Chương 64: S.04 Memory of the Clock 11(05)

Scene 15_02. Ji-young's party headed for the great south gate, the largest of them all. Chae-rim, in her ceremonial uniform, had — without fail — vanished from sight. A portion of the Guard Corps officers walked alongside the party, taking up positions as if escorting each Director of the offices. A fairly large number came to a halt at the south gate. As the closed south gate opened, the gathering received the Masters of the Province, who had stepped out from their cars and begun to walk in.

Ji-young bowed deeply at the waist first, conveying her greeting to those who were entering, and every official lined up behind her bowed their waists in turn, conveying their greetings to the entering Masters of the Province. The Masters of the Province crossing the gateway came to a halt and returned the greetings of Ji-young's party. Ji-young straightened first and approached the Masters of the Province who had stepped through. Ji-young: Welcome. Masters of the Province of all eight regions.

I am the 56th The Oldest. Kang Ji-young. Im Seon-ja — Master of the Southeast Province — who appeared the eldest, took one step forward and bowed her ceremonial-uniformed waist to Ji-young, returning the greeting once more. Seon-ja: I had not expected you to come out and receive us in person. Ji-young: Please, do come in. We have prepared light refreshments inside. Ji-young opened one hand and offered a courteous smile to the Masters of the Province before her.

At Ji-young's gesture — a hand spread to invite them along the path — every Master of the Province present began to move. Ji-young's party, too, holding their honed chill at the side of the Masters of the Province, started to walk. The number of provincial native-soil forces appeared slightly greater. And at the end of that procession was Yu-seok as well. There was no cause to bar him, so no one stood in the way of Yu-seok's entering steps.

Everyone who had stepped inside the Grand Hall took their places behind the name plates marking each of their seats. In the wide Grand Hall, warm braziers had been stoked, and the interior had already been brought to a comfortable warmth. It was a wooden building broad enough to accommodate far more people. The wooden building was not of great height, and the interior was floored in wood. The crackling of the braziers came through.

The heat radiating from the braziers tucked into the corners of the building was warm enough that Ji-young could feel a thread of sweat down her spine. Without letting it show, Ji-young took her seat at the head of the long table. With Hee-jin's help, she fastened her rather heavy garments and seated herself in a plain wooden chair. The instant Ji-young sat, every official on Ji-young's side and every native-soil figure took their own seats. The number plainly exceeded fifty.

The gazes that watched Ji-young in silence each carried its own buried intent. Some were taken aback by the change in Ji-young's air, some were taken aback by Ji-young's stately bearing, and some were watching as if guarding against an uneasy situation. Ji-young softly smoothed her silk cord into place and rested both arms upon the table.

Ji-young: Having only just taken office, I should have come to call upon each Master of the Province in turn first — but owing to the chain of events that has unfolded, I have had no choice but to receive you in this manner. I offer my apology. Ji-young, smoothing the front of her robe with her hand, bowed her waist lightly from her seat. Within the heavy silence flowing through the hall, the Masters of the Province bowed their waists lightly, returning the greeting to Ji-young's apology.

Ji-young: Thank you for the long road traveled. Thanks to the labors of every Master of the Province — overseeing and ordering the shamanic affairs of your native soil — Headquarters has been able to handle its work with ease. I have called this gathering both to express the gratitude owing to that, and to inform you of certain matters we have come to know. Please, do not regard it as anything weighty, and stay your time here in calm.

The moment Ji-young's words ended, a small side door at the back of the hall — set behind Ji-young — opened, and two officers came through, wheeling in a cart heaped with documents. Ji-young: Since the days of old, our 단 (Dan_The Covenant) — which has not even been granted a name — has kept its distance from the secular world, turning its back on both authority and power alike.

Wordlessly distorting time, and on account of that distortion, even unable to live out the years rightly given — how long that span has stretched on, no one can know any longer. Even the count of my own term as the 56th — that is only a number that began to be tallied long after the oracle bone script took its pictographic form. That this lineage has run from far before that, every soul gathered here knows.

The arriving documents came to a halt between Hee-jin — seated immediately beside Ji-young — and Ji-young herself. Setting down the documents, the two officers bowed their waists and withdrew. Ji-young's voice rang clear through the wide reception chamber of the Grand Hall. Ji-young: There were times when imposters chasing secular power ran rampant. There were times when the lineage was surrendered to the pressure of foreign forces.

And there were countless lives that flickered out in vanity, without even time enough to face death. Across that long stretch, every Master of the Province who has carried on the will of those before — turning back unjust death together, and quietly toiling so that an ordinary life could continue, beyond what anyone could perceive — to all of you, I offer my thanks. May you, just as you have striven thus far, lend your aid to me as well — even one as wanting as I. I ask this of you.

Ji-young once again carefully bowed her waist toward the gathering. The ornament hanging from one ear gave a faint metallic tremor as it swayed. The gathering, unable to merely receive the greeting like wooden carvings, bowed their own waists in time with Ji-young's gesture. Ji-young: Following on these brief words of address, I would like to ask after a few small matters that have come to our knowledge. Please, take it in stride.

At Ji-young's words, Hee-jin — seated beside her — drew out a scroll and laid it before Ji-young. Ji-young briefly met the gaze of Yeon-jin, who had been staring straight at her, but with no particular meaning attached, she courteously unrolled the scroll laid before her. Going over the scroll she had unfurled, Ji-young, wearing a bright smile, looked up again. While quietly reviewing the contents, Ji-young's gaze came to rest on the Master of the North Province, Kim Ju-seop.

Ji-young: The road on which the most deaths come and go. How great the labor must be. Ju-seop, at Ji-young's marvel and praise, glanced at the surroundings for a moment and then, with effort, lowered his head to convey his gratitude. Ji-young: Properly, life begins in the East and South, ends in the West, and passes through the North. Being the seat that delivers the closing of every life, surely there have been many trying times. Have there not. Ju-seop: No.

It is not work so difficult as — Ji-young's smile-laden voice cut through Ju-seop's words. Ji-young: If you say "no," that puts me in a bind. Ju-seop, staring at Ji-young — who was holding her smile — began to listen to the words she went on with. Ji-young: Colluding with provincial cult founders to seize the rights to a nearby private toll road.

Slashing apart the secular journalist who tried to bring the matter to light, disguising it as a robbery-killing, then erasing the trace with 인불 (In-bul_Ghost Light), and not stopping there — setting fire to the news outlet itself, leaving it as a cold case without even rewinding time.

Pressuring the local council to bypass proper procedure, splitting the profits with the cult organization, and using money funneled from there into Headquarters to even assassinate a North Province shaman who tried to bring the truth out. For someone who has been keeping themselves so very busy — Ji-young was still smiling. There was not a trace of anger in her voice. But Ju-seop, more than anyone, sat with a face turned ghastly, unable to carry on with even a single word.

Ji-young: "There has been nothing trying" — surely that is more terrifying still, is it not. What in the world it would take for a Master of the Province to call something trying, I cannot even begin to imagine. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. The intent for which they had been gathered came clear at once. A heavy silence flowed through the hall. Ji-young calmly rolled up the scroll laid before her, set it aside, and was handed another.

With her smile still set lightly in place, she looked toward Bo-ram, indicated by the unrolled scroll. Bo-ram, meeting Ji-young's eyes, wore the face of someone struck with an "oh hell" — and her expression locked oddly tight as if barely holding back the rising fury. Ji-young: Master of the West Province. At Ji-young's calm call, Bo-ram did not answer. She was glaring at Ji-young in silence. Ji-young, smiling a little more brightly, called Bo-ram again. Ji-young: Master of the West Province. Bo-ram: Speak.

Ji-young: Why you should be wearing such a face — I cannot quite tell. Take it in stride. Provincial native-soil forces, outside an inspection season from Headquarters, are not something I can easily move against, anyway. Even that, you seem to have smoothed over with money — ah, and the Inspectorate officer who colluded with you was executed during the previous crisis. Of course, it was not for this matter that he was executed. It was, more than anything, because he tried to take my life.

It was simply that, in the course of bringing things to light, the entanglement was discovered. There is no need to carry such a face. Ji-young, going over the long-laid scroll's contents, let a flummoxed laugh escape. Ji-young: Goodness — how do I put it …. To bring all of this up would take an eternity. If I am to point to just one — over here as well, sweeping the local council, handing out nominations, reading divinations, and needlessly setting people against one another — Bo-ram: So what then!!

Bo-ram kicked back from her seated place and rose to her feet. The instant she stood, she gripped the hilt of the blade tucked at her waist — taking it firmly in hand to draw it. Bo-ram: What are you gonna do, you corpse bitch. Ji-young was still smiling. Only the meaning behind that smile had changed. Easing her waist back against the chair as if to take a measuring look down at her, Ji-young — carrying the worthlessness in her smile — lifted her chin slightly to look down on Bo-ram with a regard of contempt.

Bo-ram: You think you can prattle on like that, what're you actually gonna do. Hauling all of us in here, what're you gonna do, huh?! If you wanna point fingers, point them at your damn mother, who sat there squatting and turning a blind eye to all of — Seon-woo's fist locked tight. The thought of tearing apart that crafty bitch's loud mouth at once burrowed into Seon-woo's head.

Just as Seon-woo — who had been about to step forward — at last did not step forward and only kept his fist clenched, Bo-ram's furiously running mouth turned into a scream. One of her eyes began to bleed red. From the shadow on the ceiling, a curved blade descended and split open one of Bo-ram's eyes whole. Chae-rim: Master of the West Province. Next, is the throat. The bent tip of forged iron was leveled at Bo-ram's throat. With the slightest twist of the hand, Bo-ram's throat would be carved out.

The fearful gazes of every soul present held the hall in heavy silence. Ji-young, still wearing her smile, folded the scroll she had unrolled, tossed it aside, and let her eyes sweep across the gathering in the hall. The smile she had been wearing fully had, at some point, slipped from her face. Smiling once again, Ji-young conveyed it to the Masters of the Province in the hall. Ji-young: Anyone who unjustly wields a blade — not a single one of them shall I forgive.

Riding on the back of The Covenant, and stirring the secular world with paltry sleight — I will pursue them to the very end and surely put them to death. Those who, to fill even the smallest greed of their own, press down upon others — them, I will pursue to the very end and sever their throats. This is a time when merely turning back unjust death is burdensome enough. The drip of blood-water from Bo-ram's eye onto the floor was loud enough to be heard, so heavy were the silence and the stillness that ran on.

Ji-young: Of course, you may well find my saying such things deeply repulsive. Hearing that a key fit to summon death speaks of turning back unjust death — there will surely be those whose blood runs in reverse at it. If you can — then strike at me. Sever my throat and pin it deep in the Burial Valley of Corpses. But that you have neither the intent nor the skill for it — that, all of you know best.

It is no more than a pretext, the opening move of a scheme to clear away the obstacle that stands between you and your filling of private greed. I — under the pretext of being a presence fit to summon death — am being persecuted by both the living and the dead. You are eyeing my throat. The Envoy's Legion, soaked in deep death, is eyeing my throat. A portion of the native-soil forces, looking around at one another in hesitation, soundlessly stroked the hilts of the blades at their waists. Ji-young: So I will ask.

The blade Chae-rim held still hung over Bo-ram's throat. Ji-young rose slowly from her seat and stood straight in place. Ji-young: Why is it that one to whom living should be a given is no longer entitled to that given. Why is it that both the dead and the living find it improper that I should live — answer me. If you can answer, I will gladly die for you here and now. Whose side am I on. Is the breath I draw, as that woman put it, no more than a corpse drawing breath? Ji-young's smile was — belatedly — set down.

After releasing every word, Ji-young looked at Yeon-jin and spoke. Ji-young: Because I held death within me while still alive, I was sold into a pleasure quarter and hidden away to elude the eyes of the dead. Ji-young then looked at Yu-seok and carried the rest of her words. Ji-young: Because I held death within me while still alive, I had no choice but to stand against the endless persecution carried by the living. Ji-young, once again wearing a faint smile, looked ahead and spoke.

Ji-young: I stand for the living, for life — to console and turn back the death that crosses between this world and the next. That is why I am here. So I ask. Ji-young, after sweeping her gaze across the gathering, kept her faint smile in place and conveyed the heavy question. Ji-young: Where do you think I stand, for what, with my back set against what, in resistance to what, and what do you think I am protecting.

Because the question was a heavy one, no answer could rise from within the heavy silence that followed. The one to break that silence was the scrape of a chair, made by Yu-seok rising from his seat. Yu-seok, slowly and with proper courtesy, rose and bowed his waist, conveying his greeting to Ji-young first. Yu-seok: The Oldest. I came having a request to make of you, openly. Ji-young, holding her smile in place, nodded — granting Yu-seok permission to speak.

Yu-seok: What has become of my position has not, I understand, been officially announced. Demote me. That is what I have come to ask of you. Hee-jin, as if she had been waiting, drew an empty scroll from the cart beside her. After spreading it open before her, she drew a brush from inside her ceremonial robe. As if her readiness to take down the words was complete, she rested the brush quietly upon the paper. Ji-young: As of today, the post of Executive Secretary, Doe Yu-seok, is hereby relieved.

Whether the Relics that follow the post remain in the lineage or not shall be entrusted to the head of the Doe house, Doe Yeon-hui, and the vacant post of Executive Secretary shall be inherited by Doe Yeon-hui upon her release from her sentence. Yu-seok, with the body he had risen straight, bowed his waist deeply and conveyed his greeting to Ji-young. As if having seen through what he came for, Yu-seok — wearing a smile — left his place and stepped away.

Ji-young: Furthermore — the authority for inspections of the provincial native-soil forces that follow shall be entrusted to Executive Secretary Doe Yeon-hui and Director of the Inspectorate Kim Soo-a. Inspections shall be carried out without warning, and depending on the findings, immediate execution shall not be ruled out. Lastly. The reception chamber's door opened, and familiar figures came stepping in.

As the Masters of the Province, looking puzzled, watched the people who had entered in plainclothes, the rest of Ji-young's words followed. Ji-young: Those criminals who coveted secular power and colluded with the secular world shall be entrusted to the laws of the secular world. The police, who had stepped in alongside Ju-hyeon, moved to drag away a portion of the Masters of the Province seated there. As the scuffle began, Ju-hyeon and Jun-hyeok approached Ji-young and offered their greeting.

Ji-young, with a smile in place, bowed her waist deeply to the two. The officials seated nearby also rose to their feet and offered greetings to Ju-hyeon, to whom Ji-young had just been showing courtesy. Ju-hyeon: Hello. We came on a report. Ji-young, with a bright smile rising, pointed to the heap of documents set between Hee-jin and herself. Ji-young: Here. The evidence we've secured.

Among the Masters of the Province who, resisting arrest, were stirring up a commotion, some drew their blades and squared off against the police. 회색 모래(Hoesaek-morae_Grey Sand) rose, snapping the hilts of the blades aimed at the police clean in two. Seon-woo, who had not had a single sentence imposed upon him, slowly rose from his seat and approached the Masters of the Province who had been making the disturbance.

Squaring his back to shield the police, he stepped forward to face — alone — the portion of native-soil forces that had been about to stand against the police. Seon-woo: You motherfucking pieces of shit — I sat there quiet to the end and now you've started to take me for a fucking joke. A portion of the police, having taken minor injuries in the course of arrest, were stumbling back. Ju-hyeon stepped away from Ji-young for a beat and approached the standoff.

Drawing the prearranged arrest warrant from his pocket, he opened it out before the Masters of the Province. Ju-hyeon: This is an arrest warrant duly issued by the court. If you resist, you may face aggravated penalties for obstruction of special public duty — Hyeon-sik's snapped blade was hurled forward. Just as the blade-tip reached the front of Ju-hyeon's eye and his words could not carry on, a clear sound of wire spread, and Hyeon-sik's flying blade was lightly knocked aside.

The thin wire running from Ji-young's wrist, after striking down Hyeon-sik's blade, looped around Hyeon-sik's throat and slammed him to the ground. What met the chill of Ji-young's icy bearing was the black current of water beginning to rise from between the Masters of the Province and the police. Catching the cue at once, Ji-young sprang from her place and stepped in front of Ju-hyeon, blocking the path.

The officials beside Ji-young, too, swiftly rose from their seats and gripped each of their 무구(Mu-gu_Ritual instrument) in hand. The black current spread, and swallowed every Master of the Province whole. The black current rose like a wave and devoured a portion of the Masters of the Province. Watching the Masters of the Province who had vanished from their places in an instant, Ju-hyeon scratched at the back of his head. He spoke to Ji-young, who had stepped forward to shield him.

Ju-hyeon: So this is why you said we didn't need to bring all that many. At Ju-hyeon's awkward voice, Ji-young pulled the wire back in, smiled bashfully, and conveyed a sheepish reply to him. Ji-young: Right? Aigoo, seriously, those grimy things — their lifelines stretch on too. After the officials, who had soothed the wounded police with 잿가루(Jaet-garu_Grey Ash) and altered memories, settled the hall and rose, they came toward Ji-young.

Ji-young, still wearing an awkward look, brushed at her clothes for show and asked Ju-hyeon. Ji-young: Ah, Detective, have you eaten? We haven't had ours yet. Why don't we have a meal together before you go? Ju-hyeon, looking awkward, scratched at his own head. Jun-hyeok carried the words to Ji-young in Ju-hyeon's stead. Jun-hyeok: The truth is, our Chief is a bit sick to the stomach. At Jun-hyeok's words, Ji-young's eyes went wide and she undid her bracelet without a beat.

Ji-young: I'm really good at the thumb-prick. I'll prick it for you right now. Ju-hyeon turned ashen and shook his head with full force, then — leaving a hasty greeting behind — fled the place in a hurry.