KTC | Chapter 12

A clear glow filled the sunken depths of his eyes, resembling a skeleton’s hollows. Despite coming to entrust his life to Choi Seonwoo, Seo Jihan’s gaze dripped with distrust and arrogance.

Without warning, Seo Jihan leaned forward, completely invading Choi Seonwoo’s personal space, which Choi did not resist. Instead, he met Seo Jihan’s gaze calmly, seemingly intrigued.

Seo Jihan stopped only when their breaths intertwined, nearly touching each other’s noses.

“Why can’t I see inside you, Father?”

Choi Seonwoo realized how long and lush Seo Jihan’s eyelashes were, casting shadows under his eyes. He also noticed the cold, calculating tiger within, pretending to be a gentle lamb.

Cute kid, Choi thought, seeing him as nothing more than a cub inside. Well, if that cub grows well, it could become the king of the jungle someday.

“It’s fitting to say that blood cannot lie. Unlike his grandfather, who made his own laws in his kingdom, this guy seems to be more socialized.”

“Even concentrating all my senses this close, I can’t see anything inside you, Father. This is the first time this has happened.”

“Is it intriguing because it’s the first time?”

“Yes. I’ve been trying since we were at the pier, and it just doesn’t work.”

Seo Jihan’s gaze wasn’t confined to Choi Seonwoo’s eyes; it roamed his entire face as if trying to memorize every detail, every fuzz.

Seo Jihan flicked Choi Seonwoo’s crisp Roman collar.

“It makes me even more curious since I can’t see anything. What really lies beneath this holy garb?”

That’s human nature; the more you’re told not to touch something, the more you want to touch it, the more you’re told not to look, the more you want to see.

Choi Seonwoo’s eyes, which hid his inner self and showed only what he wanted others to see, seemed like an impenetrable fortress, though fragile in color. This only boiled Seo Jihan’s curiosity more, even though he knew that once he saw inside, he might find nothing but the disgusting true nature, no different from any other human behind a beautiful mask.

“There’s nothing interesting or curious about me.”

Choi Seonwoo pushed Seo Jihan’s forehead with his index finger, causing him to stumble back slightly without resisting, yet his intense gaze didn’t waver.

“Instead of worrying about that, just focus on getting better.”

“This isn’t something that gets better with treatment. You yourself said it’s something I have to live with forever.”

“Well, normally, yes. Vengeful spirits aren’t something you can mess with easily. And you might plan to stick with me for life, but I don’t intend to keep you around forever.”

“What am I supposed to do then?”

Choi Seonwoo smiled broadly and rubbed Seo Jihan’s forehead more gently. It was as if Seo Jihan had been pricked by a needle, his eyes twitching slightly.

Just as Seo Jihan thought the priest was being inconsistently playful, Choi Seonwoo spoke again.

“Those spirits clinging to you are nothing but mere ghostly minions.”

Releasing his forehead, Choi Seonwoo’s expression turned serious as he whispered, almost seductively. It was a look that evoked primitive ferocity. Seo Jihan realized that Choi Seonwoo was seeing right through him.

“Trust me, Brother. No matter how strong the adversary, I can conquer it.”

Choi Seonwoo’s eyes, like golden mirrors, reflected Seo Jihan’s face so clearly that he couldn’t tell whether the monster he saw was his or Choi Seonwoo’s.

The sound of an alarm woke Choi Seonwoo. He stretched comfortably in bed as Angela leaped beside him, putting her cute front paws on his chest and stretching along with him.

Sitting up, Choi Seonwoo drank a glass of water.

It had been exactly a week since Seo Jihan stayed at the church. Thanks to Angela freely roaming the first and second floors, leaving doors open, the scent of food in the morning was becoming familiar.

“Good morning, Father!”

Still in his pajamas, Choi Seonwoo descended to the first floor where Lee Jeongae greeted him with a smile. He returned the greeting and turned to see Seo Jihan hunched on the sofa. He must have been up for a while.

“Your eyes are red. Didn’t sleep well?”

His weight was gradually returning, but his eyes seemed more sunken day by day.

“I’ve always been picky about my sleeping conditions.”

Seo Jihan rubbed his gritty eyes, his voice almost scraping the floor.

Choi Seonwoo tilted his head thoughtfully before approaching Seo Jihan. Casually making the sign of the cross, he placed his hands on Seo Jihan’s head without asking.

“Fucking stop it, will you?”

Recognizing what Choi Seonwoo was about to do, Seo Jihan shook off his hands in annoyance. But Choi Seonwoo persisted, pressing closer and beginning a blessing.

“Merciful God, although our brother John’s sins are as great as mountains, and even Satan might flinch at them,”

“Is Satan flinching supposed to be a compliment?”

Interrupting himself, Seo Jihan rolled his eyes in disbelief. His eyes, always reflecting everything like shallow brown mirrors, flickered with realization.

“Even if our brother John is such that even the Blessed Mother might flinch.”

“That’s blasphemy.”

“…Shut up. I’m praying.”

Seo Jihan wanted to argue that he didn’t need prayers to a god he didn’t believe in, but he found it too bothersome and remained silent.

He had hardly slept two hours. Lack of sleep made every nerve feel like a needle, and it took monumental effort even to speak.

“So please, look kindly upon this unruly lamb, and grant him peace and joy in the Lord. Amen.”

After finishing the blessing, Choi Seonwoo stepped back and casually took a seat at the table, facing Seo Jihan.

“You look very tired. Want to just rest in your room today?”

“Don’t I need to stick by your side?”

It sounded as if he was reluctantly accepting his fate. Choi Seonwoo chuckled and narrowed his eyes.

“You don’t have to stick that close. Just staying within the church is fine.”

“That’s funny. This isn’t some inviolable sanctuary.”

“It is a sanctuary, though.”

Choi Seonwoo replied nonchalantly. Seo Jihan rubbed his throat, which kept cracking, and stared intensely at him. Even without speaking, his distrustful eyes were brimming.

Despite relying on Choi Seonwoo for survival and clinging to him like a leech, Seo Jihan still couldn’t bring himself to accept the god Choi Seonwoo believed in. That was why he kept responding so cynically.

“Forgot? I’m a pretty capable exorcist. Normally, no decently powerful evil spirit can even approach the consecrated ground of this church because of me.”

Choi Seonwoo might not believe in his god, but he could believe in Choi Seonwoo a bit. He had seen with his own eyes and felt with his own body—he couldn’t deny that. With a slight relenting in his sharpness, Seo Jihan reluctantly nodded.

“Still, I hate just being cooped up in a room.”

Try being tied to a bed for months. Even if it’s tough, he wanted to walk outside.

“Well, do what you want then.”

Waving it off, Choi Seonwoo picked up a newspaper lying beside him. The newspaper Seo Jihan had touched showed the social news section.

“The government steps in to save Yunseul Village.”

After the mysterious death of High Shaman Yuksun, rumors about the Unknown Cult and Yunseul Village had resurfaced. Personal broadcasting platforms were rife with unchecked nonsense. Choi Seonwoo wasn’t interested in either side.

“I barely remember anything from there.”

Choi Seonwoo paused while unfolding the front page of the newspaper at this sudden remark. Despite looking like a beggar with his prominent cheekbones and jawline, Seo Jihan’s deeply sunken eyes shone like will-o’-the-wisps, staring somewhere between Choi Seonwoo and the newspaper.

“How I was kidnapped, what I endured in that fake church, how I made it back such a distance, all of it. If memory is like a drawing on a sketchbook, then it’s as if someone repeatedly painted over mine with black ink. But strangely, I remember the moments when I was most like a demon. I remember tearing open the bellies of men several times my size, pulling out intestines, dislocating joints, and finally crushing skulls.”

Choi Seonwoo neatly folded the newspaper and set it aside, then leisurely crossed his legs. He placed his clasped hands on his knees, signaling he was ready to engage in conversation.