Chapter 25: Japan-bound (3)
by Polar Bear
Jewung referred to a doll made of straw. Its origin was said to come from Cheoyong, the protagonist of the Cheoyong legend from Silla, and due to the nature of the legend, the straw doll used in Korea had the power to ward off evil spirits, exorcise misfortune, and repel evil gods.
It’s truly good that the effect is doubled when combined with the Cheoyong dance. Even if the place is narrow, how could there not be a secret plan if one wishes with all their heart?
Inside the dark vertical cave, the torch and the Jewung continuously changed their shadows, appearing bizarre. Although the wind wasn’t blowing properly, the torch danced as if it had met a typhoon, and while the Jewung remained still in its place, its form seemed to be constantly moving, darting around the cave.
Its appearance was truly like that of dancing.
As if the immobile Jewung sent its soul to dance as a shadow, it spread its arms here and there moving like a madman in all directions, and moving and twisting its legs stiffly, it roamed here and there, its appearance truly like that of a shaman in contact with the gods.
“아ᅀᅡᄂᆞᆯ 엇디 ᄒᆞ릿고. 아ᅀᅡᄂᆞᆯ 엇디 ᄒᆞ릿고. 아ᅀᅡᄂᆞᆯ 엇디 ᄒᆞ릿고.” (“What can be done with what has been taken”, roughly)
“Father Cheoyong, as people say nothing from this point. As people say nothing from this point. As people say nothing from this point.”
And along with this, Jinseong’s Song of Cheoyong echoed, and simultaneously, the tape recorder embedded in the center of the straw doll sounded another Cheoyong song along with instrumental sounds.
The inside of the cave truly became a small stage, and the Jewung became a troupe of performers dancing to the music, holding life.
“Who made you, who made you. Without needle or thread, without needle or thread. Who made you, Father Cheoyong. The god of fevers, the god of fevers, who made you, Father Cheoyong.”
And on the other side of the shadow dancing madly like this, something that would become Cheoyong’s enemy and his antipode was bound.
It was the human hanging above the unrecovered bone fragments.
What was once a trained martial artist was now nothing but flab as if they had their muscles sucked out of them, and they were nailed to the damp, fishy-smelling cave wall in the shape of a cross like a crucified saint of old, bleeding profusely.
The only peculiar thing was that the upper body was covered with a sack, with only the lower body exposed. The lower body which was stripped completely naked down to the underwear was trembling as if convulsing, perhaps due to pain.
And from the human’s mouth, a very small sound was flowing out.
“You demon monk… I’ve told everything… Let me go…”
It was unknown whether they were having trouble even moving the tongue, or whether the mind was confused due to not being able to breathe properly in the sack wrapped tight over the upper body. However, the sound was smaller than an ant’s cry and weaker than the sound of water droplets falling from the cave’s stalactites, so it was only a plea and echo that could only be heard nearby.
But had that desperate heart reached somehow?
The tape recorder stuck in the Jewung’s chest stopped working, and at the same time, Jinseong’s mouth, which had been continuously reciting the Song of Cheoyong, also closed tightly. And the madly dancing torch also became gentle as if trying to find its proper role, burning while everything returned to its place.
“Sśrī śrī mahā śrī su śrī svāhā.”
Jinseong quietly chanted the mantra towards the Jewung, then grabbed its head and walked towards the martial artist hanging on the wall.
Thud.
Thud.
As Jinseong moved, the bone fragments on the floor were crushed under his feet but he paid no heed. For ordinary people, this could have caused great suffering from the curses and resentful thoughts sent by angry ghosts and evil spirits angered by the destruction of remains, but for Jinseong, such things were no more impactful than a mosquito bite.
Rather, the resentful thoughts and curses that failed to fulfill their role only returned to their senders, causing double the impact.
Keeee-aaaaak!
Jinseong’s power, the Jewung’s power to ward off evil, the amplified curses as they returned.
All of these kept Jinseong safe from evil spirits and ghosts. But even though retreating would’ve been the normal thing to do if one saw that it didn’t work, those who had long lost their reason while dwelling on grudges at the bottom of the vertical cave burned up like moths flying into fire, not even capable of minimal thinking.
Keeak!
As souls burst out, sorcerous power was imbued into the silver coin embedded in the Jewung’s head part. The tarnish that the silver coin had accumulated over time gradually peeled off, and despite the cave having no light source other than the torch, it gradually increased its sparkle as if trying to emit light on its own.
When Jinseong eventually reached the martial artist hanging on the wall after stepping on most of the bone fragments on the floor, the coin was emitting light as if it were a small moon itself, enough to dimly illuminate the cave.
“Ghost of plague, god of fevers. Impurity that spreads disease. Here comes Cheoyong. Not a thousand gold or seven treasures, but Cheoyong who will catch and drive you out, the spirit of disease, has come here.”
It was said that straw means ‘multiformity of forms beneficial to people’.
Then what was beneficial to people and what was harmful?
What was beneficial and harmful was decided only by subjective judgment. It was truly difficult to set that standard.
If it was used instead of firewood and that fire arose as if to pierce the sky, was that truly beneficial? If it changed to be tough and loose and made ropes strong, was that beneficial? If it rotted quicker and made soybean ferment faster, was that beneficial?
This ‘beneficial form’ was truly ambiguous, a sufficient symbol that if handled well, could be handled infinitely well, but if not handled properly, it could be worth nothing more than a stone rolling on the ground.
Jinseong was confident he could handle this well, but this ‘beneficial form’ was both an excellent power and a shackle. To utilize it in the form he wanted, processing was necessary.
Therefore, Jinseong achieved what he wanted by kneading this ‘form beneficial to people’ through this Cheoyong dance.
Straw becomes a person, and by being with people, it adds weight to its presence.
And on the opposite side, it places the enemy of people.
Cheoyong, the original form of Jewung, became a symbol of expelling evil and bringing good fortune by moving and driving out the god of disease who coveted his wife. Meaning it had a power to drive away evil things and bring about auspicious events, one of the most powerful forms that could be made with straw.
Moreover, the power of sorcery became stronger as the straw took human form and grew closer to people, and by hanging the martial artist on the wall and covering the upper body to make it look exactly like the god of disease, it bestowed the symbolism of that god.
And the god of disease had to make a wish to Cheoyong.
It had to express a thought of desire and wish.
In front of the overwhelmingly superior symbol that is Cheoyong!
“Let me go…”
“Yes, you god of disease. Do you wish to have the stake in your body removed, be given breath, and be driven a thousand li (approx. 392 km) away?”
“Let me go…”
If one wished for a wish, there must also be a price for it. There might not have been a price at least in the original Cheoyong sorcery, but the martial artist hanging in front of him now had to pay a price without fail.
There was a picture drawn on the sack covering his body.
A ‘Y’ shaped picture meaning a three-way intersection that would scatter the misfortune gathered in the Jewung was trapped inside a circle meaning an inescapable wall, making the misfortune circulate only inside until the circle was erased, and the person inside the sack was unable to remove the misfortune by himself as he had taken on the role of the god of misfortune.
The result was a sack that could never be taken off by oneself.
If he couldn’t remove the misfortune, he couldn’t take off the sack covering his body, so he had to pay the price Jinseong wanted without fail.
And the wish the martial artist wanted was ‘Let me go.’
Not to be saved, but to be let go.
What this meant was…
“If you do not pay the price for the wish, even if eons pass and the end comes, not even your soul will be able to escape from that sack.”
Jinseong said this while making an eye hole in the sack.
* * *
A person’s words change their form depending on the occasion.
Speak your true heart through the state reflected in the window.
Only by putting your whole heart into drawing and pulling out the form.
Show everything residing in the deepest part of the hippocampus.
* * *
“You have paid the price very well. You have now served your long usefulness and can return to your hometown.”
Jinseong said this while looking at the martial artist who, despite the sack being removed, couldn’t come to his senses and was drooling with unfocused eyes.
The bluish mana gathered in the martial artist’s eyes kept moving as if creating a hologram, and above his completely loosened mouth, thick nosebleed kept flowing to the point of soaking his entire clothes.
“Are you not able to answer?”
The martial artist continued to roll on the floor without being able to react to Jinseong’s words.
“It’s been a long time since I interrogated with sorcery other than parasitic sorcery. I hope you’ll understand some mistakes.”
Jinseong said this while turning his back on the man.
“Interrogation is truly a difficult task. However, I can at least pray for your soul. Om mani padme hum. Om mani padme hum. Om mani padme hum (ॐ मणि पद्मे हूँ).”
Creak.
With that, Jinseong used space contraction to disappear.
What remained in the cave after he disappeared was a torch with little wick left.
Bone fragments that had become almost powder.
And.
And…
“Urgh…”
One happy martial artist who had his wish granted.
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