Ha Su-yeong Rode in Lee Jin-seong's Car
Ha Su-yeong was riding in Lee Jin-seong's car. He had some business to attend to outside and suggested she come along if she wanted to get out. Having been cooped up in the worship hall, feeling stifled, she gladly accepted.
"Ha Pan-seok... or rather, your dad. No calls from him?" Lee Jin-seong asked as he drove.
Ha Su-yeong pulled out her phone and glanced at it. There were dozens of calls and texts from Ha Pan-seok. Naturally, she hadn't answered any calls or replied to the messages. She stared at the phone for a moment before shoving it back into her pocket.
"He comes every day."
"Yeah, figures." Lee Jin-seong nodded.
He drove to a shop selling high-end liquors like yangju and wine. He carefully selected a bottle that easily cost hundreds of thousands of won and bought it.
Even though it wasn't her money, Ha Su-yeong felt a nervous flutter.
"That's some really expensive booze... you drink."
Once back in the car, Ha Su-yeong commented.
Lee Jin-seong fell silent at her words. Then he gave a small smile and shook his head.
"It's not for me. It's a gift."
"A gift? For who?"
"Someone I really hate."
Ha Su-yeong tilted her head, not understanding. Why give such expensive liquor to someone you hated?
Lee Jin-seong drove on in silence until the road grew quiet. Then he spoke.
"Back in the day, my hands would shake if I didn't drink. Now, they shake if I do."
He continued impassively. Ha Su-yeong listened quietly.
"Once, I got drunk and hit Seon-woo. When he was just a kid."
"......"
"After my sister and brother-in-law were gone. Seeing him cry like that... I just couldn't stand the sight. So I kicked the curled-up, sobbing kid and beat him."
Lee Jin-seong paused, as if recalling the memory. Ha Su-yeong tried to picture it: Do Seon-woo huddled and crying, Lee Jin-seong stomping and hitting him. It was hard to imagine.
Lee Jin-seong and Do Seon-woo got along well now. And Lee Jin-seong didn't seem like someone who would hit anyone. Nor did Do Seon-woo seem like someone who would take a beating. At least, not in Ha Su-yeong's eyes.
"Even then, the kid was good at voodoo. If he'd wanted, he could've killed a guy like me no problem. Or driven me half-mad... well, I was already half-mad by then."
"......"
"But he just took it."
Lee Jin-seong fell silent again. Ha Su-yeong listened without a word.
A few raindrops hit the windshield. The drizzle was light. Lee Jin-seong turned on the wipers and spoke.
"No matter how much I hit him, cursed him, threw things at him... he just took it. Like it was all his fault—my sister getting taken, my brother-in-law dying."
"......"
"And there I was, acting like I was blameless. 'It's all your fault, your mom died because of you, you killed your dad.' Spouting that crap..."
The car entered a tunnel. No more raindrops on the windshield. Yet the wipers kept sweeping side to side, wiping away nonexistent rain.
"...That's when I snapped out of it. Haven't touched booze since. Or smokes. Nothing that could become a dependency or addiction."
Ha Su-yeong kept staring at the wipers swinging back and forth.
"That's when I started buying liquor only as gifts. For people I hate. Feels like I drank back then because I hated myself."
"What about apologizing?"
"Huh?" Lee Jin-seong glanced back.
Ha Su-yeong turned slightly toward him.
"Did you apologize?"
"Yeah. About seven years now. On the second cult leader's death anniversary—your father-in-law, I mean. And Seon-woo's birthday, or whenever it hits me."
"...So you've been forgiven now?"
"He forgave me. But I haven't."
"To forgive myself and accept it from myself... I figure another seventy years of apologies oughta do it."
Ha Su-yeong did the math in her head. Seventy more years... Lee Jin-seong would have to live past 150.
She let out a small chuckle.
"Gonna have to live a long time."
"That's the plan. No greed—just aim for 150."
Lee Jin-seong joked, but Ha Su-yeong didn't laugh. She just nodded slowly.
Suddenly, an old memory surfaced. The executive meeting, when she'd wandered into the woods cluelessly and Do Seon-woo helped her. Had she thanked him? Or apologized before that?
"Spot to park... ah, okay, found one."
After buying the liquor and driving around, Lee Jin-seong pulled into a spot. They'd circled the neighborhood because parking was scarce.
They got out and walked toward the worship hall. Soon, Florence Academy came into view. Students were heading home, pouring out by the dozens, hundreds, in uniforms resembling clerical robes.
Ha Su-yeong scanned the faces of the wicked, cruel Romanica followers. But none looked wicked or cruel—it felt oddly off.
"Kids getting out. Check for Seon-woo. If he's there, we can go together."
"...Ah."
Ha Su-yeong, scanning faces for Do Seon-woo at Lee Jin-seong's words, let out a small sound.
Lee Jin-seong looked too, but no Do Seon-woo. He tilted his head toward her.
"What? See him?"
"...No, my mistake. Better if we just go ahead."
"Alright then."
Lee Jin-seong shrugged it off and kept walking toward the worship hall. Ha Su-yeong followed, glancing back.
The man she'd spotted earlier was shambling powerlessly through the school gate. Deep copper skin, bleach-yellow hair. And those same venomous, unpleasant eyes, unchanged.
'Starryless Night'—the man who massacred Voodooists, got her mother killed. And caused her own brother to be captured.
Ma Yu-hyeon.
"Come to think of it, his birthday's soon," Lee Jin-seong muttered as they walked.
Ha Su-yeong didn't hear, her eyes fixed on Ma Yu-hyeon. No anger in her gaze. Her eyes shone brighter than ever.
He goes to Florence. Same school as Do Seon-woo.
Her heart pounded.
*
Mun Yo-seop rushed to his office at his subordinate's call. The subordinate trailed behind but couldn't keep up. Few could match him at full sprint. The subordinate panted, collapsed in exhaustion, and watched Mun Yo-seop's back shrink to a dot and vanish.
Bang!
Mun Yo-seop flung open the office door. Strangers were inside—clergy from the International Theological Society. Some retired, others high-ranking active like him.
He stomped toward them, who'd ransacked the place.
"...Inquisitor Mun Yo-seop. Mind telling me what the hell you're doing?"
"Ah, you're here, Inquisitor Mun Yo-seop."
The eldest of the visitors spoke. An archbishop like Mun Yo-seop, but with more seniority—the 'time in grade' difference.
Mun Yo-seop gritted his teeth, forced a smile.
"...What brings the International Theological Society to my humble office? Got permission for this?"
"Yes, we have permission."
"On what grounds? A mere theological society meddling in an inquisitor's investigation? Unthinkable."
Mun Yo-seop's words grew curt, his face darkening. The old man smirked leisurely.
He pulled a book from his robes. Mun Yo-seop's face hardened.
The old man dangled it like a tamer teasing prey with food.
"Found this in your office. A forbidden book, last I checked."
"......"
"As you say, we can't interfere with investigations. That'd be overstepping."
Mun Yo-seop chewed his lip until it bled. His clenched fist trembled, veins bulging on his forearms.
The old man continued smiling.
"But forbidden books are different. By papal decree, the International Theological Society manages them. You know that, right?"
"...Yes."
"So, where'd you get this forbidden book?"
The old man still smirked. Mun Yo-seop wanted to rip that mouth off. But he couldn't.
He couldn't reveal the source. He stood silent, chewing his lip. Nothing else to do.
"Better answer nicely."
The old man was testing him. Turn the Purification Clan into enemies? Or bow to power?
The book came from the Purification Clan, who'd sworn him to secrecy on its origin. He'd brushed it off then—never dreamed it'd be used like this.
Reveal it, and they'd torment him worse.
Mun Yo-seop forced a smile at the old man.
"Can I hold off on answering? Can't recall right now. Got it ages ago."
"I get it. Memory fades with age."
"...Then please leave. I'll contact you soon."
Thud.
"Sure. We'll leave the book."
Mun Yo-seop bowed. The old man nodded, tossed the book to the floor.
Mun Yo-seop picked it up, dusted it. The old man watched, arms crossed, then clicked his tongue.
"Why stir trouble doing unasked tasks?"
"......"
"Just do what His Holiness orders. Only that."
Mun Yo-seop bowed his head. No nod, no shake. No words.
The old man stared, nodded slowly.
"Well... we'll be off. Everyone, withdraw."
The searchers stopped at his words, filed out after him.
Mun Yo-seop surveyed the mess. Papers and books scattered, drawers open. Price for merely trying to dig into the Purification Clan. Not even a full investigation.
He gathered papers, closed drawers. Picking up a book, he spotted the potted Venus flytrap—a hobby plant. It gaped like it wanted food. Amid the chaos, only its pot was intact.
Crash!
He hurled the pot to the floor. The plant flopped dumbly.
Crunch.
He stomped it dead. Tore the forbidden book to shreds. Pages scattered.
He lit a lighter from his pocket, burned it. The book and plant went up in flames. The plant writhed like it was alive.
One damn book snaring him to the Purification Clan—infuriating. He burned it in rage. He'd read it hundreds of times anyway. All memorized. Burned or not, no difference.
Then his late-arriving subordinate entered, eyes widening at the scene.
"...Inquisitor."
"Contact Do Seon-woo."
Mun Yo-seop's eyes burned with unprecedented fury.
(To be continued)