'No Way. There's Someone Else I Suspect...'

"No way. There's someone else I suspect..." I gave a light chuckle and shook my head. It was a forced smile, but it would look like a natural one slipping out unwittingly. In awkward or embarrassing situations, I had to manage my expressions even more carefully—and I was confident in doing just that.

Gu Jun-hyeok stared at me silently, trying to read between the lines, then finally let out a belated sigh of relief.

"Right? I mean... not sure how to put it, but lately when I'm around you, there's this weird vibe."

"What vibe?"

"Like you're keeping your distance or something... Nah, what the hell am I even saying? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Forget it, it's fine as long as it's not that."

Gu Jun-hyeok's instincts were spot on. Ever since I started suspecting him of being a Satanist, I'd been treating him more distantly, whether I meant to or not. I could fake my expressions and tone, but I couldn't hide the subtle hostility and doubt in my gaze. He'd picked up on the atmosphere and realized he was under suspicion.

Was he always this quick on the uptake...? Nah, he always has been. He just never acted on it before.

Gu Jun-hyeok was great at reading the room but had no idea how to use it to his advantage.

"Honestly, I did have my suspicions. But—"

"What? The fuck why?"

"Hear me out. After seeing your mom hit with that black magic yesterday, I figured it couldn't be you."

'I did have suspicions' was true, but 'yesterday cleared it up' was a lie. Mixing truth with lies was a basic trick, but basic meant proven effective.

Bringing up his mother darkened Gu Jun-hyeok's expression slightly. He chewed through the side dish of seasoned namul without any meat, then downed a full glass of water before speaking.

"Yesterday... yeah, that reminds me of something I should mention."

He looked like he was about to drop some bombshell. I took a sip of water to soothe my parched throat. While he hesitated, I glanced around and spotted someone watching us from afar. I thought it was Jeong In-ah at first, but it was Yeo Min-seo. She was glaring at us with wide eyes, surveilling our conversation.

Gu Jun-hyeok fidgeted anxiously, glancing around and fiddling with his utensils, before finally speaking up.

"My mom... she was in the Satanist cult back in the day."

"...What?"

"More precisely, some knockoff group pretending to be Romanica but actually Satanists. Same difference. Whether she got tricked into it or joined willingly, a Satanist cult is still a Satanist cult."

His tone carried a cold resignation. Trying to lighten the mood, he flashed a bright grin and continued.

"She went missing for about five months because of it. When we found her, she was like that—didn't even recognize her only son, totally insane."

He tapped his temple with a finger as he said it.

"That's why the Satanists are such shit. They only need to break one person, and the rest fall apart on their own. 'Cause you go crazy trying to cope, right? Remember when you asked what I'd do if I could go back in time?"

"...Yeah, vaguely."

Not exactly, but it rang a bell. I'd said something about making bank on crypto or stocks, and I think he said the same.

"I was half-assing it then... but if I could go back, I'd wipe out the Satanists first. That's why I came to Florence."

It was a pipe dream. The Satanists were spread worldwide, hiding in the shadows with cunning precision. No way time travel would make them vanish easily. Not just them—no religion was that fragile. Romanica had weathered dark ages and bounced back to glory; ancient Voodoo, thought lost to history, had been revived by the first cult leader, my grandfather Do Jun-gil. Religions weren't mere groups or organizations. They were the very spirit of the faithful.

"Yeah, good luck with that."

I didn't bother arguing. Instead, I tossed out an empty encouragement. His eyes, now cold and sharp, burned with a chilling conviction.

A brief silence fell. Gu Jun-hyeok gave a hollow smile.

"...Anyway, getting suspected of being a Satanist is bullshit, so I laid it on thick with the sob story. Take it with a grain of salt, believe it or don't."

"Does Jeong In-ah know?"

"Nah? She's too serious; she'd take it to heart. She gets way too immersed."

He waved it off with exaggerated gestures. He'd told me—someone he'd known only since Florence—but not her, his friend from before. Hard to read his intentions. If he was a Satanist, it was a ploy to deflect suspicion; if not, it meant he trusted me that much. Enough to share his heavy family baggage and feel at ease around me.

I suspected him, but he trusted me. The irony twisted my gut, and considering he might be lying made my head spin even more. The gap between possibilities was a chasm of confusion.

"What were you guys talking about?"

Jeong In-ah showed up then, her hands dangling limp like wet laundry.

A smirk tugged at Gu Jun-hyeok's lips.

"You should've come a bit later. We were trash-talking you."

"Bullshit. You two always talk shit about me?"

"Took you this long to figure it out?"

"Fuck, that guy's poker face is insane..."

Jeong In-ah turned to me, her big round eyes full of doubt. It was prime time for a playful grin to smooth things over, but for some reason, I couldn't muster one. My face stayed rigid, frozen.

"...For real? You guys always talk shit when I'm not around?"

"Hey, no, we were just reminiscing. Never trashed you. Come on, Do Seon-woo, smile or something. You're making it sound legit."

Jeong In-ah pouted, and Gu Jun-hyeok awkwardly backpedaled. But my head was too tangled for expression control. I needed to simplify my thoughts.

Worry crept over Jeong In-ah's initially hurt face.

"You okay? What's wrong? Your face is pale..."

"Nah, just tired. We really were talking old times."

I forced a casual smile. It truly wasn't a big deal—just a heavy head and dry throat.

"Really? I believe you... maybe?"

She eyed us suspiciously, narrowing her gaze, then slinked into a seat. My lost thoughts still wandered aimlessly, each step throbbing in my skull.

*

"It's been exactly two years since you transferred, right?"

"Huh? Yeah... spring two years ago."

For some reason, the topic shifted to ancient history—Gu Jun-hyeok's transfer days. I just listened without chiming in. It was their shared past, one I couldn't touch. Hearing it was fun but left a faint sense of exclusion. Nothing new there.

"If I hadn't been there, you never would've fit in. You owe me big time. Got it?"

"More bullshit. I adapted fine from the start. You almost ruined my school life."

"Ugh, still in denial? I pitied the loner and befriended you, and this is the thanks I get."

Jeong In-ah grinned wide, teasing him. Gu Jun-hyeok let out a disbelieving scoff.

"Hey, let's get facts straight. I was a voluntary loner. Back in Incheon, my nickname was 'Lone Wolf'—"

"Lmao, what a cringey nickname. Puke."

"Yeah, saying it now, it's kinda gross... Wait, where you going?"

Gu Jun-hyeok, mid-story, noticed me standing.

"Gotta take a call."

"Call? ...Who from?"

"Uncle. Staying at his after my place burned down, forgot to tell him I'd eat dinner out."

Jeong In-ah's stiff face softened into a smile. Per my cover story: lost mom in the Holy War, dad abroad on business, crashing at uncle's post-fire. And he really did live at the chapel, so not entirely false.

Outside, I skipped the call for deep breaths instead. Even saying I'd call was a lie. Thoughts kept knotting, consciousness blurring—I needed air to clear my head.

"So what."

Ogoun already despised me—no room for more hate. That's why I couldn't use his power anymore. No choice. I couldn't go blabbing I was the Voodoo cult leader just to borrow it.

Ogoun was too rigid to tolerate even the lies I told for survival.

"...Hey."

Someone called from the restaurant door, plastic bags rustling.

Yeo Min-seo emerged, arms full of trash bags, face slightly crumpled and sweaty. She propped them against a utility pole, wiped sweat with her apron, and approached. Her eyes were blankly vacant, zombie-like.

"How'd you know to come here?"

One eyebrow arched aggressively, like an interrogation. She figured we'd come because we knew she worked here.

A bit absurd, but fair from her side. It was far from school, pricey for students' dinner.

"Know? We just came and boom, there you are."

"Oh, yeah? What kinda bullshit coincidence is this."

She laughed hollowly—unhappy for both smiler and viewer. She stared blankly at the bags, then dropped her gaze to the ground. Slumped shoulders screamed exhaustion.

"...Fine, whatever. This is awkward as fuck, can't work."

"What's awkward?"

"Try it yourself. Work with school kids around? Sweating bullets."

She sighed deeply, hefted the bags. Heavy-looking, but no need to help—she bolstered strength with body-enhancement blessings.

"First time seeing trash duty?"

"Nope."

She glanced slyly, irritably chucked the bag at the bin. It wobbled perilously but righted itself. She'd been deft at grilling too—Yeo Min-seo was damn competent.

"How long you been working?"

No way just a couple months for that skill. At least a year, probably.

She scowled unpleasantly, then relaxed—or reverted to her default blankness.

"A while. Legal only recently."

"How'd you... start?"

I trailed off, not wanting to pry too much.

She undid her hair, retied it, and spoke.

"Rich kids got no wrinkles."

Her lips sneered—not at me, but someone else. Or maybe not even a person.

"Me? Wrinkles for days. Get it?"

"..."

"Hey, and finish eating and bounce already. What's with the long talk?"

She smirked casually, but I didn't answer. Instead, I looked up at the darkening sky. Streetlights flickered on one by one; the brass bell above the door jingled nonstop. Evening crowd filling up.

Yeo Min-seo sighed at the influx, adjusted her apron, and headed in. Half-turning from the half-open door, she glanced back.

"Oh, forgot. Your proposal was solid. Hit me up more?"

"...That's how you ask?"

"Whatever, you get it... Ah, yes. Can I take your order—"

Through the glass, I saw her bow to customers. Sky now pitch black. My day ending, hers just starting.

Satanists drove Gu Jun-hyeok's mom insane. He came to Florence to eradicate them. Poor study attitude, but grades showed he crammed quietly.

Yeo Min-seo alibied after school for living expenses. Top grades, no surprise. School, work, study in scraps of time.

Both lives I'd suspected of Satanism were fiercely lived. Couldn't suspect either—or rather, could but didn't want to. Didn't want to deny even one such gritty existence.

Bzzz, bzzzz... Moths battered the streetlamp over the bin. One, exhausted from endless headbutts, flopped dead to the ground.

*

After tales of Gu Jun-hyeok's middle-school loner days and how he bonded with Jeong In-ah, we left. He paid as promised.

Uncle called as we exited—had stuff for me, when to chapel? Soon, I said, hung up.

Jeong In-ah headed to library for study. Seeing dispersal, Gu Jun-hyeok's regret showed plainly.

"Hey, we're together—wanna hang more?"

"Exams, gotta study. Play after!"

She beamed. He nodded reluctantly.

"True, not last chance... Oh, right. Summer break, beach trip? Us three."

"Beach?"

"Feels like ages. Used to go all the time, beach right there... uh."

He trailed off, rubbing his neck.

"...Not right there? Anyway, day trip?"

Hadn't been in years myself—last with parents as a kid. Sounded good. Jeong In-ah nodded eagerly.

"Yes! But fail exams, no beach. Can't even leave house."

"Why? Don't you live alone?"

"Parents back this break. Fail, grounded..."

She hung her head gloomily. Gu Jun-hyeok chuckled softly.

"Then study hard. Ace it to party guilt-free."

"Don't need telling. I'll crush—at least better than you."

"Yes, ma'am~"

He teased. She pouted.

"Gotta study home too. Lose to Jeong In-ah? I'd be a beast, not human."

"You lost diagnostic to me. You suck at studying."

"...No manners. I don't suck."

They bickered; I smiled quietly. Soon, they to homes, me to chapel. Together at first, then paths split. We parted.

First sight at chapel: Kang Ji-a, at uncle's coffee table, staring at laptop.

"You're late?"

"Dinner with friends. Uncle?"

I scanned—no sign.

She eyed fluctuating graphs.

"Said picking something up. Details..."

Door burst open—uncle, drenched in sweat.

"Here. What's this, Seon-woo? Execs sent it—take it. Fuck, nearly killed my back."

Arms loaded. Reminded of Yeo Min-seo with trash. I helped unload.

Gifts: some in paper boxes, others silver-foil and tape-sealed.

"Exec gifts... offerings, huh."

"Yeah. Chungcheong and Gangwon sent letters too? Read?"

Revived tribute system from last exec meeting bore first fruit. Letters? Yun Chang-su old-school, fine—but Ha Pan-seok why? Better check, especially Yun's—likely Reverse Staff intel.

"Gotta read. Gimme."

"Offerings to altar... or move altar here?"

Uncle stretched, joints cracking. He winced.

"Ow, back popping. Not like old days."

"Rest, uncle. I'll move altar."

"Sweet. Aigo..."

He hobbled to room, groaning.

*

Yun Chang-su's letter, brush-like script elegant. Enclosed Arabic—I couldn't read. Asked Legba.

Thoughtful—Yun worried I'd stir trouble. Touched; he'd supported silently despite my flaws.

His offerings: rare Taebaek herbs.

Granbwa thrilled with offerings, unusually excited.

Next letter: Chungcheong diocese.

Not Ha Pan-seok—Ha Su-yeong, scrawled hastily. Number below. Dialed immediately.

Three rings, click. She picked up.

"This my number, call later if questions."

"Later, not now."

Hung up. She called back—silenced it, laid out Chungcheong offerings: sword, gun, crossbow, armor. All iron; some from Holy War seven years ago. Seoul sparked it, but fiercest in Chungcheong. Tons lost; valuables among relics.

Ha Pan-seok's top-tier. Perfect for Ogoun, iron and war fanatic.

Chilling voice echoed, stirring my mind. Ogoun.

"Not accepting?"

"...Fine, don't. Not my loss."

Kiiiiing—! With his voice, offerings emitted eerie hums. Iron vibrating, clashing—like screams, wails, sobs.

Iron wails swelled in the silence.

(To be continued in the next chapter)