Signs of Collapse (3)
Peter's head rolled across the floor and came to a stop, as if even now it were still trying to protest his innocence. His eyes fixed on me for a moment, boring into me, before the light in them finally went out.
Goodbye.
A murderer who had killed his cheating wife and her lover, a man who had wallowed in every kind of depravity—Peter had died in the end with nothing but hollow futility.
Ironically, Peter had spent his life rationalizing his sins under the pretense of the cult leader's orders. In the end, he had only become a puppet of the false cult leader and walked straight into the trap.
From the Seventh Apostle to the Twelfth Apostle, six Apostles were dead. Half of the guards protecting the cult leader had been wiped out in one stroke.
It wouldn't be enough on its own to bring Cheonyang-ji down, but Apostles could always be replaced. Even so, it would take time to regroup, and finding fresh Awakened with real power was never easy, no matter where you looked.
Now.
This is the perfect chance!
I was racing through my next move in my head when a cold blade touched my throat.
The tension that surged through my body was so sharp it raised gooseflesh along one cheek.
The one pressing a sword to my neck was the First Apostle, Yohan.
Fast.
I hadn't even sensed him drawing his blade.
If he'd meant to cut me down, my head would already be gone.
I slowly lifted my head. Yohan was looking down at me from behind his mask.
“……”
He didn't swing his sword, but the killing intent pouring off him was enough to numb my entire body.
Even the other Apostles held their breath at that terrifying display of resolve.
Even after Matthew's death, he hadn't let his guard down. He had already accounted for the possibility of an unexpected turn.
The Apostles couldn't kill unless the cult leader ordered them to.
Which meant Yohan couldn't move anymore.
Good thing I turned their own restriction against them.
Maybe he'd instinctively sensed that something was off. Sitting on the golden chair atop the dais, the cult leader finally spoke.
“Hmm? What's wrong, Yohan?”
His attitude was still unchanged. There was no sign that he suspected me.
Peter's words from earlier came back to me.
“The cult leader can sniff out lies like a damn hound. He's a real god.”
I hadn't believed that at face value. Instead, I'd figured out that he used some kind of magic to read other people's minds.
A mind-reading skill, probably.
So I'd activated God's Aura in advance before entering the cathedral.
There was a character in the comics called Super Girl, the twin pillar of justice alongside Super Kid. Super Girl could wrap her signature chain around someone and force them to tell only the truth—but only Super Kid could resist her power by activating God's Aura.
That absurd comic-book rule had worked in reality, too.
So far, everything is going exactly as predicted.
By slandering one another, we'd cut down the number of Apostles by taking advantage of the confusion. The cult leader had been fooled by the hero's ability and hadn't suspected me.
But Yohan had shown hostility toward me.
Yohan spoke. “Cult leader. May I investigate Judas?”
“Hmm.”
The cult leader stroked his chin as if in thought. Then he nodded.
“If you insist.”
From that short exchange, I learned something else: the cult leader trusted Yohan more than anyone else.
That complicates things.
I had assumed Cheonyang-ji was dancing in the palm of my hand, but there was one person who refused to move according to my plan.
“Get up.”
I did as Yohan ordered.
The other Apostles watched me closely.
I was facing the cult by myself. Even after wiping out half of the Twelve Apostles, the numerical disadvantage hadn't changed.
If, under Yohan's command, all of the Apostles attacked me at once?
A one-on-five fight.
And if the cult leader joined in on top of that?
The result was obvious.
I glanced unconsciously at the cathedral doors.
I had been checking them to confirm an escape route, but...
Would that even work against Yohan?
He might swing his sword at the same speed as before before Infinite Acceleration even had a chance to activate.
He might sever my ankles before I could take a single step.
In that knife-edge moment, Yohan sheathed his sword.
“Judas. Show me your blade.”
He pointed at Heoksikdo.
Then he turned his head and continued, “Simon. Go bring me Matthew's head from the lobby.”
At his command, the Second Apostle, Simon, left the room.
If I do anything careless here, it'll come back to bite me.
I extended my sword.
Heoksikdo—the Black Eater Sword. A divine weapon inherited from Na Sang-min, and a legendary blade carrying the history of an S-class hunter.
Yohan examined Heoksikdo with close attention. He pulled it from the scabbard, gave it a light swing, and even went so far as to sniff the blade.
……
It was, in a way, a disturbingly perverse thing to do, but his expression was so serious it never quite became ridiculous.
“This is your sword?”
“Yes.”
It wasn't really mine, but I didn't bother telling the truth and just gave him a convenient answer.
“There are clear signs of tremendous effort here. The owner of this weapon truly loves the sword.”
Yohan wasn't praising me. He was praising Na Sang-min.
“I can tell he's never once let it leave his hand. I look forward to seeing what becomes of him.”
Inside my mask, I let out a crooked smile.
Too bad the owner of that sword doesn't take it in his hand anymore.
Squeeeak—
At that moment, the cathedral doors opened and Simon returned.
He was carrying Matthew's head.
“Yohan. Here it is.”
It was the neck of a corpse gone pale.
Of course, the one who had turned him into a corpse was me.
Yohan seized Matthew by the hair and lifted the head.
I understood what he was doing.
He's checking the cut surface.
He was determining whether I'd been the one to sever the neck or if someone else had done it.
I had wondered whether he could really tell which sword had been used just from the wound, but...
For some reason, I think Yohan might be able to.
Yohan bent slightly and muttered, “It's rather rough. The edge is uneven, almost like a saw blade. By contrast...”
He raised Heoksikdo.
“This sword could never leave a mark like this. Never.”
I kept my face calm, but inside I let out a breath of relief.
Yohan's deduction was correct. The one who had cut Matthew's neck wasn't Heoksikdo, but White Revenge.
“If you're done checking, please give me back my sword. It's a blade I cherish, after all...”
Just as I muttered irritably and reached out my hand, Yohan suddenly grabbed my wrist.
“!”
He stared hard at my palm and said, “Judas. There are calluses on the fleshy pads under your thumb and little finger.”
In other words, the thickened parts beneath the thumb and pinky.
“That's what happens when you grip a sword in reverse. And...”
Yohan lifted Matthew's head to my eye level.
“Matthew's throat was cut in reverse as well.”
The air grew heavy.
My breathing felt tighter and tighter.
Yohan still suspected me.
The cathedral had fallen deathly silent.
If I say the wrong thing here, my head's coming off.
I had learned that much from my previous life. Life never moved the way you planned it.
What thirty years in a factory had taught me was simple: stay calm in any situation.
I forced myself to regain my composure and opened my mouth. “The Ilsan Hunter Industrial Complex.”
The moment I started speaking, the words came flowing out smoothly.
“I worked for a long time at Factory 4. Hammers, screwdrivers, wrenches, osters, clamps, vises... I've handled so many tools over the years that the calluses formed from that.”
The Apostles were forbidden from talking about their pasts. If they learned one another's identities, the covert organization would collapse.
Even so, I revealed the information.
To prove my innocence.
To clear the suspicion from myself.
“Is that really true?”
“It is.”
……
Yohan remained silent for a long moment.
The truth was, even if you used tools all the time, you wouldn't get calluses only on the specific part he had pointed out.
It was a lie I had improvised on the spot.
Yohan's observation had been correct. Because I'd grown so used to gripping swords in reverse, I'd developed calluses in those exact spots.
But it doesn't matter.
People fear what they don't understand.
Unless Yohan had spent years working in a factory himself, there was no way for him to expose my lie.
“Yohan.”
Someone cut in between us.
It was Simon, who had brought Matthew's head back at Yohan's command.
He was the Second Apostle among the Twelve.
“Something was found beneath Matthew's neck.”
What Simon held out was a small scrap of cloth.
Written on it in blood were these words:
We'll be coming for you soon.
The Apostles mumbled among themselves, covering their mouths.
I even swallowed a mouthful of spit.
The cult leader raised his voice. “What is it? Bring it here!”
This time, I really did feel cornered.
I hadn't written that blood message.
Who? Why?
Was there another faction besides me targeting Cheonyang-ji?
And beneath Matthew's neck, of all places?
When had that been done?
Questions piled on questions in a tightening knot.
The more confused my head became, the harder it was to keep my expression under control.
Was this meant to frame me?
As my thoughts tangled like a ball of string, Simon's rough voice rang out.
“Judging by the structure of the letters, there's a high chance the writer was left-handed. I also examined the handwriting myself. And the conclusion I reached was...”
Simon pointed at me.
“Judas is not the traitor.”
Simon, the Second Apostle of the Twelve. His unexpected words only deepened the confusion.
He's defending me. What the hell is he planning?
Yohan let out a long breath, as if collecting himself.
“Is that so? ...Simon, you've rarely been wrong.”
That was unexpected.
Yohan, who almost never let go of his suspicion, had...
Backed down.
In that moment, I understood the Apostles' power structure perfectly.
Just as the cult leader trusted Yohan, Yohan relied on Simon.
The cult leader's strange voice carried through the cathedral.
“That's enough. Stop there. Now that we've caught that Peter bastard, let it go.”
The cult leader nodded in my direction.
“You had someone impersonating me?”
“Yes. He approached me while working with Peter.”
“Then that bastard's the real culprit. All of you, go catch him first.”
“Yes, cult leader!”
The Apostles answered in unison.
“Oh, right.”
The cult leader pointed at me with short, blunt fingers.
“Judas. Why haven't you brought me Nike's younger sister? Are you defying my order?”
“No, cult leader. We've just had a lot of incidents lately...”
“That's one thing, this is another. Can't you do what you're told faster? I'm already pissed off because we even lost Sua!”
Even as the Twelve Apostles were dying around him and Cheonyang-ji faced a serious crisis, the cult leader was still exposing his obscene appetite and obsessing over women.
Consistency really is impressive, in a disgusting kind of way.
I couldn't drag this out any longer on purpose.
I dropped to one knee and bowed my head.
“I'll bring her back immediately.”
“Then get going.”
The cult leader waved a hand.
“Everyone disperse. Yohan, you stay.”
The Apostles scattered in all directions.
Yohan handed Heoksikdo back to me.
“Here. Take it.”
Cold eyes met me through the mask.
Though the suspicion had barely been cleared, Yohan still had his eye on me.
“I won't apologize. I only did my best to protect the cult leader.”
“I understand, Yohan.”
As I took Heoksikdo back, I made a promise to myself.
Wait. I'll take you down soon enough too.
I left the cathedral and walked down the corridor. The Apostles were ahead of me, chatting among themselves.
“Man. I can't believe Peter was the traitor.”
“He was always a little off in the head anyway. He was obsessed with the cult leader like a fanatic. People like that get even scarier once they snap.”
“Shh. Keep your voice down.”
They fell silent, noticing me watching them.
Among them was one man walking alone.
The Second Apostle of the Twelve.
I approached him.
“Simon. Mind if I have a word with you?”
The one who had deliberately taken my side.
It was time to figure out what the new player was thinking.