"A Proposal?"
“A proposal?” I echoed, intrigued. I never imagined Ogoun would make me such an offer.
Ogoun's Loa power had grown even stronger in modern times than in the past, thanks to advances in metallurgy, weapon manufacturing, and warfare. What was once limited to swords and armor now extended to firearms and tanks. Even setting aside the severe side effects, gaining access to Ogoun's power was a tremendous advantage for me.
[That's right. You know I don't cling to mere offerings.]
“……”
[I'd gladly accept an offering if you provide one, but taking it without lending my power in return would be shameless. It might even give the impression that I'm a Loa who cheats prophets…]
Ogoun's voice was cold and sharp, but inside, a feverish heat boiled. He wouldn't tolerate even his own actions straying from honesty. At least he was consistent.
That didn't mean I liked his inflexible insistence on rigid integrity.
“So, what's the proposal?”
[I will lend you my power when you finally become honest. We'll handle the offering then, too.]
“What the hell…?”
Kiiiiiiing…
Suddenly, the metals screamed. The eerie, piercing noise scratched at my ears. The air around me felt hotter. The iron armor and weapons I'd set aside as offerings glowed cherry-red, thin wisps of white smoke rising from them.
Ogoun was pissed.
“……Could you explain a bit more kindly?”
[Very well.]
Once he adjusted his tone, the metals finally quieted. I wiped the sweat from the sudden heat and waited for him to continue. Ogoun cleared his throat with a raspy, metallic cough.
[Voodoo Cult Leader or Florence Academy student—there's no need to be just one or the other. Become the you that you truly think you are. That will be the path to your honesty.]
“That's tough.”
[Honesty always is.]
As Ogoun's voice faded, the metals' wail stopped. The heat from the heated metal lingered in the spot he'd left. I waved it away and tore into the offerings from the other executives.
“Oh……”
The offering from Gyeongsang Order executive Yuk Eun-hyeong was water. A 500ml PET bottle half-filled, with “Sahara Downpour” neatly written on it in a name pen. Perfect for Dan Wedo and the water spirit.
There was one top-grade item worthy of such a label, but plenty of high-grade ones too—like a wasteland bull's hoof or a black chicken's feathers. Those would go to Bosu and Marinette.
Bade had something suitable as well. Yuk Eun-hyeong's offerings were thoughtfully composed, more than enough to win the Loa's favor.
Next, I opened Yeom Man-geun's package. It was plastered with blue tape, so just opening the box was a chore.
Thud!
The moment I did, I stumbled back and fell on my ass. Strangely, it didn't hurt. The shock had numbed the pain.
“……Jeez, what the hell.”
[Male lamb kid here. Took great pains to procure one struck dead by lightning.]
The Jeolla Order executive Yeom Man-geun had sent an animal corpse. Its fluffy fur was charred black, and through its unclosed eyelids, unfocused pupils gleamed—slit horizontally like a sheep's.
A note from Yeom Man-geun lay atop the carcass.
[“Kid” is dialect for baby lamb.]
I tilted my head, and quick-witted Legba translated right away. It was as if Yeom Man-geun's gruff dialect echoed in my ears.
A baby ram killed by lightning—perfect for Sobo.
This was top-grade among top-grades, something to boast about.
[Me, Sobo! As the Loa of thunder and lightning, I gotta say my piece.]
“Go ahead.”
Sobo's voice was uncharacteristically serious.
[You've used me plenty, so you owe me at least this. If you don't give it this time, Sobo… Sobo can't take it!]
“Of course I'll give it. You've worked hard… Please keep taking care of me.”
I soothed Sobo, who was throwing a childish threat in his silly speech. Sobo's power was sometimes the light illuminating darkness, sometimes the flame incinerating beasts. Highly versatile, powerful, with minimal side effects—I'd relied on it heavily.
Sobo had suffered a lot, and would suffer more ahead. Building goodwill now was smart for the long haul.
A sniffle echoed in the silence.
[I'm touched! Take care of me too…!]
“……Yeah!”
A twinge of guilt hit me, so I replied extra brightly.
I offered the sacrifices via the altar next. Dan Wedo shed quiet tears; Sobo sobbed in感動.
[Prophet, Sobo and I are twins, but strictly speaking, I'm the older brother. Remember that…]
But Bade seemed dissatisfied. The offering for him was good, but lower quality than Sobo's or Dan Wedo's.
“Sorry. Next time, something better. Circumstances just aren't right now…”
[No need to apologize! I just wanted you to know. I'm not some petty Loa who whines over quality!]
“Of course, got it.”
[Thanks for understanding!]
Bade vanished after that. Like Sobo, his power was efficient, so goodwill upfront was wise. To avoid offending him, I'd ask the executives for wind-related offerings next time.
Next, Bosu's turn.
[Bosu overflows with strength! I could uproot every pillar in the worship hall!]
“Wait, no, you can't.”
Bosu was hyped from his rare offering. I reined him in while placing the herbs from Yun Chang-su on the altar.
Then Granbwa's clear voice rang in my head.
[Prophet, you forgot the last herb on the altar. Put that one up too.]
“I was gonna brew this into medicine for myself…”
[……Tch, listening to Legba after all. I'm disappointed, really!]
“No, that's not—”
[Whatever. Take care of your health. Spare your body a bit.]
Granbwa left with curt, sulky words laced with warm concern.
That wrapped up the executives' offerings, save for Ogoun's iron armor and weapons.
“……”
I stared at the scattered armor and weapons, lost in thought.
[Voodoo Cult Leader or Florence Academy student.]
Ogoun's voice lingered in my ears.
I'd entered Florence to rescue my mother from the Papal underground prison. But that wasn't the Voodoo Cult Leader's mission.
It was purely the duty of a son to his mother.
So what was my duty as Voodoo Cult Leader? Or what should it be?
[There's no need to be just one or the other.]
What honesty did Ogoun want from me? I had no clue.
I'd never pondered it deeply.
I flopped down amid the offerings and altar. Exhausted, but sleep wouldn't come.
I bolted up. Time to practice spells.
[Better sleep early tonight.]
The Voodoo magic I'd expelled turned to purple mist, swirling down to the floor. It quivered, dispersed, then gathered—forming shape.
A bone-white hand emerged. Its long fingers were twig-thin.
The voice came from those fingers.
[Long time no see?]
“Not that long, I think.”
[Is that so? My sense of time's gotten fuzzy lately. Am I dying? Hahaha…]
Baron Samedi laughed. The Loa of death joking about death wasn't funny at all.
I glared at the palm. It waved awkwardly, as if embarrassed, trying to shoo my gaze.
[No need to glare like that. Kinda hurtful?]
“Where's the rest of you? Just the hand?”
[Left it at the Crossroads.]
Cryptic as always. His words seemed meaningless yet profound. They always did.
His pale hand wriggled like a swimming eel in the air.
[Not important. As I said, sleep soon. Skip it, and tomorrow you'll be exhausted.]
“Tomorrow…? Something happening?”
I asked, unease creeping in. His fingers twitched, as if hesitating.
[Who knows? We'll see tomorrow. Even I don't know exactly.]
“Lame.”
[Listen close to what I say next. It'll help, like always.]
Baron Samedi ignored my gripe.
[Beware screams and wails. They're echoes of false pain.]
“……”
[Don't trust the head's words.]
“More riddles. Can I break a finger?”
I gripped one, asking. He slipped free as mist, reforming the hand. Now his bony index pointed at me.
[The most direct prophecy I've given yet. You'll understand tomorrow.]
“Tomorrow……”
[No need to worry.]
Baron Samedi's hand dissolved into mist. As it faded, his voice grew softer—but never unclear. An otherworldly clarity no human voice could match.
[Tomorrow will be a joyous day. For you, and for me.]
*
Early morning, twelve teachers and staff gathered in the conference room. Three were department heads: So Do-jin, Ha Ye-jin, and Kim Bok-dong. The other eight were former Holy Warriors or paladins with Holy War experience—combat veterans. The last was Kim Chang-won.
“Sorry to drag you out so suddenly; thank you all for coming. The reason I called you this early… Ah, first, please take these.”
Ziiiip— Kim Chang-won unzipped the backpack on the round table. Out came Moses' Burning Branch—eleven of them, each valuable enough alone. He handed one to each teacher.
They took them, puzzled.
“The Satanist purge is nearing its end. From their view, this is infuriating. They thought scaring us would scatter us, but we're uniting to hunt them instead.”
The teachers nodded quietly, faces quizzical. They still couldn't guess his point.
“So, they might stir up big trouble soon. Whenever Satanists cause incidents, CCTV and security systems always fail. Phones and radios might not work then either.”
Satanist paths always left broken CCTVs and security. They disabled electronics mysteriously.
“That's why the branches—for that scenario. With your combat skills coordinating via them, evacuating students and neutralizing threats should be straightforward…”
Kim Chang-won paused, coughing into his hand. He wiped blood from his palm casually, steadying his breath.
“……But without coordination, even student evacuations could fail.”
Dull light gleamed in his eyes—fear and conviction mingled. His top fear: student casualties from teacher failings. He was forming an on-campus combat team of capable teachers, starting with branch comms.
“All I can provide now is this; truly sorry. It was rushed…”
“Oh, no, Chairman. More than enough.”
“Yeah. Satanists are nothing. Stay sharp, and they're punchbags.”
Some bowed hurriedly back as he apologized. Kim Chang-won smiled warmly—kind yet resolute.
“Thank you. I trust you all. Now…”
He dismissed them to the staff room, branches in hand, offering personalized encouragement. They left admiring his character and proud of his trust.
“Sorry, but So Do-jin, could you come to the chairman's office?”
Once alone with So Do-jin, Kim Chang-won said this. Uncomprehending, So Do-jin followed to the office.
Rummaging his desk, Kim Chang-won handed him a vial. The liquid inside glowed faintly.
“As you know, made by former Cardinal Seong Yu-da. Purifies Contract black magic.”
Contract turned humans into demons or beastkin. Countless clergy had stabbed comrades with their own swords because of it. The black magic they feared and loathed most.
“Still developmental—can't reverse full demonization or beastification. But it can halt progression temporarily.”
“The vial stolen last time.”
“Yes. Lab security's laxer than here; they took one from there. Probably Satanists.”
Kim Chang-won handed it over with a bitter smile. So Do-jin didn't take it, hands behind back, staring blankly at the glowing liquid.
“Take it.”
“Sudden like this… At least tell me why.”
“Guard it. Use at your discretion if needed.”
“……”
So Do-jin's face showed clear bewilderment at the heavy duty.
Kim Chang-won smiled as always.
“Can't leave something this vital with a washed-up retiree. Safer with active you.”
He forced the vial into So Do-jin's hand.
“Above all, my judgment's clouded. Best hope we never need it—but if we do, my feelings might bias me.”
“Unlike what you think, Chairman, I'm not cold at all.”
So Do-jin bowed, ashamed, continuing. “Better give it to Kim Bok-dong. Sharp, rational despite looks.”
“Offered him already. He refused, saying you're perfect for it. If that keen mind recommends you, isn't it right?”
Kim Chang-won's smile deepened. So Do-jin looked down, flustered. No more excuses.
Risking rudeness, he sighed deeply. “Frankly, I'm scared. The burden of sole judgment, the responsibility…”
“Don't worry about that.”
Kim Chang-won stood, clasping So Do-jin's vial hand with both of his.
“All responsibility's mine. I chose you. No burden.”
His gaze held conviction and resolve.
(To be continued)