I'm the Only One Who Can't See Ghosts-Chapter 119: Alone in the Cave (4)

Wolhyang flushed red.

HIIEEK?

That was the kind of sound a suspicious girl might make when startled. How shameful.

“Ugh... Who’s there?”

Logically, it wasn’t even something to be surprised about.

Who would dare touch her hairpin?

It was probably someone using stealth magic.

But to use a concealment technique that surpassed the Soul Detection Art of the Great Ilwol-Oakmoon Sect—that was practically divine-tier stealth.

Yet with such a high-level technique, all they did was fiddle with someone else’s hairpin?

Whoever it was, they clearly had no sense of shame.

“If you won’t come out, I’ll be forced to use more direct methods.”

Wolhyang shifted her detection method.

Rather than sensing souls, she focused on detecting spell traces instead.

No matter how advanced the stealth magic was, unless it was truly divine-tier, it would’ve left behind some kind of magical residue.

“But only those seeking ascension may enter the Ascension Cave, and those who’ve already ascended cannot come back.”

In other words, someone divine shouldn’t be able to enter.

Wolhyang formed a seal with her fingers and spoke calmly.

“Reveal yourself.”

She had seen ghosts even before the day her Spirit Eyes awakened.

While other kids were entering elementary school, she was up in the mountains, immersed in training.

She wasn’t some ordinary worldly girl who would lose her composure.

A faint smile curled at her lips.

But there was nothing. Not a single trace of magic.

In this room, there was no energy aside from the techniques of the sect disciples present.

Wolhyang’s face hardened.

No stealth spell?

Then was this a soul that couldn’t be detected even without using stealth?

Her thoughts grew tangled.

That couldn’t be.

Was she just imagining things?

No—someone had touched her hairpin.

She was sure of it.

Then what in the world touched it?

“Wh-what is this...?”

Wolhyang glanced around nervously.

But all she could see were hordes of Wonyoungs, vengeful spirits.

Victims of sacrifice, sealed for ages and stripped of their clarity—none of them could have done such a thing.

There was no being here strong enough to bypass her spiritual defenses and physically touch her. novelbuddy.cσ๓

Then... what on earth was it?

“Senior Sister?”

“Is something wrong?”

But her hairpin—was gone.

“M-my hairpin...”

Terror gripped her chest.

* * *

“Shit, what the hell is this? What the hell is going on?”

“Damn it. There are too many damn spirits, I can’t see a thing.”

Of course, I could see just fine.

I watched the flustered “ability users” from my cozy corner of the room.

Seriously, what are they seeing right now?

Thanks to that, I was able to snag—within just ten minutes, mind you—a cheap-looking plastic hairpin, a cutesy bunny-shaped keyring, a bag someone was secretly hiding (looked like it belonged to a subordinate; it had snacks inside), and a slightly smelly blanket.

Ah, and by “snag,” I mean “position transfer.”

That’s the official term used by energy-rich, heavenly demon-style professionals like me. It sounds a lot cooler than “stealing.”

To my eyes, they were just a plastic hairpin, a keyring, snacks, and a blanket.

But to those ability users, these were precious belongings.

Still… it wasn’t enough.

Something inside me was starting to boil.

I was actually starting to think something along the lines of: “These people are trying to gain stronger powers by massacring others. So isn’t the only answer just to wipe them all out?”

“…”

No, no. I stopped myself.

I decided to settle for good ol’ theft—er, “position transfer.”

Then I shook my head quickly, trying to change my train of thought.

What was the phrase written on that jar again?

From what I could understand, it meant something like this:

To reach the next level of an ability user—to become a Earthly Immortal—you must discard what has been given to you by others and realize what it is that has not been given by others.

What hasn’t been given by others…

That must be what they call the Fundamental Vow, right?

It’s not like I randomly go around yelling Heavenly Descent! like some delusional anime fan for no reason.

That Fundamental Vow isn’t something that comes from another person.

Then where does it come from?

There was no answer.

I stopped thinking and looked at the stuff I’d “transferred”—the snacks, the plastic hairpin, things like that.

These must be what they call Main artifacts.

Because the ability users treasured them.

They might look like plain old junk to me, but to someone else, they probably looked like legendary items.

With this haul alone, I’ve basically earned a week’s income.

Artifacts and talismans go for at least a million won a pop.

That means it’s finally time for a meat party, baby.

Restocking Louisville with ability users’ treasured items?

Now that’s what I call a win-win situation…

“Anyone missing anything besides Senior Sister’s hairpin?”

“Um, my keyring... it’s gone.”

“Oh, that one you won at the department store with your girlfriend? That cheap thing? Why would someone steal that?”

Huh? What did you just say?

“You—speak clearly. What was in the bag you lost?”

“W-well, Senior Brother...”

“Spit it out before I get mad.”

“Snacks. I—I get low blood sugar sometimes.”

“Are you trying to die?”

What? You brought snacks with you into a place like this?

You useless little sh— I mean, snacks? That’s it?

Not some rare elixir or artifact?

Then another voice chimed in.

“Senior Sister, wasn’t your hairpin not even spiritually imbued?”

“Yeah. My hairpin was just something my dad gave me when he left me with the Ilwol-Oakmoon Sect. He said a famous shaman blessed it or something… but that guy turned out to be just some scammer.”

The woman, the one everyone called “Senior,” looked… sad somehow.

“Still, it was like a keepsake… something precious to me.”

That’s when I mentally shouted, fuck.

Goddamn it.

Turns out I do still have a little moral triangle left inside me.

Now I felt kind of guilty.

And on top of that… none of this stuff was even worth much.

Quietly, I placed everything back on the table.

But how would they even see this stuff? I couldn’t see myself, and I was right here in the room with them.

Guess there’s only one way.

I placed a wireless speaker next to the table and connected it to my phone using NewTube.

What kind of video should I use to bait their attention?

A song that says sorry?

Ah, NewTube. You really do have everything.

* * *

Just as the disciples of the Ilwol-Oakmoon Sect were on high alert, suddenly, from a corner of the room, a mysterious song echoed out:

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, I’m really sorry—♬”

It made no sense. Obviously, it was a song Yoo Hajin had queued up to apologize for all the sneaky “Position transfer” he’d done.

But to the professional spirit-fighting disciples of the Ilwol-Oakmoon Sect, this aggravating tune was instantly classified as a ghost-wailing incantation.

“It’s a Ghost Lament Song!! Everyone, cover your ears—NOW!”

And so, they did—plugging their ears as tightly as possible.

Despite their vision being clouded by vengeful spirits and now their hearing blocked by what they thought was a cursed melody, not one of them backed down.

Slowly, they turned toward the source of the haunting song.

That’s when they spotted the altar.

Atop it sat the items they had lost.

Even with the ghostly mist thick in the room, as they got closer, the items became clear.

No doubt about it—they were the lost objects.

Strange events had been piling up, one after another. Because of that, Wolhyang and the others had been focusing all their spiritual vision into high alert mode, ready to detect anything paranormal.

And yet… this?

Items disappearing and suddenly reappearing on an altar—without even a trace of spiritual energy involved?

“Wh-what the...”

Was it safe to touch the altar?

It didn’t feel dangerous. There was no threatening energy.

But still… this was completely outside the laws of the spirit world as they knew them.

As the Ilwol-Oakmoon Sect disciples hesitated, reluctant to retrieve their belongings, Yoo Hajin could only sigh quietly to himself.

‘Seriously? You can’t even see what’s right in front of you?’

There was no other choice now.

He’d have to deliver the items directly to them.

But of course, he couldn’t just show himself.

So he opted for a different method: a fishing rod.

‘This is peak Angelic Heavenly Demon-style, Yoo Hajin in action.’

He pulled a fishing rod from his bag—the same one he used back when he was known as “Bizarre Phenomenon Yoo Hajin.”

‘Now that I think about it… That rod was a gift from her.’

He remembered the person who taught him how to use it—his mother’s closest friend. A woman just a little unhinged, who used to toss fishing lines randomly off mountain cliffs.

‘Is she doing alright these days? Last I heard, she and her younger sister were about to murder each other…’

Shaking the thought from his head, Yoo Hajin readied the rod… and cast.

The hook snagged the blanket on the altar with perfect precision.

He gently reeled it in—floating it directly in front of the girl who looked like the group’s leader.

“Heeek—!”

Wolhyang let out another startled gasp.

The blanket was floating… in mid-air.

And yet—it had no spiritual energy.

No soul. No aura.

Nothing at all.

Just… floating.

Wolhyang was terrified.

“What… is this?”

Meanwhile, Yoo Hajin had no clue.

He just thought no one was picking up their stuff because it wasn’t “theirs.”

So, he spun the blanket around until its owner decided to collect it.

The white fabric swirled through the air like some lace-covered ghost monster.

Even among the sect disciples—experts in ghost detection—panic erupted.

“W-what the hell is THAT?!”

“It’s floating! And there’s no spirit! No energy!”

Chaos.

The disciples of the Ilwol-Oakmoon Sect screamed and bolted, scrambling to escape.

Wolhyang tried to hold them back… but then she also felt a hand suddenly grab her shoulder.

“HIEEEEK!”

And she fled too.

Of course, the hand belonged to Yoo Hajin.

Wearing a mask now, he muttered:

“...Okay, yeah, I guess that does look a little ghostly.”

But seriously? These elite ghost-seers, running away from some cheap floating blanket?

Yoo Hajin could only let out a dumbfounded chuckle.

Still, he figured he should try to explain.

So, risking exposure, he put on the mask and raised his hand to say:

“Hey, uh… I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding—”

But even she ran off before he could say more.

Why raise his hand?

Well, they were all covering their ears so tightly that no one could hear anything anyway.

And just like that, Wolhyang ran off too—abandoning her hopes of leveling up to Earthly Immortal.

Watching them go, Yoo Hajin felt a bit disappointed.

He didn’t get to return their stuff.

But weirdly enough, he found himself smiling.

‘This is kind of… fun.’

They came here in search of enlightenment. And now look at them.

It wasn’t his intention, but by fooling them, he’d made them give up and run straight back to the mortal world.

To deceive and tempt those in training.

To make them abandon their enlightenment.

Deep inside, Yoo Hajin felt something stir.

A strange sense—like if he kept doing this, some new skill might awaken.

He looked down the path where the other groups had gone.

There were still plenty of enlightenment-seekers left in this Ascension Cave.

Smiling wickedly, Yoo Hajin said:

“So this is why they call it the Ascension Cave… I might actually reach Heavenly Demon level at this rate.”

– – The End of The Chapter – –

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