Sheltering Kang Ji-a
I let Kang Ji-a into my room. The reason was simple—I couldn’t let Ma Yu-hyeon see her face. Having my identity exposed was bad enough. I couldn’t let him glimpse my uncle, Kang Ji-a, or any other Voodooists. Not even their voices could reach him.
I knocked Ma Yu-hyeon out with a faint spell and immediately shoved him into Baal’s maw. I’d snuck it into the practical exam site on the sly. Then I came to the worship hall, hid Kang Ji-a in my room, and headed underground.
“……”
The underground worship hall, one level deeper still. It was a place I’d never normally enter, nor had any desire to. Hot and humid. Pitch dark, shrouded in a thick purple mist from some unknown source, visibility near zero. The mist was undoubtedly a spell fog. But for some reason, inhaling it brought no effect. My father often researched spells here, and traces of that must have lingered. Mere traces, so the spell’s power had faded.
I descended the stairs to the room where Father always conducted his research. The fog grew thicker. I pulled Ma Yu-hyeon from Baal’s mouth. He hadn’t regained consciousness. Using rope from the worship hall, I bound his hands and feet, looped a noose around his neck, and connected the knots to fix him in place. Now he couldn’t twitch a finger, foot, or even his head.
With Ma Yu-hyeon secured, I leaned against the wall and sat. My breathing was steady. Earlier, I’d been anxious, impatient, seething with rage, at a loss. Now, strangely, my mind was calm beyond reason.
“Legba.”
I called for Legba.
“Legba, I can’t hear your voice. Are you not speaking?”
No answer.
“What should I do?”
In the silence, I tore at my hair. It didn’t hurt—that drove me mad.
“What happens to me now…?”
[It depends on your choice.]
Legba spoke. The tangled thoughts in my head cleared, replaced by a familiar scene. Legba standing at the crossroads. And Legba addressed me.
[To gain one thing, you must abandon another. The reverse holds true as well.]
I stood at the crossroads.
*
“……Fuck.”
“……Crazy…… What the hell……”
A voice. Ma Yu-hyeon’s voice. I snapped my eyes open. Had I fallen asleep leaning against the wall? You mad bastard! No idea when it happened. The crossroads vision, Legba’s voice… After that, my memory was gone. Even exhausted, dozing off now was ridiculous. But the nap had cleared my head.
I pushed through the thick fog toward Ma Yu-hyeon. He thrashed futilely against the bonds. Good.
Thud!
“Guh…!”
I kicked his gut. With limbs bound, his torso exposed, it was easy. Ma Yu-hyeon lifted his head with a sharp grunt. He looked at me. No reading his eyes through the fog.
“……Kicking the stomach right off the bat? Even for you—”
Thud!
I kicked again. No grunt this time—the blow too hard for even that. He writhed on the floor, gasping. I watched, then unleashed Voodoo magic.
Recreation, Dawn Sword.
I couldn’t kill him yet. Killing him would make things irreversible. No room left to fix it—I’d spend my life fleeing the Papal Court’s pursuit. So I drew the Dawn Sword. Unlike the executioner’s blade for criminals’ necks, this skinned beasts offered as sacrifices. Or human skin.
“When did you figure it out?”
I rested the Dawn Sword on his thigh and asked. No answer. Not hesitating—he was refusing deliberately. I gripped tighter.
Stab.
“A-aaagh—!”
Ma Yu-hyeon screamed. Blood flowed from the wound. His pants soaked red. Push harder, and the blade would tear muscle to bone. He’d never walk right again. Endless ways to inflict pain.
“Move, and it hurts more. So, when?”
Squatting before his writhing form, hand on the hilt, I asked again. He screamed but didn’t move. Just trembled. He knew—any twitch, and the blade would shred him.
“Ha, ha……! Hoo. Yeah, when?”
Breath ragged, pain numbing, he finally spoke. I nodded. He caught his breath, continued.
“Knew for sure today. Before that, just suspicion.”
“When? What made you suspect?”
“Your eyes.”
“Speak clearly. Or—”
“A-aaagh! Fuck, wait. Wait, I was explaining.”
As I gripped the hilt, he yelled desperately. I eased off, waited. He continued, breathing hard.
“……I have a unique blessing. One only I can use. It lets me see what others can’t.”
“What others can’t see?”
“Yeah, so…… The flow of light in people.”
Flow of light?
“Keep going.”
“Normal people have light flowing through them. Emit it, becomes divine power. That’s how I distinguished taxidermy dolls from people last time. Dolls have no light flow.”
“No light in me? That’s when suspicion started?”
“No? There was light. Different color.”
Ma Yu-hyeon said it like it was obvious. I couldn’t grasp it. I’d never seen this ‘light flow’ he described. I saw the world my way; he, his.
He went on. “Usually pale yellow. Innately high divine power density? Looks white.”
“……”
“But you…… Purple, close to red. Bit of white mixed in.”
“Anyone else suspect me? Who’d you tell?”
“No one else, probably. Haven’t told anyone.”
“……Why?”
No matter how I thought, it was off. Even with his flaws, Ma Yu-hyeon was Romanica. Pope’s kin, next Pope pick. For Romanica, exposing me publicly was right. But he hadn’t. Even helped me at school.
Why?
“No need to tell. No reason. Better not to.”
“So why—”
“Always dumb questions…… This isn’t about why I didn’t tell.”
Ma Yu-hyeon spoke condescendingly, like teaching a child.
“Why tell only me, not others? That’s key.”
“Why? Blackmail?”
“Blackmail…… No. I hope you don’t get caught.”
“……”
At least to me, he wasn’t lying. Quick check with Ogoun—no reaction. Truth.
He hoped I wouldn’t get caught.
“Hoping I don’t get caught…… Why?”
I grabbed his hair, yanked his head up. Saw his fog-shrouded face. He hesitated, lips twitching, then grinned. Ear-to-ear, grotesque.
Ptoo.
Something flew at my eyes—his spit. He eyed me smugly.
“Crazy? You think I’d tell you that?”
“……Yeah, too soft.”
I twisted the blade deeper in his thigh. Odd sound from his leg—muscle tearing or bone cracking. No scream. Too much pain even for that.
Pain inflicted, but bleeding worse than expected. He’d die if left. Couldn’t let him yet. Pulled the blade, unleashed Voodoo magic.
Shwoosh—!
Voodoo magic formed a spell circle instantly. Fog from it enveloped his mangled leg. Wound healed clean. Restoration spell. But no pain relief. Wound gone, agony stayed.
I’d give pain wishing for death, but never deliver it. Ma Yu-hyeon drooled, mouth agape, rolling, gasping. Then screamed, screams fading.
“Ha, haha! Ha, ha……!”
Laughter started. Not hearing wrong. He laughed madly, then steadied breath.
“Ha, ha…… Hoo. Used to stabbing? Makes sense—you’ve killed before.”
“Killed? Bullshit.”
He tilted his head at my words.
“The Satanists in Basar Mall basement—you?”
“……They weren’t human.”
They kidnapped, gutted, stuffed with cotton and sawdust into taxidermy. Displayed mockingly as ‘art.’ Too base for humans.
Ma Yu-hyeon laughed maniacally again. Genuine, eerie in this situation.
“Ah, haha…… Right, not human. We see the world alike. Identically.”
“Bullshit……”
“Both binary thinkers. Can’t help it. Easier.”
“……”
“‘Starless Night.’ Sorry about that. But to me then, you weren’t human. Like you say of Satanists. Understand?”
“……When you captured Voodooists then. Used your eyes?”
I held back rage. Outburst might kill him unwittingly. Heart pounded. Breath rough. Vision whitening.
He smirked, answered.
“Nah. No blessing then. Guessed. Dead, all same corpse anyway?”
“Ah……”
Stomach churned.
“Bosu…… No, Marinette.”
(To be continued)