How a Former Pastor Lives in Another World

1

Pastor Kim

“You must receive the spirit.”

“Excuse me?”

Are you talking nonsense?

Instead of such a rebellious retort, Kwang-oh Kim mulled over his shaman mother’s words.

“Become a male shaman (Baksu)?”

“Yes.”

“Suddenly?”

Kwang-oh’s family was a bit special.

His father was an executive at a conglomerate, and his mother, though a bit unusual, was a shaman.

It was a well-known fact among those in the know that his mother’s powerful shamanistic rituals had played a part in his father’s successful career.

With the chairman reverently addressing her as ‘Bosal’, ‘Bosal’—a respected shaman’s wife—what more could one want?

Anyway, the family’s storeroom was full, and they lived an enviable life, but there was an undeniable family trait.

“Hasn’t your spiritual eye opened already? And it’s no ordinary one.”

The entire family had mediumistic tendencies. If it were just a moderate level, they would have let him do as he wished, but according to Mrs. Park, a shaman with 50 years of experience, it was no ordinary matter.

“The deity that has chosen you is no ordinary being. And it’s not just that one. Many deities have their eyes on you.”

A typical teenager in the throes of adolescence would have shown unfiltered defiance.

My life is mine to control! No one can force me! Be it a god or whatever!

“I only see lowly spirits, though.”

But what can you do when you actually see them?

Kwang-oh’s spiritual eye had been open since he was in elementary school.

Not only did he see ghosts, but he also saw a special ‘color’ with his spiritual eye.

“The real deities are not something you can see.”

Is that so?

Kwang-oh had never seen an entity that could be typically referred to as a ‘deity’.

Though he had seen demons.

“But what kind of deity are we talking about? Not something like General MacArthur or the old lady from Shinjang-dong, right?”

When you say you serve a deity, it sounds impressive, like ‘Bow down before my divine power!’ But the problem is that this category of deity also includes ghosts.

If you’re lucky, you might be possessed by a top-tier deity like the Great Sun Buddha, Avalokitesvara, or Maitreya. Even if you’re only possessed by a general or child spirit, you can be considered in the top 5% of shamans.

MacArthur of the Incheon Landing? Would you believe that a shaman who serves such a spirit is in the top 10%? There’s a subtle demand for them in this world, as they’re quite renowned.

But most are possessed by some strange, miscellaneous spirit and end up reading fortunes on love under a colorful sign.

When you think about being tormented by a spirit for life, it’s too much to rely on sheer luck.

Of course, if you’re lucky, even a baby bodhisattva can scold politicians and CEOs and rise to the top.

“I’ve thought it over, and I still don’t want it.”

“You can’t refuse just because you want to. Don’t be reckless and invite disaster. Serve a powerful spirit.”

Kwang-oh remembered the story of his mother, who had suffered misfortune for rejecting her calling when she was young.

Now, thanks to his mother, his father had become a director in the eyes of the chairman and had also suffered all kinds of calamities.

He himself couldn’t deny it outright, as he saw too many things with his own eyes.

But still, he didn’t want it.

What’s the difference between the greedy spirits he saw and the ones coveting him?

Honestly, the memories of being pointed at and called a shaman’s son because he could see ghosts since childhood were vivid.

He couldn’t pass on such a life to his children later on.

And yet, he couldn’t just be defiant and carve out his own life, not with his mother’s precedent looming over him.

‘Living like a clapping shaman, is that any way for a person to live? To be constantly at the mercy of spirits, what’s so great about that?’

Sure, the powerful clapping shamans make good money and drive Mercedes, but only a very few can achieve that.

The calling of spirits varies too, and if you’re possessed by some bizarre, powerful spirit, you’re good for nothing.

But what if you ultimately have to accept your calling?

You can make money depending on your abilities, but being pointed at by those around you is also undesirable.

Is there anything else?

Does such a spirit even exist?

“Believe in Jesus! Believe and go to heaven!!”

“Huh.”

There is.

A spirit of the world’s largest religion, unmatched by any ordinary spirit.

And so, ten years later.

“Do you believe!”

“”We believe!!””

“If you believe, say Amen!”

“Amen…!!”

Kim Kwang-oh became a pastor.

Anointed by the Holy Spirit, he received Christ, and the evil spirits dared not approach.

Among the gods, his tier was different.

“If you evil spirits mess around, you’ll die by my hand!”

“Waaah!!”

In the heart of Seoul’s Gangnam, the prime pastor of a mega-church.

The next head pastor was none other than Pastor Kim Kwang-oh.

“Squawk!”

He died.

In a traffic accident.

Specifically, it was the doing of jealous associate pastors who envied Kwang-oh for being young and favored by the head pastor.

‘I avoided the wrath of God, but not the wrath of man.’

Who would have thought they’d run someone over with a car there?

Still, he lived an upright life, so he thought he’d probably make it to heaven, but as he closed his eyes…

‘Never thought I’d bypass heaven and go straight to reincarnation in the next life.’

He hoped to see Saint Peter’s face, to gaze upon the nail marks in Jesus’ hands, but instead, he opened his eyes in another world.

The problem was that this place was also teeming with evil spirits masquerading as gods.

So, what did our Pastor Kim do?

“Long live the sun!!”

Pastor Kim had a very flexible faith.

***

Ray Anderson.

That was the new name Kim the pastor had in this world.

Unlike the abundant life of Pastor Kim, the life of the boy named Ray Anderson was tough.

[Heehee! Play with me~]

[I’ll only eat a little. Okay? Just a little. Just a tiny piece of your soul!!]

Even here, Ray was targeted by a plethora of evil spirits.

In his past life, he had a powerful shaman for a mother.

He had the blessing of Lord Jesus Christ, who anointed with the Holy Spirit.

But now?

Gone. In this world, there is no mystical shaman or God to protect Ray Anderson.

“O mighty Soltera, protect me with your eternal light, guide me with your holy wisdom, and even if the path I walk is shrouded in darkness, lead my soul with your divine light.”

“Ra, Ray?”

“O mighty Soltera, protect me with your eternal light, guide me with your holy wisdom, and even if the path I walk is shrouded in darkness, lead my soul with your divine light.”

“Fa, Father! Something’s wrong with Ray!”

“Long live the Sunnnnn!”

“aaargh!”

Ray desperately frequented the village church.

It was the only place in the village where the evil spirits couldn’t intrude.

The Solar Sect.

The only monotheistic, dominant faction in this world.

While faiths and folk beliefs from across the continent lingered in whispers, they were but a drop in the ocean compared to the Solar Sect.

Its religious influence was that strong.

Ray spent as much time as possible in the church, creating a refuge to avoid the evil spirits.

“Heh, among the young ones these days, you have strong faith. Ray, would you not study the scriptures?”

Had the old priest noticed Ray’s desperate state of mind? Now, even a commoner like him could learn to read and study the scriptures, a true twist of fate.

But such twists don’t always mean good fortune.

“All the village elders have died. A plague that only strikes the elderly…”

“What will become of the remaining children? The priest has also succumbed to the plague.”

“Fortunately, the Sect is sending a new priest and staff. At least the children won’t be left on the streets.”

In the Middle Ages, it wasn’t rare for an entire village to be wiped out by a contagious disease.

Sanitation, medicine, nothing could compare to Earth.

‘This life, I’ve sent my parents off first.’

For the first time in his sixteen years of second life, Ray had to conduct his parents’ funeral.

He was an unfilial son who died before them at thirty-eight, but that didn’t make the funeral any less somber.

“Hoo…”

His second life’s mentor, Father Johan, also passed away in this calamity.

Soon, a new priest will come, and with support staff to raise the orphaned children, life will go on in faith.

That’s why Ray clung to the church.

This cathedral alone is a sanctuary that protects me from the malevolent spirits targeting Ray.

“Long live the sun…”

However, Ray’s peaceful second life was disrupted upon encountering the new clergy visiting the cathedral.

“You must be Brother Ray. I’m Zeon, dispatched from the Central Diocese. These fellows here will help me establish an orphanage.”

For a month, alone, he tidied up the cathedral and bathed and fed the orphans.

The visiting clergy indeed wore kind smiles befitting of priests.

But.

“Damn it.”

Beyond those smiles, the color of their souls was a sinister dark crimson.

***

Ray can see souls.

Not only is he naturally mediumistic, but his spiritual eye is special in that it can see the colors engraved on people’s souls.

Those closer to white have accumulated good karma, while those closer to black have amassed evil deeds.

Even when he was Pastor Kim, attending prayer meetings for death row inmates, none of the most heinous criminals had a color deeper than ‘red’.

In other words, the limit of human sin is up to the color red.

So what then is dark crimson?

“Evil spirits… or perhaps a sorcerer!”

The devil worshippers he saw while accompanying his mentor in faith, Pastor Park, had exactly that color.

The ‘demons’ that were barely vanquished in collaboration with the Vatican’s exorcists were black.

He had heard that this world too had demons and their contractors, but he never expected them to come to such a remote backwater.

“You can set down your luggage here. It’s regrettable that our circumstances don’t allow for better hospitality.”

“That’s alright, Brother Ray. A place to pray is all we need, isn’t it?”

Ray exchanged glances with Deacon Caron, who wore a benevolent smile.

Had he not been able to see the color of souls, Ray might have been completely deceived.

Ray continued the conversation with a mask over his face.

“By the way, brother. Did you know?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve encountered devil worshippers before. Oh, they weren’t contractors. They couldn’t use magic.”

“….Yes. That must have been quite the ordeal.”

Caron’s brow furrowed slightly. Ray sensitively picked up on the change.

“They had sneaked into the gaps between people, cleverly. Without any special information, it was impossible to extract them easily.

Even the heretic inquirers from the Vatican were involved, but their bullets were useless to the followers.

It means there was no physical way to distinguish them at first.

“So I came up with an alternative. I gathered people in the gym and told each of them to say just one word to me.”

“What…what?”

“Go ahead and be a devil, you little b*stard.”

“······!”

“Devil, little b*stard, go ahead, right now.”

“Ah, ahah…what’s with that joke?”

Ray’s tone suddenly changed, and Caaron sensed something.

He tried to understand the situation, but he was already caught.

“That uncivilized······.”

Caaron couldn’t finish his sentence.

Because something had pierced his left cheekbone, and the blood was dripping down.

The wooden skewer that had pierced his cheekbone had come out the other side.

“······?!”

He couldn’t even shout in pain, his mouth was gagged.

The blood that had flowed out of the skewer was dripping onto Ray’s white handkerchief.

“Be a devil, little b*stard.”

“This little·····!?”

The next moment, a new skewer pierced Caaron’s neck.

Thud, Caaron’s corpse fell to the ground.

Ray quietly laid Caaron’s corpse down, making sure not to make a big noise.

“Tell the devil to be a little b*stard.”

Why did you have to be a little b*stard to me.

The next moment, Ray snatched the crimson soul that had flowed out of Caaron’s corpse.