Chapter 211
Chapter 211
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 211
Chapter Title: Jerusalem Plan (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Rome, Vatican.
In the Pope's office on the top floor, with a clear view overlooking St. Peter's Square.
The Pope paced back and forth across the room standing up, as if he'd tucked his dignity and prestige between the pages of a Bible for the moment.
Finally, he urgently called out to the cardinal waiting outside in a desperate voice.
“Cardinal. Cardinal! Are you out there?”
“Ah, yes. Your Holiness. What is it?”
Was it because he'd been put through the wringer by the Pope so many times? The cardinal looked a bit gaunt.
The Pope didn't seem to care about his appearance at all and immediately fired off a question.
“Ahem, has there been any contact from that man by any chance?”
“Y-Your Holiness… You've already asked the same thing five times today.”
“Cardinal! Don't you know this is the kind of thing worth asking ten, twenty times?”
That man.
The name of the man who cried out as if testifying to his faith with an impassioned voice was none other than.
“From Israel through Saudi Arabia all the way to America already! Didn't Seo-jun Han, that great young man, personally walk the path of asceticism to spread the Gospel of Christ?”
The Pope, blinded by the sweet prospect of expanding Catholic influence. The cardinal, who had to watch all of this, clutched the back of his neck and barely suppressed his rising blood pressure.
“For starters, Chairman Han Seo-jun isn't a Christian…”
“That's not the point right now! Find out quickly. What happened in Washington D.C. And what his next move will be—everything!”
“Sigh… Understood, Your Holiness.”
A childish tantrum at the ripe old age of sixty.
As the cardinal closed the office door and slipped out, the Pope's mutter landed in his ear.
“If Chairman Han Seo-jun dies, I might have to push for sainthood for him later. Heh heh heh.”
Truly, the cardinal's job was nothing short of extreme.
Walking down the corridor lined with marble statues of Catholicism's true saints, he began venting to his subordinate bishop.
“…Sigh, this is driving me mad.”
“His Holiness seems to have particularly high expectations.”
“Ugh, that's the problem—they're too high. My head's throbbing like crazy.”
The cardinal rubbed his temples.
The Pope's excessive excitement was giving him a real headache.
He pulled out a cigarette, exhaled a long plume of smoke out the window, brushed the ash off his black clerical robe, and said.
“To be honest, I get it to some extent. It's something that could revive the Catholic Church.”
“This must be the Lord's guidance as well. Don't you think so?”
“Whew, yeah. It has to be. Hm?”
And at that moment.
With a cold wind blowing in from outside, a priest hurried toward the bishop.
He wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead, handed over a document, and immediately headed toward the Pope's office.
“What's that? It's a priest from the secretariat. What's got him running like that?”
“Um… Your Eminence.”
Tak, tak, tak. Against the backdrop of footsteps echoing down the corridor, the bishop's voice trembled cautiously.
The cardinal tilted his head, and the bishop, tearing his eyes from the document, spoke with a tense expression.
“It looks like that sainthood thing His Holiness was muttering about earlier… It might actually happen.”
“Hm? What do you…?”
The cardinal's head now sported a question mark. Instead of answering, the bishop unfolded the last page of the document he'd just received and held it out.
“No, this… this is!”
The cardinal's eyes bulged.
Since he already knew the full context, he didn't need to read the entire document to understand.
He knew what the message from the so-called 'that man,' added like a P.S. on the last page, meant for the entire Catholic Church.
-[Jerusalem Plan]. All the keys have been gathered. I hope Your Holiness can come to Jerusalem soon.
The moment a mere fantasy became reality. The cardinal's hand trembled as he gripped the document.
“Heavens, to think he actually solved this impossible puzzle…”
From far down the corridor, cheers erupted, suggesting the Pope had already been informed of the same content.
The revival of the Catholic Church. And that… in the symbolic space of Jerusalem, with the apparent assistance of the U.S. Secretary of State, in a ceremony.
Imagining the scene that would soon unfold in Jerusalem, far to the east of the Vatican, the cardinal placed his hand on a marble statue of some nameless saint.
With the thought that perhaps… the empty spot next to it might one day hold a statue of a non-Christian.
“Is this the birth of the first Korean saint? A saint from an atheist background? Unbelievable.”
* * * *
“Aigoo, really. Who's badmouthing me? Why are my ears itching like this?”
“Badmouthing? Who would dare badmouth our Chairman Han.”
Inside the airplane.
Right now, on the flight from Washington D.C. in America to Jerusalem. The person sitting next to me wasn't Uncle Kim Won-cheol or Aide Yoo Se-na… it was the political demon and approval-rating enthusiast, the President.
“Bring them here right now. I've got a sturdy oak tree on the back mountain of the Blue House. One word from me, and a solid club will be presented immediately.”
“No need to beat anyone. We don't even know who it is…”
The President, thrilled at having solved the complex Middle East equation alongside the Pope's visit to Korea.
His eyes practically sparkled as he stuck to my side like a fixture, freely displaying his rough, manly affection.
“That's how much I treasure my Chairman Han. How does such a lucky charm perfectly align with my term?”
Well, he'd gained quite a bit politically from sticking with me.
Especially in this case… it was certain to greatly impact the next presidential election.
The President moistened his lips with champagne from a full glass. He handed me one too and spoke.
“The man who unites Catholicism, Islam, and Judaism, and safeguards Middle East security with the [Peace Track].”
Clink. Two glasses lightly touched in the air.
Burdened by the heavy atmosphere and the booze. And then the President's words made it even more burdensome for me.
“Our Chairman Han Seo-jun, who flipped U.S. foreign policy with a single word.”
“Ah, it's burdensome, I said. Please.”
“Hey, no need for humility. If you're ever interested in politics later, just let me know. Looks like you've got a nice title coming your way anyway.”
Title.
This is why you shouldn't speak carelessly.
Back in Rome, I'd jokingly bantered with Uncle Kim Won-cheol about the Nobel Peace Prize or whatever. Who knew it'd become reality.
The President waved an official document from the Nobel Committee in front of my eyes and read each letter aloud with a voice brimming with pride.
“Nobel Peace Prize nominee: Han. Seo. Jun.”
“P-President. Please…”
“Just being a nominee is such a huge honor. Isn't it?”
Fortunately, that embarrassingly heavenly moment didn't drag on.
As I felt the altitude gradually dropping, Policy Director Park Dong-hee approached the President's side.
“Your Excellency, we're almost there. Would you like to look out the window at the view below?”
“Ah, Director Park. Yeah, let's do that.”
This lapdog of a man.
Seeing me monopolize the President's attention, he must have felt the need to step up.
He flung open the closed window cover and prepared to grovel in his usual fussy tone.
“Kuh, that's the holy land's highest peak, the city of Jerusalem. Your Excellency, my heart is pounding right now.”
“Heh heh. You and your heart—why's it racing again?”
“There, beneath the golden roof of the Temple: Catholics, Muslims, Jews. Representatives of three religions. The U.S. Secretary of State. And right in the center…”
Truly, Policy Director Park Dong-hee lived up to his nickname of human bidet.
Pointing at the President as deferentially as possible with his palm, he spoke in a trembling voice.
“Is our esteemed President!”
“Heh heh, Director Park, always overdoing it.”
“Rising national prestige! And soon, the Pope's visit to Korea! This is all thanks to Your Excellency keeping Chairman Han Seo-jun by your side!”
Normally, I'd frown at such a barrage of flattery. But right now, it was a savior freeing me from the burden. I quietly shut my mouth, using the flattery as background music while gazing out the window.
‘Truly an impressive guy. Him too. Anyway.’
The altitude had dropped low enough that individual buildings were now visible.
Thud. I felt the plane's wheels touch the runway, and finally… the jolt signaling the end of this long journey enveloped my body.
‘Uncle Kim Won-cheol hasn't contacted me. What's going on?’
Uncle Kim Won-cheol was supposed to have joined me by now.
But for some reason, after returning to Korea once, he showed no signs of coming back out.
He'd only sent a short message: Let's talk after this is all over.
“Hm…”
My pensive look must have been misinterpreted in a different way.
As the plane slowly shut down its engines and came to a stop, the President suddenly grabbed my hand and stood up.
“Wha—President? What's this all of a sudden…?”
With a flushed face like a kindergartener on a field trip, the President glanced at the reporters waiting at the airport and flashed a bright smile, saying.
“Come on! Let's go make some history! Don't forget to hold hands when we go out and raise them high above our heads. V-sign!”
“Uh—huh?”
The President, strong even at sixty, had impressive grip strength.
Half-dragged out, I struck the V-sign pose in front of the reporters while thinking to myself.
-Click! Click! Click!
“MBS Reporter Kim Cheol-su here. A word from you, Mr. President!”
“Thank you! Thank you, everyone! Long live the Republic of Korea! Long live peace! I'm overjoyed to be here with Chairman Han Seo-jun!”
For now… far off, I could see Crown Prince Bin Salman, the Israeli envoy, Secretary Yang Wenli, and even the Pope.
I needed to wrap up this convoluted equation we'd unraveled together with those four first.
Only then, back in Korea, could I focus without outside distractions and deal with this ominous feeling hanging in the air.