entering the Office of Narye. The place Seok Juryeon was truly heading for lay across from it.
Jongmyo—the royal ancestral shrine of the Joseon dynasty.
The Office of Narye, which had endured since the Goryeo era, had officially been dissolved a little over two hundred years ago. After a long blank stretch, it was rebuilt in the modern age and established itself on one side of Jongmyo. When countless buildings rose and fell across the years, the spiritual force of the land was bound to grow thin and muddied, but Jongmyo remained clean in energy and secure in character. Though it stood in the very center of the city, it was also the ideal place to hide from the eyes of ordinary people.
Long past visiting hours, the area around Jongmyo was deserted. Each step Seok Juryeon took rang out in the silence on the heels of her shoes. The gate into Jongmyo was tightly shut. She took hold of the large iron ring handle and rapped on the wooden door five times, as though knocking.
BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.
“I request that the gate be opened.”
The instant she finished speaking, the ring handle clattered. Then, with a creak, the door opened. The moment she stepped through the gap, it closed by itself behind her. It felt as though someone unseen had opened and shut it for her. Though the interior of Jongmyo was pitch-dark, not a single light in sight, Seok Juryeon walked through it with the ease of someone crossing a bright afternoon street. She stopped only when she reached the Main Hall.
The Main Hall of Jongmyo housed the spirit tablets of past kings and queens, and from the outside it appeared to have nineteen long doors set side by side.
Outwardly, at least.
To the eyes of an ordinary person, there were only nineteen doors. To the eyes of a Naja, there were twenty.
The twentieth door, hidden at the very end, led to the Office of Narye.
Standing before it, Seok Juryeon lifted the key card hanging from her neck. When she slid it into the narrow gap between the pillars, the talisman engraved within it flashed brightly.
The wooden door opened, and before her spread a wide, pleasant space. From the outside it looked like nothing more than an aging wooden structure, but the interior of the Office of Narye was sleek and modern, done in a polished contemporary style. It looked no different from the headquarters of any major corporation. Naja moving busily through the lobby of the Office immediately bowed deeply the moment they saw Seok Juryeon enter.
“Good evening, Director!”
“Good evening, Director!”
Seok Juryeon gave a curt nod.
“Contact the Purification Unit and tell them to wash the Jongno district. Wandering spirits are out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And request patrol support from the Covert Division.”
“Understood.”
At her command, the two Naja dispersed without delay.
The Office of Narye consisted of five departments in total. Of them, the Covert Division, which concealed its identity and patrolled among civilians, and the Purification Unit, which cleansed away taint, were the departments fighting on the very front lines of the field.
In the past, the Office of Narye had been established under the pretext of guarding the palace, but in the modern era, as time passed, it had naturally transformed into an institution that protected the civilian world. Where the police stood in the light, the Naja stood in the shadows.
It was not a truth the public knew.
Even across the political and business worlds, only a small handful of high-ranking figures knew the Office of Narye existed.
Of course, among their own kind, there was no gifted person ignorant of the Office of Narye. But the matter was different for ordinary civilians who neither believed in ghosts nor had the ability to see them. Ordinary people must not know of this world.
Better for them not to know.
That was better for everyone.
Just then, an urgent voice came flying in from afar.
“Director! Director Seok!”
It was Han Juyoung, senior Naja of Spirit Suppression Unit Team Two and Seok Juryeon’s direct subordinate. Judging by how he had apparently run all the way from the office to the lobby, Han Juyoung was heaving for breath, his chest rising and falling sharply.
“What is it?”
“You haven’t received the report yet? We got word that a child’s soul has been abducted.”
So that was it. She had known the premonition was bad.
She had not even been inside the Office for five minutes.
Letting out a small sigh, Seok Juryeon asked calmly,
“What are the circumstances?”
At his superior’s question, Han Juyoung straightened his back at once, despite his panting.
“First, the child fell unconscious despite showing no physical abnormality whatsoever. Second, the father dreamed that the child was taken from him. Third, bruises the father sustained from falling in that dream remained as real injuries in waking life.”
“That’s plausible enough. Put two senior-level people from Spirit Suppression on standby. Once the field investigation is roughly wrapped up, they need to be ready to move immediately. Did you request cooperation from the Purification Unit?”
“Yes, ma’am. The investigation is already complete, and Spirit Suppression Unit Team Two is standing by.”
Not bad.
Han Juyoung had already moved quickly and taken action, and what he had done matched exactly what Seok Juryeon herself would have ordered. His judgment had been clean and precise. So much so that there had been no real need to chase down his superior the moment she walked in, panting for breath just to report it.
“Well done. Then why are you making such a fuss?”
Seok Juryeon arched a brow.
“Ah, that’s...”
Han Juyoung swallowed hard before choosing his words.
“The child’s father... is the president of Jugyeong Construction.”
“What?!”
Seok Juryeon’s face twisted instantly.
“Senior Han, are you incapable of assessing a situation properly?”
“M-my apologies. Then... what should we do?”
“What do you mean, what should we do?!”
A moment ago she had been giving him quiet praise. Now Seok Juryeon snapped in fury. Startled, Han Juyoung bowed his head at once, flustered.
Jugyeong Construction was a company famous for its young self-made president.
At least, that was the story in the public eye.
And naturally, rare information unknown to the outside world had a way of flowing into the Office of Narye.
The modern Office of Narye, responsible for policing the shadows, was a state secret agency operating under the Prime Minister—
“Withdraw every request for interdepartmental cooperation. Issue a notice to every department to keep their mouths shut.”
—and the so-called self-made young president of Jugyeong Construction was the Prime Minister’s illegitimate son.
“Th-then what about retrieving the soul...?”
“We send one Naja. There’s no other way if we want to keep this °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° from leaking upward.”
Someone had harmed his family. If the Prime Minister learned of it, he would surely explode with rage over how the matter had been handled. It was the kind of situation in which he might even try to hold the Office of Narye responsible for negligence. The case had to be resolved as quietly as possible, without a whisper escaping outside.
“One? But Director, one is too few. If something goes wrong—”
“I’m sending someone who won’t fail even if he dies and comes back. Do as you’re told.”
At times like this, you needed someone discreet—someone whose mouth stayed shut, and whose skill no one could question.
“Where is Yoon Taehee right now?”
Seok Juryeon ran a hand back through her hair, her face set hard.