The Shaman Desires Transcendence

---

Someone’s ordinary day can turn into someone else’s worst day.

The man deeply felt this truth in his bones.

“Hey, you damn cockroach! With all these delinquents around, can I actually eat?!”

“Damn, these bastards are making me deal with their debt problems….”

Being a loan shark might yield high returns, but it’s a profession packed with danger. Many see it as easy money, with interest rates at 30%, but lending money is hell for lenders—they go through hell as well.

Chronic debtors.

Among loan sharks, they are often called punks or shameless lowlifes.

Those who take out loans are, of course, the ones who can’t get money from banks or those who’ve borrowed all they can but still need cash.

We’re talking about people who have no place left to fall.

Sure, some pay back their loans diligently, but many, feeling like life is already hell, just think, “Screw it!” It’s common for them to harm themselves, run away to foreign lands, or just find a hole to hide in.

Among them, the truly vile ones act as if they have iron plates for faces. They know that when they die, their debts will go unpaid, but they crazily insist that they need to make themselves likable to those who will lend again.

What’s more frustrating is that, from the loan shark’s perspective, that isn’t far from the truth.

If they think they can’t repay, they’d sell themselves off somewhere, but some have the ability to pay. Their audacity makes one want to genuinely lose it. Yet, every time they think that, they catch the atmosphere perfectly.

They are masters of push-pull, as if they used to excel in romance.

“I’d rather be doing that with a girl than dealing with loan sharks!”

The man continued to curse as he crept into a dim alley.

“Ugh, damn this job. Why don’t those thugs smoke….”

He didn’t intend to do anything that would attract attention.

He simply wanted to step out of the building for a smoke in this damp, cockroach-infested alley.

“There’s plenty of cash around, can’t they at least set up a smoking area? Damn it….”

A ridiculous collaboration born from a loan shark company that lacks empathy and a smoking environment that doesn’t exist. But what can you do? The boss doesn’t smoke, and the almighty money god up top has no intention of spending on welfare.

The man sighed, dragging his slippers along. He rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a crumpled cigarette pack.

“Damn it, all I’ve got is this….”

He sighed again.

But hey, at least he had a smoke.

He’d usually prefer to light up a whole pack but could only settle for one this time around.

“These cigarette prices have been outrageous lately.”

Huff.

With each drag, he felt a sense of calm wash over his fatigued body.

“Maybe money will come out of nowhere. A lottery…No, I’d take anything that gives me cash.”

But if money came that easily, would he be living like this?

“Damn this miserable life.”

Miserable.

A fucking miserable life.

A life of defeat.

A life on the sidelines.

As he took a deep breath, he watched the length of his cigarette visibly shrink, resonating with his own existence.

Life that only consumes without expanding.

A life where, no matter how hard he tries or struggles, sunshine feels distant.

Whether it’s coin games, sports betting, or buying lottery tickets, no matter his hustle, he could never gather enough cash.

The salary that trickled in was quickly spent on drinks with the bros or burnt up as he had to flex in front of the younger guys, and every time he stared at his dwindling bank account, he felt the pressure mounting while his chances at sudden fortune slipped through his fingers.

He didn’t even wish for the top lottery prize. He’d be thrilled just to hit second place, but even fourth has never come his way. Following advice from supposed betting experts online only led him astray; the anger bubbled up, but the thought of getting sued held him back.

While coins that used to go up plummeted the moment he bought in, his foray into stocks left him dizzy with unfamiliar terms, making him drop that idea entirely.

Yeah.

He was just another ordinary person hoping for a sudden fortune in this society.

The only unusual thing about him was that he dabbled in loan sharking, albeit at the bottom level.

“It seems like the higher-ups are getting good intel, fattening their bellies, but when will I ever catch a break….”

The man tossed the burnt-out stub onto the ground and stood up. He then headed to a nearby convenience store to buy some smokes and intended to head back.

“Do you want to be successful?”

He jumped.

If he hadn’t heard that voice behind him, he would definitely just keep walking.

Startled by the voice that sounded as if it came from a pit leading to hell, he turned around.

“Ah! Damn it!”

And the moment he turned around, he nearly fainted, landing on his butt.

It was no surprise; what stood behind him didn’t look human at all—it was a monster.

A hunchback, entirely dressed in black armor, as if preparing to head out to a battlefield. His back was so hunched that it resembled a camel’s hump, and the black sheen felt disgustingly akin to the eggs of some insect.

The hands exposed beneath the armor looked diseased, ornate with patches of white and gray, reminiscent of a mannequin, and the ragged tatters strung across his body made it feel like a monster was trying to mimic a human.

But the most terrifying thing of all was its face.

The black mask evoked images of repulsive insects, resembling a gigantic bug.

Honestly, if this monster hadn’t spoken to the man, he would have genuinely thought a monster had appeared.

“Ah-hem, success. You want success, right?”

The monster made a bizarre breathing sound, like someone wearing a gas mask. Its speech was choppy, almost as if breathing was a struggle; the voice echoed oddly as if spoken by a machine imitating a person.

But perhaps it was this bizarre nature that drew him in.

The man thought that the person before him was anything but ordinary.

A demon.

No, perhaps something akin to a demon.

“You want… No, I want it.”

Thud.

Thud.

The monster approached the man, whose expression seemed to be a mix of dazed curiosity.

With footsteps that sounded suspiciously light for such a bulky form.

“Damn, it’s like a bug.”

The man thought of the quietly crawling bugs he occasionally saw on the floor.

And with that thought, he felt goosebumps rise all over his arms and body.

“You are a lucky one.”

The monster looked at the man’s face, displaying a mixture of fear and anticipation.

“The great magic. Your fortune and, ah-hem. Your desire caught my eye. Ah, yes….”

As the monster said this, it grabbed a handful of the man’s hair and ripped out a chunk.

Crunch!

“Ah! What the hell are you doing?!”

The man winced as tears sprang to his eyes from the sudden pain, glaring at the monster, but soon he was overwhelmed by the creature’s terrifying mask and uncanny aura, forcing him to avert his gaze.

“You are lucky. And, and, heh-heh. Your luck will improve.”

Fwoosh.

Flames ignited from the monster’s hand. Small flames appeared as if a dying ember clung to life, fluttering in the wind, beginning to scorch the clump of hair it held, releasing a nauseating smell as the man’s dyed hair turned to ash.

The monster scooped some of the ash and dabbed it on the man’s abdomen, poking him softly.

“Ugh!”

Suddenly, a black spot embedded itself in the man’s abdomen like a tattoo. It spread swiftly, turning into a bumpy circular shape before fading slowly into his skin.

“What, what is this?”

Magic.

Proper, true magic.

The man realized that the figure before him was indeed a shaman.

Regarded as remarkable among capable individuals but simultaneously treated as something special.

He instinctively felt that he was on the verge of acquiring the fortune he had yearned for all along.

This encounter with the shaman would, by instinct, be a turning point that could completely transform his life.

Hence, the man’s demeanor shifted to one of utmost respect.

“You said my luck will improve. Then, is this the magic for enhancing luck?”

The monster chuckled as it saw the man’s face brimming with hope instead of fear.

“Hehe. Seeing is believing. You’ve got to experience it firsthand.”

The bug-like face.

Eyes akin to glass beads.

Skin that looked like plaster, visible through the slits of the mask.

“Thank you very much!”

But now, that image no longer frightened him.

The man smiled broadly as he thanked the creature, bowing his head repeatedly, and the monster spoke again.

“Feel the power of the great magic. I shall remain here for a while. Come back if you need more luck.”

But next time, I will require a slight cost—

The monster said and faded into the alleyway.

---