The Subordinate's Counterquestion
The subordinate asked back. “Pardon?”
“Do Seon-woo. If he figured out there was a bug, he'd have realized we suspect him too, right? So why smash the bug—and so blatantly at that.”
“Maybe he's hiding something. That's why he destroyed it in such a hurry...”
“If so, he'd pick a better way. Lie low like a dead rat for a few days, scout our movements, then smash it pretending it was an accident. Way more natural. Textbook stuff, even.”
To dodge suspicion, he wouldn't have smashed it right then. Better to wait a few days, intentionally break or lose the holy object, then pass it off as a mistake. That way, he'd slip surveillance smoothly. If Do Seon-woo had done that, Mun Yo-seop's doubts would only deepen.
“But Do Seon-woo found it and smashed it on the spot. Like he wanted to stoke suspicion. Why?”
What the hell was he thinking? No matter how Mun turned it over, it made no sense.
Maybe uncontrollable rage after discovering it. Do Seon-woo didn't seem the type to lose emotional control like that, but he was a student. Kids pulled inexplicable stunts all the time—stuff no adult could fathom.
Mun had done it himself as a boy. Once smashed every school window just to see how tempered glass broke differently from regular. Stayed up six nights straight wondering what happened if you skipped sleep.
But could he chalk this up to boyish whimsy? The nagging thought: it might all be part of Do Seon-woo's scheme. Seemingly impulsive, but laced with meticulous, cunning calculation underneath...
“Yes, Do Seon-woo. What can I do for you?”
Right then, a bizarre screech erupted from Mun's phone. The subordinate yelped, clapping hands over his ears.
Mun smirked. “Come on, it's just a phone call—what's the drama?”
The blare was his ringtone: something called “healthy frequency music.” Mun casually checked the caller ID.
Do Seon-woo.
No hesitation—he answered. “Yes, Do Seon-woo. What's up?”
“-Just calling to say I got the recommendation letter, pocket money, watch... and the hydrogen water or whatever. Thanks.”
“Glad it arrived safe. Though that 'pocket money' was a bit much, eh? More like a bribe, really.”
“-Oh, a bribe? Anyway, received.”
“Like the watch?”
“-Fits perfect. How'd you know my wrist size?”
“No need to measure. Guess after a few glances.”
“-How many watches you gift out for that kinda skill...”
“Hahaha... Kid's a riot. Hilarious.”
Mun clocked it instantly: Do Seon-woo probing for a psychological edge. A green punk trying wordplay? Mun couldn't help sneering.
Do mentioned the letter, cash, hydrogen water—but skipped the holy object. Forcing Mun to bring it up first.
Mun's lips twisted into a chilling, eerie grin. “Alright, Do Seon-woo! Get the holy object? Felt stingy just sending that, so I tucked in a bug too!”
“S-sunbae, what...?”
The subordinate stammered, but Mun ignored him. “Thing is, it broke today. We're thinking you smashed it on purpose. No need to explain why—who likes being bugged?”
“-Inquisitor, I...”
“What I'm curious about is how you found it. Metal detector on you? Wait—magnet'd do it too.”
Mun's smile deepened. “So, spill. How? Dying to know.”
“-...”
Silence on the line.
“-Found it on instinct.”
“Instinct!”
Do's brazen lie drew an involuntary bark of laughter from Mun. “Better claim Adonai's revelation via prayer. Think I'd buy that?”
“-If I said metal detector, you'd send plastic next time, right?”
“Fair.”
“-To block the next one, keeping my method secret. Forgive the rudeness.”
“Rudeness? We're the bugs—top offenders. You're wrinkling a cocoon in front of a pupa here.”
“-Good you get it.”
The subordinate eavesdropped, baffled. Both sounded unhinged. Mun laughed uproariously, slamming the desk. Thought he was some prim bookworm—turns out, batshit solid.
Even better. Mun leaned into the receiver. “So, real reason for the call?”
“-Why'd you bug me?”
“Call it straight. You smashed it before we even started, no? Anyway, reasons? Plenty.”
Mun paused, weighing: lie or truth? Lies pointless now. Truth it was.
“Fine. Sub-priests are basically civilians. Gotta watch you. Clear?”
“-Satanist info leak?”
“Spot on. Florence kids think Satanists are street trash. Only you know Gu Jun-hyeok's one—and Vatican's cover-up.”
“-Yes.”
“You go Enlightenment yelling 'Gu Jun-hyeok's a Satanist, Vatican hid it!'? We're screwed. Got it?”
“-Got it. But why assume I'd blab? Don't trust me?”
“Trust you. Bugs just solidify it. You plus bug? Full trust. On trust—you trust me?”
“-Did, till the bug.”
“Hahaha!”
The subordinate flinched.
“Contradiction, kid. You found it 'cause you suspected us. 'Instinct' needs suspicion first.”
“-True.”
“Mutual distrust, then. Perfect. Build it slow? We're same boat—gotta trust, right?”
“-Yes, got it.”
“Sorry for the bug. Sending fresh holy object, no bug. Suspicious? Meet up, buy new on spot. Preference?”
“-Whatever suits you. Honestly, don't send at all.”
“Haha, love the honesty. Deal—hanging up.”
Call ended. Mun set the phone down, hands trembling with thrill.
Cold dead-fish eyes on the subordinate. “Buy new holy object for Do Seon-woo. Ship to Florence.”
“Re-bug?”
“No.”
Smile vanished. “No need anymore. That punk's got my temperament.”
“Meaning?”
“Won't spill truth at personal cost. Not gabby. Leak worries off table. Clear?”
“Ah, yes!”
“...Reminds me of my Venus flytrap.”
“Pardon? How?”
“Needs spoon-fed meals. Calls itself flytrap, but solo hunts? Rare.”
Subordinate tilted his head.
Mun sighed pityingly, lit a cigarette dangling from lips. “Incompetent, is what. Gotta spell it out? Pure flytrap.”
Inhaled blissfully—crackle of burning tobacco, smoke flooding lungs. Recalled the chat.
Not dumb or reckless enough to leak Gu info everywhere. No need for tails or bugs—casual check-ins as partners suffice.
Shady vibes aplenty in talk and actions. Still, didn't want to suspect. Liked the guy's vibe: bold, manly, reckless edge. Too fun to antagonize over gut feelings.
“Oh, Yeo Min-seo woke up. Pay her a visit.”
Mun stubbed the cig, lit another.
“You not going?”
“Nah. Knee aches, too much hassle.”
Eyed his Venus flytrap. Sneaky jaw-snap for bugs—adorable.
[Reckless fool! Why pull that stunt?!]
Legba bellowed.
Blanket over my head, sleep crashed over me like a wave. Drained from dorm warden's yapping, then the Mun call.
Even drowsy, his nagging droned on.
No shut-eye otherwise—mumbled back. “No issues, right? Good.”
[Careless. One slip, papal forces storming in now.]
“Probably. But I don't slip.”
Legba hushed.
[Still, too risky a gamble. More caution ahead.]
“Can't play cautious with Mun types.”
Surrendered to dark and drowsiness. “Letters show it... Orthodox play gets you tangled...”
Crazy beats crazy. Instinct call, but results? Stellar.
[...My meddling overdone.]
Legba's sleepy tone: subdued.
(To be continued)