Festival Desa Jisan berlanjut sepanjang malam. Orang-orang luar dipersilakan tidur di rumah warga mana pun yang pintunya terbuka lebar, menikmati arak dan daging gratis hingga pagi. Pada akhirnya, cukup banyak yang memilih bertahan ketimbang langsung pulang. "Oh, katanya bakal ada acara besar di hari terakhir. Semacam... ritual, kurasa?" "Maksudnya gimana?" "Entahlah. Tapi mau kurekam buat kuunggah ke Shorts." Orang-orang luar itu bergumam santai, ada yang begadang semalaman, ada pula yang tumbang mabuk di sembarang ruangan. Lalu, saat matahari bersinar terik di hari terakhir. [Keberuntungan Jisan telah tiba~] Akhirnya, ritual pun dimulai. Kelompok musik tradisional menabuh genderang mereka bertalu-talu, sementara warga desa berbaris di kedua sisi membentuk jalan, menciptakan lorong yang panjang. Dari rumah beratap genting. Hingga ke kuil desa. Dan dari rumah beratap genting di bagian tengah, tepat di pangkal jalan tersebut, sesuatu akhirnya muncul. [WahaiYangTerpilihturunkanlahberkatJisanataspuncak-puncakyangtakterhitung] Itu adalah sebuah tandu manusia berukuran raksasa. Empat orang dengan bulu ayam jantan tersemat di dada dan kepala berkerudung kain polos, menggotong seseorang di atasnya. "Hei, lihat, ini beneran." Orang-orang luar mengobrol santai, hanya tertarik pada tontonannya, tetapi di antara mereka ada yang matanya berkilat, mengamati secara diam-diam. Asisten Manajer Eun Haje. Sosok yang dipanggil dengan sebutan itu oleh Kim Soleum mengamati orang di atas tandu serta pergerakan para penduduk desa. Melihat situasinya, tampaknya tugas yang ia emban atas nama tim proyek bakal berjalan lancar. Pandangannya yang tajam beralih ke pinggiran desa. Menatap sumur di tepi desa yang dikelilingi rumah-rumah terbengkalai. Itulah target dari misinya. Para agen dari Biro Penanggulangan Bencana masih belum memahami alasan warga desa membiarkan mereka di dekat sumur itu, atau mengapa tempat tersebut terbilang aman. Mereka bahkan sempat memeriksanya di luar musim festival, hanya untuk mendapati bahwa tempat itu sekadar sumur biasa yang tersumbat. Namun 'Reporter' ini tahu persis alasannya, sekaligus apa yang harus diselidiki. Sumur itu dulunya merupakan jalur penghubung ke tempat lain. Dan selama festival ganjil ini berlangsung, seluruh desa berubah menjadi zona Kegelapan tingkat tinggi, dan terkadang, jalur itu akan kembali aktif. Maka ia harus melanjutkan penyelidikannya sekarang. Setelah melirik sekilas ke arah Kim Soleum yang duduk di atas tandu manusia, Reporter itu mulai bergerak diam-diam. Bukan menuju sumur di antara rumah-rumah kosong, melainkan ke arah lain. [WahaiYangTerpilihturunkanlahberkatJisanataspuncak-puncakyangtakterhitung] Sementara itu, arak-arakan tandu terus melangkah maju. Kelompok musik tradisional membuka jalan, dan saat tandu melintas, para warga membungkuk penuh takzim. Sebagian berjalan terhuyung-huyung mengikutinya dengan kepatuhan yang membabi buta. Namun mereka selalu menjaga jarak tertentu, seolah-olah dilarang mendekat. Masalahnya, ada orang-orang yang tidak peduli pada aturan tersebut. "Wah! Lihat, ini pertama kalinya setelah puluhan tahun mereka mengadakan acara ini!" Beberapa orang luar, sambil mengangkat ponsel pintar mereka, langsung merangsek mendekat. Mereka yang mabuk atau sudah hilang akal sehat tidak menjaga jarak, bahkan ada yang menepuk-nepuk warga berkerudung kain yang menggotong tandu. Orang-orang ini hanya datang demi makan dan minum gratis di festival desa. Namun para warga tidak menghentikan mereka. Mereka hanya memandang dengan wajah tersenyum, mata mereka terpaku cemas demi memastikan tandu itu lewat dengan selamat. "Ooh, lumayan juga buat festival pelosok." "Mereka profesional banget. Benar-benar niat." Warga desa tidak merasa tersinggung. Mereka hanya mengawasi dengan tatapan bersungguh-sungguh untuk memastikan tandu itu tiba di tujuannya tanpa celaka. Akhirnya, tandu manusia itu tiba di kuil desa tanpa kendala dan berhenti. Orang-orang yang memikulnya menurunkan sang 'pemenang undian' dari bahu mereka secara hati-hati. Dua orang di antaranya melangkah mendekati kuil. Kemudian, mereka memotong tali emas yang melilit kuil. Tali emas itu jatuh ke tanah. Dua orang lainnya melepaskan ikatan tali emas di kaki sosok yang menaiki tandu, lalu menggantungkannya kembali di kuil. Pintu kuil pun terbuka. "Pintunya terbuka! Wah! Lihat itu! Emas!" Patung ayam emas yang menjadi 'hadiah utama' disemayamkan di dalam kuil desa. Dan ukurannya sungguh luar biasa besar. "Tapi jangan-jangan itu cuma sepuhan emas?" Patung itu bertengger di atas alas kayu bundar, tepat di bagian tengah kuil tempat altar semestinya berada. Ukurannya benar-benar setara dengan tubuh manusia. Selain rasa takjub, keserakahan berkilat di mata orang-orang luar. Sebagian besar dari mereka nyaris tak menyadari bahwa di balik emas itu, pilar asli kuil telah ditancapkan terbalik, persis seperti bilah bambu di dalam kotak undian. [WahaiYangTerpilihturunkanlahberkatJisanataspuncak-puncakyangtakterhitung] Sosok yang menaiki tandu akhirnya bergerak. Saat sosok berjubah putih itu berdiri di depan kuil, para warga melangkah maju satu demi satu, menempelkan lembaran kertas ke sekujur jubah putih tersebut. Kertas-kertas itu dipenuhi tulisan rapat dalam aksara Hangul dan Hanja. Semua itu adalah nama-nama penduduk desa. Lalu, setelah bersujud tiga kali, mereka menuangkan sebotol arak ke atasnya. Saat arak suci itu membasahi jubah, tinta pada kertas-kertas mulai luntur dan tulisan-tulisannya memudar, seakan meresap masuk ke dalam jubah itu sendiri. "SemogakamidibebaskandarikebenaranduniaWahaiperuntunganJisanWahaiYangTerpilih." "SemogakamidibebaskandarikebenaranduniaWahaiperuntunganJisanWahaiYangTerpilih." "SemogakamidibebaskandarikebenaranduniaWahaiperuntunganJisanWahaiYangTerpilih." Warga desa bersujud, berdoa, dan menangis tersedu-sedu, mengangkat tangan sambil meratap ke langit, menumpahkan ketakutan serta keputusasaan mendalam yang telah lama terpendam.
Bab 458
Jisan Village’s festival continued all night. Outsiders could sleep in any of the completely open village homes, enjoying free drinks and meat until morning. In the end, quite a few chose to stay rather than leave. “Oh, there’s supposed to be some big event on the last day. Like… some kind of ritual, I guess?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Dunno. But I’m gonna film it and post them as Shorts.” The outsiders muttered idly, either staying up through the night or falling asleep drunk in any random room. And then, with the sun beating down brightly on the last day. [The fortune of Jisan arrives~] At last, the ritual began. The traditional band pounded their drums, and the villagers lined up on either side as if forming a path, creating a long corridor. From the tile-roofed house. To the village shrine. And from the central tile-roofed house, at the start of this road, something finally emerged. [OChosenOnedeliveruntoustheblessingofJisanofthecountlesspeaks] It was a massive human palanquin. Four people, rooster feathers pinned to their chests and their heads covered with plain cloth, carried someone upon it. “Hey, hey, this is for real.” The outsiders chatted idly, only interested in the spectacle, but among them were those whose eyes glimmered, watching in secret. Assistant Manager Eun Haje. The one who had been called that by Kim Soleum observed the person atop the palanquin and the movements of the villagers. At this rate, it looked like her task here on behalf of the project team would proceed smoothly. Her sharp gaze turned to the outskirts. Toward the well on the edge of the village, surrounded by abandoned houses. That was the objective of her assignment. The agents of the Disaster Management Bureau still hadn’t figured out exactly why the villagers left them alone near the well, or why it was relatively safe there. They’d even checked it when it wasn’t festival season, only to find it just an ordinary blocked well. But this ‘reporter’ knew the exact reason, and what needed to be investigated. That well had once been a passageway, connected to somewhere else. And during this strange festival, the entire village itself became a high-level zone of Darkness, and sometimes, the passage would come alive again. So she had to proceed with the investigation now. After glancing once at Kim Soleum who was riding atop the human palanquin, the reporter quietly began to move. Not toward the well between the abandoned houses, but in another direction. [OChosenOnedeliveruntoustheblessingofJisanofthecountlesspeaks] Meanwhile, the palanquin procession continued on. The traditional band opened the way, and as the palanquin passed, villagers bowed in reverence. Some staggered after it with feverish devotion. But they always kept a certain distance, as if coming closer was not permitted. The problem was, there were some for whom that rule didn’t matter. “Wow! Look, this is the first time in decades they’ve held this event!” A few outsiders, holding up their smartphones, came right up close. Those who were drunk or had lost their judgment didn’t keep their distance, some even tapping the head-shrouded villagers carrying the palanquin. These people had only come for the free food and drink at the village festival. But the villagers didn’t stop them. They only watched with smiling faces, eyes fixed anxiously on the safe progress of the palanquin. “Ooh, not bad for a countryside festival.” “They’re pros. Total pros.” The villagers didn’t get upset. They simply watched with earnest eyes to make sure the palanquin reached its destination unharmed. Finally, the human palanquin reached the village shrine without incident and stopped. Those who’d been carrying it carefully lowered the ‘raffle winner’ they’d been bearing on their shoulders. Two of them approached the shrine. Then, they cut the golden rope around the shrine. The golden rope fell to the ground. The two remaining people untied the golden rope around the feet of the one who’d ridden the palanquin, and hung it up again at the shrine. Then, the doors of the shrine were opened. “The doors are opening! Wow! Look at that! Gold!” The golden rooster statue that had been the ‘special prize’ was enshrined inside the village shrine. And its size was enormous. “Isn’t that just gold-plated though?” It sat atop a round wooden pedestal, right in the center of the shrine where the altar should have been. It was, quite literally, the size of a person. Apart from awe, greed sparkled in the outsiders’ eyes. Most of them hardly noticed that behind the gold, the shrine’s original pole had been stuck upside down, just like the sticks in the lottery box. [OChosenOnedeliveruntoustheblessingofJisanofthecountlesspeaks] The one who had ridden atop the palanquin finally moved. As the figure in white stood in front of the shrine, the villagers stepped forward one by one, covering the white robe with pieces of paper. The papers were densely inscribed with writing in both Hangul and Hanja. They were the villagers’ names. And then, after three deep bows, they poured out a bottle of liquor over the top. As the sacred liquor washed over it, the ink on the papers began to run and the writing disappeared, seeming to seep into the robe itself. “MaywebefreedfromthetruthoftheworldOfortuneofJisanOChosenOne.” “MaywebefreedfromthetruthoftheworldOfortuneofJisanOChosenOne.” “MaywebefreedfromthetruthoftheworldOfortuneofJisanOChosenOne.” The villagers bowed, prayed, wept, raising their hands and crying out to the sky, pouring out old, deep terror and desperation.
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