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Chapter 21
The sun that had been high in the sky was now dipping toward the west, and evening shadows stretched across the ground.
The three prisoner brothers were still being left out in the yard of the straw hut.
They couldn’t even bring themselves to ask why they had to be treated like this, surrounded by prisoners from Jeojado Island who looked far more vicious than they did. They could only fidget nervously, afraid to speak.
Then, it happened.
A sack of unknown contents was suddenly dropped in front of the three brothers, who were sitting blankly from hunger and exhaustion.
The eldest blinked, dazed, wondering what it was.
As the mouth of the sack opened slightly, its contents came into view.
“U–Uwaaaah!”
The prisoner’s eyes bulged wide, and he screamed, scrambling backward on his hands and feet.
“B–Brother, what— Aaaaah! What is that?!”
“Aaaahhhh!”
Their screams echoed through the yard.
Inside the sack was a human body.
A corpse.
The neck and shoulder were split open as if struck by a sickle, exposing the raw red flesh beneath. On top of it sat a head with hair tangled and wild, and between the strands stared wide, unblinking eyes filled with a deep, lingering grudge.
“Wh–What the hell…!”
Enraged, the biggest of the three brothers stood up and shouted.
“We might not be to your liking, but what is the meaning of this?! Trying to scare us away, are you?!”
“Oh? Don’t you recognize it?”
A low, cold voice—tinged with faint amusement—sounded from behind the group of hulking island prisoners surrounding them.
The prisoners parted like the sea, opening a path.
Through it walked a young man in indigo robes, calm and unhurried.
It was Lee Shin.
After leaving the Sunwon Hall, Lee Shin had gone straight into the forest on the outskirts of Jeojado.
He returned to the hut as if he had never heard talk of curses or death, his expression composed.
He chose a sturdy tree, climbed up, and lay half-reclined among its branches, closing his eyes.
He was waiting for Seok Jangdu, whom he had sent to trace the movements of the three prisoner brothers who had dared to come to Jeojado.
He must have dozed off for a bit.
Sensing approaching footsteps beyond the forest, he opened his eyes. Soon, Seok Jangdu and three others returned, carrying a heavy sack, their expressions grim and dark.
As always, Lee Shin’s bad premonitions proved true.
Inside the sack lay a horribly mutilated corpse.
“What shall we do, Master?”
Seok Jangdu’s piercing eyes turned toward the straw hut visible beyond the brush.
Lee Shin glanced at the setting sun and then back at the sack.
Twilight had fallen, and beside the sack, a faint white shape began to appear—slowly taking form.
Lee Shin saw both the corpse inside the sack and the ghost rising beside it like smoke.
They were the same person.
As Lee Shin remained silent, Seok Jangdu continued his report.
“There were five bodies in total. One boy around his early teens, one woman in her thirties, and two old men in their fifties.”
“All seemed to have been killed with farming tools—sickles or hoes. We couldn’t be sure, but they wore the same kind of shackles on their ankles as those prisoners who came to the hut today.”
“They must’ve escaped from the same prison.”
After hearing the report, Lee Shin looked again at the ghost standing beside the sack and rose to his feet.
He ordered Seok Jangdu to take the sack and place it before the three prisoner brothers.
Then the ghost’s eyes began to bleed tears as it lunged for the throat of the eldest brother.
Lee Shin watched the scene with a cold, detached gaze and slowly stepped forward.
He didn’t need to summon spirits to read their sins.
These three, shouting of their innocence and injustice, had no place on Jeojado.
“You don’t even recognize the man you killed, do you? After hacking him apart so gleefully with your sickles.”
Lee Shin’s eyes flicked between the brothers and the ghost.
“Kill? What are you talking abou—!”
The eldest, panicking at the accusation, suddenly grabbed his throat, gasping.
Even the island prisoners who had been watching them all day flinched at the sudden sight, then quickly exchanged looks and pinned the other two brothers to the ground.
Lee Shin’s gaze remained fixed on the ghost throttling the eldest.
“You ungrateful bastard! You beast in human form…! I fed you, clothed you, sheltered you—and you dared to sell my wife?! If not for you, my family wouldn’t have been destroyed like this!”
Only Lee Shin could see and hear the ghost’s desperate fury.
The more the ghost’s vengeful hands tightened, the darker the brother’s face became—red to purple to black.
“Brother! What’s wrong?! You’re choking—breathe! Breathe!”
One of the younger brothers broke free and ran to him, but the island prisoners stood like immovable mountains, making no move to help.
Lee Shin had given no such order.
“You bastards! You’ve no shame! My brother’s dying—do something!” the younger one shouted desperately.
Lee Shin looked at them with an icy gaze, cold enough that not even a drop of blood seemed to flow in his veins.
He was the head of the House of Geom (黔)—their duty was to control and pacify the dead so that vengeful spirits could not harm the living.
They had done so for a thousand years.
“Brother! Breathe! What’s happening! You’re dying!”
“Guhhhhk!”
The eldest thrashed, terrified by the inexplicable force choking him, reaching out for help.
“Are you going to leave him like that?”
The voice came from beside him. When Lee Shin turned, Unjeong, wearing white robes, stood next to him.
“I’d like to,” Lee Shin replied dryly.
“Ha!”
Unjeong sighed in exasperation and stepped forward.
He flicked his fan lightly against the ghost’s shoulder.
Tap. Tap.
“Cough! Cough!”
Air rushed back into the eldest’s lungs as he collapsed to the dirt, coughing violently.
“Take them away. We have no need for these men on Jeojado.”
Lee Shin gestured to Do-young, who was standing behind him awaiting orders.
Without a word, Do-young nodded and led his men away from the hut.
Now, only Lee Shin, the ghost Unjeong, and the three beasts wearing human faces remained.
“Why… why?! My wife, my son! Why?! How can I live while they walk free?! I’ll kill them! I’ll kill them all! Aaaahhh!”
The ghost’s skin turned black, and his eyes glowed blood-red as he charged forward in a frenzy.
Jingle—!
A clear bell sound rang out across the yard.
The ghost froze mid-motion.
Lee Shin held a sword in his hand—a hwandao with a small bell tied to the hilt.
When he flicked it gently, the bell rang again.
“You should live,” Lee Shin said softly. “Live a life worse than death. Isn’t that far more satisfying?”
His gaze met the ghost’s hate-filled eyes.
The ghost’s twisted face slowly crumbled in despair.
“Death is too easy.”
“I have to kill them! Just like they killed my family—I have to kill them!” the ghost screamed, lunging again.
Jingle!
The bell rang once more, clear and sharp. The ghost faltered, its mind clouded and movements halting.
And when it tried to move again, a cold, weary voice cut through the air—
“Trust me. Dying’s far too simple.”
