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Summary
Sangwon shifted on his seat, suddenly growing antsy. This man looked high profile and he certainly wasn’t his usual clientele that consisted of office workers, middle aged aunties, and naive college students fresh out of high school. He looked him up and down again and noticed the man was wearing an expensive watch.
Certainly not the usual clientele.
Sangwon put on his sweetest smile, “that’s what the sign says.” He pointed to the sign that had seen better days and then folded his hands on his lap. “Have a seat please, the spirits are kind but they don’t like hesitation.” He gestured to the pillow on the floor.
Or
Sangwon is a shaman. Well–a fake shaman to be precise.