Chapter 696


The travelers seemed to fragment into several groups, as if they genuinely wanted to enjoy sightseeing in America.

Some groups wandered from cafe to cafe, while others, like ordinary tourists, roamed around hamburger joints, comparing flavors. One person bought food from a food truck and grimaced at the unexpected saltiness and greasiness, while another strolled around Wall Street, snapping photos only to feel somewhat disappointed by the lack of things to see.

To anyone watching, they looked like ordinary tourists.

So ordinary it was almost comical.

Then, as they enjoyed themselves, they gathered in a hotel.

They rented out a spacious room, presumably to save money.

Then, perhaps due to jet lag or having exhausted their energy from sightseeing, they hastily washed up and flopped onto their beds, or they sprawled out on the hammocks set up for travelers from South America.

And then—*click*.

Lights out.

The lights in the hotel room went off, and it seemed the travelers were entering the land of dreams.

Swoosh.

But it was precisely when the lights went out that it was time for them to truly move.

As if to block out the outside light and noise, they emerged from behind the thick curtains.

In the pitch-black hotel room, the travelers rose from their beds, as if they had been waiting for this moment.

The one on the hammock descended to the floor with a bizarre movement, while those in the beds rolled off onto the floor. Then, with a sudden motion—

As if the intermediate stage had been erased, those sprawled on the floor pushed themselves up.

And they moved their feet very quietly, so quietly that someone witnessing it might mistake them for a warrior trained in stealth.

But if you saw them moving in that dark space, a bit awkwardly, in a twisted sort of way, without making a sound—

Well, it would be hard to call them warriors.

Rather than that…

It would be more accurate to describe them as…

People under some sort of enchantment.

Thus, they began to move grotesquely and take action.

One traveler abruptly threw open the bathroom door.

Another traveler opened up a suitcase.

One began to twist their body around, seemingly in distress.

Then, stumbling, they gathered in the center of the room.

Crouching down, as if clutching their chest, they looked toward a single point and opened their mouths.

Uweeeek.

Splash.

As they opened their mouths, what came gushing out was not just any vomit.

It was different from stomach acid and digested food; it was something else entirely.

What splashed out was not a liquid.

It was something oddly translucent, moving as if it were slime.

Ectoplasm.

The materialization of spiritual energy through a physical medium.

The vision of shamans who wield magic related to spiritual energy, and a substance considered extremely dangerous for general use.

Thus, it was indeed a peculiar thing.

Neither a being possessed by an evil spirit, nor an evil ghost mimicking a human.

So what reason could there possibly be for ordinary travelers to have such ectoplasm within them?

Even shamans who deal with spirits cannot handle such a substance without considerable skill.

And even more bizarrely, what they were expelling was not just ectoplasm.

Wriggling near the ectoplasm…

Were insects.

Countless pests belonging to the insect family.

These bugs, having surely been vomited from their stomachs, retained their shape distinctly and even appeared to be alive. Moreover, whether they had adapted to ectoplasm or not, they crawled upon or swam through it freely.

It was an abnormal scene.

If someone were to see this, they might wonder if a horror movie featuring evil beings was being reenacted right there, or suspect that these travelers were actually a cult, lost in some hell, trying to summon evil spirits as fanatics.

Furthermore, their actions mirrored that of zealots.

“Oooh— eyaaa— maiya—”

“Beeyyiroo–ham—”

They resonated with sounds vibrating their abdomen and throat.

It began to produce a long, grand sound, as if rubbing a singing bowl.

Grandly.

But softly.

Isn’t it strange?

Though the sound was so grand.

Low enough to fill the room, yet…

The sound remained soft.

As if something were swallowing it whole, the sound was quiet.

“Fuaaaam—oooh–”

The grand sound spread.

Inside the closed space, it spread wide yet shallow, unable to penetrate the walls.

Thus, they could only remain trapped in that room, circulating it, filling it up—not a sound that escaped.

Like something from a secret society.

Something clandestine, performing rituals in hiding.

And amidst this grand but soft sound, they repeated the same movements.

They raised their hands high.

Lowered their bodies in a bow.

As they rose, they paused midway and squeezed their bellies, retching.

Splash.

The ectoplasm increased.

And the bugs.

Not stopping at just having legs, some even appeared to be parasites.

And they, using the ectoplasm as a cradle, as if making concrete out of it, began to grow in size.

Once more they bowed.

Once more they raised their arms in praise.

The motions repeated, and ectoplasm spewed forth.

Those designated to transport ectoplasm and bugs across the sea fulfilled their role.

As this behavior continued and continued…

Finally, the ectoplasm and the bugs took on a certain shape.

It was roughly 120 cm tall.

A cute little child, not even having lost their baby fat.

With black hair and brown eyes.

A child who appeared to be of Asian descent was born.

Though it looked cute, it was not a human.

An existence made of ectoplasm and insects instead of blood and flesh.

Connected to a shaman in Korea far away.

Having performed rituals remotely to create an existence for activity in America.

Park Jinseong.

Park Jinseong had set foot in America.

Pursuing those who had intruded into his home, possessing ordinary travelers.

He sent them off to America, letting suspicions subside, and finally performed the ritual after exiting their bodies, piecing everything together.

Thus, without raising any suspicions, he had created a conduit in America.

* * *

The form of a young child is useful.

Wherever it goes, it draws people’s attention, and it can’t step into places like bars or clubs, plus comes with restrictions on spending money, and if it walks alone, police or security might intervene.

It’s not really a good body for covert activities.

Moreover, being able to draw the interest of not just adults but also other children is another problem.

Kids are bundles of variables, unpredictable beings.

They might approach trying to befriend a foreign child, or come to pick a fight with one. Furthermore, they might randomly throw punches or try to snatch money, resulting in police involvement…

Yeah. It’s more of a hassle than an advantage.

However, there is one enormous advantage that far outweighs those downsides.

It’s the fact that it doesn’t arouse suspicion.

Unless one is exceptionally cold-hearted or overly suspicious, there are very few who would doubt a child.

Hardly anyone would think a child that looks like a grade-schooler would be holding a gun, or think a child would commit bank robbery or blow up a building. No one thinks a child would go on a rampage or infiltrate a critical facility using special abilities.

The assumption that children are beings to be protected makes people overlook the possibility.

“Not needing too many materials is a perk.”

And from a cost-efficiency standpoint, you could say it was quite reasonable.

Didn’t they manage to create a very decent body through this makeshift ritual?

The effort required to create this body was efficient compared to the one made by the Original Spirit in Japan, which could hardly even be compared.

Of course, unlike the carefully crafted body from Japan, this one was unstable due to the use of ectoplasm and didn’t have a huge quantity of bugs forming it, which was indeed a problem.

Furthermore, though Park Jinseong was involved in the causality, he wasn’t entirely in control, and since ectoplasm was used as material, the risk of being targeted by ghosts was also a concern.

And being unstable raised the likelihood of being detected.

Reflecting on how the Original Spirit, though made of bugs, didn’t draw any suspicion—that too could be seen as a significant downside.

But, well.

Unless it’s something to be treasured and used long-term, what’s the big deal?

Isn’t it simple to toss it away if it breaks after a few uses?