So this Remmerink was the one who had cheated with Gennaro's mother in the pigsty. Does that mean he was the one who led us to Gennaro's house to cause trouble?
Since Remmerink was hacked to death by Gennaro's father, this ghost clearly wanted revenge. But Gennaro's father had already paid with his life - shouldn't that be enough? Why would Remmerink need to hurt Gennaro too?
The breakfast stand owner turned out to be quite the chatterbox. Once he started talking, he couldn't stop, not caring that we were outsiders as he asked why we were inquiring about Remmerink.
He said Remmerink's case might have been unjust - he knew Remmerink best and was certain of his character. According to him, Remmerink wouldn't have done such a thing.
Stein scoffed, asking how someone could be innocent when they were caught having an affair in a pigsty.
The owner sighed, admitting he couldn't guarantee anything, but insisted Remmerink had been an upright man who valued his reputation. Sleeping with another man's wife didn't fit his character. Besides, he added, who would choose a stinking pigsty for such affairs, especially in broad daylight? Only someone with a hole in their head would do that.
The owner made a fair point. If someone really wanted to cheat, why pick the foulest place possible? Could there have been some misunderstanding?
Damn. If this was indeed a misunderstanding, the consequences had been catastrophic - three lives lost. Gennaro's mother and Remmerink were hacked to death on the spot, while Gennaro's father was executed by firing squad.
The owner continued, explaining that Gennaro's father had been a heavy drinker who beat his wife when drunk and was extremely jealous. Just seeing his wife talking to another man would send him into a violent rage. "That kind of wife-beating trash doesn't deserve to be called a man," he remarked.
He speculated that Gennaro's father must have been drunk that day when he saw Remmerink with his wife in the pigsty. In his intoxicated rage, he probably killed them both on the spot.
While the owner's theory made sense, Stein questioned why Remmerink would have been in the pigsty with the man's wife in the first place.
"That's simple," the owner explained. "Gennaro's family sold pigs. If Remmerink wanted to buy one, naturally he'd need to go in with someone to inspect which pigs were good, right?"
That did make sense. If this really was a misunderstanding, then Remmerink's death had been a terrible injustice - and even worse, his innocent wife and child had died because of it too.
Now I understood. Gennaro's father hadn't just killed Remmerink - he'd indirectly caused the deaths of Remmerink's wife and child too. No wonder Remmerink's ghost had led us to Gennaro's house and tried to kill Gennaro, the son of his murderer.
The more I thought about it, the creepier it became. Who would have guessed ghosts were involved in this cycle of revenge? The twists and turns were unbelievable, and the strangest part was how the three of us had somehow ended up in that graveyard without realizing it.
After breakfast, we quickly left the village and hitchhiked back to the city.
The next morning found me in a foul mood. Not only had I failed to earn the 20,000, but I'd also lost over 2,000 of my own money. Dealing with that kind of client must have been punishment for sins committed in eight past lifetimes.
What kind of murderer gets a tattoo anyway? Wasting my time and money - that motherfucker.
Never again. Next time a customer comes for a tattoo, I'll investigate their background thoroughly before agreeing to anything.
Just then, a man walked into the shop. Completely bald on top with just a ring of hair remaining - classic male pattern baldness - though he couldn't have been more than twenty-five years old.
I almost laughed. Going bald so young? Must be a programmer.
When I asked his business, he explained he'd come for a Gods and Ghosts tattoo on a friend's recommendation, having heard they could exorcise spirits and ward off evil.
Hearing this, I invited him in while Stein poured tea. We asked what brought him here.
"My name's Markus," he said. "Twenty-five, work at a supermarket. Something... something strange has been happening. You might not believe me, but... I've been seeing a ghost!"
Stein and I exchanged glances, barely suppressing our laughter. After what we'd been through, ghosts were the least surprising thing we could imagine. There wasn't much in this world we couldn't accept at this point.
We let Markus continue his story uninterrupted.
"Every night," Markus explained, "a bald woman comes in asking which aisle has the combs. She wears all red - coat, pants, even embroidered shoes. Her face is caked with thick makeup, like flour."
At first Markus found it amusing - why would a bald woman need a comb? Then he figured she might be buying it for someone else.
Patiently, Markus directed her to the fourth aisle across from the registers. The woman thanked him and... disappeared.
Puzzled, Markus checked the comb aisle but found no one there. Had he given unclear directions?
Though strange, he soon forgot about it.
Until the next night, when the same bald woman returned with the same question.
Markus frowned, feeling extremely unsettled. Was this woman mentally ill? Not only was a bald person buying a comb strange enough, but she kept asking the same question repeatedly. Last time he'd told her, she'd simply vanished.
Though cursing internally, Markus maintained his customer service demeanor. Even if she asked a hundred times, he'd have to answer.
Once again, Markus patiently explained where the combs were located. The bald woman thanked him and - in the blink of an eye - disappeared again. The comb shelf remained empty.
Markus grew irritated. Why keep asking if she wasn't going to buy anything? Was this some kind of sick joke? And her vanishing act was downright unnatural - almost ghostlike.
On the third night, the bald woman returned as usual, repeating her question about the combs' location.
Markus had reached his limit but kept his temper in check. He told the woman to wait while he personally fetched several combs for her to choose from.
The bald woman gave a faint smile but didn't select any. Instead, she asked again: "Where are the combs?"
Even the most patient person would lose their cool at this point. This wasn't shopping - it was pure harassment.
Enough was enough!
Markus rolled his eyes. "What's wrong with you? Are you here to buy combs or cause trouble? I've told you multiple times. Why do you keep coming back every day?"
The bald woman remained eerily calm despite Markus's outburst. "I just want to know where the comb is," she repeated emotionlessly.
Realizing he was dealing with a psychopath, Markus turned to call security - only to find the woman had vanished into thin air.
Just then, a coworker passed by. "Why have you been muttering to yourself?" he asked Markus.
Markus froze, then snapped, "Are you blind? Didn't you see the bald woman standing here? Red dress, red pants, embroidered shoes?"
The coworker said nothing, just stared at Markus with growing concern, making Markus feel increasingly uneasy.
Something was definitely wrong here. Was he...possessed?