TFN C65

Chapter 65

The rain-soaked clothes clung heavily to Wonhyo’s body, dragging him down as water dripped from every hem.

While his body trembled from the cold, his mind busied itself with frantic thoughts.

I’m never coming into the Tower again.

But… if by some terrible chance I ever do, I need waterproof gear. Maybe something with temperature control.

No, wait. Better yet, I should just carry a dozen protective charms for every possible disaster.

No—forget it. I should just never come back here again.

Wonhyo gritted his teeth, trying to suppress the violent shivering that wracked his body.

“It’s the village,” Cheongmun announced at last.

Wonhyo looked up.

Beneath a massive dangsan tree stood a heap of stacked stones, and across the path loomed the wooden guardian totems—Cheonha Daejanggun and Jiha Yeojanggun.

It was unmistakably a village.

Cheongmun steadied him as Wonhyo stumbled forward one step at a time. Step, rest, step again—until, finally, he crossed the village boundary.

It was strange—just one step, and the rain stopped.

Inside the village, the ground was dry, as though no drop had ever fallen here.

Water still dripped from Wonhyo’s clothes, pooling beneath his feet as he caught his breath. He placed one hand on the bundle and used the other to wring out his jacket.

It was winter clothing, soaked to the core, heavy as stone—he doubted he’d be able to squeeze the moisture out at all.

Then Cheongmun approached, took the coat from his hands, and twisted it in one clean motion.

Shaa—!

A cascade of water splashed onto the ground. Wonhyo stared, stunned—wondering how much heavier his shirt and pants must be.

That was when he sensed a presence approaching.

“You’ve arrived,” a voice said.

“Huh?”

Wonhyo turned—and froze, mouth hanging open.

It was the old man from the pavilion on the mountain.

Pipe clamped between his teeth, the old man chuckled heartily.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

But you are one, Wonhyo thought, fighting the urge to say it out loud.

He averted his gaze from the thatched houses behind the man, bit his lip, and forced himself to speak.

“You came down early, I see.”

If he was going to come down anyway, why send Wonhyo to carry the bundle in the first place? Why make a stranger do the work?

The question simmered in his chest like boiling popcorn.

“Early?” The old man laughed. “Ah, that must’ve been my younger brother on the mountain. I’m the elder.”

Wonhyo blinked. “Elder… brother?”

“That’s right.”

“Really?”

“Of course. What would I gain from tricking you?” the old man said, puffing out smoke. “It’s not as if I’ve anything to gain by teasing visitors who bring offerings to our village.”

Wonhyo’s suspicion softened—just a little.

It wasn’t as though the Tower’s quest system would reward ghosts for pulling pranks.

He brushed his wet hair back and looked around.

“The boy said I needed to deliver this bundle to a lady in the village—the gaksi. Would you happen to know which house she’s in?”

Neither the boy nor the mountain spirit had told him the exact location, so he’d been worried. Now, it seemed, luck was finally with him.

The old man nodded eagerly. “Of course I know. Come with me. The young lady’s been scolding me all morning, saying I made her wait too long.”

Wonhyo winced guiltily, recalling how long it had taken him to reach this point.

But the old man didn’t press further—he simply turned and began walking ahead.

Wonhyo adjusted his grip on the bundle, which felt noticeably lighter now, and glanced toward Cheongmun.

“So once we deliver this, that’s it, right?”

“It should be,” Cheongmun replied, pushing his glasses—now completely dry—back onto his nose with a faint smile.

The two stood still for a moment too long, prompting the old man to wave them forward impatiently.

Following a ghost into a stranger’s house didn’t sound like the best idea, but Wonhyo had come too far to back out now.

They passed several thatched cottages and followed the path deeper into the village, until at the end of a narrow lane stood a quaint house with a wide yard.

“Here we are,” said the old man.

The house had a low wattle fence lined with cockscombs and daffodils, and a thick vine of loofah gourds hanging from the eaves. Inside the yard, small flowering trees bloomed in quiet abundance.

The old man pushed open the simple reed gate.

Wonhyo hesitated—could something that flimsy even be called a gate?—but stepped through anyway.

“Is anyone home?” the old man called out.

Wonhyo’s heart thudded hard enough to make his ears ache. Then the pain faded as a woman appeared from what looked like the kitchen.

“Oh my,” she said with a gentle smile. “We have guests.”

“Yes,” said the old man. “They’ve brought the parcel you’ve been waiting for.”

The gaksi’s smile widened as she turned to look at them.

Wonhyo’s shoulders stiffened.

Something about her face—too graceful, too smooth, too still—made his stomach twist. Her eyes glimmered like a serpent’s in sunlight.

He bit his tongue, forcing himself to look away.

“Ah… so that’s why the weather’s been so kind today,” she said softly. “The guest I’ve long awaited has finally arrived.”

She gestured toward a wooden bench in the yard.

“You may set it there.”

Wonhyo approached carefully and placed the bundle down.

The moment it touched the bench, it released his hands.

So easily—like it had been waiting all along for this place.

Startled, he stepped back quickly, afraid it might reattach itself.

The gaksi laughed softly and drew the bundle closer to her.

“Did you happen to see what my husband sent me?” she asked.

“Husband?” Wonhyo blinked. The boy?

The word caught in his head, leaving him momentarily blank, but he instinctively shook his head.

“No, ma’am. I was only asked to deliver it. I never opened it, and I don’t know what’s inside.”

“I see,” she said, smiling again, voice light as silk.

Her laughter made his skin prickle.

From her question alone, Wonhyo guessed that if he’d peeked inside, the quest would’ve failed instantly.

He watched as she began to untie the bundle.

He flicked open the quest window—Deliver the bundle to the gaksi in the village.

All conditions were met. Yet the quest completion notice didn’t appear.

An uneasy chill crept up his spine.

He glanced toward Cheongmun, who quietly reached out and tapped the back of his hand.

The warmth of that small gesture seeped through the cold that clung to Wonhyo’s body, calming him.

He’d done everything right—the errand, the warnings, the trials. There was no reason to fear.

Humming faintly, the gaksi unwrapped the cloth.

Despite the rain they’d endured, the fabric was perfectly dry. Inside was a lacquered chest, its corners inlaid with shimmering mother-of-pearl.

Without hesitation, she opened it.

No sound came from the hinge—but light spilled forth, refracting in countless colors.

“What in the world…” Wonhyo whispered before he could stop himself.

The gaksi turned the chest slightly so he could see inside.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she murmured.

“That’s—the things from the mountain…”

“The Sacred Spring Water and the Jeweled Omija berries,” Cheongmun said, identifying them immediately.

“So that’s it,” Wonhyo said. “No wonder it got heavier each time we passed them.”

It must have been empty at first—then filled gradually, with each trial adding something to the chest: the water, the fruit, the blessing.

Still, it shouldn’t have been that heavy.

“Don’t they tempt you?” the gaksi asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

Her tone was soft—almost playful—but it sent a ripple of unease through him.

“…No. Not really. I think it’s time for us to go now, don’t you?”

He wasn’t stupid.

The treasures were hers—gifts from her husband. It wasn’t his place to covet them, even if those berries did look painfully valuable.

Mostly, though, he was just exhausted.

Cold. Thirsty. Hungry.

He wanted this quest over.

“You’re right,” she said.

She tilted her head slightly, her smile curving into something faintly inhuman.

Wonhyo flinched—and Cheongmun immediately pulled him backward, stepping protectively in front.

“There’s no need to be afraid,” she said gently.

Wonhyo peeked out from behind Cheongmun’s shoulder—then bit his tongue hard to keep from crying out.

Mist began to rise around her, coiling like smoke.

Cheongmun flicked his wrist, and a gun appeared in his hand as if from nowhere.

“Huh?”

Wonhyo stared in disbelief. Skills and inventory were both sealed—so where did that even come from?

Before he could ask, the barrel was already trained on the gaksi.

“Wait—don’t!”

Wonhyo lunged forward, grabbing Cheongmun’s arm.

Instead of pushing him away, Cheongmun caught him, steadying them both as he retreated a step.

The gaksi watched with amused eyes.

A forked, serpent-like tongue flicked past her lips. Her gaze burned with predatory light.

“Are you here to hunt me?” she asked sweetly.

“No!” Wonhyo shouted before Cheongmun could answer. “We’re not! You got what you wanted, right? Then please—just let us go.”

Her eyes brightened. “Oh my… you recognize me?”

Feigning bashfulness, she covered her mouth with her hands—then extended one finger, tracing the air.

At her gesture, the colorful mist surged around the bench.

The chest snapped shut. The cloth wrapped itself neatly back into place. The bundle was whole again—exactly as before.

A return delivery? Wonhyo thought weakly. She’s not… sending it back, is she?

📝 Notes:

• Dangsan Tree (당산나무) – A sacred village tree in Korean shamanic tradition, believed to house protective spirits. 
• Cheonha Daejanggun / Jiha Yeojanggun (천하대장군 / 지하여장군) – Wooden guardian totems placed at village entrances to ward off evil.

   

• Jeweled Omija (보석 오미자) – A mythical five-flavor fruit that quenches thirst and sustains the body, symbolizing spiritual balance.