KTC | Chapter 14

At Lee Juhee’s calm response, Goo Seungjun let out a snicker. Deep dimples etched into his youthful face, barely into his twenties.

In the National Intelligence Service, filled with elites, the SU Team, with their modest backgrounds and ambiguous origins, were subtly ostracized. But no one openly disrespected them, as they were a team under the director himself and often dealt with forces beyond human realms.

“I’d rather all my memories come back this time. Seriously, what’s so wrong about wanting to have killed those crazies with my own hands? I doubt I’d feel guilty even if I remembered. If anything, it would be a relief. Don’t you think so?”

“To be honest, I feel the same. Knowing is better than feeling uneasy about not knowing.”

They shared the same thought—that if their memories fully returned, they might find an effective way to combat and eliminate the Ghost King and other evil spirits.

After that, silence fell again in the car, broken only by the emotionless voice of the navigation system directing them.

＊＊＊

During the regular Wednesday choir practice, Choi Seonwoo faced a minor tragedy.

“Priest! What do we do about our choir? Sister Helena is moving near her son’s place next month.”

“Oh… Really?”

It was a minor but significant tragedy.

Kim Soonok, who went by the baptismal name Helena, crinkled her nose apologetically.

“I’m sorry, Father. My daughter wants to go back to work and there’s no one to watch the baby. She’s too young to be left with strangers.”

“There’s no need to apologize. It’s good for you to be near your daughter. Are you moving for good?”

“I want to come back once the baby starts daycare, but I feel like I might get stuck there once I go. But who will play for the choir if I’m not here? Will the sister do it?”

“If we don’t have a pianist, the sister will have to play.”

Luckily, Sister Catherine Jung Yoonyoung knew how to play the organ, so they wouldn’t have to endure a cappella hymns.

“Ah well, if there are no teeth, the gums must do… We’ll continue with the choir practice.”

While the choir practiced, Choi Seonwoo picked up his catechism notebook among those left behind by the parishioners. It was a notebook he scribbled in whenever he thought of themes for his homilies, but today, the pen just wouldn’t move.

Finding a new organ player on an island where people leave but never arrive felt as impossible as plucking stars from the sky. He was troubled.

During this stagnating moment, Seo Jihan, sitting opposite him, made a suggestion. “Why don’t you just buy a new piano?”

Choi Seonwoo looked up, twirling a pen between his fingers. “Why a piano?”

“Well, some keys are broken, and some are out of tune. Shouldn’t it be fixed? Hymns are pretty important for church events, right?”

Choi Seonwoo sighed in realization. “Can you play the piano?”

“I played as a hobby until middle school.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

With a sparkle in his eyes, Choi Seonwoo suddenly turned around and shouted.

“Sister! We’ve found our pianist!”

“What! Really? Where? Who’s going to play?”

“Brother John says he can play the piano!”

…What is this guy doing?

Stunned by the sudden declaration, Seo Jihan blurted out in irritation.

“Shit. Who said I would?”

Choi Seonwoo straightened up, looking at him with wide eyes. “You curse at a priest? That’s disrespectful, isn’t it?”

“…Let it go, it was a mutter. Anyway, who said anything about playing?”

The inability to properly retort irked Seo Jihan anew. Gritting his teeth, he responded, and Choi Seonwoo smirked, crossing his arms.

“You have to earn your keep, don’t you, brother?”

“But my grandfather is already paying more than enough.”

“…Oh, that’s true. Then, how about for the value of your life?”

Choi Seonwoo changed the subject nonchalantly. He’d only known him for a few days, but this man was surprisingly imperturbable and shameless.

Seo Jihan had seen his kind before—people who had so much they didn’t blink an eye no matter the stakes. But they always made sure to recoup their losses, often doubly so.

His grandfather was like that, and so was Seo Jihan himself. Only their methods of achieving their goals differed. Yet, there was something about Choi Seonwoo, even in his unremarkable posture, that smelled of kinship.

“Is it right for a priest to play with human lives like this?”

Suppressing the urge to challenge Choi Seonwoo’s priestly attire again, Seo Jihan gave a mirthless laugh. It was clearly not friendly.

Choi Seonwoo shrugged.

“You’re going too far, brother. If I wanted to play with you, I’d have kept you on tenterhooks, not agreed so easily without anything in return.”

“That sounded almost like a threat. ‘Do as I say if you want to live.’”

“Well, that’s… Ah, just do what you’re told. This church’s operational environment is so tough we’d even borrow a cat’s paw if necessary.”

“Next time, just say it straight. Beating around the bush feels worse.”

“I didn’t know you that well yet, brother. But you’ll do it anyway, right?”

Choi Seonwoo asked with a faint smile.

“Yes, well, I have to, don’t I?”

Seo Jihan grimaced subtly but had no choice but to agree. Being in a position without options in front of Choi Seonwoo was hardly a pleasant realization.

“Then at least replace that junk piano first. I’m sensitive to sound, and it’s been really bothering me.”

“…Pianos are expensive. That one was discarded by Yeongjong Cathedral.”

As Choi Seonwoo slumped his shoulders, Seo Jihan incredulously picked up his phone and began searching for a piano model he used to play.

When Seo Jihan first touched a piano, Chairman Seo, thinking his grandson was a prodigy just for touching things, immediately bought him a top-tier piano favored by professional pianists.

“Jihan, Chairman Seo has already donated to Shindo Catholic Church. You can buy it yourself with that amount.”

Kim Youngchan, who had been standing behind him, watching the situation unfold, sharply interjected. With his loyalty firmly to Seo Jihan, there was no way he’d view Choi Seonwoo’s manipulative behavior favorably. Plus, pretending to be in need despite receiving a hefty donation was just too much for him to bear.

“How much did he donate?”

“One hundred million won.”

Instead of replying, Seo Jihan showed Kim Youngchan the piano model he had found. Upon seeing the screen, Kim Youngchan’s face turned pale.

Uh… that’s more than a hundred million… Then it’s right for Jihan to buy it. Right.

“Priest, give me the address here.”

Choi Seonwoo blinked a few times before responding.

“You seem to be planning to buy something expensive, but you don’t need to. This room is usually used for catechism classes or Sunday school, so we put a piano here, but we use an organ for mass.”

“You’re going to use me wherever you need an accompanist anyway.”

“…Yeah. That’s true.”

“I only use one specific type of pen because I have a strong attachment to familiar things. Just give me the address without worrying about it.”

Well, if that’s the case.

Since he was going to use his own money to buy what he wanted, Choi Seonwoo just gave the address. After placing the order, Seo Jihan set down his phone and once again fixed his gaze on Choi Seonwoo.

“I’m doing it because the person who holds my leash says so, but let me be clear—I’m a staunch atheist. I don’t sincerely believe in your God or any other.”

“Hmm, that’s not something someone who got up from their sickbed by the grace of God should say, is it?”

“No. That wasn’t the grace of God.”

With a conviction in his tone, Choi Seonwoo just raised the corner of his mouth ambiguously.

As the choir practice showed signs of ending, Seo Jihan quickly got up.

These island people are so nosy, always trying to strike up a conversation at the slightest eye contact.

“I’m heading to the priory.”

“Okay. You don’t need to report everything.”

I really want to hit this guy, his eyes conveyed, brimming with that sentiment as Seo Jihan left.

After the choir disbanded, Sister Catherine Jung approached. Now that they were alone, she lowered her voice slightly to speak.

“About Brother John…”

“Yes? What about him?”

“Doesn’t it seem like that’s not quite it?”

Choi Seonwoo tilted his head, puzzled, as Sister Catherine’s voice dropped to a whisper.