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**Empty Card.**

A card that is void of any markings.

But paradoxically, the absence of anything gives birth to its own meaning.

Known also as the Blank Card, its significance lies in uncertainty, prohibition, and secrets.

Jinseong gazed at the Empty Card, contemplating for a moment before collecting all the cards neatly.

He then flicked them lightly with his fingers, misaligning them slightly, and slowly raised his right hand.

With his right hand raised, Jinseong lifted only his index finger, closed his eyes, and began to gradually elevate his senses.

What emerged behind his closed eyelids was darkness.

Not complete darkness, but a bright darkness embellished with light piercing through his eyelids.

Within that bright darkness, Jinseong moved slowly, as if gliding through water instead of being on solid ground.

As if he were enveloped not by air, but by water.

The light filtering through was like that which falls from the surface to the depths, while his fingers moved languidly, hindered by the resistance of the water.

Holding his breath would evoke the sensation of being underwater, and if he concentrated and enhanced his imagination, he could almost smell the aquatic essence wafting from his nostrils.

His tongue yearned to escape, twitching as if desperate to get out, while his lips remained firmly pressed together as if to lock the door shut, and his teeth stuck to each other tightly, creating a barricade. The breath attempting to flow from his throat swirled helplessly within the cave of his body, lost and gradually weakening, while his nostrils narrowed, as if they could not inhale water.

Thus, even on land, he mimicked a movement as if he were underwater.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

As if sensing the flow of water, with painstaking slowness…

And so, Jinseong’s fingers began to move, concentrating sensation at their tips to start gathering information about his surroundings.

Flow.

He could feel the flow.

Like someone breathing life into him, or a playful breeze gently whispering from afar, taking its sweet time to finally reach his fingertips.

From there, an incredibly faint and faintly ticklish flow could be perceived.

The sensation clinging to his finger was as though it were dust on a narrow pathway, or something brushing against him lightly.

Could it be the feeling of shaping a soul into hair and sweeping it past with a hand?

Or perhaps if the gown of a fairy were made even more sheer and delicate, brushing against his fingers like this?

An illusion-like, delusion-like sensation.

This feeble and ticklish sensation brushed against the tips of Jinseong’s fingers.

And another feeling washed over him.

It resonated with the heat within his body, and with the coldness also reigning in his being.

He could almost visualize the heat of his blood, spreading through the void of air, waiting to reconnect, as if observing it grow ever fainter, detaching itself further.

Coolness lingered, so faint that one could barely say it was cold, reaching out from afar. It bore the slight chill reminiscent of a soul exhaling before ascension, yet was so feebly weak compared to the warmth of the living.

Jinseong delicately let his fingers dance between these two energies.

Slowly.

Drawing circles.

He acted outside the realm of what he knew about manipulating energy or temporarily storing it within his body.

For the external energy to retain its purity.

To simply follow Jinseong’s fingertip’s movement, keeping the purity untainted by his thoughts or will.

Jinseong moved the energy with utmost caution, as if weaving delicate threads through the fabric of reality, turning his fingers slowly.

After a few rounds, feeling that the energy had followed him,

Jinseong began to imprint that energy onto the card.

Layer upon layer, he infused coolness.

Layer upon layer, he infused heat.

Thus, he alternated between embedding coolness and heat, ensuring that every single card on the floor was thoroughly infused…

“Hoo.”

With a light exhale, he breathed gently onto the card,

As if to set a windmill into motion.

Jinseong’s breath, long and thin, streamed towards the card, swirling as if trying to form a cyclone around it. He spiraled downward and then up again, creating swirling movements all over.

The spiral took flight, initiating the slow movement of the cards.

From left to right.

From right to left.

Each card, layered with heat and coolness, began to rotate with the flow of the wind, gradually gaining speed as time passed.

“Wow…”

The sight was akin to the cards performing tricks, an awe-inspiring spectacle for all present.

Thud.

Thud.

The cards, having begun their rotations, increasingly accelerated, ejecting others that couldn’t keep up.

Some soared over the table.

Some flung out beyond the table’s edge.

Some flew right into Jinseong’s arms.

Thus, the cards danced wildly, and ultimately, they scattered, fluttering as they settled on the floor.

In the end, only one single card remained, all others scattered in a flurry.

Jinseong halted the spin of the last remaining card with his index finger and flipped it over.

“Hmm.”

What greeted him on the flipped card was nothing but emptiness.

An Empty Card.

The Blank Card welcomed Jinseong once more.

He placed the Empty Card back down and examined the scattered cards that had flown into his embrace.

“Co-workers…”

The flipped cards were a colorful assortment.

From playing cards to tarot, a blend so eclectic it defied uniformity.

Yet, the commonality among these cards was clear; all of them signified meanings like ‘partner’ or ‘colleague.’

Observing the cards that had flown toward him, Jinseong nodded, as if grasping an idea.

He placed the verified cards neatly on the table and reached out.

His next target was those cards that had flown towards the direction of the witches.

He first flipped the cards that had landed near Agnes.

Like Jinseong’s, those flipped cards were an assorted collection.

This time, even the meanings diverged, utterly lacking in uniformity.

But there was one peculiar card atop the stack landing near Agnes.

“Pentacle 8…”

The card that dominated the others bore Solomon’s seal, eight in total.

And crucially, it was turned over.

The meaning behind it was…

‘Invalid.’

The card directed towards Agnes proclaimed.

Bearing no significance at all.

The card that flew towards Agnes was, in fact, negated.

Jinseong nodded and flipped the card that had flown towards the Great Witch.

There, too, like Agnes, a singular card rested atop a slew of others.

Five swords.

Five sharp blades stood upright.

This card, too, carried a meaning of negation.

Invalid.

Hence, it conveyed that there was no connection with the Great Witch.

Moreover, it also implied that the cards beneath bore no meaning.

The same held true for Anastasia and Ella.

They, too, had one card perched atop multiple others, and flipping that card revealed nothing but invalid or similarly themed cards in response.

‘This quartet has no relation.’

This indicated…

‘The attention is directed towards me, or perhaps towards an unspecified multitude.’

The cards flying toward him solidified this thought further.

Each one denoted meanings connected to cooperation or colleagues.

This suggested that another shaman was responsible for orchestrating this situation…

But just who could it be?

The former?

Or the latter?

‘If it targets an unspecified multitude, then it’s related to the Ritual of Magic. If it targets me, then this is akin to a signal.’

A faint smile crept across Jinseong’s face, illuminated by bubbling intrigue.

“Let’s see, who could be behind such a deed…?”

Jinseong slowly flipped his hands, palms facing upward.

He placed his left thumb atop his right hand, clenched into a fist, while the left hand’s thumb tucked inside the right, with the remaining four fingers curled around the fist. Much like creating the Buddhist hand seal known as the “Wisdom Fist.”

However, once he brought this shape to his chest, he flipped it over. His inner wrist turned outward, and as he steeled his arms, an unnatural form emerged.

In that stance, he extended his fingers, forming peculiar shapes several times before disintegrating the formation, briefly closing his eyes to silently chant something.

Then, raising both hands, he brought his index and middle fingers together and…

*Thwack!*

He clapped his left and right fingers together, producing a sound.

*Flick.*

To his amazement, alongside the sound of clapping fingers, two cards began to stir.

One was directed toward Jinseong, one of the cards symbolizing cooperation, which spun in mid-air before dropping back to the ground.

The other was a card that had already fallen.

Major Arcana 13.

Death.

‘This.’

These two cards spoke to Jinseong.

A shaman had indeed arrived in Korea, at this very moment.

 

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