Chapter 6
Chapter 6
The Mad Priest of the Slums #6
The ride of the carriage was, surprisingly, excellent.
Not just decent—truly excellent.
To the point that compared to the patrol car I had briefly ridden earlier with Officer James—assuming he still held that position—the difference was far greater than expected.
It almost felt like the back seat of that patrol car had been driving over unpaved roads.
‘Thinking about it, it makes sense.’
One was a vehicle used by low-ranking officers.
The other was a carriage confidently waiting for passengers right in front of the district where all the temples of this city were gathered.
Looking at it that way, it was only natural that the carriage felt far superior.
“We’ve arrived~”
While I was watching the city scenery through the curtain, the driver stopped the carriage and spoke through the small window connecting to the driver’s seat.
“How much?”
The driver, who looked younger than expected, gave a bright smile.
“It’s free today.”
“Thank you.”
If I didn’t have to pay, there was no reason to insist.
But I did want to know why.
After stepping down, I walked up to him and asked,
“Why didn’t you charge me?”
“I may not look like it, but I’ve got a good memory. I remember every priest in Oracle. But I’ve never seen you before.”
“I see.”
He cleared his throat slightly.
I held out my left hand.
He took out a stiff piece of paper about the length of a finger and carefully placed it on my palm with both hands.
I thought it was a business card, but it was just a well-coated blank sheet.
“If you need a carriage, call me anytime! Only 10,000 Mora and I’ll take you anywhere!!”
10,000 Mora.
Even in Korea, where prices had skyrocketed, a taxi wouldn’t cost a million won.
“If I need you, I’ll call.”
“Thank you!!”
He bowed his head and didn’t raise it, even as I walked away.
‘If I need it later, I’ll use it then.’
I tucked the paper into my chest pocket and headed toward the boundary that was impossible to ignore.
I could hear the driver calling out behind me, but it wasn’t my concern.
‘Interesting.’
The border between District 10 and 11 was a soft, swirling fog.
Whether it was truly fog or not didn’t matter—it looked like smoke, so I called it that.
“Hey!”
A rough voice called out, followed by the sharp sound of approaching footsteps.
“This country bumpkin—oh!”
A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, turning me around. The rough-looking man immediately let go when he saw the rosary around my neck.
“Hehe! This lowly man greets the priest!”
He bowed so deeply his forehead nearly touched the ground.
“It’s fine. This is actually my first time in Oracle.”
“It seems the brothers and sisters have been very busy.”
“Yes.”
Vivian didn’t look busy at all, but I didn’t bother correcting him.
“Priest, from here onward is a place full of filthy and disgusting people.”
“I know.”
“You know…?”
Judging by his reaction, the slums were worse than I imagined.
“I want to go to District 11.”
“W-wait! Priest! You’re really going in there?”
“Is there a problem?”
“That’s—!!”
He raised his voice but quickly shut his mouth when the rosary around my neck swayed slightly.
“They’ve given permission, but…”
Smack!
He slapped his own forehead with a hand like a frying pan.
“…Please wait a moment. It looks like ordinary smoke, but it’s quite deadly if you touch it.”
“Alright.”
He wiped his face repeatedly and entered a nearby building that looked like a bar.
‘Poison?’
I kicked a small stone into the fog.
Sssss—
The moment it touched the fog, it melted and disappeared.
‘So that’s what he meant by deadly.’
Anyone walking in blindly would die instantly.
And yet he called it merely “deadly.”
That made me even more curious.
“Priest! It’ll take a bit longer—would you come inside for now?”
Standing was boring anyway, so I went inside.
“It’s shabby, but please sit.”
“Feels like I’m interrupting business.”
“Not at all! Haha!”
Tables still had food and alcohol left on them.
He quickly moved to block my view.
“Um…”
“You can ask anything.”
“It’s not me… our boss…”
“You’re with Mad Dog.”
“In a labyrinth city like Oracle, we can’t stay cooped up inside.”
That made sense.
“Priest?”
“Go ahead.”
“Could you reconsider going there?”
“…No.”
He looked desperate.
Likely worried about consequences if something happened to me.
But—
I wasn’t planning to change my mind.
Riiing—
A phone rang.
He rushed to answer it.
“Yes… understood.”
He returned.
“You can go now.”
“Seems someone came to escort me.”
“Haha…”
When we stepped outside—
The fog was gone.
In its place—
An old, worn-down street.
‘Mafia?’
Unlike the quiet side, District 11 was filled with people in black suits and fedoras.
All armed.
Black sedans lined the street.
“Priest.”
A woman approached.
“You may ride here.”
I followed her and got into one of the cars.
“Heh, what a day.”
Someone was already inside.
“Nice to meet you, young priest.”
A bald, bulldog-faced middle-aged man extended his hand.
“I’m Benjamin. Boss of Mad Dog.”
“Baek Jinhyuk. Priest of Bishua and Verdia.”
“Haha!!”
He burst into laughter.
“Let’s go.”
The cars began moving.
“To be honest, I’ve never heard of a priest serving two gods. But seeing your rosary and that scale… I believe you.”
He took out a cigar, then paused and glanced at me.
“Is it alright?”
“Not too strong.”
“I’ll give you some later. You’ll get used to it.”
He put it away.
“I guarantee no one here will seek you out willingly. Why not go back before things get ugly?”
“I appreciate the concern. But hear me out first.”
“Go on.”
I had two reasons for coming here.
First—
The main stage of those who possess characters would be the “light side.”
Priests usually fall out of favor later.
I had no intention of getting caught in that.
“I plan to make people like you my clients.”
“Clients? Not a word priests usually use.”
“I’m a bit unusual.”
“Continue.”
“Bring me someone who won’t talk… and I’ll make them talk.”
“…So you’ll extract information from traitors?”
“Yes.”
“As long as I get what I want, I don’t care how.”
“Exactly.”
He stroked his chin.
“Then let’s make a bet.”
“A bet?”
“If you succeed, I’ll fully support you here.”
“Agreed.”
“And if you fail?”
“No need to say it.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Confidence, I hope—not arrogance.”
“I’ll prove it.”
“Good. Then—”
“I need some preparation first.”
He gestured.
“What do you need?”
“Is there a brothel here?”
“Of course. But careless fools die here.”
“Good.”
I needed someone famous.
“For smoother operations.”
“Then take me to the most famous one.”