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The appearance of the man who introduced himself as a journalist looked more like that of a homeless person than a reporter.

What on earth has he done? His filthy clothes reeked of alcohol, as if he had been drowning himself in it. On top of that, a terrible smell of unwashed body wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of booze.

His face was adorned with a wild, unshaven beard, and his eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn’t eaten properly and had been consumed by drinking for days. Plus, he looked so dazed that one might suspect he had been on drugs, with his gaze unfocused and a hint of madness leaking from the smile he tried to wear.

To anyone looking, he was clearly not a journalist, but rather a lunatic from the mountains.

And it wasn’t just his peculiar look.

The items he carried were also strange.

His backpack was covered in twigs and leaves, as if he had been wandering through the woods for days, and it was plastered in dried mud, as though he had been rolling around on the ground. Additionally, vines wound around the zipper pull, though it was hard to tell if it had happened by accident or design.

And just look at his hands and arms!

They were covered in minor cuts, as if scratched by something sharp. The swelling and dried blood formed patterns oddly reminiscent of tattoos.

“A journalist… you say?”

No matter how you looked at it, he wasn’t a journalist.

That was an appearance that evoked the image of a crazed person lost in the mountains.

Chaine looked at Lee Jae-soon with a suspicious gaze, as if she absolutely couldn’t believe it, and when Lee Jae-soon was out of sight, she took out her smartphone to call the police.

“Well, that won’t do any good.”

But Lee Jae-soon chuckled, as if he already knew Chaine intended to report him to the police.

“Ms. Chaine, I’m not asking for anything extravagant. Just a little interview and your cooperation for a moment. I’m not a criminal; I’m a journalist, after all!”

“Is that so…?”

“Ah, I see. You don’t believe me. Or perhaps you just don’t want to do an interview?”

Lee Jae-soon’s bloodshot eyes narrowed in a sly grin.

“Right, I get it. It’s not like a social reporter suddenly asking for an interview is going to seem appealing. If I were from the entertainment department, I could potentially offer you a good article or build some connections. But what’s up with a social reporter doing this? Am I right?”

He spoke in a madman’s style, slow and fast, punctuating here and there and fluctuating in volume.

He looked at Chaine with dazed eyes, glancing past her, at the empty air behind her, and then up at the car’s ceiling.

It was the erratic behavior of a lunatic.

“Alright, then I’ll give it to you. I have something I can provide. It’s information that you need as well, Ms. Chaine. But you must remember this: trades do not happen with one side giving only. It requires a reciprocal exchange. If I give you something, then you must give back; if you give to me, then I would give back to you. How fair can it get, right?”

Lee Jae-soon twisted into a crooked smile and raised one hand.

In that hand, he held a peculiar doll.

It looked like a wooden carving, sporting an ugly face with a hooked nose, resembling one of those cheap fairy dolls bought as souvenirs in Europe. The fairy doll was dressed in red and held a shoe in one hand and a needle in the other.

A bizarre doll.

A grotesque toy.

Chaine felt a madness radiating from Lee Jae-soon as he stared at her from the driver’s seat.

The madness emanating from one with a twisted mind.

The chill that came with witnessing that madness… rendered Chaine motionless.

“Oh, Ancestor. Oh, my Ancestor. You who are a mere fragment of the Tuatha dé Danann. This insignificant descendant and drunkard asks you. The woman before me is truly lovely, might you have a story to share as an offering for my indulgence?”

Lee Jae-soon twisted his lips and spoke to the doll, with an overly polite tone, as if the doll were alive.

Having asked that question, he hoisted the doll up to his face and shook it gently as if to show, nodding its head in time with his words.

“Oh, my descendant. You who rejects fairy beauties, grand banquets, and eternal dances, only lusts after drink. When once I crafted shoes from deer hide blessed by the hand of a Greek god, and those shoes wore down, creating a hole in the sole, and when gold coins flowed out through that hole like raindrops through leaves, when they settled on the ground and formed little hills! At that time, I heard countless stories!”

The scene was grotesque.

He truly looked like a madman, posing a threat as if he might snap and attack at any moment.

“Espen Askeladd or Askeladen, who always rummaged through ash, was with a bear! He brewed wine from the blood of trolls, poking their eyes with a hemp comb, and regaled in fun! A sip for the fox, a sip for the fabled golden bird that would someday appear! A sip for the boy caked in ash, and a sip for the bear that served as his drinking buddy! Cheers! Cheers! Cheers!”

Lee Jae-soon spoke in an exaggerated manner, lowering the doll from his face and turning to look at it as if asking,

“Oh, nothing is as sincere as the tales shared over drinks! Especially when it’s not between person and person, beast and beast, fairy and fairy, nor demon and demon! People become sincere in front of beasts, and fairies lose their flaws in front of demons, don’t you think?”

Having said that, he once more hid his face behind the doll.

“Right? You dastardly drunkard! One sip makes you as gentle as a sheep, two sips have you dancing and singing like a monkey, three sips grant you the heart of a lion, and four sips have you rolling around in filth!”

And so, Lee Jae-soon performed a bizarre one-man show.

“Ancestors! It pains me to hear you say that! Drink of courage and proclaim the truth! I’m not drinking; I’m taking a magical potion that makes me a warrior!”

He pretended to be intoxicated.

“Courage, courage! Oh, so important! Espen Askeladd or Askeladen was indeed a man full of courage! So much so, he could slay a dragon! Where was that? North or south of the Stard peninsula? Anyway, he slayed dragons, roamed the world, and became a hero! And I was fortunate enough to hear the tales of that hero!”

He held the doll as if he were a fairy.

“There was a tale about the ash-covered Espen saying that somewhere far away, there exists a vessel that speaks of the filth that clings to one’s body. That vessel had the mysterious power to warn people before the filth spills over and saves them! Hearing that, I thought, Ah! My shoes could do that too!”

“Is that so? For an Ancestor like you, performing miracles with shoes wouldn’t be strange at all. Especially if you filled those shoes with drink, that would be the best of all!”

“Slip-tap-tik-tak! Soak leather in waste and urine, pound and slice! If you sew and sew the precious leather for shoes, excellent shoes will be made! And those shoes would be worth more than any treasure in this world; they can do anything!”

Lee Jae-soon displayed this insane puppet show.

As he glanced at Chaine, who was recoiling in shock from the bizarre scene.

He smiled back at her as if her terrified eyes were looking at a creature emerging from the abyss.

“Alright then. Ancestor, what did those shoes say about this woman?”

He held the doll aloft, not wiping the smile from his face.

“The shoes say there are those who throw filth at women! Cowardly and filthy folks like monkeys flinging dung from the trees, trying their tricks, and warning that in the sea of malicious and vile information, they’ll get caked in excrement! It won’t wash off easily, so beware!”

“Who are those monkeys?”

“Not the boss! Not the manager! Not the team leader! But oddly enough… there’s only one left? That woman must know what it means! Ha-ha-ha!”

Lee Jae-soon burst into exaggerated laughter, like a clown, then suddenly stiffened his expression.

Looking at Chaine, he said,

“Ms. Chaine. That was valuable information, wasn’t it? If you come up with a countermeasure quickly, there won’t be an issue. Wasn’t that quite helpful information?”

“Yikes….”

Chaine looked at Lee Jae-soon as if he were a madman.

“And now you have to answer my questions.”

And Lee Jae-soon didn’t shy away from her terrified gaze.

Instead, he bore his crazed, gleaming eyes into hers, merely demanding the ‘cost’ he was due.

“Ms. Chaine. When you shot that broadcast with the shaman, tell me all the information. Everything.”

 

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