Chapter 15
Chapter 15
The Mad Priest of the Slums #15
Surprisingly, it took over an hour just to remove all the posters and photos from the walls. There were simply too many, and trying to take them down without damaging them made the process even slower.
“We should replace the furniture later.”
“I agree.”
The obscene posters and photos of women who clearly looked forced were one thing—
But a leopard-print sofa?
It made me wonder what kind of mind could produce such taste.
“Check over there for a place to store these.”
“Yes.”
Jamie opened one of the doors and went inside, while I checked another.
“…They picked the right person.”
The room I entered—
Was a bedroom.
Completely drenched in pink wallpaper and lighting.
The furniture looked expensive—
But that wasn’t the problem.
Various tools that made their purpose obvious at a glance.
Leather restraints fixed to the bed.
“Priest… over here—”
Jamie came over—
Then fell silent as she saw the same thing.
“…Should we clean this?”
“No. We’ll just sleep on the second floor tonight.”
“A wise decision.”
We turned back immediately.
“You found a storage space?”
“Yes. This way.”
Back in the living room, I followed her into another room.
“This seems to have been used to store funds.”
Unlike the previous room—
This one was filled with safes.
“Can you open them?”
“Some of them will be difficult, but most are fine.”
She pointed at three.
All of them—
Clearly expensive.
“Open them.”
“Yes.”
She pressed her ear against one safe and began turning the dial.
Click—
It took less than a minute.
“Please step outside, just in case.”
Traps were common.
I waited outside.
“You can come in.”
Inside—
The safe was open.
“…Magazines?”
“…You could call them that.”
Instead of asking—
I checked.
“Holy H Issue 21.”
A photo filled the page—
A female priest walking in a robe.
Next page—
Her heading to the bathroom.
Next—
Lifting her skirt.
“…Interesting.”
The rest—
Daily life.
Eating.
Sleeping.
Bathing.
Everything.
Private moments included.
“So you know what this is.”
“…Second time seeing one.”
“First time also from a safe?”
“Yes…”
That was enough.
“…Impressive, in a way.”
No need to ask more.
“Open the others.”
“Yes!”
As she worked—
I flipped through more.
The conclusion was obvious.
“These are sold by temples.”
Street photos were one thing—
But these included temple interiors.
Gods didn’t care much about temples—
But they wouldn’t allow intrusions.
So—
These had to be authorized.
“Jamie.”
“Yes?”
“These are expensive, right?”
“I’ve heard people kill to get them.”
“I see.”
I put them back.
To some—
Worthless.
To others—
Priceless.
Things like this—
Always gain value eventually.
“In the end, nothing of real value.”
Jamie laughed awkwardly.
The safes contained—
Those magazines,
Stamina drugs,
And aphrodisiacs.
All niche.
“Dispose of these tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
I pointed to the drugs.
No need for them here.
“Move the posters here too.”
“Yes.”
She worked quickly.
Like a trained dog seeking approval.
“Jamie.”
“Yes?”
“The women in those photos. Alive?”
“…No.”
“I think the same.”
“….”
She hesitated.
I waved it off.
‘At least there’s a line.’
No children in the photos.
That much—
Was something.
“Now it feels like a slum.”
“…Haha…”
Once everything was gathered—
I bought a black lighter.
Opened the window.
“Priest.”
“I know. Just bring them.”
She brought the photos.
“Hand them one by one.”
“…You’re comforting them.”
“…?”
I blinked.
That wasn’t my intention.
“I’ll help.”
“Go ahead.”
We burned them.
One by one.
Letting the ashes scatter.
“…Hmm.”
Morning.
A familiar ceiling.
“You coughed.”
Jamie stood guard.
“Bring something to read next time.”
“…Haha…”
She didn’t answer.
Likely afraid of consequences.
“Shift schedule?”
“9 AM and 9 PM.”
It was just past 7.
“Let’s get breakfast.”
“…Yes…”
Reluctant.
I got dressed.
We went outside.
The red trail—
Still there.
Bodies—
Scattered.
Likely dead.
“What happens to corpses?”
“Researchers take them.”
That was enough.
Even corpses—
Had value.
We walked.
Found a shop.
“Owner.”
“…Huh—?!”
The man panicked.
“What brings you here—?”
“What do people do in a restaurant?”
“…E-eat?”
I sat.
“Your best dish.”
“Y-yes!!”
He rushed.
“Should’ve ordered for you too?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Ten minutes later—
Food arrived.
“…This is your best?”
“Yes…”
Bacon—
Shriveled.
Bread—
Unrecognizable.
Egg—
Burnt.
“Priest—”
“I’m fine.”
I ate everything.
Then smiled.
“How much?”
“Normally 2,000 Mora… half for you.”
About 200,000 won.
“Drinks?”
“Beer.”
“Bring one.”
He did.
Beer bottles—
Were sturdy.
Enough to break a skull.
THUD—!!
The bottle shattered against his head.
He collapsed.
I tossed the remains aside.
“Handkerchief?”
“…Here.”
“Thanks.”
I wiped my hand.
Looked down at him.
‘Feels refreshing.’
I had held back many times before.
I slipped the handkerchief back into Jamie’s pocket.
“Let’s go to the next place.”