Conversations in the Rain
Ha Ye-jin and Kim Bok-dong were strolling together through the exam grounds. Ha Ye-jin shook out her wet hair, wringing out the water with a furrowed brow.
"What the hell, rain out of nowhere like this."
"Tell me about it."
Kim Bok-dong brushed the water from his hair as well, glancing up at the fickle sky. The torrential downpour had tapered off to a drizzle, and the pitch-black clouds that had seemed so ominous were gradually lightening.
"This is so annoying. Hot and humid now too."
"……"
Irritation laced Ha Ye-jin's voice. Kim Bok-dong just nodded silently, keeping his mouth shut. He figured if he said something dumb, her frustration might turn on him.
The two were patrolling the exam grounds as safety officers, occasionally assigning tasks to students they encountered in exchange for tokens—acting as both supervisors and proctors. They hadn't started out together; they'd just run into each other by chance and decided to stick together. Though it probably wasn't pure chance.
Throughout the patrol, Kim Bok-dong fidgeted restlessly, stealing glances at Ha Ye-jin before dropping his gaze to the ground. He clearly had something on his mind.
"If you've got something to say, spit it out now."
"Uh... how'd you know?"
"Who wouldn't notice? It's making me antsy just watching."
Ha Ye-jin scowled in annoyance. Kim Bok-dong scratched at his buzzed hair, hesitating before finally speaking.
"...I heard you submitted your resignation."
"From So Do-jin?"
It had to be. Ha Ye-jin hadn't told Kim Bok-dong about her plans to leave teaching. He'd been dodging all contact under the pretense of secluded training.
Kim Bok-dong shook his head. "No, the chairman told me."
"What... the chairman?"
"Yeah. Seemed like he was hoping you'd change your mind."
Kim Bok-dong's voice was low and subdued. Ha Ye-jin gave a wry smile.
"Everyone likes me too much."
"Well... yeah, you could say that."
Ha Ye-jin shot him a side-eye. "Why'd you hesitate like that?"
"No... I didn't."
Kim Bok-dong stammered awkwardly. Ha Ye-jin cracked a small smile at the sight.
They walked on in silence. The rain finally stopped altogether. The sun-warmed ground began to dry under the gentle rays.
Ha Ye-jin swept back the damp strands clinging to her face. Her downcast eyes were shadowed with melancholy.
"I feel like I don't have the qualifications."
"Hm?"
Kim Bok-dong tilted his head at her sudden words. Undeterred, Ha Ye-jin continued.
"When Bae Seong-hyeon got expelled, I blamed him. Why'd a kid like that have to be in my class? Why'd he have to be class president, of all things?"
"……."
"But looking back now, I think I was the problem. That incident too."
She meant the thing with Gu Jun-hyeok but avoided naming it outright, in case a passing student overheard. Kim Bok-dong nodded without replying. He had a hunch what she was getting at, but no words came to mind. Comforting her or criticizing felt wrong for the moment.
Ha Ye-jin didn't wait for a response anyway. She hadn't brought it up to hear one.
"I'm not qualified to teach anyone. So stepping away from teaching makes sense."
"...Can't say you're completely blameless."
Kim Bok-dong's tone was cautious yet firm. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before adding,
"But no teacher can guide every kid straight. Some are bound to go astray."
"Not 'some.' Two in one semester... both from my class."
"It wasn't because of you. They were already off track."
"Guiding kids like that back to the right path is my job. I failed."
"Some people can't be changed. Forcing it just backfires."
"Then what's a teacher for?"
"Because some can be."
Ha Ye-jin looked up at Kim Bok-dong.
"Some kids go astray no matter what, others straighten out from a little attention."
"……."
"I think a teacher's role is giving that little attention. With so many students, you can't pour your heart into every one."
Kim Bok-dong dropped his gaze to the ground as he continued.
"...Hell if I know what I'm even saying."
Ha Ye-jin stared at him in surprise. His face was etched with conflict. He wanted her to stay in teaching too.
"I get what you mean."
Ha Ye-jin gazed up at the clear sky, lost in thought. The Priest Order was surprisingly hierarchical. No overt boot camp vibes, but subtle power plays and politics were everywhere. Ha Ye-jin couldn't adapt to it and fled to teaching instead. But school had its own toxic atmosphere.
Too many kids to teach, each with their own baggage. Amid inevitable competition and back-to-back incidents, students were suffering. Several had sought counseling after the last event, intent on dropping out.
And the faculty? Instead of supporting students body and soul, they bickered over merits and contributions for commendations. In all that, Ha Ye-jin felt powerless. Like she'd lost her way. She couldn't tell right paths from wrong anymore. How could someone who couldn't find her own guide others?
"I get it, but still, I..."
Beeeep!
Ha Ye-jin's resolved words cut off unfinished. The teacher-issued smartwatch she'd put on before the exam blared shrilly. One of the students taking the test was calling for help.
It was a feature on student watches for emergencies: mid-exam quits, serious injuries, or other dangers. A single button summoned teachers. Plenty hit it by accident. But this was different. The watches on Ha Ye-jin and Kim Bok-dong's wrists wailed not once, but dozens of times. No accident.
Realizing that, Kim Bok-dong immediately sketched a blessing circle. He pinpointed the student's location via the watch and prepared to sprint.
But Ha Ye-jin blocked his path.
"What? If you've got something to say, save it!"
"No, take me with you! Don't go alone like last time!"
Ha Ye-jin wasn't as fast as Kim Bok-dong or So Do-jin. In emergencies, they'd leave her behind. Not this time. Kim Bok-dong might not handle it solo.
Kim Bok-dong nodded and turned his back to her.
"Hop on quick!"
"Got it!"
Ha Ye-jin clambered onto his back. Kim Bok-dong winced at the unexpected weight on his shoulders.
"Ugh, this isn't what I meant."
"Is that important right now? Just run!"
Kim Bok-dong took off. Ha Ye-jin clung precariously atop him. They looked like a wild stallion and its tamer.
*
Kim Jin-seo faced off against the demon species. Strangely, it wasn't lunging at her. If it—or rather, the Satanist controlling it—wanted, she would've been dead in seconds.
It hadn't even chased a fleeing kid. Its blood-red eyes, filled with eerie energy, stayed fixed on her. Its bony fingers always pointed her way.
From the looks of it, they want me alive. Capture, not kill.
Kim Jin-seo concluded. She had no idea why. Satanists defied logic. For now, just remember they wanted her taken alive.
"Hoo."
She steadied her breath. Sanity returned. Senses and awareness flooded back. Her eyes gleamed cold and calm.
"Jin-seo... hey... let's go... together."
Whoosh!
The demon swung its arm wide, reaching for her. It was so long she had to backpedal several steps. Divine power flickered at her fingertips, not yet a blessing circle.
"……."
Kim Jin-seo watched its movements, ready to draw. It wasn't as fast as she'd thought. Mun Yo-seop during the exam had been a blur. This felt sluggish by comparison.
She drew a blessing circle. She spotted the weak point: those glowing red eyes. The rest seemed armored like chitin—no sword would dent it. But the eyes? Viable.
She layered circles: strength enhancement, agility boost, every combat blessing she could muster.
Prolonged fight favored the demon. She'd go all-in on this clash.
Shh.
As it raised its shoulder, her hair stirred faintly.
Splat!
Dirt exploded at her feet. She'd vanished from its sight. It rolled its eyes searching. But she was faster.
She didn't retreat—closed in. Crouching low, she charged, spun, and whipped her chain. Rotation from her feet powered the strike.
Crack!
The chain wrapped its ankle. She yanked with all her might. It toppled.
Thud!
It crashed. Dirt and gravel pelted her eyes. She didn't blink. Her furious gaze stayed locked.
"Grraa... you... you...!"
It pushed up with an arm. She drew another circle, detonating it per So Do-jin's teachings.
Her leap cratered the ground. She vanished again.
Crack!
Bone snapped. She reappeared, her kick slamming its solar plexus as it tried to rise.
Boom!
It crumpled again. She stepped onto its belly, up to its neck, then head. She limped—ankle probably broken from the kick. Agony, but not fatal. She gritted her teeth; blood seeped between them. Focusing on mouth pain dulled the ankle.
She lifted the broken leg, stomped its eye.
Squelch.
Broken leg was trash now. Might as well expend it. Reckless, but no other win con.
Smashing one eye didn't end it. She gripped the chain hilt, smashed the other.
Stab!
"Kieeeek!"
It thrashed, shrieking. She'd aimed to pierce brain via eye, but lacked force. She yanked the chain free and retreated to safe distance, assessing.
"……."
Ankle mangled beyond use. Mouth tasted of blood. Breathing stabbed her chest—lungs and heart pierced by needles. Each step heavy as lead weights.
Yet she stood firm. She'd planned for death. At least take this demon with her.
She looked skyward. Storm gone; cloudless blue, sunlight blessing everywhere.
"Adonai, guide of my night."
She began the prayer. Divine power welled from her body. Radiant armor seemed to encase her. Miracle recreation? Or true miracle? The light was thick, indecipherable.
Her hair lifted, floating. Gentle breeze swirled around her.
The light took form, flickering like flames.
"...grant me the light of the wilderness—"
Screeeeech!
A horrific roar erupted—not through ears, but brain-shaking from within.
She halted prayer. Voice wouldn't come; blood poured instead. Thick bloody tears streamed. Blood dripped. Vision blood-red.
Still, her wide eyes glared at the demon.
Not her will. Gaze drawn to it. A third eye bulged on its forehead: milky, pupil-less, staring.
Sunlight blessings gone. Mystic breeze vanished. Oppressive silence reigned.
Blink.
It blinked the third eye.
"Ah... gasp...!"
Breath stopped. Heart crushed. She clutched her chest, collapsed. Blood still flowed from mouth and eyes. Couldn't catch breath. Roar echoed in skull. Heartbeats doubled pain. Death imminent. Maybe better to die.
Step, step.
The demon approached gracefully. Its milky eye savored her agony.
Her light armor long dispersed.
"Stay still."
The demon spoke—or the third eye did. Human voice, not demonic. Someone beyond the eye addressed her.
"It's okay."
"Ah... ah...!"
"Don't resist. It won't hurt. Look into my eye... no pain..."
She didn't want to hear. But gaze stuck. Each blink worsened chest tightness but eased pain. Trying to rise spiked agony; staying down soothed it.
Pain-relief cycle ground her will down. Rising terrified; collapse comforted.
The demon squatted before her, peering down.
"Good girl..."
Rip, tear.
It cooed like soothing a child, jaws yawning impossibly wide. Jaws split with gruesome cracks. Aimed to swallow whole.
Snap!
Kim Jin-seo gripped the chain hilt fiercely. Last struggle. Splintered end jagged. Wood thorns pierced her palm. Sharp pain snapped clarity.
Bigger pain woke the haze.
Stab.
Bloody hand thrust the broken hilt into its upper gum. Too weak for depth. She summoned last strength, shoved deeper.
"Kieeeek!"
It screamed, recoiled. Fumbled inside mouth to extract but failed—pushing wedged it deeper. Black blood dripped.
Veins bulged in the milky eye.
She crawled away, seeking distance. Not fleeing. Fists useless against armor. Grab glass, stick, rock—anything to attack.
Dragging through wet mud, eyes scanned frantically. Mud or blood in eyes? Irrelevant.
"...Planned to take you intact. Such resistance."
The demon extended a hand, pinning her leg.
Crack!
Effortless snap. Her body convulsed in torment. No scream—silent wail from gaping mouth.
Soon, limp on the ground. It plucked her like a bug, milky eye inspecting.
She met its gaze with drained eyes.
"There, obedient now."
It carried her to its maw. Two thin tongues writhed snake-like. Saliva dripped from hundreds of teeth. Throat darkness echoed faint screams.
Drip.
It froze. Milky eye darted: left, right, up, down.
Stopped, staring ground.
Not ground—beneath.
Rumble...
Earth quaked. Vibration shook soil, trees, air. Rose from depths.
Clear panic in the milky eye.
It rushed to swallow her.
Crack!
Ground split. Demon's lower half vanished.
Splat!
"Ugh!"
Kim Jin-seo tumbled to dirt. Coughed violently, blood-flecked. Head raised wearily.
Lower half not gone. From the fissure, a long colossal something surged, coiling to devour it. A serpent.
Iridescent scales glittered in sun. Eyes sharp, venomous, fixed on demon.
The milky eye now showed outright terror.
(To be continued next time)