KTC | Chapter 32

“Did you finish the memorial service for your mother?”

Choi Seonwoo asked as he glanced at the wall clock. It felt like he had only closed his eyes for a moment, yet more than two hours had passed.

“Yes. The memorial service was simple. If it’s okay with you, let’s go to the main house. Elder Nam wants to see us for a moment.”

“Me? Why?”

“I’m not sure either.”

Despite his confusion, Seo Jihan followed Choi Seonwoo to the main house. It was deep into the night by now, but because it was a holiday, the normally quiet Hanok village was still brightly lit, and the sound of children shouting could be heard in the distance.

“Elder, I’ve brought the kid.”

Standing in front of the sliding doors, Choi Seonwoo’s words made Seo Jihan’s eyes momentarily harden. He was annoyed at being repeatedly treated like a child after having been so firmly put in his place.

“Let him in.”

With Nam Sang’s permission, Choi Seonwoo carefully slid open the door. The scent of incense and ritual food wafted through the opening.

Feeling somewhat twisted inside, Seo Jihan stepped in as soon as the door opened and flopped down on the cushion opposite Nam. Between them, a large low table was set, on which items commonly used by shamans for divination were neatly arranged. Seo Jihan’s gaze involuntarily drifted to a cream-colored porcelain jar in one corner of the table.

“Late Choi Ji-eun”

It seemed Choi Seonwoo took his mother’s surname. As Seo Jihan was about to shift his gaze to the year of death, Nam Sang placed the urn under the table and sprinkled rice grains for divination.

When Seo Jihan looked up again, Nam’s thick eyebrows twitched upwards. His wrinkled lips parted slightly.

“The seed you inherited is troublesome, but your fate is not entirely bad. It’s thanks to your mother that you have survived until now.”

Nam surveyed Seo Jihan’s surroundings with keen eyes. The ghost of a horribly disfigured woman was constantly bowing to Choi Ji-eun’s urn. Rather than untangling complicated resentments, she seemed simply grateful that her child had survived.

“Seonwoo, step outside for a moment.”

At Nam’s command, Choi Seonwoo looked at him in confusion. He wanted to protest—‘I’m here to protect him,’—but Nam’s gaze was resolute.

Knowing the elder’s acumen, Choi Seonwoo quietly left the room without further fuss.

“My eyes are sharp, but I’ve never been able to see Seonwoo’s fate. Whenever I try to divine his future, even the spirits I serve would fall silent as if they had made a pact.”

With Choi Seonwoo gone, the conversation surprisingly turned to him.

“But you, I can see through you. Through you, I can vaguely see Seonwoo as well.”

Nam glared intensely. Seo Jihan felt as if the darkness around him was densely filling the space, creeping inside him. Everything else faded, leaving only those bright, spirited eyes staring back at him.

“If you regard Seonwoo as your benefactor, then distance yourself from him as soon as possible. That’s the only way you can repay him.”

The fierce gaze, like that of a wild animal protecting its last cub, pierced Seo Jihan. His brows furrowed slightly.

“You are destined to devour Seonwoo.”

The next morning, as usual, Nam woke up at 5 AM, finished the meal a housekeeper had prepared, washed up, and then sat on the silk mat. He cast divinations with rice, drew five directions talismans, and even dabbled in tarot cards for fun.

No matter the method, the divinations only added to his worries. The fortunes he divined through Seo Jihan for Choi Seonwoo were despairingly gloomy.

Seo Jihan had managed to reconnect with Choi Seonwoo and find a path to live more humanely, but conversely, it seemed Choi was bound again by karma.

One was stubborn enough to charge into a furnace, and the other had never feared it. With both charging at full speed toward each other, trouble was inevitable.

“Elder, we’re going to head up now.”

Choi Seonwoo’s polite farewell broke Nam’s train of thought. As he walked out to the main hall and saw Choi Seonwoo, Seo Jihan’s face was the first thing he noticed, grinning mischievously.

That… infuriating creature!

A brief exchange from the night before flashed through his mind, igniting uncontrollable anger.

“Really? Am I supposed to devour the priest?”

Seo Jihan had responded to his warning with a brazen smile, genuinely pleased.

“What’s so funny? Didn’t you understand my words?”

“I did. But if I’m destined to devour the priest, that means he can’t ever leave my side. That’s enough for me.”

There was no crazier than him.

Nam then saw in Seo Jihan’s eyes a madness not yet matured. Even the spirits hiding in his shadow seemed to writhe, intoxicated by the noxious scent of his sinful aura.

“Young people’s affairs—don’t get involved and see things you shouldn’t. Let it be. Isn’t fate meant to flow in its own direction anyway?”

The biggest problem with that guy was that he only spoke the truth, which was precisely why it was infuriating.

Feeling his blood boil to the point of vomiting, Nam looked down and saw Choi Seonwoo gazing blankly at him, smiling absently.

“What a fool.”

As Nam sharply threw out those words, Choi Seonwoo blinked, confused, and even Angela, sitting quietly in his bag, made an irritated noise.

“Go!”

Nam turned and disappeared inside. Choi Seonwoo blinked stupidly, then tilted his head as he looked back, as bewildered as Seo Jihan.

The ride back to Shindo was filled with an awkward tension. Choi Seonwoo kept an eye on Seo Jihan, trying to guess what he had heard to make him seem so out of sorts, but he couldn’t grasp it.

His normally buoyant demeanor was intermittently shadowed by a peculiar heaviness. When asked what the elder had said, Seo Jihan skillfully changed the subject, preventing further inquiries.

As a result, they didn’t make it to the Korean restaurant they had promised to visit on the way down, only stopping at rest stops to eat. The uncomfortable silence continued without a chance to break.

Upon reaching the cathedral and having dinner, Seo Jihan locked himself in his room at the clergy house. After a restless wash-up and the evening mass, Choi Seonwoo returned to find Seo Jihan sitting at the dining table alone, drinking soju. He had apparently bought some Korean pancakes from a local tavern as a side dish.

Choi Seonwoo gasped and hurried over to snatch the soju bottle.

“Brother? Where did you get the alcohol?”

Seo Jihan just slumped his shoulders and looked up at Choi Seonwoo with a very despondent expression, reminiscent of a dog drenched in the rain. Choi Seonwoo dumped the soju bottle in a corner of the sink and sat down across from him.

“Did Manager Kim bring all this for you? I’m going to tell Brother Theodore. You’re supposed to be watched over, not supplied with alcohol.”

“Just ignore it. Why blame Manager Kim who can’t refuse even under dire threats? What if he gets fired, will you take responsibility?”

Hmm…

That was true. What power did Kim Youngchan have against Seo Jihan, who was becoming increasingly unruly as he regained his strength?

But still, buying alcohol for him, that was something to scold about.

“Stop suffering alone and tell me. What exactly did the elder say to you?”

This was the last time he would ask. If Seo Jihan dodged the question again, he would never bring it up. However, Seo Jihan surprisingly opened up.

“That grandfather threatened me.”

“…Huh?”

His story was likely distorted to his advantage.

“He said I’m destined to devour you, and I should just leave on my own accord.”

Choi Seonwoo crossed his legs and folded his arms, his expression puzzled. He knew Nam to be blunt with anyone, but this statement seemed off.

“The elder can’t see my fate, can he?”

“He says he can see something through me.”

Choi Seonwoo mulled over the meaning, and it made some sense. By closely observing the paths of connections, one could guess the contours within even the most solid person.

“Even so, a guess remains a guess, no matter what Elder Nam says. He can’t see my future.”

Choi Seonwoo said this calmly, his gaze unshaken. Seo Jihan felt an irresistible admiration for his solidity, yet it was frustrating that he couldn’t find any cracks.

“So, I don’t have to leave your side, do I?”