Limits of Paradise

It had been a long time since Tae-eun visited the Hajung Library.

The library, which was built around the time she graduated from elementary school, was once a shiny, modern facility. Now, it showed signs of aging.

She was worried she wouldn’t find the book she was looking for since it was out of print, but fortunately, the library had a copy. Her slow steps came to a stop at the fourteenth bookshelf.

As she crouched down, a familiar spine caught her eye. Apart from the yellowing edges, it looked relatively untouched.

<The World Beyond the Line>

Tae-eun carefully took the book to a designated reading area in the library. The reason she sought out this book was because of its author.

Nam Dae-hyung.

The father of the shaman. The only connection she could find between Hyun-ho and the shaman.

She couldn’t understand why she was delving into this, why she couldn’t just take her boyfriend’s words at face value.

But as Hyun-ho himself acknowledged, that night was filled with tension. The night breeze, Hyun-ho, herself, and the shaman were all unusually on edge. They greeted the next day as if nothing had happened, but the uneasy air from that night still lingered inside her.

When she thought about the strange events that had occurred around her in the short span of less than two months, Hyun-ho was always there at the beginning. She had ignored it until now, but after that night, she felt she needed to address it.

[This writing is neither complete truth nor perfect fiction. It contains stories passed down from my father’s father.]

The book began by hinting that it was an autobiographical novel. As Tae-eun turned the pages, she paused. The setting of the novel was a village in Jeju Island.

[From the moment I could understand words, my grandfather often talked about ‘the god.’ He said that the god, who is invisible to our eyes, is deeply asleep but always by our side, so we must speak and act properly.]

The author dedicated many pages to writing about ‘the god.’ The stories were so fantastical that Tae-eun started flipping through the pages more quickly.

[During my grandfather’s funeral, my father fainted several times. The mourners shouted to call a doctor, but my mother firmly said it wasn’t an illness.

On the day we buried my grandfather in the ancestral grave, my father held my hand and walked for a long time. We reached a place after three hours, where thousands of camellia trees were planted.]

Tae-eun held her breath and blinked. Her heart raced as she felt she was getting closer to something.

[It was late June, yet the red camellia flowers were in full bloom. I forgot about my aching feet and stared blankly at the out-of-season scenery. My father hurried me along to the innermost part of the field.

There was a very small tombstone there.

My father explained to me in a solemn voice.

“This is the god I will serve from now on. When I die, you will serve him.”

“What about when I die?”

“Your child will serve him.”]

Tae-eun thought of the shaman with the glowing skin. Did spiritual power run in their family?

[“What does the god look like? Will I be able to recognize him?”

My father paused before speaking.

“His hair is bright like sunlight, and his eyes are fierce like a tiger’s.”]

Why did Hyun-ho come to mind at this moment?

Tae-eun reread the same sentence several times. Hyun-ho’s face from yesterday overlapped with the old print. Her short-trimmed nails pressed anxiously into the yellowed paper.

[People from Seoul came and offered to buy the land to build a hotel. The land, adjacent to the coastal road, could be sold at a high price, but as the representative, I shook my head.

“The landowner is currently unavailable.”

“Is there no way to contact him? We really want to purchase that land.”

The land was where the god resided. When I ignored them, the impatient men recklessly dug around the site.

A few days later, a man named Mr. Hwang drank pesticide and committed suicide at the entrance of the site. It was the will of the god.]

Was this part fact or fiction?

Tae-eun hesitated, unable to move past the page. The last news of Ha Sung-joo, which she had tried to bury deep down, poked at her mind.

[As I write this book, I occasionally imagine the moment the god will awaken again. The moment he reads this book, and thus the moment he punishes the messenger who revealed his secret.]

When she reached the end, Tae-eun stood up abruptly and checked out the book. She called a taxi to the front of the library.

“Please take me to Shin-yeong Mart in Jeongin 2-dong.”

Her destination was the shaman’s house.

* * *

“Do you have an appointment?”

As Tae-eun entered through the front door, a young woman in a simple hanbok approached her. Her youthful face, devoid of makeup, resembled the shaman’s.

“Please tell the shaman my name is Song Tae-eun.”

The woman clearly didn’t like the unannounced visitor. She gestured for Tae-eun to leave, opening the door as if to usher her out.

But having come this far, Tae-eun wasn’t about to hesitate. Ignoring the open door, she walked inside to find the living room packed with waiting guests.

“Excuse me!”

Ignoring the voice trailing behind her, Tae-eun flung open the sliding door to the shaman’s room. The shaman, who had been whispering to a sniffling client, widened his eyes in surprise at the sight of Tae-eun.

She waved the book she borrowed from the library at the shaman. The man’s face grew increasingly pale as he glanced back and forth between the book and her.

“You can’t do this!”

The young man approached and pulled her away. Tae-eun, not wanting to waste her energy, obediently retreated to the guest room where she had stayed ten days before.

The floor was so cold that her feet felt chilly even with thick socks on. As she quietly wiggled her toes, she heard the shaman excusing himself to his clients and following her.

Tae-eun, who had been waiting, firmly closed the door as soon as the shaman entered.

“Your father’s name is Nam Dae-hyung, but what is your name, shaman?”

“What do you think you’re doing here in my place of business?”

“Your name.”

She hid her pounding heart and stared resolutely at the man. The shaman, nervously glancing outside, quickly responded.

“Nam Jeong-tak. What on earth is this about? Are you perhaps…”

“Perhaps what?”

“No, no, did you come here alone?”

Tae-eun scrutinized him suspiciously before nodding. Nam Jeong-tak let out a sigh of relief, his face visibly relaxing.

“You know Hyun-ho, don’t you?”

“What? What are you talking about? I don’t even know that person’s name.”

Nam Jeong-tak immediately realized his mistake, closing his eyes tightly before opening them again. As a brief silence filled the room, Tae-eun regained her composure, while the shaman’s eyes flickered with agitation.

“How do you know Hyun-ho, Mr. Nam Jeong-tak?”

Determined not to repeat his earlier mistake, he clamped his mouth shut. Knowing that dragging out the time would only be to his disadvantage, Tae-eun waited patiently.

She was so engrossed in her hypothesis that she was acting out of character. The shaman might be the only person who could confirm whether her suspicions were true or not.

“You have clients to attend to.”

“That’s why you can’t just barge in here like this!”

Nam Jeong-tak’s angry breath reached her face.

“Our families have known each other since my great-grandfather’s time. We’ve helped each other out, so don’t get any strange ideas.”

“Is your father deceased?”

“Yes, it’s been about twenty years.”

If what he said was true, Nam Dae-hyung had died just a few years after publishing his autobiographical novel. The thought of the book’s ending sent chills down her spine.

“May I ask how he passed away?”

“Good grief… He died of complications from pneumonia.”

Tae-eun took a short breath. She was relieved that her worst fears were unfounded.

“Someone I knew committed suicide.”

Nam Jeong-tak’s hand, who was about to touch the doorknob, froze. He looked as if he already knew more, perhaps due to his spiritual abilities.

“Just as you suggested, I visited my friend. There, I met my friend’s mother… and she told me that the person who tormented us had committed suicide the day before.”

Nam Jeong-tak avoided her gaze.

“In the same manner that my friend had died.”

But she could see the shaman’s skin twitching beneath his eyes.

“Is it a coincidence?”

“Yes, it’s a coincidence. There’s no need to worry about any deep-seated revenge or anything like that.”

The shaman’s voice had grown faint, almost a whisper. Tae-eun moved on to her next question.

“Tell me everything you know about Hyun-ho.”

“His girlfriend would know better than I do. Please stop disrupting my business and leave.”

“Then tell me about the god you serve.”

“What are you talking about─”

“You said your grandfather and father both served the same god.”

Tae-eun held out the book she was carrying. Nam Jeong-tak glanced at the book and then looked back towards the door.

“Is it related to Hyun-ho?”

The shaman’s lips moved soundlessly. Without touching him, she could tell his back had stiffened. She stepped closer, lowering her voice.

“Is Hyun-ho… special?”

His lips moved several times, but no sound came out. She held her breath, waiting for his voice to emerge.

But his long hesitation already served as an affirmative answer.

Just then, there was a commotion outside the door. The doorknob to the room, which Tae-eun had closed, began to turn.

Through the slowly widening gap, she saw familiar blonde hair. The light brown eyes beneath sharp brows sparkled with recognition.

Ji Hyun-ho spotted her and smiled gently.

“There you are.”

 

 

🍉🍉🍉

T/N: Bruh, Hyun-ho be creepy af! lol