"I seriously can't handle carrying this insane secret all by myself anymore!" Bagas muttered, panting heavily as he power-walked down the narrow footpath skirting the edge of the village.

Following the near-heart-attack incident at the village hall—where he thought the Fake Village Head's Wife had a mere twenty minutes left to live, which mercifully turned out to be a misread caused by a dusty fan blowing in his eyes (or perhaps because she stopped singing the moment the water delivery guy interrupted her)—Bagas decided he needed professional help. Not a general practitioner, and certainly not the local public health clinic psychiatrist, but a neighborhood-tier supernatural expert.

His destination was a cramped shophouse tucked away at the dead end of a back alley, home to Ki Jangkung, a local shaman popular among the neighbors who was rumored to be a jack-of-all-trades: from tracking down lost wallets to boosting struggling food stalls facing a drought of customers.

Bagas slowly shoved open the unlocked shophouse door. The moment he stepped inside, reality warped. The room was dim, illuminated only by a single red-tinted incandescent bulb. A pungent aroma instantly assaulted his nose—a suffocating cocktail of heavy incense and... the burning smoke of a Kingkong-brand mosquito coil.

"Hmm... Welcome, young traveler..." a deep, raspy voice echoed from behind a frayed, ancient black cloth curtain.

From behind the curtain emerged Ki Jangkung. The mystical shaman wore a long black robe that hung loosely over his emaciated frame, topped with a crooked traditional blangkon cap perched on his head. He sat cross-legged on a pandanus mat, clutching a small, rusty dagger.

Bagas swallowed hard against his rising nerves, then sank into a cross-legged position across from the shaman. "Um... Excuse me, Ki. I'm here for a consultation... about something a bit outside the laws of nature."

Ki Jangkung squeezed his eyes shut tight, thrusting his chin high into the air with an air of heavy-handed mystery. "I know... I sensed the aura of deep agitation clinging to your soul the second you crossed my threshold. You are lost, aren't you? Your spirit groans under a heavy burden regarding wealth or romance?"

Before Bagas could even open his mouth to reply, a shrill jingle suddenly erupted from deep within the folds of Ki Jangkung’s black robe.

Telolet... telolet... The ringtone of a bouncy dangdut koplo track, "Goyang Dua Jempol," blasted at full volume.

Ki Jangkung abruptly choked on his own saliva. His mysterious facade instantly shattered into a million pieces. With awkward, fumbling movements, he dug into his robe pocket and hauled out a cheap, local-brand smartphone featuring a spiderweb-cracked screen.

"Hello? Oh, right, Bu Haji... The black rooster ritual offering for your catfish stall's business booster is all set, just pick it up this afternoon... Transfer the down payment via QRIS, don't use cash so it's easy for the admin to log... Okay, sweet!" Ki Jangkung ended the call casually, then shoved the phone back into his robe pocket. He gave a soft throat-clearing cough to salvage his dignity. "Ahem! Sorry about that, kid. A modern shaman has to adapt to creative economy digital transformation."

Bagas blinked rapidly, watching the mystic aura of the shaman completely implode in under ten seconds. "Ah... sure, Ki. No worries. It's the 5G era after all."

Ki Jangkung slapped his serious mask back on, glaring sharply at Bagas. "Now, tell me, what brings you to my domain? Is your shop running dry? Are your competitors using black magic against you?"

"It's not that my shop is slow, Ki. But... I'm experiencing something really weird," Bagas complained with a tone of utter despair. "Every single time I look at someone, transparent numbers suddenly appear above their heads. They're like remaining lifespans, Ki! Sort of like a death countdown timer!"

Hearing that explanation, Ki Jangkung fell silent for a moment. The shaman nodded thoughtfully, then broke into a wide grin that exposed a couple of missing teeth.

"Oh! Why didn't you just say so, kid! You're suffering from capital-hallucination syndrome, aren't you?" Ki Jangkung chuckled, giving Bagas's knee a familiar, chummy pat.

Bagas furrowed his brow. "Capital-hallucination syndrome? What's that supposed to mean, Ki?"

"Oh, come on, don't play innocent in front of Ki Jangkung!" the shaman laughed heartily. "You're secretly trying to make your mum's Barokah Jaya Convenience Store go viral and crush the competition, right? That's why you came here looking for a mystical shortcut to bypass market saturation!"

Bagas stared blankly, realizing the conversation was careening miles away from his actual problem. "Huh?! No, Ki! I'm dead serious! These are real death numbers! This morning my neighbor almost—"

"Save the elaborate mystic excuses!" Ki Jangkung interrupted, raising a single index finger with the flair of a seasoned snake-oil salesman. "If your goal is to boost your shop and leave the rival convenience store in the dust, rest easy! Ki Jangkung has the most up-to-date, eco-friendly black magic packages tailor-made for tech-savvy youth like you!"

Bagas swallowed hard, a creeping dread washing over him. "What kind of... black magic packages, Ki?"

"Listen closely," Ki Jangkung whispered theatrically. "Option one: we have the Online Babi Ngepet. You don't even need to run around the village half-naked at midnight carrying a candle anymore. Just register through our smartphone app, and our AI system will automatically skim your neighbors' e-wallet balances in total silence!"

Bagas recoiled in absolute horror, jolting backward. "Whoa! That's not black magic, Ki! That's high-tech banking fraud with a sketchy religious rebrand!"

"If that's not cutting-edge enough, we have option two!" Ki Jangkung pressed on, refusing to lose momentum, eagerly pushing his supernatural product line. "The Digital Tuyul. It’s transparent, completely invisible to the naked eye, but it works lightning-fast, slipping right into mobile banking transfer systems at midnight without tripping the bank's security guards!"

"Ki, please! I didn't come here to consult on how to become a supernatural hacker!" Bagas protested in frustration, rubbing his face with both hands. "I just want to know why I'm seeing these numbers over people's heads! Is there an antidote? Do I need to drink bathwater infused with seven kinds of flowers?"

Ki Jangkung narrowed his eyes, studying Bagas suspiciously from beneath his crooked blangkon. "Are you seriously not here asking for a business-boosting ritual?"

"I swear on my remaining half-gigabyte of mobile data, I am dead serious, Ki!" Bagas pleaded pathetically.

Seeing the genuine panic and sincerity stamped across Bagas's face, Ki Jangkung's expression slowly shifted. The slick, commercial grin vanished, replaced by deep, heavy furrows across the shaman's brow. He remained dead silent for a long moment, narrowing his eyes as he locked a piercing gaze onto Bagas's forehead.

Bagas felt deeply uncomfortable under the heavy scrutiny. "What is it, Ki? Is there dirt on my forehead too, like Mr. RT said?"

Ki Jangkung didn't answer. The shaman slowly crawled forward, the smell of incense growing thick and suffocating in the air. His lean hands trembled slightly as he raised a single index finger, pointing it directly at the bridge of Bagas's nose.

The dim shophouse plunged into an eerie, heavy silence, broken only by the faint whir of an ancient electric fan in the corner.

Ki Jangkung stared at Bagas's forehead with wide, terrified eyes, and whispered in a raspy, trembling voice:

"Wait... kid... you didn't come here asking for black magic wealth..." Ki Jangkung whispered softly, the hairs on the back of his neck visibly standing up beneath his black robe.

Bagas swallowed hard, his heart hammering wildly against his ribs. "W-what is it, Ki? What's wrong with me?"

The shaman swallowed hard, his eyes bulging as he stared into the empty air right above Bagas's brow. "Because you... you are carrying... the numbers of death on your own head!"