The Scripture
From the next day on, my life changed completely. I moved into a motel and gave up my studio apartment. Yoonchae brought her own things and nested in the room next door to mine. The three of us no longer went to school, and Yongjin kept busy running around on one errand after another. Yoonchae stayed by my side almost twenty-four hours a day.
Yet in ordinary hours she simply remained near me, offering none of the tender atmosphere one might expect. Only when night fell and the two of us were alone would she walk naked into my room and curl into my arms.
“If you don’t want to have sex, just hold me.”
As if that were possible. How was I supposed to sleep with the most beautiful woman I knew lying naked in my bed? There were nights, though, when she did not come. Once or twice a week Myeongsuk entered my room instead. She came under the pretext of teaching me Bangjungsul. Whether she spoke to Yoonchae beforehand or Yoonchae simply noticed her presence and stayed away on her own, I never knew.
Unlike Yoonchae, who was still growing used to sex, Myeongsuk’s entire body was a weapon. She explained every position and every erogenous zone a woman possessed while we fucked until dawn. Soaked in sweat, she would dress at first light and go home. No matter how late it grew, she never spent the night. For the first few days I felt awkward facing Yoonchae the next morning, but she never showed the slightest reaction, and little by little I grew accustomed to the arrangement.
People gathered. They came to the new place, and I spoke to them as I always had. They left with faces full of emotion. After each gathering, construction began at the motel the following day. Partitions shifted floor by floor; the interiors changed bit by bit.
The numbers grew. Nearly a hundred people seemed to be coming now. The hall filled to capacity. Speaking in my bare voice became impossible, so Yongjin installed an audio system. Before I began, soft meditative music poured from the speakers and the people sat in meditation. Only when I entered did they open their eyes and fix their attention on me. And then their rapture began.
That life continued for about a month. Attendance climbed well past a hundred. Most of the listeners were middle-aged women; a few younger women and older men appeared now and then. The curious thing was that after I finished speaking, no one ever approached me privately or sought me out. When my talk ended they simply left in silence, and the four of us gathered to review the session and plan the next. I had no complaints. I had always liked speaking in front of people, and the sight of a crowd moved by my words—or taking something from them—was satisfaction enough.
One day, during one of those meetings, Yongjin spoke with a serious face.
“I think it’s time we showed them who we really are.”
Myeongsuk nodded.
“He’s right. The people who come now look as if they’re starting to believe in this gathering. Clarifying our direction and our vision will only help us draw more of them.”
Yongjin pulled something from his bag and handed it to me.
“I got a little consulting through someone I know. We’ve reached the limit of what we can do as a private club trading in nice-sounding talk.”
What he offered was a thick sheaf of printouts—hundreds of pages, by the look of it. I asked,
“What’s this?”
Yongjin glanced from one of us to the next.
“Scripture.”
I stared.
“Scripture? So we’re actually founding a religion? This wasn’t just talk?”
Myeongsuk cut in.
“Of course it is. I’ve been meaning to say so myself. To the people who come here, this gathering is already a religion—a faith. You can see it in their faces: they’re waiting for something that will bind them together.”
I shook my head hard. Their sudden determination to go all the way sent a jolt of fear through me.
“I’m no messiah and I’m no god. People will see through me soon enough.”
Yoonchae took my hand.
“No. Jisin is a god on earth. That is why you are Jisin—the Earth God.”
I looked at her. To you, maybe. Myeongsuk went on.
“The first people who came were drawn by the occult, by superstition—that much is true. But it isn’t true anymore. There’s no more superstition here, no more magic. So it’s better that we make our identity clear.”
Yongjin backed her up.
“Right. That old image has a ceiling on growth. Building a real structure is what matters now, he said.”
How the three of them always moved in such perfect lockstep, I could not understand. Realizing I was the only one still arguing against it, I stopped objecting. We kept talking, and Yongjin decided to bring in the consultant who had helped him so we could finish the scripture and our vision together.
A few days later Yongjin called me and arrived with a guest—the person who had consulted on the scripture. I had never known such a profession even existed. Yoonchae and I waited for him on the first floor; at last he appeared. The woman he brought was about thirty, her sharp eyes hidden behind glasses. She was slender, yet she gave an overall impression of solidity. The moment she stepped inside the building she fixed her gaze on me and introduced herself.
“Hello. My name is Jeon Miryeong.”
I held out my hand, but she bowed at a full ninety degrees—utterly deferential. When she raised her head she continued.
“I was with Cheoncheon-gyo. I left that place and have been studying theology.”
Cheoncheon-gyo was a cult I knew of—a pseudo-religious group whose members had caused public scandals with their aggressive proselytizing and had since gone almost entirely underground. We had converted one of the motel lounges into a rest area where guests could have drinks; we moved there and sat down. Miryeong began speaking at once.
“From what I have been told, this gathering is no longer a private circle, and those who attend no longer regard it as one. In fact, I came secretly to the last meeting and listened. That night I went home and wept until morning. From that day until this one I have done nothing but wait for the hour I would meet Jisin.”
What? The woman who had looked so sharp-edged had just said something completely unexpected; I was thrown.
“Once I collected myself, I understood the hearts of the people who gather here. So from that day forward I completed this scripture. I never imagined I could finish so many pages so quickly, or with such joy.”
Miryeong drew out a USB drive and set it on the table. Then she looked straight at me.
“The problem is that this is only the basic framework—fine words and nothing more. I will need further conversation with Jisin so that we can refine our doctrine and teachings.”
I nodded without thinking, then caught myself and glanced at Yoonchae. She still wore her blank expression, staring straight ahead. Miryeong pressed on without hesitation.
“Tomorrow I will come here and begin the work with Jisin.”
Yongjin gave a faint, crooked smile and nodded.
“Yes. We’re counting on you, sunbae.”
Sunbae? I looked at him in surprise, but he would not meet my eyes. We exchanged a few more brief words, and then Miryeong left. I asked Yongjin about her.
“Sunbae? Is she a senior from our school? And why is she acting like that toward me…?”
Yongjin laughed.
“She is a senior from our school, yes. She was researching theology, got pulled into Cheoncheon-gyo, and left when the cult’s influence collapsed. That sunbae is the one who organized their doctrine and cleaned up their half-baked temple texts. She’s a complete specialist in this field.”
I nodded, then said,
“Still, the way she talks is a little strange. Is she actually normal?”
Yongjin gave a hollow laugh.
“Apparently she slipped in and heard one of your lectures. And just like all those middle-aged women, she fell hard for you. Well… of course she did. I asked her for the favor in the first place, but her reaction was lukewarm at first. After that, she turned this aggressive.”
I sighed. It felt as though we were stepping fully into the world of the abnormal.
The next morning Miryeong arrived early. I took her up to my room. Yoonchae had followed me; when she saw the other woman’s uncomfortable expression she said,
“I’ll be in the next room.”
Once Yoonchae had gone, Miryeong asked me,
“Who is that woman?”
I explained everything about Yoonchae. When she finished listening, Miryeong’s face took on a strange expression. She said nothing more, and our work began.