Jina and Minho walked back to the village in silence, their footsteps crunching softly on the forest floor. Though the night was calm, the sense of foreboding had not left Jina. The events at the temple were supposed to bring closure, but instead, they had opened a door to even more questions.

Minho noticed her tense shoulders and gave her a reassuring glance. “We’re out of the forest now,” he said, his voice warm. “Let’s get some rest and figure out our next steps tomorrow.”

Jina nodded but didn’t reply. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of fear, doubt, and curiosity. As much as she wanted to believe the spirit was gone, she couldn’t ignore the whispers they had heard as they left the temple ruins. Something was still wrong.

When they reached Jina’s grandmother’s house, Minho hesitated at the gate. “I’ll stay here for a while,” he offered. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

Jina appreciated his concern but didn’t want to drag him further into her nightmare. “You’ve done enough, Minho,” she said softly. “I’ll be okay.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “Alright. If anything happens, call me.”

With that, he left, disappearing into the quiet streets of the village.

---

Minho lived in a small house on the other side of the village, closer to the mountains. His parents had lived there for years, running a modest pottery business. After graduating from high school, Minho had moved to Seoul to study architecture, a dream he had nurtured since childhood. But life in the city wasn’t what he had imagined.

The pressure of academics, financial struggles, and the weight of being away from his family took its toll on him. After two years, he dropped out and returned to the village, feeling like a failure. His parents welcomed him back with open arms, but Minho couldn’t shake the shame of not living up to their expectations.

Now, he spent his days helping his parents with the pottery shop, designing simple pieces with intricate patterns. Though he loved working with his hands, a part of him always wondered if he had given up on his dreams too soon.

That night, as Minho sat in his small bedroom, he couldn’t stop thinking about Jina and the strange events surrounding her return to the village. The fear in her eyes, the eerie silence of the forest, and the glowing symbols on the altar—they were like pieces of a puzzle he couldn’t yet solve.

Minho wasn’t the type to believe in ghosts or curses, but what he had witnessed with Jina was undeniable. Something dark was lurking in their village, and it seemed to have chosen Jina as its target.

---

The next morning, Jina woke up to a strange sensation. It felt as though the air in her grandmother’s house was heavier, almost suffocating. She sat up in bed, her heart racing. The box was still on the table where she had left it, but something about it seemed... different.

Hesitantly, she walked over and opened the lid. The lock of hair, the amulet, and the parchment were all there, but the parchment now had new markings on it—symbols that hadn’t been there the night before.

Jina’s hands trembled as she traced the markings with her fingers. They looked like an ancient script, similar to what she had seen on the altar. But what did they mean? Was it a warning? A message?

Before she could think too much about it, there was a knock at the door. Startled, Jina quickly closed the box and went to answer it. Minho stood on the other side, holding a basket of fresh bread and fruits.

“I figured you might not have eaten,” he said with a small smile.

Jina managed a weak smile in return. “Thanks. Come in.”

As Minho stepped inside, his gaze immediately fell on the box. “Have you noticed anything strange about it?” he asked.

Jina nodded, her expression serious. “There are new markings on the parchment. They weren’t there before.”

Minho’s brow furrowed as he walked over to the table and opened the box. He studied the parchment for a moment before looking at Jina. “These symbols—they look like some kind of map.”

“A map?” Jina asked, confused.

Minho nodded, pointing to a series of lines and shapes on the parchment. “See these? They resemble the layout of the village. And this spot here—it looks like the well.”

Jina’s stomach churned. “Are you saying this is leading us back to the well?”

“It’s possible,” Minho said. “But there’s more here. Look.”

He pointed to another part of the parchment, where a spiral symbol was drawn. It didn’t resemble anything Jina recognized, but it gave her an uneasy feeling.

“We need to figure out what this means,” Minho said, his voice steady. “The shaman might know.”

---

Later that day, they returned to the shaman’s house. The old man greeted them with the same stern expression as before, his sharp eyes narrowing as he examined the parchment.

“This is a map,” he confirmed, his voice grave. “And the spiral symbol—it represents a gateway. A portal between worlds.”

Jina’s heart sank. “What does that mean for us?”

The shaman sighed, placing the parchment on the table. “The well is not just a doorway to the spirit world. It’s a conduit, a place where the barrier between the living and the dead is weakest. The woman you encountered was only one of many spirits tied to it. This map indicates that the well is becoming unstable. If the gateway fully opens, it could unleash something far worse.”

Minho’s jaw tightened. “What do we need to do?”

The shaman hesitated before replying. “You must seal the well completely. But to do that, you’ll need to find the source of the curse—the spirit who first bound the well. Only by confronting and defeating that spirit can the gateway be closed.”

Jina felt a wave of despair. The spirit who first bound the well? How were they supposed to find it, let alone defeat it?

---

That night, Jina and Minho sat in her grandmother’s living room, pouring over the map on the parchment. The markings seemed to point to a location deep within the forest, beyond the temple ruins.

“We’ll go tomorrow,” Minho said, his tone firm. “We’ll follow the map and find the source of the curse. Together.”

Jina looked at him, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Minho. I don’t think I could do this without you.”

Minho smiled, a flicker of warmth breaking through the tension. “You’re stronger than you think, Jina. But I’m not going anywhere.”

As the hours passed, they prepared for the journey ahead, gathering supplies and mapping out their route. The fear of what lay ahead weighed heavily on them, but they knew they couldn’t back down now.

By the time dawn broke, they were ready. With the box in hand and the map as their guide, they set off into the forest once more, determined to uncover the truth behind the Echoes of the Haunted.