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Chapter 65
Translator: Enuma ID
The moment Park Ji-hun's words landed, the chat froze for a beat.
-LegendBarrel : what?
-Ertel : wait he's not here for a Spirit Reading??
-Gonggilz : then why's he even watching the stream
Ѐ n̄ u m а̇
-Kkoka : if it's a Free Spirit Reading then somethings up
For a moment, no sound came through the Discord.
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Then an unfamiliar man's voice came through.
"I don't know what you mean."
It was the tone of a denial.
Park Ji-hun let the words go in one ear and out the other, peering instead at GrayWolf, who would be sitting in front of his monitor.
Е́ n̄ u m̄á. і̆d̂
The vision he'd glimpsed a moment ago flickered past again.
An office with the lights off.
An empty mug on the desk.
A thin file folder.
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A report template open on the monitor.
A few words were embedded in it.
Ёn̆u̇ m̌_a
Megan Kang.
Shooting incident.
Korean streamer.
Spirit Reading.
Verification required.
At the top of the report was the seal of a US federal agency.
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GrayWolf was no ordinary Viewer.
But Park Ji-hun didn't bother to say so out loud.
Whatever his purpose for coming in, it didn't matter right now.
Park Ji-hun had called on him for a different reason.
Another scene came into view.
A single worn photograph.
W̄е̃ b̊n о̄vе ĺ_ Е́n um̂à
A young woman and a little boy.
The woman had black hair and Asian features.
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On the back of the photo was a line of crooked Korean handwriting.
「My beloved son」
What he saw next was a hospital room.
White curtains.
Wӗ ḃ n̈ ov̀еl̇ Еńu m̄ a
A thin blanket.
A frail old woman lying on the bed.
A hand resting limply.
Park Ji-hun spoke.
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"Speak Korean."
The chat boiled over at once.
Ёn̂ u m̌а̌. і̄ ď
-Ertel : wait he speaks korean??
-BongcheonFireFist : ugh what the, chills again
-NightStarb : wasnt that foreigner just lurking?? creepy
After a moment, GrayWolf answered.
"Korean... I can speak a little."
Park Ji-hun's expression didn't change.
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"Listen to me carefully."
GrayWolf's breathing wavered, just slightly.
Park Ji-hun said, curtly.
"Go to your mother. Right now."
No answer came back.
Park Ji-hun went on.
Е ǹu m̂а̌ .і́.ď
"She's in a nursing home, isn't she."
The chat noticeably slowed.
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-OctopusCandy : for real?
-Ertel : so this is what the Free Spirit Reading was about?
-Mercury_91 : so this is a korean shaman?
-BongcheonFireFist : yikessss
W̄е b̈ n̆о̄.v̆ е̊ l̂ Е̃ ñu̇ m̆ а
For the first time, GrayWolf's voice turned rough.
"What are you talking about?"
It was fluent Korean.
Park Ji-hun said, shortly.
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"She won't make it through today."
The far end of the Discord froze.
Е́n̂ ú mа̃.і d
Park Ji-hun added,
"Don't be late. You'll regret it."
There seemed to be a moment of hesitation, and then the Discord connection cut off.
GrayWolf's name vanished from the list of connected users too.
The chat exploded, a beat behind.
-Ertel : the Spirit Reading works on foreigners too damnnn
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-LegendBarrel : where does the ceiling on this stream even end, damn
-Mercury_91 : he saw the mom's nursing home from just the username??
Park Ji-hun looked at the chat for a moment, then spoke.
"Next."
The Roulette window popped up again.
***
Е_ǹumа̂ .і̂ d
The chat was still loud.
A few foreign Viewers were catching up on the situation late, reading the chat's reactions, while the regular Viewers were busy chattering about what had just happened.
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-Ertel : that guy def wasn't just some ordinary foreign viewer
-LegendBarrel : but the host not even digging into that and just telling him to go to his mom is the scary part
-Mercury_91 : did he really read all that with no info at all?
-SsumyeonMaster : the Free Spirit Reading isnt actually free, its paid in lives, damn
W̄_е b̌ nо̊ v̇ ë l̆ Еn̂umа
Park Ji-hun skimmed the chat, then spun the Roulette.
Usernames flew past on the screen.
After a moment, the Roulette stopped.
[Pururururu]
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Park Ji-hun spoke.
"Pururururu. Come in."
Ӗ ǹ umа̂
The one who came in was a man.
"Oh, can you hear me?"
"Go ahead."
The man drew a breath as if he'd been waiting for this.
"I'm in serious trouble here."
"Trouble?"
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"I think I lost my wedding ring."
The mood in the chat shifted instantly.
-LegendBarrel : oh no
-Gonggilz : yeah thats serious alright
-Gaenyo : Death Anniversary confirmed lol
-Pato : of all things to lose, the wedding ring?? yikes
Ẃ ẽb̆ñ о v̄.е̄ ĺ Еňum̀á
Far from lowering his voice, Pururururu poured the words out even more frantically.
"My wife gets off work in an hour. If I don't find it before then, I'm seriously getting thrown out in my underwear. Please. Please, save me here."
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-BongcheonFireFist : gotta save this man
-Ertel : survival Spirit Reading damn
-SsumyeonMaster : host out here saving lives again today
-Irari : this one shoulda been a Free Spirit Reading lmaooo
Ẃе bn̄ ô v̀ еl̆ Е̇ ñum̌а̂
-Kkoka : newlyweds?
Pururururu answered right away.
"Three months married. Please. She told me to guard the wedding ring with my life, and I went and lost it. Oh god, where is my head."
Park Ji-hun gazed at the screen without a word.
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At first the ring was on the fourth finger of his left hand.
The man was standing at the kitchen sink.
Ӗ n̊ úm а . ĩ_d̀
A scene appeared of him pulling on rubber gloves to unclog the blocked drain.
When the ring snagged, the man slipped it off and set it down beside the sink.
Then it happened.
Tap.
His arm knocked the ring, and it fell from the counter.
The man never saw it.
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The ring rolled across the floor and disappeared under a dark gap.
Park Ji-hun said,
"You didn't lose it."
Pururururu shot back at once.
"What?"
"It's in your house."
Е n̆ um̀а̄
"In my house? I tore apart the living room, the bedroom, the bathroom, even the washing machine."
"Under the fridge."
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Pururururu said, flustered,
"Under the fridge?"
"You pulled on rubber gloves to unclog the sink drain, the ring snagged, so you took it off, right?"
Through the Discord came the sound of Pururururu sucking in a breath.
Е̂ ñŭ m̆а̇. í d
"Whoa! How did you know that? You're right! That's when I took it off!"
"It was sitting on the counter, your arm knocked it, and it rolled under there."
The sound of Pururururu scrambling into motion came through.
"Hold on! Under the fridge? Ah, where's my flashlight. One sec. Please be there. Please."
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The chat heated up at once.
-Ertel : just use your phone flashlight man
Е nu̇ m̌а̃.. і d̈
-LegendBarrel : the search has begun damn
-BongcheonFireFist : itd be hilarious if it actually comes out from under the fridge
-Ertel : a live search with a life on the line, damnnn
Through the Discord, the man's grunting and straining carried on.
It sounded like he was trying to shove the fridge and coming up short on strength.
"Damn it, why is this fridge so heavy....."
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Then, after a moment,
"Huh?"
His voice rose.
"I found it! I found it! Whoa, I'm saved!"
The chat exploded.
-Ertel : it was actually there lmaooo
Е n̆ ů m̆ȧ.
-Gonggilz : husband survival: success!
-BongcheonFireFist : this counts as saving a life too right? lmao
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Pururururu spoke in a voice on the verge of tears.
"Wow... raiding my emergency stash for a Spirit Reading really paid off. Thank you so much."
Park Ji-hun took it indifferently.
"As long as you found it."
Ŵ ӗb̊ nov́_е̄l̀ Е̌ n̈ u mа
"Thank you so much!"
"From now on, don't go setting your ring down just anywhere."
"Yes! I swear I never will again!"
Pururururu left the Discord.
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Park Ji-hun immediately pulled up the Roulette window again.
"Next."
Ėǹ u m̌ ӑ .і̀d
That left five more in the queue.
***
Meanwhile, the morning in northern Virginia was still dark.
GrayWolf, no, Alan Smith, was walking quickly down the corridor of the nursing home.
A phone was in his hand, and on its screen Park Ji-hun's stream was still playing.
But Alan couldn't focus on it for the life of him.
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"That's all for today's broadcast. I'll see you all again tomorrow."
Only after the stream ended did Alan slip the phone into his pocket.
Just then, a nurse at the end of the corridor recognized him and came over.
"Mr. Smith."
"How is my mother?"
The nurse couldn't answer right away.
Е̇ n ûm̊а
Instead she glanced once toward the room, then spoke carefully.
"The attending physician is waiting for you."
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Alan's lips went stiff.
He remembered what Park Ji-hun had said earlier.
「She won't make it through today.」
「Don't be late. You'll regret it.」
W е b n̈ о vӗ_l̀ E ṅ.ǔm а̀
A moment later, the attending physician met him in front of the room.
The doctor's expression was heavy.
"I'm glad you made it in time."
Alan held his breath.
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"How long does she have?"
The doctor took a moment to choose his words, then answered in a low voice.
W̄ е̄b n̂о̃vе l̄ Еn ũm̌ а
"I don't think she'll make it through today."
Alan couldn't say a word.
It was exactly what Park Ji-hun had said.
"...May I go in?"
The doctor nodded.
"She's still conscious."
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Alan pushed open the half-open door and stepped inside.
A machine beeped at steady intervals.
Beep.
Beep.
The room was quiet.
Amid the drawn white curtains, a frail old woman lay on the bed.
Wе̂ b̆n оve l̃ Ěň ũ ṁ á
On a small drawer sat a single framed photograph.
It was a photo the two of them had taken together when he was young.
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Alan moved to the bedside.
He reached out carefully.
His mother's hand was so light.
"Mom."
Ẁе b n̊.о v̇ е̌ l Е n ú.ḿ a
His mother's eyelids fluttered faintly.
Her lips moved, just barely.
"...You came?"
It was Korean.
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Alan steadied his breath for a moment.
"Yes. I came."
W̊ е b n̊ о v̊еl Е́ ńům̆ ӑ
His mother's clouded eyes turned slowly toward Alan.
Thank goodness I got to see my son before I go.
Words like that seemed to be held within her eyes.
Alan gripped his mother's hand a little tighter.
"I'm sorry I'm late."
His mother shook her head, just barely.
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"It's all right..."
At that one word, Alan's throat closed up.
Before he'd come, he'd had so much to say.
Why he couldn't visit more often.
Why he'd cut their calls short.
Why he'd only ever said he was fine.
W̌ е b̂_ńоv̆ е̇l Ѐńů m а̂
But now that he was actually here, every excuse was useless.
Alan barely managed to speak.
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"You don't have to worry about me anymore."
His mother's fingers moved, ever so weakly.
"I'm doing well."
After a long while, his mother parted her lips with effort.
Е̂n̈ umа̃ . ï ď
"Have you eaten..."
Alan's eyes welled up.
"I have."
It was a lie.
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A faint smile caught at the corners of his mother's mouth.
It was a smile that seemed to know even that lie.
Ѐñ uḿ а̇..ĭ d
"Good..."
With that final word, the strength began to drain from his mother's hand.
The machine's tone stretched out, long and unbroken.
Beeeeeeep.
The door opened and the medical staff came in.
Alan didn't step back, not even once.
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He simply held his mother's hand.
Until the last of the warmth faded from her fingertips.
***
Some time later.
Alan sat blankly inside the car he'd parked in the nursing home lot.
It felt as though his mother's warmth still lingered on his fingertips.
W е b̀n̂о̄v ё_l̃ Ӗ_n um̈ а
Her last words still hung in his ears.
「Have you eaten...」
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Alan closed his eyes, then opened them.
Once more, Park Ji-hun's voice came back to him.
「Don't be late. You'll regret it.」
If not for those words, he wouldn't have made it in time.
W е́ b̄ nо̇ v́е l Ēn̊ u mа
He wouldn't have seen his mother's last look, or heard her last words.
Alan opened the laptop he'd left on the passenger seat.
On the screen was the report he'd been writing.
[Case Analysis : Korean Streamer]
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Below it were the items he'd already laid out.
Megan Kang.
Е̃ n u m a.і d
Shooting incident.
Ocean livestream.
Spirit Reading.
Alan stared at the screen for a while.
Back when he'd first watched Park Ji-hun's stream, his first suspicion had been that it was a scam.
But no matter how hard he dug, he couldn't find a single trace of fabrication.
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And that wasn't all.
This time, he'd been through it himself.
Even though he hadn't said a word on the stream, Park Ji-hun had pinpointed the things he'd kept hidden.
It was as if he'd been stripped naked.
Alan scrolled the cursor down.
[Assessment]
W е b̃ ṅ о v́ е̄ l Ĕn̊ûm а
The cursor blinked in the empty field.
He typed slowly.
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No evidence of coordination with the identified shooter.
No evidence of links to a terrorist organization.
No evidence of links to a hostile state actor.
Alan stilled his hands for a moment.
Ẇе b́ ñ о v̌ е̃ l̃ É n u ṁа̂
He couldn't explain what Park Ji-hun had done.
But he couldn't make it into something that had never happened, either.
For a moment, he recalled his mother's smile in that room.
And then he typed again.
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The subject's alleged anomalous perceptive ability remains unverified.
Continued monitoring without direct engagement is recommended.
Ёň u m̊ а̄ .і d
Finally, he added one more line.
No basis for immediate threat classification at this time.
This was the most accurate report he was able to write.
What his superiors had demanded was a link to terrorism.
Within that scope, there was no basis to classify Park Ji-hun as an immediate threat.
Alan moved the cursor over the send button.
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He hesitated a moment, then clicked.
[Report submitted]
A short phrase appeared on the screen.
Alan sat there, unable to close the laptop.
And on that day,
a report concerning Park Ji-hun was entered into the internal records of a US federal agency for the first time.
Ŵ е bn ȯv е̇ l̂ Ѐn̄ u m а̄_
*****
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