The Conditions of a Believer (1)
A gray building stood in Byeoryang-dong, Gwacheon, Gyeonggi Province.
This was the headquarters of Cheonyangji, known as the Unique Sanctuary.
In the chief elders’ office on the eleventh floor, a phone rang.
A man wearing a clerical robe and rimless glasses picked up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Chief Elder. Someone’s here asking to see the Founder.”
The one who received the report from his secretary was Hwang Min-su, the chief elder of Cheonyangji and one of the Founder’s closest men.
Hwang Min-su frowned. “Do you think the Founder’s someone any random bastard can just waltz in and see?”
“W-well, that’s…”
The other man stumbled over his words before continuing.
“He says he brought a business card.”
“……”
Hwang Min-su pressed his lips together.
The Founder of Cheonyangji was more famous in South Korea than most celebrities, so there was no real need for business cards.
And yet they still made them. Why?
When the Founder wanted to give someone his personal contact information because he’d taken a liking to them, he used a business card.
Anyone who received one had been chosen by the Founder.
That meant the Founder’s business card carried enormous authority within Cheonyangji.
It’s probably a woman again.
Hwang Min-su scratched his forehead.
He knew the Founder’s lustful nature better than anyone, so the guess came easily.
The chief elder’s job was to accompany and assist the Founder.
If the business card was real, he couldn’t just send the visitor away.
“Wait there.”
Hwang Min-su used the remote to switch the TV mounted on the wall.
On the screen, beyond the grainy security feed, he could see the first-floor checkpoint.
A broad-shouldered man with narrow eyes stood in front of the guards.
…It’s not a woman.
The Founder didn’t only give cards to women.
There had been men too—politicians, business magnates, titans of the religious world.
But this man didn’t seem to fit any of those categories.
He looked young, and his clothes were so plain they were almost shabby.
Other than his wide shoulders and rigid posture, there was nothing particularly remarkable about him.
What the hell is this bastard?
The question only deepened.
Still, the chief elder of Cheonyangji had a set way of doing things.
If someone came carrying the Founder’s business card, verification was mandatory.
“Send him up.”
* * *
The guard contacted someone.
He’s probably reporting it to his superiors.
I had my doubts too.
Could a single business card really get me in to see a high-ranking executive of Cheonyangji?
The card was one Se-na had given me.
It was a thin plastic thing with all the signs of age worn into it.
“The Founder gave it to me personally when I was in high school. Told me to join Paradise Garden.”
The Founder had lured her in with the promise of covering her living expenses.
He even reached out to a minor. Just how much of a filthy pervert is this guy?
When I asked why she’d kept it all this time even though it had been ages, she’d answered:
“I used to dream that one day, if I became an Awakened, I’d take down a criminal organization in style. Like Power Woman.”
Se-na had mentioned the name of a famous female hero.
It was kind of funny.
Not just me, but the people around me had all once dreamed of being heroes.
Maybe every child had that same wish at some point.
“After I became a hunter, I drifted even farther from Power Woman. I’m just a salary slave now, stuck worrying about what the guild thinks.”
The Gates had opened, and monsters had begun to emerge as a threat to humanity.
But even now, a small number of humans still carried bottomless malice in their hearts.
Neither the police, nor the Awakened, nor the hunters could judge them.
“Choi Yongki. You can do it.”
Se-na’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
By then, the guard was standing in front of me.
“Please come upstairs. Eleventh floor.”
I took back the business card he handed me and stepped inside.
When I entered the Cheonyangji lobby, the high ceiling immediately drew my eye.
At the center stood something towering and grotesque.
A crucifix in the exact shape of a plus sign, with a skull attached to the top.
It was obviously a structure meant to signal heresy, but none of the people inside seemed to care.
If that thing weren’t there, I might’ve mistaken it for a regular church.
I took the elevator to my destination.
“Welcome.”
Following the secretary’s guidance, I walked down a long corridor.
Armed guards stood watch with grim expressions.
“This way.”
At last, the door opened and I stepped inside.
A man wearing a red clerical robe was waiting for me.
“Welcome to Cheonyangji.”
The smell of something acrid mixed with a faint grassy scent brushed past my nose.
The air was stale.
“I’m Hwang Min-su, chief elder of Cheonyangji.”
“I’m Choi Yongki, D-class hunter.”
There was no point hiding my identity when he’d figure it out the moment he checked, so I said it outright.
“Oh? So you’re a hunter.”
“I’m with the Dio Guild.”
The instant he heard Dio, Hwang Min-su’s expression changed.
“Please, have a seat.”
A black leather sofa faced a low table, and we sat across from each other.
A crucifix made in the exact shape of a plus sign hung on the office wall too.
Noticing my gaze, Hwang Min-su continued, “It’s the symbol of Cheonyangji, and the Founder’s vision of the path of atonement humanity must follow.”
The fact that he could spout bullshit like that without even twitching an eyebrow told me this cult really was the real deal.
Hwang Min-su gave me a benevolent smile and looked at me quietly.
“I heard you brought a business card. May I see it?”
I took out the plastic card.
Hwang Min-su held it up to the light.
A transparent hologram rose to the surface.
“It’s not a forgery.”
He ran his fingers over the card.
“But this is an old version. One of the Founder’s earliest cards. Why didn’t you come sooner?”
Facing the Founder of Cheonyangji was no different from trying to punch through an iron fortress.
If I killed Hwang Min-su right here and burned the Unique Sanctuary to the ground, would Cheonyangji disappear?
No chance.
The Founder would grow even more cautious, then hide away like a rat and expand his own sealed little world.
I couldn’t back down.
If I were turned away now, I’d end up on a blacklist as a person of interest.
How could I reach the Founder of Cheonyangji?
I need to take a gamble.
I’d come this far with Se-na’s help.
From here on out, it depended on me.
What I needed now wasn’t a hero’s power.
It was time to use the cursed talent I’d inherited from my father.
“The Founder wanted me.”
It was a lie.
Hwang Min-su’s hand, which had been touching the business card, stopped.
“When I was in high school, I ran into the Founder by chance during volunteer work. He took my hand and said this.”
I altered my voice a little.
I spoke as if I were impersonating someone else.
“You’ll become a great hunter. When you awaken in the future, come find me.”
Hwang Min-su’s face didn’t change.
That meant one of two things.
He suspected me, or—
He bought it completely.
According to Nike, the Founder had prophetic powers.
Could he really divine the future perfectly?
I didn’t need to verify whether the power was genuine.
Instead, I’ll use it.
I picked up the business card lying on the table.
“The Founder prophesied that one day I’d join the Twelve Apostles. He even told me, specifically, to come to the Unique Sanctuary today. I only did what the Founder ordered.”
One side of Hwang Min-su’s cheek twitched.
“How about it? Was I right to come here?”
One of the Twelve Apostles, Nike, was dead.
The fact of his death had already spread publicly.
But very few people knew Nike had been a believer of Cheonyangji.
By exploiting that gap in information—
I’m manipulating the narrative.
It was a sly psychological play from the beginning, carefully calculated.
Hwang Min-su’s eyes wavered.
He was standing at the center of a seesaw now.
There were too many suspicious points to accept me outright.
But if he pushed me away, he would be denying the Founder’s omniscience.
The way Hwang Min-su chose to handle that dilemma was simple.
“I haven’t treated you properly as a guest, have I?”
He spoke into the intercom.
“Bring something to drink. Something special.”
Not long after, the secretary came in carrying a tray.
She set two glasses on the table.
One liquid was blue.
The other was red.
“Tea cultivated in Paradise Garden. Made from the blood and sweat of our believers.”
A chill ran down my spine.
Two years from now.
A tragedy would occur that would go down in history.
The Cheonyangji mass suicide incident.
To prove his apocalyptic prophecy, the Founder would make 1,000 believers drink tea laced with cyanide.
914 of them would die.
That was the biggest reason I wanted Cheonyangji destroyed so badly.
“Each one has a distinct flavor. Hunter Choi, please choose whichever suits your taste first. I’ll drink the one you leave behind.”
I couldn’t rule out the possibility that the tea had been poisoned.
And I had no talent that could neutralize poison.
Maybe there was a hero skill called Ten Thousand Poison Needle or something like that.
But I haven’t gotten it yet.
Hwang Min-su’s sharp gaze speared into me.
He was testing me.
Making me choose a glass first.
Then, if he drank the other one afterward…
That means one of them is poisoned. No—maybe both are poisoned.
An ominous image formed in my head.
Hwang Min-su looking down at me after I collapsed from the tea.
My choice was simple.
I downed both glasses back-to-back.
I drank the blue tea, then gulped the red tea right after it.
Red and blue liquid spilled down my throat.
Clink.
I set the glasses down and wiped my mouth.
“They’re both bitter.”
Hwang Min-su stared blankly at me for a second, then burst into laughter.
“Kahahaha!!”
After laughing for a long time, he finally stopped.
“There are two absolute conditions for the Twelve Apostles. Do you know what one of them is? Faith. Trust in Cheonyangji. Fanatical devotion to the Founder!”
Hwang Min-su extended a hand toward me.
“I like you, Hunter Choi. I’ll put in a recommendation for the Twelve Apostles.”
I took his hand.
“Ah… thank you. But what about the other condition?”
The second condition for joining the Twelve Apostles.
Hwang Min-su raised one finger.
“You have to be a master of the sword.”
The road ahead still wasn’t over.
The only sword I’d ever used was the white demon blade, White Revenge.
Even then, I’d just swung it with the reverse edge whenever I felt like it.
I’d never properly learned the sword.
“Someone like you should pass that part without trouble. In fifteen days, we’ll hold the admission examination for the Twelve Apostles. The seat’s for one person only. I’ll be rooting for you.”
Fifteen days from now.
Could I really become a master of the sword in just two weeks?
To become a swordsman, you had to train steadily for more than twenty years starting in childhood.
I’d be better off fighting with my fists.
I clenched my teeth inside.
But I kept my poker face and turned away.
“See you as one of the Twelve Apostles next time.”
* * *
The moment I stepped out of the Cheonyangji building, I reached into my jacket and pulled something out.
A fluorescent potion.
It was the same model Nike the instructor had once given me.
It could heal wounds, track whoever drank it—
And it had one more function.
Antidote.
If you used the chitin shell of a Pin Scorpion, you could make a potion that cured poison.
Either way, I finally let out a breath of relief.
Good thing I came prepared, just in case.
I hadn’t drunk whatever tea Hwang Min-su gave me blindly.
I’d had a safety net, so I could prepare properly before pulling off the stunt.
“Still.”
One problem after another.
Was there a way to pass the test in such a short time?
After a long bout of thought, I called someone.
“Hello.”
A bristling voice answered.
“Choi Yongki?”
A hunter who had once been a master of the sword before returning to the spear.
The mad dog of the Dio Guild, and an S-class hunter.
Na Sang-min.
“Teach me how to use a sword. It’s urgent.”
All kinds of foul curses erupted on the other end, so I briefly pulled the phone away from my ear.