“Minsu! No, Contestant Number One! How many times do I have to tell you not to flex your muscles like that? This is supposed to be the ‘reminiscing about lost love’ segment!”

I tightened my grip on the gimbal and shouted.

In the corner of the shrine, Minsu stopped pretending to bench-press and reluctantly put down his imaginary dumbbells.

“But, Shaman noona... Lady Mija said, ‘My husband in my previous life was a most gallant man.’ I was only trying to show that I’m even more gallant than that husband...”

“Ugh. The viewers don’t care about your muscles. They care about the tears hidden behind them! Alright, take it again. When Lady Mija starts talking about your past life, close your eyes dramatically and remember the weight of that dumbbell that crushed you during squats. Got it?”

I checked the livestream.

The viewer count had already climbed past five hundred.

[Anonymous1]: LOL this shaman lady has serious producer energy.

[Anonymous2]: Poor gym-bro ghost. Even death couldn’t save him from personal training.

[Anonymous3]: Mija’s hanbok looks amazing. Was that really the fashion 300 years ago?

As the chat became more active, my fingers moved quickly.

I pressed play on the pre-prepared “Sad Piano BGM.”

“Alright, Mija. Your turn. Give us the tragic love you couldn’t fulfill in your previous life. Really sell the heartbreak!”

Mija plucked a single note on her gayageum.

Then she forced out some tears.

“Alas... I still remember the eyes of that squirrel I saw atop the pine tree. If not for that creature, I would have long ago united with this young gentleman—”

“Cut! Cut! Mija, leave out the squirrel part! It ruins the mood. Just say, ‘Through a cruel twist of fate, I lost my footing.’ We’ll add subtitles saying, ‘A beauty so radiant that Heaven itself grew jealous.’”

I immediately began what I liked to call angelic editing.

Ridiculous ghost deaths transformed into tragic destinies with just a few touches from my hand.

That was when it happened.

The shrine door burst open.

An icy wind rushed inside.

“Hey! You shaman witch! What exactly are you doing with my boyfriend?!”

A female ghost in a bright red dress flew into the room.

Minsu shrieked and hid behind me.

“W-What? Jieun? I thought... I thought you already passed on!”

“Passed on? Not a chance! When you smashed your head into the gym floor and died, I was right beside you choking on diet pills! And now you’re filming some dating show without me?!”

The catfish contestant had arrived.

And she was Minsu’s ex-girlfriend.

Instinctively, I swung the camera toward Jieun.

The capitalism circuits in my brain lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Jackpot... This is it! Everyone, are you seeing this? A love triangle that continues even after death! Live and exclusive!”

Jieun grabbed Minsu by the collar and shook him violently.

Mija raised her gayageum like a shield and assumed a defensive stance.

The chat exploded.

[Anonymous4]: OMG the ex-girlfriend ghost actually showed up LOL. Is this Netflix?

[Anonymous5]: This shaman is insane LOL. She’s not stopping them—she’s adjusting the camera angle.

[Anonymous6]: Donating 50,000 won! Put all three of them in a truth room!

[Anonymous7]: Dying from diet pills... that’s actually kind of sad.

Ding! Ding!

The sound of donations pouring in rang through my ears like a heavenly choir.

Sorry, Minsu.

Sorry, Mija.

But this was a guaranteed million-view clip.

“Jieun! Just pretend to slap Minsu! I’ll add slow motion! Mija, cover your mouth and gasp dramatically! Alright... action!”

Other people’s pain?

The ethics of turning suffering into entertainment?

Well...

Looking at the donation counter climbing higher and higher, I figured those moral questions could wait until my next life.