Chapter 05
Even at this moment, Hae-an’s cold gaze made a chill run down Kang-ho’s spine again and again.
“You see? Even I, as your partner, get startled every time I see the team leader. Imagine how the juniors feel.”
“That’s not entirely my problem. They should blame their own lack of sense.”
“I know that, but discipline should have limits too, right?”
It finally made sense why people said you could stab Gang Hae-an and he still wouldn’t bleed. Kang-ho sighed in frustration, knowing that trying to reason emotionally with a cold-blooded man was pointless.
“Anyway. Did you question the sudden reassignment from the Metropolitan Investigation Unit to Okyeong Station during the personnel transfer?”
“No.”
“Wait, so you’re just going to accept this ridiculous transfer order?”
“Yes.”
Hae-an answered in a businesslike tone and looked out the window. It was a full glass wall, showing the outside clearly.
“The labor union or ethics committee wouldn’t have done anything. Refusing an order directly given by a superintendent is basically rebelling against the entire police organization.”
So he didn’t accept it—he gave up. Kang-ho looked at Hae-an’s back with complicated eyes.
“Besides, that superintendent, Woo Gwan-su, is my adoptive father.”
Hae-an tapped the glass with his fingers, like someone facing an unbreakable wall.
“As his son—and as a junior officer—how could I possibly go against his will?”
His expression darkened.
Gang Hae-an was once the ace detective of Okyeong Police Station, ranked number one in arrests nationwide. Recognized for his achievements, he was transferred to the Seoul Metropolitan Investigation Unit with his partner Kang-ho, and led the high-profile “Chilseongpa Grand Theft Case.”
But three months ago, Hae-an received shocking news from his adoptive father, Superintendent Woo Gwan-su.
“Those Chilseongpa guys aren’t ordinary. This is just theft now, but do you know how often robbery cases turn into murder? So step back from the case.”
“No parent would ever willingly send their child into danger. Arms always bend inward.”
Hae-an couldn’t understand his adoptive father’s excessive concern. But he couldn’t disobey him either—because Woo Gwan-su had raised him after his biological father died.
After a long sigh, Hae-an turned around, and Kang-ho quickly stood up and approached him.
“I still don’t understand this, Team Leader. Are you cursed this year or something?”
“Not this again.”
“Think about it! The ace team leader of the Metropolitan Unit gets suddenly demoted to a local station for no reason. It’s not performance-related, not evaluation-related—this makes no sense.”
Annoyed, Hae-an grabbed Kang-ho’s wrist before he got more heated.
“Officer Choi. Don’t get worked up over useless things. Go have lunch with the team—”
He suddenly stopped.
From his jacket pocket, instead of a credit card, a business card slipped out.
‘Just a Fortune House’ and beneath it, an unfamiliar address and the name “Head Shaman Kim Bari” pulled Hae-an’s attention in like a whirlpool.
A few days earlier, Kim Bari had forcibly shoved that card into his pocket during their confrontation.
“You need this to reach me. So come quickly.”
“We don’t have much time left, you and I.”
The red card, gold lettering—everything about it felt unnatural. Hae-an stared at it with a tired expression.
“Hey, isn’t that her card? That pretty woman who’s been following you for three months, right?”
Kang-ho grabbed Hae-an’s hand as he reached toward the trash bin.
“Wait. Isn’t she a shaman?”
“Yeah. Not my problem.”
“Then why throw it away? You should at least visit her once. Your luck’s been terrible lately—maybe this is fate…”
“Fate?”
Hae-an scoffed and pressed Kang-ho’s shoulder down.
“Do you really believe in that nonsense?”
If gods existed, then his life wouldn’t be such a cruel chain of suffering.
A mother dying because of her own child. A father who raised that child with unconditional love, only to die unjustly. Hae-an didn’t believe in anything.
Especially not himself.
“I’m not falling for illusions made by fraud shamans like Kim Bari.”
He threw the card into the trash and walked out.
Kang-ho hesitated, then quietly muttered after picking it up again.
“…Still. Just in case.”
He slipped the card into his pocket.
A thick fog covered the early dawn.
A car stopped in front of a large mansion. Bari looked at Deok-jae’s tired face and picked up her clutch bag.
“This is my house, but why does it feel unfamiliar?”
“You spend more time at the shrine. Tomorrow’s schedule is full again too.”
Deok-jae spoke calmly while unfastening his seatbelt.
“You’ll be busy early morning. I’ll come pick you up, so don’t think too much and rest.”
Bari understood the real meaning behind his words.
Don’t disobey heaven’s orders. Don’t try to run away like before.
His concern, mixed with warning, irritated her. Without answering, she got out of the car. Deok-jae also got out from the driver’s seat.
In the foggy night air, he lit a cigarette and spoke.
“Good work. Rest.”
Bari stood still, watching him. After a long silence, she finally asked.
“Haetae. What exactly are you?”
She had always wondered. This unwanted presence who suddenly entered her eternal, lonely existence.
Before she even gave him the name “Lee Deok-jae,” he had been only the goblin Haetae.
“Why are you so good to me?”
Deok-jae had always been too kind. Too gentle. Too human. She had never seen the coldness or cruelty a divine judge should have.
“Do you want something from me?”
For once, Deok-jae shook his head firmly.
“Stop overthinking.”
Smoke mixed with fog.
“I don’t expect anything in return from you.”
If there was no hidden intention, how could she explain his constant kindness?
As always, his answer remained unclear.
“It’s cold. Go inside.”
He stomped out his cigarette and got into the car, disappearing into the distance.
Bari checked the time.
3 a.m. A very late return.
The mansion was empty and cold.
Bari, exhausted from constant divine work, blinked her tired eyes and slowly climbed the stairs.
When she reached the second floor, she felt a breeze. A window was open.
Strange. No one should be here except her.
She walked toward it, assuming she forgot to close it.
Then—
“Don’t close it.”
A voice.
Bari flinched violently.
A strong sense of familiarity struck her immediately.
She knew this voice.
“I left it open to get some air.”
She slowly turned around.
Click.
The lights turned on.
And there, in the sudden brightness, stood a man.
“…What.”
Bari stumbled backward.
“How are you here—!”
Gang Hae-an.
Without a doubt, it was him.
