Honbul: Flame of the Soul

At the same time, another pair was climbing the opposite side of the nameless mountain.

Chairman Jang of Sekang Corporation and his secretary, Chief Kim, were steadily making their way uphill in hiking clothes and bucket hats.

“Chairman, are you alright?”

Walking ahead, Chief Kim wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked back.

The mountain, untouched by people and lacking even a proper trail, was difficult terrain. There had been something resembling a path near the entrance, but it had disappeared almost immediately.

“I’m fine.”

Still, it was hard going for Chairman Jang, who wasn’t accustomed to rough mountain roads. Chief Kim moved several steps ahead, pushing aside overgrown grass and branches to clear the way for him.

“...We’re not lost, are we?”

Truthfully, Chief Kim had been wondering the same thing.

He unfolded the note where he had carefully copied down Master Yeohye’s directions word for word.

“This isn’t a place ordinary people can easily reach, so listen carefully. The mountain is deserted and there’s barely any trail, so [N O V E L I G H T] watch your footing. First, find the spring. If you keep climbing from the entrance, eventually the path will disappear. From there, head toward three o’clock. About ten minutes later, you’ll find an abandoned spring.”

They had followed the instructions exactly.

Chief Kim checked his watch after wiping away another layer of sweat.

It had already been well over ten minutes since the trail vanished, yet there was still no sign of any spring. The forest only grew denser and the slope steeper.

At this point, they seemed genuinely lost.

Ordinarily, he would have called to confirm the directions. Unfortunately, both of their phones had lost signal the moment they entered the mountain.

That alone felt unsettling.

There had been a wooden village guardian pole standing near the entrance, and beyond that point, every trace of reception vanished completely.

Chief Kim’s unease deepened.

“Chairman... are you sure Master Yeohye didn’t give us the wrong directions?”

As someone who placed little faith in superstition, Chief Kim found the entire situation uncomfortable.

Still, wealthy and powerful people often became obsessed with fortune-telling and spiritual matters. The more a person possessed, the more terrified they became of losing it all. Fear of an uncertain future naturally drove people toward things they couldn’t fully understand.

Chairman Jang was no exception.

Sekang Corporation was a massive conglomerate with stable holdings across multiple industries and a steadily rising market position. Jang Pilyoung, second son of founder Jang Jiyong, had seized control of the company after a brutal succession battle over management rights.

Though he’d never known Master Yeohye personally, he had eventually asked Minister Heo—someone with whom he maintained close ties—for an introduction.

The reason was his son.

About a year earlier, Chairman Jang’s son had suddenly begun suffering from inexplicable chills.

He had once been perfectly healthy, but one day he started feeling constantly cold. At first everyone assumed it was a lingering cold or fatigue.

Then one morning, he woke up coughing blood.

After collapsing from severe chest pain, he became bedridden almost overnight.

His condition deteriorated rapidly. His body weakened day by day, as though he were slowly dying.

Yet every hospital examination came back perfectly normal.

Nothing was wrong.

No matter how many tests they ran, the results remained the same.

Chairman Jang couldn’t accept it.

His son was visibly wasting away before his eyes, yet modern medicine insisted there was nothing wrong with him.

That was when another possibility entered his mind.

What if this wasn’t an illness at all?

What if something supernatural was killing his son?

The thought led him toward exorcisms and spiritual rituals. But Chairman Jang absolutely did not want to involve the Office of Narye.

Even if it operated in secret, it was still a government institution.

Records would remain.

And entrusting something so personal to a government agency felt dangerous. Reckless, even. If the information were ever used against him politically, it could become a weakness.

Chairman Jang had climbed to his current position by trampling countless others beneath him. Naturally, there were many things in his past he desperately wanted buried forever.

That was why he chose a private shaman instead.

Much like wealthy people hired private investigators rather than going to the police, he preferred to handle matters outside official channels.

Through Minister Heo’s mediation, he eventually sought out Master Yeohye, a famous elderly shaman trusted by numerous influential figures.

After waiting several months for an audience, Chairman Jang finally met him and poured out his entire story, begging for help.

A ritual.

A talisman.

Anything at all.

Master Yeohye listened quietly for a long time before finally lighting a cigarette.

“It would actually be easier if this were a ghost.”

After examining Chairman Jang’s son personally, the old shaman made that strange remark.

“...What do you mean?”

“This was done by a living person.”

Master Yeohye exhaled cigarette smoke slowly.

“Someone sent a curse.”

In Korean shamanism, a curse referred to a malicious invisible force capable of bringing injury, misfortune, illness, or destruction upon another person.

“If it were a ghost, we could appease it or drive it off. But this is different.”

The old shaman narrowed his eyes.

“Someone holding deep resentment against you hired another shaman to curse your son.”

In other words, Chairman Jang’s son was not being tormented by a ghost.

He was dying because another living person wanted him dead.

Chairman Jang’s face turned pale.

“...Then what should I do?”

Master Yeohye took another drag from his cigarette before answering.

“It’s difficult, but not impossible. To counter a curse sent by the living, you need another force strong enough to neutralize it.”

His gaze darkened slightly.

“You fight poison with poison.”

For a moment, Chairman Jang felt relieved.

Maybe the months-long wait had been worth it after all.

Then the old shaman abruptly shook his head.

“But it’s not something I can do.”

Chairman Jang stared at him in disbelief.

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“Sending curses against the living is fundamentally wrong.”

Master Yeohye spoke firmly.

“No shaman who serves divine spirits should involve himself in such things.”

That kind of practice belonged to sorcery.

Black magic.

Something that invited spiritual contamination.

“If I used those methods, the spirits would turn their backs on me. I won’t do anything shameful before the divine.”

The old man tapped ash from his cigarette.

“And more importantly, this is beyond my ability. Do you think an old man like me could overcome such a vicious curse?”

His eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry, Chairman Jang. You came to the wrong person.”

Faced with the shaman’s refusal, Chairman Jang sat there in silence for a long while before eventually rising to leave.

“Wait.”

Master Yeohye suddenly called out behind him.

Chairman Jang paused and turned back.

“Now that I think about it...”

The old shaman slowly exhaled smoke.

“It would be rude to send you away empty-handed after you came all this way.”

A strange smile crossed his face.

“How about I introduce you to someone better suited for this kind of work?”