The Evil God's Touch (4)

A few days later. Yeomyeong headed toward the annex building of Haninhae. It was to report on his mission. When he had first reported to the President on the first day, the President had told him he would be able to meet the priestess the very next day. Yet, Miraj had refused to see him for several days.

Her excuse was that she couldn't take her eyes off her ongoing research. Naturally, it was a superficial excuse. Countless Haninhae staff members had already visited her laboratory. However, Yeomyeong couldn't bring himself to point this out. It was because of the unique position Miraj held within Haninhae.

'...Of all people, she had to catch the President's eye.'

A woman who had suddenly appeared barely a fortnight ago, introducing herself as Miraj, a priestess from another world. In the reception room, she had spoken of the world beyond the gate. She described the scenery that lay beyond the colors of the alternate dimension, a path previously thought to be a point of no return. She claimed that instead of this ruined, defiled world, there existed a world where gods and magic breathed. She asserted that she had come from that world to pursue a criminal.

Naturally, no one in Haninhae believed her. Madmen were common in this day and age. They simply thought her Awakened ability and delusions had manifested in a peculiar way. Unique abilities were a given for Awakened individuals, and the self-proclaimed 'common tongue of another world' she often spoke was highly likely to be some foreign language.

But one man was different. He was captivated by the power she called holy magic. His heart wavered at the secretly promised reward. Perhaps, from the very beginning, the priestess had only one target.

Lee Seokin. The President of Haninhae. He was utterly enchanted by her silver tongue.

After that, everything progressed rapidly. Having won the President's favor, the woman was instantly granted an unrivaled status within Haninhae. Her official title was Chief of Staff. Though the authority to appoint lay solely with the President, it was a hollow position that had remained vacant until now. The President handed that position over to the priestess from another world.

Of course, because it was such a critical matter, the formal appointment had not been finalized. Yeomyeong and others had fought tooth and nail to block it. However, given the President's firm resolve, it was an appointment bound to happen eventually. Thus, the 'otherworld theory' preached by the priestess established itself as truth within Haninhae.

The favoritism toward the priestess did not stop there. Every budget the President could independently allocate was poured into her 'research.' In just a few days, the annex building, which had been used by the Social Welfare Department, was transformed into the priestess's private laboratory.

'I barely managed to get an appointment today... It's only been a few days since she took over, and she's already changed so much.'

Yeomyeong looked around as he climbed the stairs of the annex. The walls were covered with mysterious patterns and symbols.

God. Observation. Connection. Communion.

The otherworld language he had learned from the priestess allowed him to translate the meanings in fragments. He still couldn't understand what they truly meant.

Continuing up the stairs, he reached the top floor of the annex. There she was. The ruinous priestess who had bewitched the President. A woman with short pink hair fluttering, tracing golden light with her fingertips.

Clearing his throat to make his presence known, Yeomyeong spoke.

"May I enter?"

Fluent words of the otherworld's common tongue flowed from Yeomyeong's mouth. It was the common tongue he had naturally mastered through his Acquisition ability just by listening to Miraj speak.

At this, Miraj turned her head and replied.

"Ah, yes! Of course. Come on in, Oppa!"

She answered in perfect Korean. With a beaming smile, she opened the glass door. With theatrical, exaggerated gestures, she ushered Yeomyeong inside, acting as if she didn't care at all about having refused to see him for days.

Yeomyeong hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. The moment he entered, a wave of sweltering heat washed over him. Geometric patterns engraved in golden light were resonating with one another, generating the heat.

"Oops, sorry! It must be hot. Since we're so far from Order, pulling her authority requires this kind of tedious setup. Look, even I'm sweating like crazy."

Miraj shook her head like a wet dog. Her vibrant pink hair swayed, scattering droplets of sweat. A few drops landed on Yeomyeong. Seeing this, the priestess gasped dramatically and pulled out a handkerchief as if she had prepared it beforehand.

"Ah, my bad! I heard people here say 'sorry~' in times like this? My apologies. Let me wipe it off."

Miraj stepped forward, reaching out without hesitation. It was a self-centered action, completely disregarding the other person's reaction. Yeomyeong took a step back and replied.

"It's fine. And... only the President uses such outdated slang."

"Aha, is that so? Sorry~!"

"..."

Yeomyeong was left speechless by her persistently playful attitude. Considering her behavior when they first met, she was certainly neither foolish nor naive. Yet, whenever they met and spoke, she always maintained this demeanor. Exaggerated playfulness. What was the purpose of this act? What was she hiding behind it? If this woman were to harm even the slightest bit of order that Haninhae had managed to establish...

Yeomyeong glared at Miraj as if interrogating her. A mysterious woman who had bewitched the President. Naturally, his gaze was far from friendly.

Perhaps finding Yeomyeong's piercing gaze uncomfortable, the priestess changed the subject.

"Ah, more importantly. Aren't you curious, Oppa? About what I'm trying to do? Everyone who comes here is dying to know."

It was a deliberate shift in topic. However, since Yeomyeong had no intention of having a showdown right here, he played along. Since it was his first time inside the laboratory, it was also true that he harbored some curiosity.

"...I am curious. What is all this for?"

"Fufu. This is... drumroll, please... me utilizing my authority to its absolute limit!"

"...?"

"What! What a weak reaction!"

"I don't know what kind of reaction you expect from me."

"I mean, like, 'Whoa!' Marvel at it! Do you have any idea how amazing this magic circle is, both theologically and magically?!"

"..."

"Now, look. You've learned the common tongue, so you should have some idea. Here. This is the authority bestowed upon me by Order. Mercury. The authority of communication, communion, and connection."

Yeomyeong turned his head following Miraj's hand gestures. He scanned the shimmering golden magic circles one by one.

"See how fluent I am in Korean? That's also the authority of the great Order. It's also possible to connect with others and conceal one's presence. But... the real deal is something else."

Miraj's hand pointed toward the ceiling.

"Here. There is something in this world. An incredibly massive existence. A gaze so astounding it could be called a god... I was attempting to commune with it."

At some point, the fake smile had vanished from her face. Staring at the ceiling with an ecstatic expression, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she spoke clearly in a refined voice.

"To commune with something that might be even greater than Order... Ehehe. I'll have to make good use of it, won't I?"

There was absolute conviction embedded in Miraj's giggling demeanor. For a brief moment, an aura powerful enough to overwhelm Yeomyeong emanated from the priestess. However, Yeomyeong inwardly sneered at her fanaticism.

'Hah. A god. As if a god could exist in a world like this.'

The priestess's experiment was utterly useless. It had to be. A massive existence watching over this world? A god? If such a thing existed, there was no way the world would be in this state. There would be no such imbalance where the wicked enjoy power and the righteous are persecuted. Even if he conceded a hundred steps and assumed all of Miraj's words were true, and that gods truly existed beyond the gate, there would be no god in this world.

'In the end, it will just end as a meaningless waste of budget.'

Because the President showed overwhelming trust in her, he couldn't openly discuss Miraj's failure, but Yeomyeong looked at the priestess with cold, dead eyes.

As if completely indifferent to his gaze, Miraj belatedly added.

"Ah, so why did you come to see me, Oppa?"

"..."

Yeomyeong swallowed hard at her words. Reporting his duties to a nepotistic appointee. It felt contrary to order. He certainly didn't want to do it, and wished to gloss over it as much as possible, but since the President had ordered it, he slightly bowed his head and spoke.

"I have come to report the failure of the mission. We failed to capture the Saintess you mentioned before."

He spoke, fully expecting to be reprimanded. Surprisingly, however, Miraj replied as if she didn't care much.

"Ah, really? Aw, what a shame. I hope you succeed next time."

Though she feigned disappointment, her voice carried not a shred of sincerity. She was completely different from how she had been on her first day at Haninhae. Back then, she had passionately argued that the Saintess of the cult was an otherworld criminal and that she absolutely had to capture her herself. Thanks to that, the nature of the missions regarding the cult had changed significantly—shifting from continuous scouting and rescue to an all-out war to capture their leader.

Having failed such a mission, he had expected some form of reprimand, yet her reaction was strangely lukewarm. Yeomyeong felt a sense of doubt.

Perhaps noticing Yeomyeong's suspicion, Miraj quickly explained.

"Ah, my research is going much better than expected, you see. To the point where I think I might ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be able to handle it myself without you having to capture her! So you don't have to feel too pressured!"

"...No. We will proceed with the capture operation again in the future. I will make sure we do not fail next time."

"Well, that works too!" Miraj replied with a smile.

Having finished his report, Yeomyeong immediately turned around and headed for the exit. He found no reason to remain in this worthless laboratory any longer.

"Oh, what? Oppa, are you leaving already? No way! I still have so much more to explain about the magic circle!"

The priestess let out a fake shriek. Yeomyeong didn't bother to reply and left the building. As if her scream had indeed been a joke, Miraj didn't go out of her way to block his path. She merely stared at Yeomyeong's retreating back and muttered ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in a voice too quiet to be heard.

—What a shame. If only I could have dragged it out a bit longer, I would have gotten better results.

Leaving the annex, Yeomyeong headed back to the dormitory building. The sky had grown dark before he knew it. Yeomyeong let out a sigh into the empty air.

"Haa..."

Why had he been sighing so much lately? He questioned himself as he walked. Was it because of Miraj's unpleasant, fake attitude? Or was it because of the priestess's laboratory, which was kept uncomfortably hot enough to make one sweat?

While those factors certainly had some influence... the biggest reason was undoubtedly the child he was about to meet.

Yeomyeong took a deep breath and entered the dormitory building. After checking to make sure he didn't smell of sweat, he pulled on the door of the room right next to his, rather than his own.

*Clack.*

The locked door rattled. Without hesitation, Yeomyeong pulled a paperclip from his pocket. The mastery of skills obtained through *Acquisition* varied. The reason Yeomyeong carried a blade was because his mastery of swordsmanship was higher than his marksmanship. In that sense, lockpicking was a field where his *Acquisition* manifested surprisingly well.

*Click.*

With the touch of an experienced craftsman, Yeomyeong unlocked the door.

The room was dark. The faint moonlight filtering through the window was the only illumination. Of course, that alone was enough to make out the figure in the corner of the bed.

A girl, practically buried among four cats, her head resting on her knees.

"..."

Yeomyeong looked at the girl, who still seemed to have no energy. He thought about saying something, but quickly gave up. They had talked over the past few days, but their conversations always ran in parallel lines. Now was not the time for talk.

Instead, the young man rummaged through his pockets. Candies he had obtained while raiding the Candy Gang. He pulled out a few of the hidden treats.

*Rustle.*

Without a word, Yeomyeong placed the candies beside the girl.

"Tell me if you need more. I'll bring you some."

Afterward, Yeomyeong reached out and tidied up a few things in the room. He cleared away the empty dishes from the distributed meals and drew the curtains to block out the moonlight. Only after creating an environment suitable for sleep did he finally turn around.

As the young man pulled the door to leave, a fragile voice called out from behind him.

"...Mister, why are you so nice to me?"

"Hmm?"

"It's weird. You dragged me here by force. You don't even believe me when I say the Angel Sister is a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠good person. You have no intention of listening to what I say... so why are you trying to be nice to me?"

Yeomyeong couldn't easily answer the girl's earnest question. Not believing Nisyona's words? To Yeomyeong, it was a natural judgment. A child who had been staying with an otherworld cult whose language she couldn't even speak. There was no way such a child could properly grasp the cult's true nature. In the cult's movements, which seemed so familiar with Seoul's geography and environment, there was surely something hidden that the girl didn't know.

Yet, if asked why he cared more about Nisyona than the others they had rescued together...

"Well... in the past, I had a younger sister who was a lot like you. There was an old man named Shin Noin who raised me, and she was a child he brought in."

Choosing his words carefully, Yeomyeong replied in a low voice.

"We were practically adoptive siblings. We stayed together for quite a long time. For some reason, looking at you reminds me of her. Maybe because your hair color and vibe are a bit similar."

"...What happened to her?"

Yeomyeong spoke calmly.

"She died. She was dragged away by a gang boss."

"..."

"..."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. It's all in the past."

"Still..."

"It's fine. It's late, so go to sleep. Make sure you cover yourself with the blanket. Cats have high body temperatures, but by tomorrow morning, they'll all wander off on their own anyway."

"...Okay."

Soon, a rustling sound was heard. The warrior's highly developed senses detected the girl unwrapping a candy and crawling under the blanket.

Yes. For now, this was enough.

Yeomyeong quietly closed Nisyona's door and stepped out. He returned to his own room and began preparing for bed.

That night.

Yeomyeong, who was sleeping alone, woke up to a sudden presence. By the time he opened his eyes, the intruder had already vanished. His physical condition had been strangely poor ever since he met Miraj. That seemed to be the reason.

"..."

Yeomyeong reached out and lit a candle. In the spot where he had felt the presence, a single note lay on the table—something that hadn't been there before he went to sleep.

Written in crooked, uneven handwriting that looked as if someone were writing Korean for the very first time, making it feel all the more alien, were two lines of text.

Reading the paper, Yeomyeong's brow furrowed deeply.