Chapter 141
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 141
Meanwhile, Ju-hyeon…
“…”
“Kkooo.”
“…I’ll carry that.”
He was currently being treated to snacks by the Teddy Bear.
“Is this fruit tea?”
“Kkoo.”
“It has a lovely aroma. Thank you for going to all this trouble for me.”
“Kkoo-kkoo-kkoo…”
“And from now on, I’ll prepare my own food, if that’s alright with you,” he added. “I don’t mean to carelessly use the kitchen, which the owner of this house seems to treasure. But surely I can at least bring over food that has already been prepared?”
Ju-hyeon offered his signature amiable smile, taking care not to offend the great mysteries residing in this place.
“It feels impolite to only receive help from an elder like you.”
“Kkoo?”
“If there’s anything else you need me to do, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
The Teddy Bear tilted its head in confusion but nodded as if it understood.
I was worried it might get angry, thinking I was rejecting its hospitality, but fortunately, that doesn’t seem to be the case.
Ju-hyeon knew that even if it looked like an ordinary teddy bear, the being residing within was anything but. Was this not the entity whom the Black Cloak called “Father”? It felt incredibly uncomfortable to merely sit back and be served by such a great elder.
It’s a relief that I can interact with a being from a place like this to some extent, but…
Ju-hyeon fell silent for a moment, staring at the brilliantly shimmering fruit tea before him.
“…”
He wasn’t sure if he should consider this a relief at all.
Is it really safe to drink?
He had eaten and drunk without issue so far, but that didn’t mean he was entirely without worry.
No matter how I look at it, this place is too far removed from the human realm.
Among dimensions, there were those where humans could live and those where great existences like gods could reside.
It’s incredibly surprising that it takes the form of a forest cabin that an ordinary person like me—who isn’t even a Hunter—can perceive, but even so…
In Ju-hyeon’s estimation, this place was undeniably closer to the latter. It was a dimension inhabited by mysteries, not humans.
And since ancient times, the act of consumption has been treated as a ritual.
Legends of mortals eating food from a divine realm and experiencing wondrous mysteries were common. To consume something was to step one foot into the dimension to which that food belonged.
“…I think I’ve eaten quite a lot already…”
“Kkooo?”
“I’ll still be able to walk out of here as a human, right?”
This was what Ju-hyeon truly worried about. The favor of a god alters a human.
No matter the scale or direction of that change, such things can never be entirely safe for a mortal.
Just as most of the Saints and Saintesses on Earth lived in agony, barely clinging to life, there was no telling how Ju-hyeon might be swept away by the goodwill shown by the Black Cloak and his family.
Of course, it’s better than earning their hostility, but…
After hesitating for a long time, Ju-hyeon finally drank the fruit tea. It wasn’t simply a matter of manners, of not rejecting what had been offered.
He let out a hollow laugh.
“…It’s still delicious.”
It was an ecstatic taste, one that made him understand why so many humans in legends were bewitched by food and lost their ability to make proper judgments. Combined with a gentle spring breeze that felt steeped in flowers, the sweet fruit tea melted softly on his tongue.
Yes, I am still human.
There was an Anti-Cat named Dana here. She particularly loathed humans, and whenever she saw Ju-hyeon, she would either avoid him or hiss at him. That was proof that Ju-hyeon was still human.
Though for some reason, her aversion has been gradually fading over time…
He didn’t want to think of it as an omen.
We’re probably just getting used to each other after seeing each other for so long. I haven’t found anything strange when I check myself, so I want to believe there’s no major issue.
Ju-hyeon blinked slowly.
“…”
Though he had once contemplated giving up entirely, now that things had turned out this way, he had absolutely no intention of abandoning his humanity.
“…I will leave as soon as I’m ready. I must.”
“Kkoo.”
“Because an ordinary human like me can’t stay here forever.”
Humans had to live among other humans, living like humans. That was Ju-hyeon’s belief.
“Though it’s quite ironic that even if I leave this place, I probably won’t be able to live like a human…”
Having known the world before the Great Catastrophe, Ju-hyeon remembered what it meant to “live like a human.” One had the right to be with people who loved and cherished them, and there were opportunities to grow naturally through the fortunes and misfortunes that came one’s way. When the strong cooperated to protect the weak, humanity achieved its most ideal form.
“…Well.”
Ju-hyeon gave an embarrassed smile, as if he found his own thoughts amusing.
“I’m aware that the future I want is far too idealistic.”
“Kkooo?”
“Mr. Gio asked me if I wanted to achieve world peace or something, and I think that might actually be it.”
“…”
“Because if we could bring even a fraction of that into reality, the world would be so much better than it is now…”
A dream was a dream. Humans called it a “dream” because they knew they couldn’t achieve it perfectly, yet believed they could at least strive for it. The future Ju-hyeon desired was no different. To grasp even a piece of such a mirage, one needed a corresponding strength of will. Passion, conviction, hope—the fuel that drove humans to burn through their short lives.
“But right now, I don’t have any motivation. That’s probably why I’m lingering here instead of leaving. It’s pathetic.”
He had lost too much and felt too much skepticism.
“I don’t know what I want to do anymore.”
He already knew all too well that effort didn’t always guarantee a reward. If this were a world where good people received respect and good fortune, Ju-hyeon wouldn’t have had to abandon his family name. If those who produced results received their due, Ju-hyeon would have held a position much higher than a mere assistant manager.
He had been fine with all of that. Even if his pace was slow, even if he sometimes took steps backward or came to a halt, he believed he was still moving forward, little by little.
“…But now, I just feel so empty inside…”
And just like that, he had lost everything.
“…”
“…”
“…That wasn’t a very interesting story, was it?” Ju-hyeon shrugged. “I think I need some time to think.”
In truth, Ju-hyeon knew very well what he had to do. To do that “thinking,” he first had to deal with the emptiness inside him. Having experienced misfortune and overcome it several times before, he knew the steps to get back on his feet.
But right now, I don’t even have the energy to walk out of here on my own two feet…
Wearing his characteristic smile, Ju-hyeon asked the Teddy Bear, “Would that be alright?”
“Kkooo.”
Climbing onto the dining table, the Teddy Bear patted Ju-hyeon’s head, then climbed back down.
“Kkoo-kkoo, kkoo.”
“…I can’t quite understand you.”
“Kkooo.”
It patted Ju-hyeon’s thigh once more, then left the cabin with the Anti-Cat. Seeing the bag of treats clamped in the cat’s mouth, it seemed they planned on spending time on the cabin bench again.
It felt as though they were deliberately giving Ju-hyeon his space.
“…”
Suddenly, skepticism washed over him once more.
…Even non-human beings show me this much consideration.
Why did I ever dream?
For whom, and for what?
* * *
Arriving at the Temple of Death, Gio blinked twice.
“…It’s more modest than I expected.”
“It’s not a very popular order,” Yoo Seong-un replied.
“It’s not just that…” Gio tilted his head slightly. “It seems to have a very strong Korean character.”
When people thought of temples, they usually imagined Renaissance-style architecture. Both the Sun Cult’s Seoul Branch and Giovanni’s Sun Cult brought to mind buildings of pure white marble, so this was quite novel.
“Isn’t it a hanok?”
“As I mentioned on the way here, this God of Death is an indigenous god of Earth. There’s at least one Temple of Death in almost every country. Korea is no exception.”
“So they emphasized local characteristics? To show that it’s an indigenous god of Earth by building it in the form of a hanok?”
“Among the Temples of Death, Korea’s put a particularly large amount of effort into the building’s exterior. Perhaps it’s because this is the only temple with a manifestation body of Death. Though I doubt that was something the God of Death himself requested…”
Locking the car doors, Yoo Seong-un continued, “This was the world’s first case of officially recognizing an Evil God as a formal religious order. Because of that, the public backlash was severe at first, and the local residents protested fiercely. It was treated as an undesirable facility.”
“An undesirable facility.”
“It’s the God of Death, after all. To the people of that time, who had been tormented by gods, they didn’t have the luxury to care about providence or anything else.”
“How unexpected.” Yoo Seong-un’s words made it sound as though there had been a time when gods directly tormented humans. Gio, who had once been a priest himself, asked, “Tormented by gods?”
“The distinction between traditional gods and Evil Gods wasn’t established all that long ago. Before, the gods interfered so much in human lives that there were countless disasters, both big and small.”
“Disasters, big and small.”
“For instance, if you said something a god didn’t like, they might strike you down with divine punishment. Or they would forcibly erect their own temples on Earth. Well, they are beings with no reason or desire to show consideration for humans, so it was only natural.”
“Is it not like that now?”
“We succeeded in preventing excessive divine interference, with the Symbols of Eternity at the center of the effort. You could say we artificially accelerated a process that would have sorted itself out over time.”
Yoo Seong-un waved his hand dismissively. “The explanation for that is too long. To put it simply: nowadays, even gods have to make a significant investment to intervene in the human realm.”
“So those who dislike making investments won’t carelessly intervene. I understand, Mr. Yoo,” Gio nodded. “I used to wonder why my father couldn’t easily interfere in human lives, but I didn’t know such measures had been put in place.”
“It probably wasn’t properly handled back when gods from dead-end dimensions were constantly peering in. At least the Symbols of Eternity stepped forward to resolve the issue…” Yoo Seong-un shrugged. “We blocked excessive divine intervention, but it’s not like those great mysteries disappeared. Those who were highly interested in Earth continued to show interest.”
“Is the God of Death one of them?”
“He’s an indigenous god of Earth, so he probably had no desire to look at other dimensions anyway. At any rate, among those gods, there were many mysteries that were actually helpful to humans.”
“It must not have been easy for humans to accept that.”
“You understand well. But it’s not like existing gods would just vanish, and coexistence with these mysteries was an inevitable future. So, the government took some measures.”
The Temple of Death was a prime example. Yoo Seong-un pointed toward the modestly sized hanok.
“They reduced the size of the building and added Korean elements.”
“Was that effective?”
“It clearly conveyed that this god is an indigenous deity of our Earth. Though that doesn’t mean the God of Death belongs solely to Korea…”
“Still, it must have felt special to Koreans. Like running into a childhood friend from your hometown in a completely different region.”
“You could say it’s similar.”
The unexpectedly styled, moderately sized hanok momentarily disarmed the fiercely protesting public. In the meantime, the government turned the tide by offering various benefits to the local residents.
“You could say it was a successful marketing campaign. Back then, so many people were dying and things were in such disarray, but the Temple of Death stepped in to personally oversee those funerals.”
People who had lost family or friends, those facing imminent death, or those in similarly perilous environments—to them, having their funerals personally overseen by the temple where the God of Death himself resided carried immense appeal.
“When you’re desperate and heartbroken, having a funeral overseen by the God of Death—who was officially recognized by the government and the Association—makes a difference. Evil God or not, people couldn’t help but pray for mercy.”
“Still, they could have rejected it to the very end. The public perception of the government and the Association must have been very good. Since people already had great faith in facilities declared safe by them, such an initiative was able to succeed.”
“You’re right. The government and the Association command great trust from the people. It would have been difficult for anyone to refuse to trust the God of Death when they were promoting him so extensively.” Yoo Seong-un nodded. “The God of Death’s cooperation played a huge part in that as well. Perhaps because he’s an indigenous god of Earth, he fundamentally cherishes Earthlings. He’s also not the type to meddle in human affairs…”
“I heard he has a manifestation body?”
“After the Great Catastrophe, an environment suitable for creating a manifestation body was established, and death was occurring so frequently back then. I suppose he thought it was the right time for an indigenous god to show himself.”
“The right time.”
“I don’t know the exact details either. Nor why he chose to stay in Korea, of all places. Stories of gods aren’t exactly my specialty, and the God of Death is incredibly quiet… He rarely reacts to anything other than observing the world through his manifestation body.”
With a mild smile, Yoo Seong-un guided Gio forward.
“Shall we head in?”
“Sure.”
As they approached the temple entrance, a gatekeeper holding a spear asked, “Are you Hunter Yoo Seong-un?”
“Yes, I applied for a private prayer room today.”
“I will guide you inside.”
Shortly after, a priest in pure white robes emerged from inside the temple. Their hair was tied back, their eyes were covered with a white cloth, and in their left hand, they held a round, white lantern. The priest’s robes, which carried a distinct Korean aesthetic, made it difficult to discern their gender.
The priest spoke in an androgynous voice. “I will guide you.”
“Please do,” Yoo Seong-un replied.
The interior of the temple was extremely dark, and the floor was covered in shallow water. It wasn’t stagnant; it flowed quietly in all directions like a living creature. The priest moved their feet as if communicating with the flow of the water.
“Follow me.”
It was so dark that ordinary people would struggle to see an inch ahead, which was why almost no one truly knew the layout of the Temple of Death’s interior. Visitors could only navigate by watching their guide’s lantern and white robes.
Perhaps because he had emerged formally through a portrait frame, unlike his previous exit from the Vein of Jewels, Gio was also unable to see clearly in the darkness due to his ongoing synchronization.
“…”
However, the procession of priests carrying white lanterns through the darkness looked like paper lanterns floating over a lake on a dark night.
“This is the prayer room assigned to Brother Yoo Seong-un today.”
“Thank you for guiding us.”
“And… if I may be so bold?”
“…”
Yoo Seong-un glanced at Gio, then nodded. “What is it?”
“The Bishop requests an audience.” The priest bowed deeply and continued, “Father has opened his eyes.”
“…Are you saying an oracle has been delivered?”
“He wished to speak with the guest visiting today.”
“I doubt I am the guest he wishes to speak with.”
“That is correct.”
“He’s more proactive than I thought,” Yoo Seong-un murmured, turning to Gio. “What do you want to do?”
“Well,” Gio said, then asked the priest, “Does he wish to become friends with me?”
“…” The priest remained silent for a moment before speaking. “…Forgive me, nameless divinity. I have not heard of such a thing.”
“You are afraid of me.”
“If my humble service has displeased you, I offer my deepest apologies.”
“I wish you wouldn’t be afraid.” A vivid red smile played on Gio’s lips. “Making friends is quite difficult, isn’t it?”
The priest did not dare to answer.
* * *
“…”
“…I will guide you.”
“Please do.”
Everyone is afraid of me.
Isn’t this also a form of being a nuisance?
Gio felt troubled.