Skills Used for Human Fishing

I never expected anyone to call out to me, so I was just walking away when a voice called out once more.

“Excuse me! The ‘Mr. Jong-un’ author?”

The Uncomfortable Mr. Jong-un must have left a deep impression.

I turned around to see who it was, and it was the female student who had burst out laughing earlier.

“Yes? What’s the matter?”

I had seen the introductions, but I didn’t know exactly who she was.

Was she the one who wrote about Father Didiert and the Hawaiian pizza?

“Um, you said you read Saju, right?”

“Yes, I do.”

“How about me?”

What is she talking about?

“Pardon? You mean your Saju?”

“Uh, yes.”

“You have to tell me your Saju for me to read it. Birth year, month, day, and time. If you just ask out of the blue like that, it sounds like you want me to read your face, but I’m not very good at physiognomy.”

“Oh, r-right. But… don’t you guys just know the moment you look at someone?”

It’s not “just knowing” the moment I look, but I start wondering what kind of life she leads to be asking me for a reading.

I let my imagination run wild like a mind map.

I guess what kind of life she has based on her appearance and age, framing it like a novel as I speak.

And that usually gets about half of it right.

Then, if I mix in some Saju patterns, I can get another half of the remaining half right.

“That’s what a shaman does.”

It’s not quite a stereotype, but it’s common for women in their early twenties to be wary of strangers.

However, this Hawaiian pizza writer wasn’t like that.

I guessed she had good “Friend Luck” and a high social drive.

Earlier, I saw her laughing heartily like a hero from Romance of the Three Kingdoms.

The kind of person who doesn’t care if their face scrunches up.

At the very least, she isn’t the type to be backstabbed for being “foxy.”

She might be nagged for being a bit flighty, though. Her mom probably swats her on the back sometimes.

“Oh, you’re not a shaman?”

It’s a very common misunderstanding.

Still, I gave her a kind explanation.

“A shaman is someone who predicts a person’s destiny through divine power. A Saju practitioner is someone who infers destiny based on ancient Eastern philosophy derived from divination texts. The criteria are the year, month, day, and time of birth.”

“Aah… So I just need to tell you that birthday and stuff? I’d really like a reading.”

“Since it happens to be dinner time, if you treat me to a decent meal, I’ll give you a reading.”

“Oh, d-dinner?”

“Yes.”

“That’s, um… well…”

“I understand. Maybe I’ll see you at the next workshop.”

I cut it off quickly so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

Myeong-seung Philosophy Hall and the Jeonbuk Content Agency are at opposite ends of the city; it takes 40 minutes by bus.

It’s not like we can sit on a park bench and have a cozy Saju reading.

Shouldn’t there at least be a proper place for it?

“Well, I can do coffee?”

Coffee is best after a meal.

And I don’t usually buy cafe coffee because it’s expensive. A 1+1 deal from a convenience store is plenty for me.

“Coffee isn’t enough for a consultation fee. I only drink Americanos, so you’d have to buy me ten cups. If you want to come to the philosophy hall, come. Otherwise, I’m going to go eat. Goodbye.”

I was planning to find a place to eat alone since there were many new shops in the New City area.

But she said no to dinner.

“Ah, dinner…”

“It doesn’t look like you need to go on a ‘skip-dinner’ diet, though.”

I could tell she was on one.

To the naked eye, she looked healthy—somewhere between a standard weight and slightly thin.

But women never think that’s “just right,” and they usually have no intention of losing weight through exercise. They skip meals because it’s faster.

Not that exercise always makes the weight fall off anyway.

“Oh, how did you…”

She won’t eat dinner, but she wants coffee.

That either means she isn’t willing to pay more than the price of a coffee, or she really can’t eat dinner.

If she isn’t willing to pay more than a coffee, she’s worse than the difficult lady who wanted to deduct “water costs.”

If that’s her mindset, I’m not interested…

My skills might not be much, but the combination of Saju Fortification and Master Myeong-seung’s secrets is worth more than a single cup of coffee.

She didn’t look like she had an upset stomach, either.

I know because I’ve tried to lose weight by skipping dinner before.

I wasn’t the type to refuse if someone offered to buy me dinner, though.

This girl must be quite strict with herself.

“Do I look like I’ve gained weight?”

That’s something people only say when they’re slender.

If you’re in the early 160cm range and weigh in the early 50kg range, you have a perfectly slender and beautiful body, but too many people are obsessed with being in the 40kg range.

“It’s not that. I just said it because everyone is like that even if they don’t look fat. Your jawline is quite sharp. Anyway, I’m going to go eat nearby before I head home.”

“Can I really come to the hall?”

“Yes, come to the philosophy hall. Have you ever seen a businessman turn away a customer?”

I started searching for nearby restaurants on my phone.

I won a prize, so should I splurge on a 15,000 won plate of Chili Shrimp Rice?

Suddenly, a message rang out.

[You lightly approached and even attempted a ‘push-and-pull’ with a woman. Points are credited to your Jaeseong-un (Wealth/Women Luck).]

Excuse me? You’re calling that ‘approaching’ her?

Absurdly enough, my Saju fortification points went up.

Well, I’m not complaining that they went up…

According to the Saju Fortification program and the secrets, things you usually don’t do, things you’re bad at, and things that are still low level earn points easily once you try them.

Of course, you still earn points for things you’re good at and do every day, but since those levels are already quite high, you need a lot of experience points.

Therefore, “Women Luck” and “Wealth Luck,” which are included in Jaeseong, will naturally rise if I go around “approaching” people, so to speak.

“We barely even spoke. Good grief. This is interesting.”

I asked her to buy me dinner instead of a fee, she said she couldn’t, so I said, ‘Fine, I’m going to eat by myself,’ and walked away. That was it.

*********************************

The sad thing about being a solo diner is that you can’t join the peak dinner rush.

“Let’s just go get some Blood Sausage and Abomasum Soup.”

I’m quite a big eater and usually eat two portions, so I’m pretty shameless about eating alone, but I can’t do restaurants with a long line.

The problem was that since it was the city’s downtown area on a Friday night, there were way too many people.

I decided I should just go home and was waiting at the bus stop when I ran into a familiar face.

“Oh.”

“Ah.”

It was that girl from earlier… I forgot her name, but the one who laughed heartily, asked for a Saju reading, and was skipping dinner.

I only remembered that her title had “Father Didiert” in it.

“Um, didn’t you say you were going to eat around here?”

“My mom said she set a table so full it’s about to break, and she’ll kill me if I eat out.”

“Ah, moms.”

I had said goodbye saying I was going to eat, so meeting her again was quite awkward.

Still, I’ve started a business recently, and my Friend Luck is at Level 3.

[LV3 Friend Luck: You can become casual friends with anyone.]

I used to be extremely shy, but while running the philosophy hall and talking about Saju, I realized people are all pretty much the same.

Nowadays, I can talk without being awkward, and I live my life with plenty of flattery mixed into my words.

“How old are you?”

Does she think I’m easy because I mentioned my “mom”?

“I’m twenty-eight.”

“Really?”

Is it enough to make her pupils shake?

I don’t think I have spare points, but if I do, I should try to max out “Skin Care.”

I haven’t felt the need for it yet, but I might as well as I get older.

“Yes. And how about your yeon-bae (age)?”

The one who wrote the Father Didiert pizza thing looked aghast.

“Yeon-bae?”

“Ah, since most of the customers at the philosophy hall are elders… What is your age?”

I used the elders as an excuse, but the truth is my way of speaking had become old-fashioned as a side effect of writing martial arts novels.

Since I avoided loanwords and used traditional Hanja or even dead words, archaic speech had become a habit.

“I introduced myself earlier. Don’t you remember?”

“There were quite a few students.”

“You don’t even know my name, do you?”

“I know you wrote Father Didiert’s Hawaiian Pizza. Um…”

I think her last name was unusual.

“Is it… Ms. Ye-su-ji?”

“It’s Ye Ji-soo.”

“Your last name is pretty.”

“What about my first name?”

“It’s common.”

If I treated her like the middle-aged ladies, I could inflate her ego all I wanted.

But those ladies are people who live with husbands who tactlessly say things like, ‘Are you a drum? You’re gonna roll away.’

This young lady looks confident in her youth.

Honestly, she seems to have the beauty to back it up.

For people with grounded confidence who receive enough recognition, what they need is a brake rather than praise and encouragement.

In the meantime, the bus arrived. As I prepared to board, Ye Ji-soo jumped up too.

“This bus?”

“Are we going the same way?”

“Unless you’re going to the outskirts, it’s usually this bus.”

There were two seats on the bus, but there are always those seats people don’t sit in if someone else is there.

She looks like the type who makes her body scrawny even though she has nothing to lose by eating dinner.

She immediately took the window seat.

I just grabbed a handle and stood.

The seat next to Ye Ji-soo was soon taken by a grandmother carrying a bundle who had boarded separately.

I just looked at her, gave a slight nod, and stood on my own.

I don’t usually look at my smartphone on the bus, but Ye Ji-soo, like any other student or young person, immediately immersed herself in her phone.

This is a neighborhood that has had several city bus strikes.

Perhaps the drivers’ welfare still isn’t handled properly, because their driving is filled with pent-up resentment and latent violence, making it quite hardcore to ride standing up.

Actually, I hadn’t adjusted to my legs yet.

I didn’t feel the stability I had when I was 6cm shorter and smaller.

Why is this city bus being operated like an amusement park ride?

Of course, I don’t need that kind of stability—I’m tall now, so long live Saju Fortification.

About four stops later, a few pairs of seats in the back became empty. Ye Ji-soo suddenly looked at me and tapped the seat.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

She seemed to be telling me to sit, so I went and sat down.

As soon as I did, she spoke up, as if she couldn’t contain her curiosity.

“Can you really not read Saju just like that?”

“Have you never had a reading?”

“No. It’s just… I heard someone can see it just by putting in a birthday.”

Destiny data does come out just by putting in a birthday.

It’s just that it’s Sam-ju Yuk-ja (Three Pillars, Six Characters) instead of Sa-ju Pal-ja (Four Pillars, Eight Characters).

And apparently, whatever she got from just putting in her birthday wasn’t very good.

“If you know your birth time, I can just put it into a Saju calendar and pull it up. I’m sure you know your birthday.”

“I don’t really know the time.”

“Does your mother go to church?”

“Pardon? How did you…”

Women are the primary customers of Saju and divination; it’s rare for them to not know their birth time once they’ve passed high school.

For men, the most common answers are ‘I just don’t know’ or ‘Why do I need to know?’

In the case of women, if they say they don’t know, there’s a bit of ‘just don’t know,’ but since you aren’t born knowing your own birth time, you have to look at the parents’ tendencies.

When parents don’t tell their children their birth time, a representative group is those who ‘don’t value it based on religious beliefs’ or ‘specifically don’t tell based on those beliefs.’

Of course, not all Christians are like that, so it’s a generalization, but if a woman says she doesn’t know, about 30–40% of the time, the parents are believers.

The rest include: they just didn’t tell (no interest in Saju); there’s no mother or they aren’t close due to divorce; the mother really doesn’t remember because she gave birth without a chance to care about such things; or the mother told her but she forgot.

And even among the ‘mother doesn’t know,’ ‘she forgot,’ or ‘not close’ groups, the ratio of mothers who are Christian exists, so if I guess this way, I’m right more than half the time.

“Still, she’ll know, and she’ll tell you. If you’re a daughter gifted in mun-ri (literary logic) attending a prestigious university, you won’t have a bad relationship with your mom, so just ask her quickly.”

“Mun-ri? Your way of speaking is too much like an adult.”

Is mun-ri (literary logic/reasoning) that strange?

It’s a word I used when my scholar-type protagonist would tsk-tsk at guys who were going to be warriors and tell them to study a bit.

“I am an adult.”

“You give off a hal-jae (grandpa) vibe. Not even an a-jae (uncle).”

I’m not even a regressor, yet I’m being treated like this.

“Well, people my age don’t use words like that.”

“Anyway, let me ask about the time.”

Look at her pressing that smartphone screen with her thumb. It’s light-speed.

While I was contemplating my choice of words, Ye Ji-soo, who had exchanged a few messages, finally seemed to have found out her time.

“I told her you guessed she goes to church and told her she shouldn’t be looking at such things, but she told me anyway.”

“Then please tell me your birth year, month, day, and time.”

“I am…”

She’s twenty-one.

Her Saju is on the easy side.

A typical “Self-Righteous King” Saju—someone who only listens to what they want to hear.

However, she likely has life achievements to back up that self-righteous pride.

I’m pretty self-righteous myself, so to make someone with such a strong Saju accept a reading, I need to use some technique.

“Oh, no way…”

“Wh-what? Is there a problem?”

“You’ve heard somewhere that you have the destiny to become something like a shaman, right?”

“H-huh? Yes.”

Even without the time, one could see a Gwimun-gwan-sal (Ghost Gate) in her Sam-ju Yuk-ja, so someone must have blurted out that she had a shaman’s destiny.

It’s a mistake I often made when I was just learning from books in the military.

Since there was no physical abuse in my unit, I only got cursed at, but I did get called into a “gathering” for it.

‘You told Sergeant ~ that he has a shaman’s destiny? This little private must be out of his mind, right?’

Ugh, the trauma.

But right before that sergeant was discharged, he asked me for one more reading and told me all about how he actually saw ghosts and weird things.

“Is that written there? Is it really true?”

Ye Ji-soo asked urgently, but just then, the bus announcement came on.

<The next stop is Jungang Market, in front of Jungang Market.>

“Oh, I have to get off. Goodbye.”

“Pardon? You’re getting off?”

I usually have to go three more stops, but I’m getting off to eat the abomasum soup nearby.

It felt like I used a “cliffhanger skill,” but it was intentional.

“Don’t worry too much about that shaman stuff. It’s fine. Well then, excuse me.”

Still, worrying she might have bad dreams after hearing something ominous, I left a word of comfort like a spoiler and pushed myself up from the seat.

But I couldn’t get off.

My sleeve was caught.

Ye Ji-soo suddenly grabbed me, her lips trembling as if she were embarrassed.

“C-can’t you stay on?”

What are you talking about?