They Say Fear Comes from Ignorance
As Ha Su-yeong watched Do Seon-woo approaching her, a sudden thought flashed through her mind. They say fear comes from ignorance—like the dread that grips you when staring into the abyssal depths of the ocean or the vast expanse of space, because you can't predict what might lurk there.
She had no idea why that popped into her head right then.
"Ha Su-yeong."
"Y-yeah? Yes?"
Do Seon-woo called her name. Still collapsed on the ground, she nodded frantically, barely managing a response. She didn't have the courage to lift her head and look at his face.
That's when it hit her anew. Do Seon-woo was better at voodoo than she was. He could probably use spells she didn't even know. Maybe he knew how to turn people into zombies without zombie powder. Who knew? She couldn't even guess what punishment he might inflict on her. She couldn't predict a single thing he might do.
Fear comes from ignorance. The thought resurfaced.
"Lift your head."
"...Sorry, no. I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Lift your head. Now."
Ha Su-yeong stayed frozen, head bowed. It felt like something terrible would happen if she looked up.
Then, suddenly, a light appeared above her. Not the dim, murky glow of voodoo magic. This was blindingly bright, pure white light that stung her eyes.
She'd heard the cult leader could wield not just voodoo magic, but divine power too. According to her father, Romanica clergy had invented unspeakably cruel tortures using divine power. Was Do Seon-woo about to torture her with it right now?
Her stomach churned. Better to die than endure torture. No, she didn't want to die. Better to become a zombie? No, not that either. She hated all of it...
Even as these thoughts raced, Do Seon-woo kept the light trained on her. No choice but to beg for forgiveness until he relented. Ha Su-yeong straightened her posture, kneeling properly.
"I was wrong. I won't do it again. For real."
"Enough. Lift your head."
"I was wrong. So wrong. Can't you forgive me now? I've done all this. I'm even on my knees—!"
Ha Su-yeong screamed, finally snapping her head up mid-apology. Instant regret. The light from Do Seon-woo's hand was still aimed right at her.
Ah, my sixteen years of life end here. It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't bad...
Convinced of her doom, she squeezed her eyes shut.
Click!
But what echoed was the unmistakable shutter sound of a camera.
Unable to comprehend, she opened her eyes and looked up. The bright light was gone. A faint smile played on Do Seon-woo's lips, softly veiled by the forest shadows.
"...Flash?"
Ha Su-yeong belatedly realized what the light had been. Not voodoo magic or divine power—just a camera flash.
Enlightenment brought a wave of hollow relief. Do Seon-woo fiddled with his phone a few times, then extended a hand to her.
"Get up. Time to go."
"Wh-why'd you take a picture...?"
Her voice trembled, tension still uncoiling. Do Seon-woo stared at her coldly, without a flicker.
"Just in case."
"Just in case?"
"Too annoying to explain. Hurry up."
He shook his hand impatiently. She didn't want to touch it. Part of her wanted to slap it away or yank him down and slam him into the dirt. But she had no strength left. Even standing felt impossible, her legs like jelly.
"You want me to leave you here?"
"..."
With no choice—really no choice—Ha Su-yeong took his hand and stood.
*
10:50 PM. In a meeting room where pale moonlight seeped through the windows, the executives from each diocese sat around a round table. Amid their casual chatter and businesslike smiles, only Ha Pan-seok's face was ashen and sickly pale.
"Ha Pan-seok, what's wrong?"
Lee Jin-seong finally asked, unable to ignore it. Ha Pan-seok, who had been gnawing his nails bloody with his head down, jerked it up. His eyes were unfocused, hair disheveled. Whatever it was, he looked utterly panicked.
"Ha Pan-seok?"
"...My daughter."
Lee Jin-seong pressed again, and Ha Pan-seok barely forced out the words.
'Daughter'? What about her? Lee Jin-seong narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Ha Pan-seok's face. It had grown even paler, shifting from bluish to purplish.
"Something happen to your daughter?"
"Y-yes. Su-yeong... she snuck off to the mountain without telling me earlier, and she still hasn't come back..."
Scrape!
Lee Jin-seong shoved his chair back violently and shot to his feet, already gearing up to leave. Ha Pan-seok stared at him blankly.
"I'll go check inside and bring her back."
Lee Jin-seong's eyes burned with intensity.
"Don't go."
But Yun Chang-su from the Gangwon Diocese grabbed him. Lee Jin-seong glared with bloodshot eyes.
"You want to just let her go missing?"
"The previous cult leader's spells have twisted all the mountain paths around here. Step out, and even you'd get lost, Lee Jin-seong."
"Still, we can't just sit here. We're adults."
"The mountains don't care about kids or adults."
Yun Chang-su sighed deeply.
"Right now, all we can do is pray she comes back..."
Mountains like these could make anyone lose their way in a blink, adult or child. Yun Chang-su had spent decades in these hills. He knew better than anyone how dangerous it was to venture in at night.
"I'm going anyway."
Brushing off the warnings, Lee Jin-seong headed for the door. He couldn't just sit idle.
Then someone blocked his path.
"...Huh? What're you doing?"
"Meeting's starting. Where you off to?"
"Ha Pan-seok's daughter went missing in the mountains or something..."
Lee Jin-seong glanced at the girl clutching Do Seon-woo's hand. Name was... Ha... Ha something. Didn't matter—Ha Pan-seok's daughter.
"Why're you with her?"
"Found her lost. Bumped into her on the mountain."
"Oh... good job. Was just about to go look."
Lee Jin-seong glanced back. Ha Pan-seok still looked dazed.
"Ha Pan-seok! The cult leader found your daughter."
"...My daughter? Su-yeong? You mean Su-yeong? She's back?"
"Yes. She's here."
Ha Pan-seok scrambled up and rushed over. He saw his daughter standing beside the cult leader, head bowed. Tears came before words—an overwhelming relief.
But relief gave way to something new churning in his chest. Toward his daughter, who had slipped into the wild mountains wordlessly and nearly caused disaster: a tangled fury, resentment, who knew.
"We'll talk later. Meeting first."
"...Yes."
Do Seon-woo read Ha Pan-seok's twisted expression and quickly sent Ha Su-yeong back to the dorms. Ha Pan-seok staggered to his seat, deflating like a punctured balloon.
Do Seon-woo took the head of the table and eyed him.
"Ha Pan-seok. You holding up okay?"
"Pardon? Ah, yes. Fine..."
Still? The word choice felt off, but Ha Pan-seok had no room to parse it. Calming himself was hard enough.
Do Seon-woo nodded faintly at the dazed man, checked his phone.
"It's 11. Let's start the meeting."
Right on time.
*
The longer the meeting dragged, the more every issue boiled down to one: dwindling followers, intensifying pressure from the Papal Court, and the resulting cash crunch strangling operations.
The Jeolla Diocese, with its factories, was faring better, but Chungcheong and Gangwon were in dire straits.
"How's Seoul holding up?"
Yun Chang-su asked. Not me—my uncle.
Uncle crossed his arms, paused, glanced at Ha Pan-seok, then spoke.
"Met Han Su-yeop recently."
The table murmured at the bombshell.
"That traitor Han Su-yeop? What was that bastard up to?"
"Yeah. He'd stolen the cult leader's altar and started some fake cult called Voodoo Reincarnation Church. Confiscated all his hoarded donations, so Seoul's flush."
Uncle said it casually, but the table was in chaos. Hearing a traitor's name from his mouth stunned them.
The executives' views of me varied. Yun Chang-su and Gyeongsang's Yuk Eun-hyeong were friendly; Yeom Man-geun and Ha Pan-seok hostile. But they all united in hating the 'traitors' who fled during the Holy War.
"What happened to him?"
Yeom Man-geun asked amid the uproar. 'What happened' to Han Su-yeop.
Uncle furrowed his brow, eyes darting as he parsed the dialect, then nodded.
"The cult leader personally sentenced him to zombification."
"Zo-zombification!"
Yeom Man-geun choked. Voodooists feared zombification more than death. They didn't fear dying—but losing the freedom to choose it. What they truly dreaded was the stripping of liberty, not pain or death.
"Betraying Voodoo warrants zombification. He'd have expected it."
Yun Chang-su nodded. Ha Pan-seok, beside him, stiffened.
"Traitors later. Financial crisis first."
"Agreed, cult leader."
I steered it back. Yuk Eun-hyeong nodded. I got their curiosity about Han Su-yeop, but time was short for money talk.
As the noise died, I eyed Yeom Man-geun.
"On finances, something I told Yeom Man-geun."
"Well... I heard ya, but..."
He mumbled uncertainly. My words hadn't stuck—too complex for one hearing.
"I'll explain."
"Nah, no need. I can..."
"It's fine. Gotta show the executives anyway."
Yeom Man-geun, squirming uncomfortably, finally relaxed with a smile. No explaining for him.
I grabbed a nearby book—Uncle's tattered economics tome—and infused it with voodoo magic, engraving a fainting spell. Engraving.
A subtle, eerie purple haze emanated from the book. Yun Chang-su tilted his head.
"...May I ask what you did to the book?"
The others stared puzzled. I pressed the cover down against wind, spoke.
"This engraves spells into objects. I call it 'engraving'."
"Into objects...? Like the second cult leader used—!"
"No, different from Father's technique."
I opened the book. Spell mist seeped out. I herded it to a corner to keep them from inhaling.
Their eyes widened. I continued.
"Engraving activates the spell when conditions are met. Engrave in a book, it triggers on opening. Like pulling a trigger fires a bullet."
"So engrave in a gun, pulls trigger to activate?"
"Yes. If we had guns."
Ha Pan-seok's idea surprised me—never considered it. Might work, but no guns now. Pipe dream.
"Yeom Man-geun runs a soju factory, right?"
He nodded silently. I took a bottle from him via Uncle, engraved a toned-down intoxication spell—minimal addiction and pleasure.
Shook it lightly, showed them.
"Mass-produce this at your factory, sell it. Selling spells."
"...Isn't intoxication taboo?"
Yuk Eun-hyeong asked hesitantly. I nodded.
"Yes. But unlike Father's ban, Voodoo's now persecuted by Romanica. We need to ease restrictions."
Intoxication's pleasure melts brains, breeds addiction. Father banned it fearing spells controlling people. But now? Facing ruin from finances and oppression. For revival, resistance—change was needed.
"Not defying Father. Permit only minimal-pleasure versions, no addiction."
"Minimal pleasure...?"
"Standard intoxication stays taboo. Only lowest intensity allowed. Meaning, those who can control intensity can use it."
Post-inheritance, I could adjust spell strength—including intoxication pleasure. Others couldn't. Basically, only I use it. Selfish? Tough—learn to control or deal.
"Continuing. I'll engrave intoxication spells into Yeom Man-geun's factory products—"
Engrave his soju. One in five bottles. Expand his business. 40% profit to Jeolla, 20% Seoul, 40% split among others.
Ha Pan-seok eyed Yeom Man-geun cautiously.
"Fine for us, but Yeom Man-geun's say matters..."
True—his business directly.
"Yeom Man-geun already agreed wholeheartedly. Grateful."
He'd eagerly joined. Competitors stressing him; enchanted products would crush them, boost sales. Win-win.
Religious, but businessman. His buy-in meant viability. I'd met him early for approval and his business eye.
"One more thing."
But this was long-term. Short-term next.
"Seoul's flush from Han Su-yeop's assets. After ops and savings, rest divided among executives."
"Wha—no, cult leader. Wait."
"But reinstating the tribute system, suspended post-Holy War."
Tribute system. Periodic offerings of local specialties as sacrifices to Seoul. Like tribute.
Vanished with Voodoo's fall. Time to revive. Strengthens cult leader via Loa power, eases local control, prevents rebels.
Expand Yeom's profits for long-term fix. Distribute Seoul surplus short-term, leverage to revive tributes. Smooth sacrifice flow, boost Loa, reinforce authority.
Solid plan.
*
The meeting ended amicably. Cult leader's clever fixes: Yeom's profits for long-term solvency, Seoul surplus for short. Free money for sitting pretty—they praised me lavishly.
"That bastard Yeom Man-geun...!"
But Ha Pan-seok seethed inside. His rebellion ally Yeom defected; worse, cult leader threatened tribute revival.
Tributes empower Loa first—cult leader's personal might surges. But more: He set profit splits. Surplus splits. Finance power centralized. Reviving tributes meant quality-based allocations—pitting dioceses against each other.
System to check locals. Clear warning to rebels—like him.
"Rotten bastard..."
Cult leader saw crisis as chance to consolidate. Maybe even knew Chungcheong led rebels. Worst case, retaliation now...
Knock knock.
Ominous thought hit with the knock. Ha Pan-seok held breath, straining for footsteps. Yeom? Uncle? Cult leader himself?
No panic. No tension. Even if cult leader, no flinch. That'd be giveaway—like a thief stumbling.
One waver, he'd confirm suspicions, strike...
"Who is it?"
Calm as ice, he opened the door slow.
Just darkness beyond. A man strode in on the rushing shadows, no hesitation. Like entering his own bedroom.
So rude—yet Ha Pan-seok silent.
"...To what do I owe, cult leader."
The intruder: the cult leader himself.
"Didn't you know it was me?"
Cult leader smiled mildly, but eyes sharply scanned his face.
(To be continued next time)