Zombification
Zombification. In ancient Voodoo, it was the punishment meted out to those who committed heinous crimes like serial murders or child rape. Mixing tetrodotoxin with crushed deadly nightshade to create a "zombie powder," they'd rub it into the criminal's skin, plunging the sinner into a coma-like state. Then they'd cast an illusory spell, alternating injections of pleasure and pain. Five times over. The brain, pickled by drugs and illusions, lost its capacity for thought and soon atrophied. That was how the sinner became a "zombie." Their brain degenerated from relentless agony and ecstasy, stripping away intelligence and the power of speech. They became livestock or beasts in human form. In ancient Voodoo, these zombies were enslaved.
What a barbaric punishment. Better if it never existed.
As Legba said, zombification was far too savage a penalty. That's why modern Voodoo had banned it as taboo. Not just because it was brutal and violent, but mainly due to the potential for abuse.
"Haaak! Haaaaak—!!!"
I stared vacantly at Jeong Yun-ah, now reduced to a zombie. Here before my eyes was the tragedy born from Han Su-yeop breaking that taboo. My chest felt so tight I couldn't even sigh. Biting my lip until it bled oddly brought no pain—just the metallic tang lingering in my mouth.
"Cult Leader."
While I was lost in despair, Kang Ji-a called out to me. Snapping back to reality, I brushed the dust off my clothes and barely managed to stand. I tried to smile, but my lips wouldn't budge. My legs trembled so badly that just staying upright was a struggle. My heart felt like it had sunk into an abyss.
"Let me help you up, sir."
"I'm fine. I can walk."
I waved off Kang Ji-a, who insisted on supporting me. My steps were heavy, like lead weights dragging my feet, but I could manage somehow. It wasn't so bad I needed help. Besides, she was too short to be much use anyway.
"Can you pick that iron-barred door too?"
I pointed at the cell holding Jeong Yun-ah, lit by candlelight.
"Yes, sir. I can."
"Then do it."
"But there's a zombie inside."
"Yeah. That's why I want you to. I'm taking her with me."
"You're taking the zombie?"
"Yes."
Kang Ji-a furrowed her brow, staring at me blankly in confusion. Fair enough—there was no reason to take a zombie along.
"But there's really no need to—"
"I know her."
"Ah, I see."
Once I explained, she hurriedly grabbed the keyring and started picking the lock. In less than a few seconds, there was a click, and the door swung open.
"Kyaaah—!"
In that instant, Jeong Yun-ah lunged at Kang Ji-a. Startled, Kang Ji-a froze rigid without even screaming. I immediately unleashed Voodoo magic, drawing a fainting spell circle.
Thud.
The mist enveloped Jeong Yun-ah, and she collapsed unconscious. Kang Ji-a stared at the fallen girl, her face drained of color as she caught her breath. I pulled out Baal's Maw, stretching its mouth wide, and stuffed Jeong Yun-ah inside. I'd thought it big enough for a person, but I never imagined I'd actually use it that way.
"Let's head back."
I helped the slumped Kang Ji-a to her feet, tucked Baal's Maw into my arms, and left the room, retracing our steps. She followed close behind with quick, short strides.
*
"Oh, you're back?"
After traversing the endless corridor, we returned to the worship hall. My uncle waved us over cheerfully. Han Su-yeop was still bound to the tree root. His face was swollen, blood streaming from his nose and mouth. He'd clearly taken a thorough beating from Uncle in our absence, but I felt no pity. The bastard deserved worse.
I approached Han Su-yeop and yanked him up by his hair.
"Keurk, kuhup! Ha... haa... Haha, ha. Nice to see you, Cult Leader. What an honor in this dump."
Han Su-yeop sneered mockingly. Blood-flecked spit dribbled from his mouth. I stared straight into his eyes—shameless, utterly devoid of remorse. I wanted to gouge them out right then, but it wasn't the time. I still had questions.
"I'll ask, you answer."
"Sure, what could our Cult Leader possibly want to know?"
He smirked insolently. Even facing death, he showed no fear. Resignation, or maybe bravado. Forcing down my churning rage, I spoke.
"There was something weird in that room."
"In the room? No way."
Han Su-yeop's smug expression hardened. He looked up at me with wide, shocked eyes, veins bulging in the whites.
"You opened that door? How?"
"I picked it."
Kang Ji-a pulled out the keyring and jangled it. Dozens of keys clinked together. Han Su-yeop dropped his head in despair. The sight irritated me, so I gripped his hair tighter and hauled him up. His face twisted in pain.
"Grrrr...! Fine. If you opened the door, you must've taken the money too. What's the problem—"
Snap. Pluck.
A few strands of his thinning hair broke off.
"—Aaaah! Let go, you bastard! You're pulling my hair out!"
"What makes you think you can yell?"
"Ow, fuck! Then what the hell did I do wrong?!"
"Zombification."
Han Su-yeop's face went rigid.
"There was a zombie in the room. Means you used the taboo 'zombification,' right?"
"No, I didn't—"
"Why make a zombie? What for?"
He squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to answer. Stubborn resolve. Fine—I'd make him talk. I channeled Voodoo magic to draw a spell circle. Planning to torture him with spells, just like he'd done to Jeong Yun-ah.
"...Sacrifices. I used them as sacrifices."
Before the spell activated, he finally spoke. I dismissed the circle. Nothing beat negotiation.
"Keep talking."
"To escape, or for followers who wouldn't obey—I turned them all into zombies and offered them up."
"Where are those zombies now?"
"Burned to ash. Already sacrificed. That bitch you saw was next on the list for today."
Blood dripped from his mouth as he spoke shamelessly. I shook him by the hair. Snap—a whole clump tore free. Pointless, just venting frustration.
"Jeong Yun-ah."
"Aaaah! Wh-what?!"
"Not 'that bitch.' Jeong Yun-ah."
I corrected him. He looked dazed for a moment, then smirked as he got it.
"Jeong Yun-ah, huh? Didn't know. Didn't need to."
"You've been awfully cocky from the start. Why?"
"You're gonna kill me anyway, right?"
He curled one lip, chuckling derisively. Unnaturally brazen and defiant. No hidden ace—just acceptance of death. But I had no intention of letting him go easy.
"Someday, yeah. Not today."
"Look at you, playing the saint. Don't you get why Voodoo fell? That soft heart of yours."
"Because you cowards ran, obviously."
"Ran? No. We made a choice."
"A choice?"
I snorted in disbelief. He continued.
"You don't know the situation back then. Sacrificing a few was inevitable. For Voodoo's survival."
"'A few'? That's a stretch for 'few' when thousands of innocent believers died thanks to your executives' 'choice.'"
"Few or many doesn't matter. The point is, sacrifice was unavoidable. Same with all those zombies I offered up—just necessary losses for the greater good."
"Oh, I see."
Han Su-yeop believed sacrifices—few or many—were justified for the greater good. Whatever that grand cause was, I neither knew nor cared. No matter his lofty goals, he had no right to sacrifice others on a whim.
"Sacrifice for the greater good. Got it."
"Yeah, finally starting to understand—"
"Means you're fine sacrificing yourself for it too, right?"
I drew out half my Voodoo magic reserves and began tracing spell circles. Nineteen fused and linked into one massive circle.
Your skills have grown a lot since I last checked.
Fusion spell. Exactly as it sounded—fusing multiple spells into one. Ordinary followers struggled with even a single spell, executives barely handled top-grade ones, but as Cult Leader, I could merge them all into something new. A spell only I could wield.
Of course, I couldn't use it often. The power came at a steep cost in Voodoo magic.
Mist poured from the completed circle. Violet mist, so thick it almost looked black. It soon engulfed Han Su-yeop.
"What the— This is a fusion sp...!"
His bellows echoed from the mist, then cut off abruptly. The activated spell was eroding his mind.
"Sacrifice for the greater good. I've got one too, you know."
I didn't enroll at Florence on a whim. Becoming a high cleric to meet my mother was just a stepping stone to a bigger, grander goal. I had my own "greater good," and Han Su-yeop would be its first sacrifice.
"Gaaaah! Guwaaaah!!"
He screamed and vomited. Over a dozen illusory spells—pain, fainting, memory crush, transference—gnawed at his brain. The man who'd preached inevitable sacrifice wailed pathetically, begging for his life now that he was the victim.
I handed Baal's Maw to Uncle, who watched from behind.
"In about five minutes, he'll quiet down. Shove him in then too."
"He dead?"
Han Su-yeop retched up remnants, then stomach acid, then blood. Limbs limp, eyes unfocused. He looked dead at a glance.
"Alive. Barely."
"'Barely alive.' Whoa, deep philosophy there."
Uncle chuckled briefly, then watched Han Su-yeop's end with a blank face. Kang Ji-a observed pale-faced. As I approached, she flinched and stepped back, terror etched on her features.
"What time is it?"
She checked her wristwatch—a cute black digital one.
"10:04, sir."
Her voice trembled. 10:04. Time to head back and crash. Not sure if I'd sleep, though.
(To be continued next time)