Mu-ryeong’s Spirit

Mu-ryeong was the youngest child born into a prestigious family of exorcists. He had loving parents, a playful older brother and sister, and even a dog. Raised with abundant love, he was hailed as a once-in-a-century genius.

From birth, Mu-ryeong’s spiritual energy far exceeded that of a fully trained adult. Without any formal training, he could already control his energy at will. On top of that, his ability to sense spirits was so extraordinary that it was beyond human limits.

People even joked, “If you want to beat Kim Mu-ryeong, you'd better be born on a leap day.” Not that it would have mattered—Mu-ryeong himself was born in a leap month.

Either way, Mu-ryeong’s path as an exorcist was unfolding smoothly. During the day, he attended high school like any other student. At night, he trained at home to hone his spiritual abilities. And occasionally…

“Evil spirits.”

He exorcised evil spirits.

“…What did you just say?”

“I said I couldn’t sleep because of an evil spirit…”

It was May, right after midterms. School hadn’t started yet, and Mu-ryeong lay sprawled across his desk, groaning. His heavy eyelids fluttered open and shut—he was clearly exhausted.

“Ah… an evil spirit.”

Seung-joo, who sat next to him, nodded as if it all made sense. Having known Mu-ryeong since childhood, he could piece things together with just those two words. Either someone had asked Mu-ryeong for help, or—more likely—he had once again involved himself out of sheer nosiness.

“Was it a request?”

“……”

Unfortunately, Seung-joo’s first guess was wrong. Instead of answering, Mu-ryeong averted his gaze. Seung-joo clicked his tongue, muttering, “So, you volunteered again.”

“So? What happened?”

“……”

Mu-ryeong’s face scrunched up. His usually round eyes twisted into a troubled grimace. He looked reluctant, but Seung-joo knew that he would spill everything sooner or later.

“You know… the seniors fainting near the new building.”

As expected, Mu-ryeong finally started talking, still frowning. Seung-joo was already familiar with the incident.

“You mean the English teacher’s flower bed?”

At Haeyeon High School’s new building, there was a garden maintained by a veteran English teacher. Every spring, she planted seasonal flowers, and in autumn, she replaced them with new ones. Recently, however, the area had become the site of strange occurrences—every morning, a different third-year student was found collapsed there without explanation.

“No one was getting hurt, but I wasn’t sure, so I stayed there last night to keep watch.”

Mu-ryeong had spent the night staking out the area to uncover the cause of the phenomenon. He hid in a classroom with a clear view of the garden, waiting until morning. Though drowsiness crept in now and then, staying up all night was nothing new to him.

“And sure enough, a third-year student showed up—completely possessed—trying to climb out the window.”

“What the hell… The window?”

“Yeah, the one right in front of the garden.”

“So? You stopped him from jumping?”

“Of course I did. Do you know how hard it was? I hit my elbow holding him back, and now it’s all bruised.”

Mu-ryeong shot up from his seat, pouting as he extended his right arm. It was the spot he had slammed while tackling the possessed student. When he checked in the bathroom earlier, the area from his elbow down was already turning dark purple.

“Good job. If that guy had actually fallen—wait. Hold on. What floor was this?”

“……”

Mu-ryeong froze.

Seung-joo frowned slightly, sensing something was off. Even if Mu-ryeong had saved that student, none of the previous victims had suffered any injuries. That, in itself, was strange.

Sure enough, after a long pause, Mu-ryeong finally muttered:

“…First floor.”

It was only after catching the student that he realized—he had been waiting on the first floor the entire time.

“I just panicked because he jumped so suddenly…”

Actually, he had been dozing off when it happened, which made the shock even worse. But he didn’t say that out loud. The last thing he wanted was Seung-joo scolding him about losing sleep over things like this.

As expected, Seung-joo let out an exasperated sigh.

“So now you’re getting yourself hurt stopping people from jumping out of first-floor windows?”

“……”

Mu-ryeong wisely kept his mouth shut. He was simple-minded, but he had enough sense to know that saying “At least it was only the first floor” would only make things worse.

With a heavy sigh, Seung-joo rummaged through his bag and pulled out some ointment.

“Anyway, why the hell was that ghost staging a suicide attempt from the first floor?”

“Hey, it wasn’t a suicide attempt. It wasn’t like that.”

Mu-ryeong obediently rolled up his sleeve, then decided to just take off his uniform jacket instead. He was wearing a t-shirt underneath, so it wasn’t embarrassing. Seung-joo absentmindedly applied the ointment as he asked,

“If it wasn’t suicide, then what?”

“A responsible teacher.”

Mu-ryeong’s eyes drooped slightly, his expression turning somber.

Whenever he made that face, Seung-joo couldn’t help but soften a little. At the same time, he wondered—just what kind of story had Mu-ryeong heard this time?@@novelbin@@

“You know how there used to be an old abandoned building where the new building is now?”

There had been a reconstruction project on campus, turning an old, unused structure into a new facility. The renovations had been planned before Mu-ryeong even entered the school, but they weren’t completed until their second year.

The students had complained about the delay, but Mu-ryeong had always thought they shouldn’t have touched the place at all.

“The ghost was a teacher who used to work there.”

Seung-joo’s hand, still holding the ointment tube, paused.

“She became a homeroom teacher for the first time… and then that happened. She knows she’s dead, and she knows she shouldn’t be doing this, but she still has regrets. So she just… went into the body of whatever student she could see.”

“…Then why didn’t she just go to the classroom instead of climbing out the window?”

“I checked the old building’s blueprints. That spot used to be Class 3-1.”

Since the building had been rebuilt, the classroom layout was completely different. A ghost with a fragmented sense of reality wouldn’t know how to navigate the new structure. All it could do was wander aimlessly or keep returning to the place it remembered.

“She passed on the moment she stepped up to the teacher’s podium.”

In fact, she even introduced herself and started roll call—but Mu-ryeong didn’t mention that part. If he went into more detail, Seung-joo’s signature scolding would surely begin. And Mu-ryeong knew exactly how painful his hands could be when applying ointment.

“Well, at least the English teacher won’t be crying about her flowers getting ruined anymore.”

After thoroughly rubbing in the ointment, Seung-joo wiped his fingers on Mu-ryeong’s t-shirt. There were tissues on top of the lockers, but he didn’t bother using them. Mu-ryeong opened his mouth in protest but ultimately just pursed his lips in silence.

After that, Mu-ryeong slept until lunchtime. He dozed through morning self-study, first period, and even while the class moved to the music room.

It was unavoidable. He had given Seung-joo a brief explanation, but in reality, this was his third consecutive night without sleep. No matter how gifted he was, even an exceptional spiritualist like him couldn’t fight off exhaustion forever.

“Kim Mu-ryeong, wake up. It’s time for lunch.”

“Mmm…”

“‘Mmm’ my ass. Get up.”

As soon as the lunch bell rang, Seung-joo shook him awake without hesitation. Mu-ryeong cracked one eye open, then lazily waved a hand as if telling him to go ahead without him. But Seung-joo wasn’t one to give up so easily.

“Eat first, sleep later.”

Skipping meals was unacceptable in Seung-joo’s book. He might turn a blind eye during class, but never during lunch. Besides, Mu-ryeong, as someone who relied on spiritual energy, had to keep up his stamina.

In the end, Seung-joo practically dragged him to the cafeteria. The other students couldn’t suppress their laughter as they watched Mu-ryeong, half-slumped over Seung-joo’s back, being hauled along like a sack of rice.

Mu-ryeong was awake by the time they got there, but instead of walking on his own, he clung to Seung-joo’s back simply because it was easier.

“They’re at it again.”

“Is Mu-ryeong still asleep?”

“Seung-joo is way too nice. If it were me, I’d have left him behind.”

“A father shouldn’t abandon his child.”

“Who the hell just called me a father?”

That last line came straight from Seung-joo’s mouth. While he scowled in irritation, Mu-ryeong swung his legs playfully, beaming. He was blatantly enjoying himself, and to top it off, he pushed the joke even further.

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

“You little shit.”

Without hesitation, Seung-joo pried him off and let him drop. Mu-ryeong landed smoothly on both feet and stretched with a satisfied yawn. Thanks to his nap, he finally felt a little more refreshed.

“What do you even do at night, Kim Mu-ryeong? You’re always sleeping during the day. Don’t tell me you actually go ghost hunting.”

Someone in line ahead of them joked. It was obviously meant as a lighthearted remark, and Mu-ryeong, equally unbothered, casually responded, “How’d you guess?”

Only Seung-joo sighed, rubbing his temples as if he had a headache.

“Ghosts aren’t real.”

“Why not? I believe in them.”

“Me too. I didn’t use to, but after hanging around Mu-ryeong, I’m starting to think they might be.”

Before long, the conversation drifted to urban legends. Stories from the internet—things about shadows emerging from closets, unseen hands knocking on doors at night, or grim reapers appearing in dreams.

After spending the past few nights being harassed by spirits, Mu-ryeong wasn’t exactly thrilled by the topic.

“Speaking of which, Mu-ryeong, I’ve got a request for you.”

Out of nowhere, a friend beside him grabbed his arm. Ironically, it was the same student who had just claimed not to believe in ghosts. Mu-ryeong didn’t call him out on it, though. Instead, he simply hummed in thought.

“Hmm…”

After starting high school, Mu-ryeong had begun taking on small exorcism jobs. Things like weird noises in the music room, an elevator acting up in someone’s apartment, or persistent nightmares.

At first, he only handled supernatural cases, but over time, word spread, and now he was even being asked to deal with stalkers or act as a fake boyfriend. At this point, he was less of an exorcist and more of a problem-solver.

Not that he minded. Helping others was what mattered to him. Plus, he was always paid for his services.

What made his payment system unique, though, was that he never accepted money.

“Min-ji, you don’t have anything I want.”

“What if I pay you?”

“I already have plenty of money.”

Instead of cash, Mu-ryeong always asked for small, old objects—things that had been used for years. A childhood mechanical pencil, a worn-out eraser, or even a cheap friendship ring from middle school.

The smaller and older, the better.

“Do you have anything over ten years old?”

“…Does an old couple’s ring from my ex count?”

“…I said ten years.”

Mu-ryeong let out a soft laugh. Min-ji smirked back, shaking her head.

Just as he was about to ask if she had an old hair tie or something similar, an unexpected interruption cut him off.