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Chapter 138

When I went to the underground chapel, the first thing that greeted me was a mountainous pile of offerings sent by the executives while I was in the hospital. The next thing that greeted me was Ji-Ah. She trotted toward me and glared at me silently for a while.

"...What’s wrong?"

"Nothing."

She shook her head with big motions and started tidying up the scattered offerings on the floor.

"These are the offerings that the executives sent. I wrote down the list while they were piling up. Shall I read it to you?"

"A list?"

"Yes, it's a list of who sent what offerings."

"Aha. Yes, please do."

Ji-Ah recited the list. Yun Chang-Su from the Gangwon Branch sent this and that, Yeom Man-Gun from the Jeolla Branch sent that...The list went on.

I listened without much thought until she got halfway through the list. It was only when I heard the list of offerings sent by Ha Pan-Seok from the Chungcheong Branch that I felt any discomfort.

"He sent fewer offerings than the other executives?"

The problem was not the amount of offerings he had sent. The other executives had sent offerings once a month for a total of two times. On the other hand, Ha Pan-Seok had only sent them once.

Ji-Ah nodded slightly.

"Yes, that's correct."

"Was there any particular reason?"

"No, there was no explanation from the Chungcheong Branch. There were no letters or anything like that either."

"Hmm."

Ha Pan-Seok had a history of planning a rebellion. I thought I had him under my influence after the previous executives' meeting. Maybe this was why they said you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

I glanced at the offerings scattered on the floor.

"Nuna. The Chungcheong branch was near... Cheonan, right?"

"Yes, that's correct. There hasn't been any new information about them moving their chapel’s location."

“That's good to hear."

I was planning to go down to the Jeolla Branch to meet Yeom Man-Gun regarding the factory matter, and I decided that I would go see Ha Pa-Seok during my visit.

I wouldn’t tolerate him anymore if he hadn't made an offering because he was plotting another rebellion. If he betrayed me after my efforts, he was someone who would betray me no matter the circumstance. The moment it became certain that he was indeed plotting a rebellion against me, as a witness, Ogun would lay havoc on him right then and there.

"By the way, nuna, could you pass me a piece of paper?"

While contemplating how to punish Ha Pan-Seok, I suddenly remembered Joseph.

I received the piece of paper from Ji-Ah and wrote down information about Joseph with a pen. Not only did I write down the information written on the business card, but also everything I had found out about him during our conversations. I handed the paper back to Ji-Ah.

"Could you investigate this person for me? He's an inquisitor, and he kept coming to the hospital to bother me."

With everything written down, I realized that there wasn’t that much information. But I thought that some general information could be gathered with this. Ji-Ah nodded slowly as she looked at the information written on the paper.

"If he's an inquisitor, it won't be easy to gather information. The security system is a bit different..."

"I don't want any confidential information. I just need some general information. I want to know what kind of person he is, roughly. Would that be possible?"

"Yes, that... I can do it."

"Thank you."

I moved the offerings scattered on the floor toward the warehouse where the Altar was. I offered the offerings through the Altar, but I couldn't hear the voice of the Loa.

Even Legba was silent.

*

I was somewhat hesitant and worried about surveillance and tracking, so I refrained from going outside. After a few weeks of observation, I concluded that there was no surveillance, and I immediately started my activities.

First and foremost, I made an appointment with Yeom Man-Gun and called my uncle to head towards Damyang County.

Yeom Man-Gun has been considering expanding his thriving business as it has been thriving recently. Before he built his new factory, he had bought some land in Damyang, which was almost like a wasteland.

If it weren't for the headquarters' funds, he wouldn't have been able to buy the land, so he said he was fine with installing a building for the Voodoo Cult or another chapel.

Yeom Man-Gun and I decided to meet at the wasteland. I wanted to see the land that Yeom Man-Gun bought, and above all, I was concerned about the eyes of others when I would meet Ha Pan-Seok in the middle of a city.

I wouldn’t have had to worry about such things in the past, but now that I was under suspicion, I needed to pay attention to every little detail.

"Are you tired?" my uncle said while I was sitting in the passenger seat, looking out the window at the world passing by.

"Not really. Why?"

"Your eyes look like they don’t have any light in them. If you're not tired, then keep me company during the ride."

"Hearing that makes me a little tired."

"Yeah? Doesn’t matter. It’s the destiny of the person sitting in the passenger seat." Uncle laughed as he held the steering wheel. "How’s your hand doing?"

"Not that good, as you can see."

"Yeah? Then how is your stomach?"

"It's all healed. But there are still scars."

"Scars? I guess you can cover up..."

Feeling suffocated, I briefly opened the window. The wind blew fiercely. The sensation of the wind on my face was blunt. There was only a sense of contact, without any specific feeling of cold or heat.

I only knew it was a summer breeze because it smelled like summer.

"Aren't you going to the hospital too often these days? I think you've already been there two or three times since you started going to F.A."

"You’re right. It seems like I keep getting injured."

“Take care of yourself. You make things harder for me every time you go to the hospital."

“I’m the one in the hospital. How are things getting harder for you?”

"Because I’m the one responsible for forging your identity. Every time you go to the hospital, I have to manipulate things here and there. Hospital records are more thorough than other places."

"I don't understand what you're saying."

"You know how they go through dental records to figure out the identity of a corpse? It’s kind of like that. When you go to the hospital, they add unnecessary details to your identity, and I have to get rid of them."

Even after listening to the explanation, I couldn't understand what he meant.

My uncle chuckled.

"You don’t get it?"

"Yeah."

"That’s okay. Just be careful from now on. Going to the hospital too often can make things get unnecessarily complicated for you and me."

"Hmm... okay." I nodded haphazardly.

The scenery outside the window changed. It felt like we had transitioned from a meadow to a mountainous area. My uncle let out a yawn.

"Ah... I'm a bit sleepy. Couldn't sleep last night," he said, opening his eyes as wide as possible, trying to drive away his drowsiness.

There were bloodshot veins engraved onto the whites of his eyes. He looked tired.

If Ji-Ah were here, she would probably offer him some gum to fight off sleepiness, but unfortunately, she wasn’t. She was probably eating in the underground chapel right now.

The reason why we hadn’t brought Ji-Ah with us today was simple. If I kept meeting executives from all over the country, I would have to leave the underground chapel empty for a day or two. Someone needed to take care of Yoon-Ah while I was away.

At first, Ji-Ah had pressed on accompanying us, but she quickly understood when I explained why she should stay. She seemed a little lonely as she remained alone in the underground chapel.

I told her that if she was ever bored, she could give me a call, and I would tell her a funny story. She responded with a stern voice.

~

"Take care of yourself, Cult Leader."

~

It sounded like she was a little angry.

Meanwhile, we were passing through a tunnel. My uncle kept shaking his head, trying to shake away the sleep, and started talking to me.

"Hey, but you've become quite famous lately. You know you come up when someone searches your name online, right?"

"Makes sense."

"I saw the interview. You were perfectly like any other Romanican Church member. At this rate, what if you get sucked into your role?" my uncle asked jokingly.

I didn't answer and just laughed along.

On the day of the incident, the taxidermied creatures that had taken the form of devils suddenly appeared all over the place, resulting in the injuries and casualties of many clergymen.

Among them, five clergymen who had almost died miraculously came back to life. Some witnesses even testified that angels descended from heaven and bestowed upon them the light of blessing.

The renowned sacred scientist and prelates concluded it was a "miracle," as there was no other explanation. And I was one of the five who were resurrected by the "miracle" and the only vice priest amongst the five.

Considering that the lowest-ranking person among the other four resurrected clergymen was a bishop, it was truly remarkable. It would be strange if I didn't become famous.

"Any journalists trailing you these days?" my uncle asked.

I nodded. During my hospitalization, journalists flocked to me, requesting interviews. Every time, I responded appropriately. No matter how absurdly I spoke, the journalists would change my original words to write in their articles.

In one article, I was portrayed as a hero, and in another, I was depicted as a complete lunatic. The journalists disappeared on their own as time passed, and the public's interest in the incident waned. Above all, the journalists were more interested in the other four clergymen than me.

They testified, saying things like, "I saw heaven when I briefly died," or "I heard the voice of Adonai," while I consistently claimed that I saw nothing.

Whether it was due to information suppression by the Holy See or the fact that no journalist knew that I had been in a direct battle against the Satanists, only Joseph the inquisitor and his two subordinates knew the truth.

"Well, that’s fortunate. You have to be much more cautious than others. You know that, right?"

"I know. Anyway, the journalists aren't even affiliated with the Holy See... So it's okay if they catch me."

"...What do you mean it's okay? If you slip up, are you going to erase their memories with a spell or something?"

"If that’s the only way left, then yes."

The journalists were not affiliated with the Holy See. If necessary, I could erase their memories through memory annihilation, or if memory annihilation didn't work, we could use the curse of fainting and bury them on Mount Taebaek.

Then, they will be treated as a victim of a simple accident or disappearance, and the Holy See wouldn’t bother looking for them.

"I'm just joking."

Of course, I don't actually plan to do that. In the first place, the journalists were no longer interested in me, and any malicious journalists who invaded my privacy to try to get an interview with me had all been dealt with by the F.A. Foundation and Joseph.

My uncle let out a sigh of relief after hearing my words.

"You scared me, kid. If you're going to make a joke, at least laugh while doing it."

"But I have to be serious to sound convincing."

"You've gotten into the habit of deceiving people."

My uncle briefly closed his mouth while crossing the tollgate. He spoke after the road became quiet.

“Isn't it a bit dangerous to become too famous?"

Judging by his tone, the question seemed to be posed for himself, not toward me. The car was steadily heading toward its destination, speeding down the road. The navigation system indicated we would arrive at our destination in thirty-one minutes.

"Why? It's good to become famous. It sets you up for more opportunities for success."

"That's true. But... Well, I don't know. Setting aside the danger, what will you do if you go to the underground prison and meet your mother? What happens next?"

"If that happens..."

I was at a loss for words. I hadn't thought about this.

"If you become this famous, won't it be difficult to later live in seclusion? And while we're on the topic, even if you somehow manage to get into the underground prison of the Holy See Headquarters, what will you do next? There's no way to bring your mother out without spells or using the power of the Loa."

"Whether it's spells or power, if I can use it, I will. Why should I hold back?"

"So, you’re planning to open your identity to the public? That would trigger a Second Holy War, no?"

"We can go into hiding right after we reveal our identity. There's no need to go as far as inducing a Holy War."

"If that happens, the suppression of the Voodoo Cult will become several times worse than it is now. It could also lead to large-scale massacres like The Starless Night. And you’re telling me that you’re just going to sit back and watch?"

"..."

"Above all, if the suppression becomes worse, our followers won’t be able to sustain their livelihoods. Then, the Voodoo Cult will lack funds. Ultimately, it’ll be a matter of time before the downfall of the Voodoo Cult."

"Well, then. We just need to start the Second Holy War and win. Even if it's not a complete victory, we’ll be able to conquer some areas, right? The cult members can carry on with their life there."

"We just need to win..."

Uncle repeated my words with a stern face.

"You know why the Voodoo Cult lost in the Holy War, right?"

"It’s because the Cult Leader and the Prophet separated, causing an internal power division."

"That's one reason, but the Romanican Church had too much power. You know how many countries have Romanican Churches as their state religion, right? Even if we occupy a few regions, it means nothing to them."

"So what?"

"We have to struggle for our lives just to survive, but they could kill us by just staying still, waiting it out till we die."

My uncle sighed deeply, and after a moment, he licked his dry lips and continued speaking.

"I don’t know much about the topic since I've never been a Prophet. But isn't the power of Loa almost omnipotent? That's how it seems to me."

"Not exactly. At least not with me."

Maybe the power of the Loa was omnipotent when my mom was the Prophet.

"Let's say that it is almost omnipotent. I mean, look at spells. I don’t know too much because I've never used them, but I know people either faint or go crazy when you do as little as draw a single line with your finger. How convenient and powerful is that?"

"I guess you could see it like that."

"Still, the Voodoo Cult lost. And we didn’t just lose. We were completely vanquished. The Prophet was captured and imprisoned, and the Cult Leader was publicly executed by fire. The few remaining believers went into hiding. With two abilities close to omnipotence, why did we lose the Holy War?"

"The executives betrayed us, so we lacked manpower."

"The fights didn’t matter. We won most of the battles. We fought aerial battles with lightning, aquatic battles with crashing waves, and terrestrial battles with plants. With the power of natural disasters on our side, it would have been harder for us to lose. But in the end, the Voodoo Cult lost. Your father defected. Why? Because in a prolonged war, the Voodoo Cult would definitely be at a disadvantage."

"Oh, for crying out loud... So, what are you trying to say? Are you suggesting we fight?"

"No, that’s not what I’m trying to say."

Uncle waved his hand as if to calm me down and let out a bitter laugh.

"...Let's give up on rescuing your mother. Let's say you manage to sneak into the underground prison of the Holy See Headquarters. If she's dead, leave her body there. If she's alive, have a quick conversation and then just leave."

"That's the most bullshit thing I've ever heard from you, Uncle."

"And let's just live like this. That clergyman job you’re trying to secure? I heard you can get a good pension from that. Let's live off that pension while living in hiding as we are doing now. We just need to maintain the Voodoo Cult’s lineage."

"Leave my very alive mother in prison and just live like this? I can't live like that. I'd rather commit suicide."

"Why? You can just live casually and occasionally meet with me, Ji-Ah, and some of the executives. You must have friends at Florence Academy, right? Meet them from time to time as well. What reason is there to not live like that?"

"I would rather die during another Holy War. It would be glorious."

"That's not glorious at all, you idiot. If there's a Holy War, you'll definitely be the first one to go. And innocent members of our cult would be massacred in large numbers."

"..."

"I don't want to see that sight again. Even if I have to live like a dead rat, I like this way of living. We’re comfortable, safe, and sound."

"Well then, Uncle, you live like that. I'll take care of my own life. Whether a Holy War breaks out or not, we have to bring out our mother. Even if she's dead, we'll carry her body out, regardless of whatever it takes."

"I think you forget, but your mother is my older sister. Your business is also my business. Do you think I don't want to see my sister? But looking at it from the long-term perspective, I'm right."

"There must be some way we can safely bring out our mother. No, there is."

"Is that so? If it's possible, that would be the best course of action. But if there isn’t such a method, then go with my plan. In any case, a Holy War is not an option. We will definitely lose, and the process will be grueling. You know this the best."

The incessant echoes of gunshots echoed outside the window. The never-ceasing screaming.The darkness that was impossible to escape from. Spending every day trembling in fear.

The Holy War.

It took everything from me, and I gained nothing in return. The Second Holy War wouldn’t be any different. No, with me as an inadequate and lacking Cult Leader and Prophet, we would suffer an even more miserable defeat during the Second Holy War.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, that was the undeniable truth.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Well, you'll do whatever you want anyway, right?"

"Yeah, you're right."

"Huh, I guess I shouldn’t have expected less from a child who didn’t even listen to their mother to listen to me. Well, alright."

The car arrived at the meeting place with Yeom Man-Gun. As Yeom Man-Gun had mentioned, the land resembled a wasteland. There were no houses, and the roads were almost unpaved.

I got out of the car and looked around. In the center of the wasteland, Yeom Man-Gun was waddling around, bending down and examining the ground.

“Wait, why is that thing here?” Uncle muttered, furrowing his brows.

Upon closer inspection, there was another person next to Yeom Man-Gun. It was a familiar and unexpected face.

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