The Shaman Wants Transcendence

97 – The Double Take

“Where is there someone who can give me a great explanation?”

Viktor Alexandrovich Smirnov (Ви́ктор Александрович Смирно́в) stood in front of his men and frowned. Its ferocious expression reminded me of a beast of prey.

“You tell me.”

“As in the previous report, the number of shamans operating near the place where the human sacrifice ceremony took place is 5. Among them, 2 are foreigners, and 2 out of 3 Russian national shamans were confirmed to have been at a meeting of Russian businessmen on the day of the incident. The remaining 1 Myung was confirmed to have been with a pack of wolves on CCTV footage.”

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Viktor gestured as if to explain further.

“First of all, the obvious suspect is a shaman who worked as a fortune teller. Michael T Murphy. He is from Ireland and is 33 years old. The occult used is the Annun Vigilant occult among the Celtic occult, and the occult shaman uses a symbol related to ‘Chrome Cruach’. , It is assumed that he was the subject of the human sacrifice ritual. Also, the death was confirmed by a military shaman, and it is estimated that his life was paid for the human sacrifice rite.”

“Okay.”

Victor tapped the table.

“If he’s killed, he’s not the guy who ran away from me intact.”

“That’s right.”

“Even explain. Oh, only foreign shamans, not Korean shamans.”

“I understand. My name is Jinseong Park. I am from a unified Korea, and I am 18 years old…”

Viktor cut off his subordinate’s words.

“Stop it. A gore bastard can’t exert that much power. Exclude him.”

“All right.”

He leaned back in his chair and gathered his thoughts.

‘I’m sure the fortune teller Irishman is for sure.’

It’s clear that the fortune teller, Michael T Murphy, has dabbled in human sacrifice.

This was guaranteed by the warlord shaman, and under the circumstances, there is no other culprit besides this guy.

If so, the question arises here.

If the person who performed the human sacrifice disappeared as an idiot, who was it that bumped into him?

‘A gore, two crooks next to Bourgeois, a psychopath who thinks I’m a wolf.’

The three Russian sorcerers have alibis, and the least suspicious one is a clot of blood on his head.

But what the hell can a guy who hasn’t even become an adult do?

It is also a lump of blood from Korea, where witchcraft has been destroyed.

He slowly recalled the time when he faced someone unknown.

“Hmm.”

Viktor grinned as if he remembered something and gulped down the vodka on the table.

“Keuuu, I was wrong. I’ve never seen him use magic himself. Why did I only think I was a sorcerer?”

Cooong!

“It’s not just the shaman, it looks like the others are wearing it.”

He set the bottle of vodka roughly and looked at his men.

“Is there anything special about the rats?”

“There is.”

“Oh, yes?”

“Recently, the anti-terrorism unit said they caught rats that looked like they belonged to the Azov Battalion.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow at those words.

“Azov Battalion? Those f*cking Nazi bastards?”

“That’s right.” ＜Br＞ hehehe.”

Victor laughed lightly.

They wear the name of battalion, but in reality they are nothing more than a militia.

A troublemaker in Ukraine who believes in the Nazis on a Slavic subject and goes about all sorts of accidents.

Moreover, whenever they were bored, they would touch people of Russian descent or crawl into Russia and sabotage them.

“What do you think will happen if you kill these bastards?”

Viktor murmured as he tapped the table with his index finger.

“Yes. To release evil spirits, you can use a demon box (קופסת דיבוק) or a cursed item. Hmm. The more I think about it, the more I think I need to get rid of these guys.”

“Let’s find out.”

“No. This is a guy I know.”

Viktor intercepted his eager men and contacted someone.

[Oh, Victor. What happened all of a sudden ]

The person who contacted him greeted him in a friendly voice even before Viktor could introduce himself.

“I heard that the anti-terror unit caught Ukrainian Nazi bastards?”

[ Okay. ]

“Those bastards must have been passed on to you, right?”

[ Yes. ]

“I have a pup I need to catch and slaughter, but it seems to have something to do with your business. When you loosen your tongue gently, ask me a question. How about it, is it possible?”

The other person over the receiver laughed.

[ Okay. It’s a motivational request, so you have to listen. ]

* * *

Air can have infinitely different properties depending on the place.

In an open and windy place, the air is infinitely light, and if you smell it, you will be able to fly across the sky, and if you add the right temperature to it, you will feel tired as if you made each step lightly and covered the road with clouds. Make it not

But on the other hand, air can become infinitely heavier, and it can crush and droop a person’s body, creating a shape worse than a wet wad of cotton in the rainy season.

Just like the air in the bunker.

Concrete wall.

The concrete of the bunker built in the days of the Soviet Union itself seems to give off a rotten smell, and the bumpy surface that seems to grind the skin to the touch and the smooth but cold feel make the air feel cold and sagging.

Just as a tree breathes in carbon dioxide and exhales oxygen, concrete inhales fresh oxygen and exhales poisonous air. The concrete left traces of black mold, and the water mixed with the lacquer to remove it gave off a bad smell.

The smell of corpses as fungi die off in the lacquer stings the nose, and the smell is so strong that it brings up the imagination that mold is seeping into the brain through the nose and eyes.

Mushrooms and moss grow in corners and damp places, and you can see disgusting earwigs-like things everywhere. The walls of the bunker are so narrow that you have to lean down to safely walk on them, and when you do, you breathe in the air further down, which makes your body feel heavier.

However, this heavy and gloomy landscape was the driving force for Russia to move, and it was a nest that allowed those who acted as soldiers to live safely.

Just as worms make their nests in the ground, this bunker isIt is a nest, and it was a precious space that allowed them to work secretly.

“Hey, just call it.”

But as strong as the coziness of the nest is its intimacy.

In the depths of the bunker, which was officially abandoned after the collapse of the Soviet Union, something secret was going on.

In what appears to be a break room, two people who appear to be Russians are eating cup noodles with mayonnaise on top of it. In the dimly lit area, there are several people tied up in large letters and a Russian who looks playful.

“You foolish Hahol bastards. Isn’t it about time you started talking?”

The Russian made an artificial smile by touching the scar on my cheek.

One of the tied up men lifted his head with difficulty and opened his mouth to look at him.

“You Moscal (Москаль) bugger… What are you talking about…”

“Oh no! Our cute Ukrainian asshole Nazis! Shouldn’t we be careful with our mouths?”

The Russian spoke with a wry smile and pressed the man’s forehead with his index finger. The Hakenkreuz, which was used by the Nazis during World War II, was clearly tattooed on the part that was mockingly pressed.

“Yes, it was Tatar, not Moscal…”

“Oh, Tatar.”

The Russian hardened his expression when he heard that.

“I don’t know what kind of situation you are in right now.”

The Russian picked up the rope from the table.

At the end of the rope was a knot reminiscent of a fist.

Monkey Fist Knot.

It was a knot that could make a blunt tool that could break bricks if you put stones or iron beads inside.

He moved the rope back and forth like a pendulum motion, and tied a knot around the man’s groin.

“Oooh!”

The Ukrainian man tried to bend down on his own in terrible pain, but the ropes restraining his body prevented him from bending down properly and he was forced to groan in pain.

“How do you tasty? It’s a way that Fish & Chips cubs use spy torture.”

“Keuk, kkeuk.”

“So tell me. What kind of sabotage you guys were trying to do when you crawled all the way into Russia, what kind of tweaks you did. And what does it have to do with the human sacrifice ceremony?”

hehehe…”

The Ukrainian laughed at the Russian’s threatening words, but did not say anything.

When the Russian, who had reached the limit of his patience, tried to hit him with the rope again, he opened his mouth.

“Are you new?”

“What?”

“Even street pickpockets won’t blow it with that stupid method. It wasn’t like this in the KGB days, but your seniors drank radioactive black tea and died, so your skills are terrible? hehehe.”

The Russian crumpled his face, as if provoked by the mockery.

“Yeah. It was like an idiot.”

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However, perhaps it was not only the person in charge of torture who was stimulated by the mockery, but a bald middle-aged man who was eating cup noodles in the break room got up from his seat.

f*ck!

He kicked the boot in the shin of the Russian holding the rope. As the Russian’s body lost his balance in sudden pain, he seemed to get even more angry, kicking him several more times with the boots, knocking him completely to the floor. And when the Russian fell to the floor, I kicked him in the face like a soccer ball.

Wow!

“I told you to do well, do stupid things and get provoked. You’re really good at it. Wake up!”

“Yes!”

The Russian who fell to the floor jumped up and stood up at attention without even thinking to wipe the blood from his nose, as if he was used to violence. The middle-aged man whispered in the ear of the Russian who stood at attention.

“Look closely. Digging up information is like this.”

The middle-aged man stroked my hairless hair with his right hand and turned to the Ukrainian.

“You idiot Slav-Nazi. This is what you did.”

He said that like a bluff and then turned to someone else.

The place he was heading to was a young man with a sleek body that looked like he was in his twenties.

He undid the knot tied around the body of the young man with his head hanging down, grabbed the young man by the hair as he fell to the floor, and dragged him to the bunker wall.

“Hey. I don’t know if you can see it with your eyes, but look at the mold on this wall. Isn’t it a strange shape?”

There was mold growing on the walls of the bunker.

However, the unusual place is that it was forming a different shape than the usual mold that usually spreads three to the entire wall.

A round mark reminiscent of a lollipop.

And a long stick-shaped thing below it.

It looked as if the grudge of a person who had died from torture left traces in the form of mold.

“This product of the old war is not a good place for people to live. At least, they made all sorts of fuss to get rid of the mold, and it became a space where they could barely stay. But in some places, the mold doesn’t get rid of even if they die. It’s not water mixed with lacquer, it’s just water Even if you pour lacquer undiluted solution, the mold doesn’t grow, and even if you scrape the wall, mold grows again. Even if you lay a heating wire, mold grows, and even if you keep burning that part with fire, it’s the same.”

The middle-aged man said as if he were explaining to the young man he had caught.

But the voice was quite loud, so everyone in the room could hear it.

“We couldn’t find out the reason until we called in a shaman. He said the resentment was built on the walls because he ground so many cheeky piglets like you on the walls. After all, he grinded so much that the walls gave off a rotten smell. I understand. Did.”

“Change…?”

“By the way. This is really embarrassing. I don’t mind torture because there are a lot of tricks, but there’s nothing like this to relieve our stress. Especially when you see smooth-faced bastards like you!”

The middle-aged man gently touched the scar on his cheek, as if it was throbbing.

It was a proud wound that showed that he was from Spatsnaz, made by putting a greatsword in his mouth and piercing it through himself.

The middle-aged man declared to everyone in the room.

“From now on, I’m going to play with you. I’m going to grate your faces on this great Soviet concrete heritage. If you want to talk, say it. I’ll take the stress out of your faces!”

Cooong!

As if not only talking, he hit the young man’s head hard against the concrete wall. Then, a terrible rotten smell that seemed to rip out his brain entered the young man’s nostrils, and he saw a fantasy that seemed to be delighted with mold growing and grinding his face.

No, maybe it’s not an illusion.

An object that has killed too many people will possess evil spirits.

That wall that will shatter his face might also be a cursed object holding an evil spirit.

“Speak, speak. I will speak!”

“What?”

“I will speak!”

The middle-aged man grinned at the terrified cry and grabbed the young man by the head and began to drag him to the break room. Then he whispered in the ear of the Russian who was standing at attention.

“You have to destroy the weakest part first.”