Chapter 65: What Are You Doing Here?
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 65: What Are You Doing Here?
“...extremum munus suum perfecit.”
(The final calling is complete.)
Priest Montanus stood frozen as he listened to Lee Yu-jin’s prayer-like murmur.
It was Classical Latin—a language found only in ancient texts, never used in Ecclesiastical Latin. A dead language, and therefore, immutable.
Yet, that dead language seemed to breathe and pulse with life through Lee Yu-jin’s voice, her pronunciation vibrant and alive.
However, it felt alien.
Was it always supposed to be pronounced like this?
Classical Latin has perfectly established vocabulary, grammar, and orthography. It does not change.
Only the pronunciation remains uncertain.
It is impossible to accurately deduce how the language sounded in an era before recording devices existed.
Lee Yu-jin’s pronunciation was different. It was unlike anything he had ever heard.
And yet, it felt natural, as if it were rooted in the very origin of the tongue—as if it had always been meant to be this way.
It made the 'restored pronunciation,' established by countless experts after years of researching historical records and debating, feel awkward by comparison.
Her version felt so undeniably authentic that it was difficult to refute.
Unable to contain himself, Priest Montanus spoke urgently the moment Yu-jin opened her eyes.
“Illam sententiam... unde didicisti?”
(That expression... where did you learn it?)
“E schola linguarum externarum. lingua secunda.”
(In foreign language class. As my second language.)
The moment she turned toward him with a slight smile and answered softly, Priest Montanus felt a ripple crash against his heart.
She was a 'being' so beautiful that even the word 'pretty' felt like an insult.
Priest Montanus closed his eyes and gripped his silver crucifix, fighting the sacrilegious thought that she might be a phantom conjured briefly to manifest the Lord’s efficacy in this world.
Lord, please steady the confusion of this lamb.
He whispered a prayer internally to drive away the blasphemous suspicion that the person before him was something divine, casting it out like a demon.
Priest Montanus finally managed to open his eyes.
The woman of mysterious beauty was simply looking at him with a quiet smile.
The way she tilted her head ever so slightly gave him the impression of an innocent baby angel observing a trivial human out of curiosity.
The priest barely managed to push aside the mental delusion.
She is merely a human, a young girl. I must not be captivated by any more erroneous imaginings.
“Quis tam praeclarus fuit, qui tibi linguam Latinam oblitam doceret?”
(What noble person taught you this forgotten Latin?)
“Qui talem quaestionem faceret, iussit me ita respondere: se ipsum a fide excommunicavisse, ideoque nihil amplius quaerendum esse; solum timere ne omnia circa se pollueret.”
(He told me that if anyone asked, I should answer like this: He is one who excommunicated himself from the faith, so ask nothing more. He only fears that he might defile everything around him.)
The priest flinched, his body trembling.
Perfect grammar.
At the same time, it was a pronunciation and accent he had never heard before, possessing a strange and mystical cadence.
She wasn't just mimicking a few phrases she had picked up.
This girl had mastered Classical Latin more perfectly than even the high-ranking advisors of the Vatican.
It was as if she had been born into the world already possessing it.
Born with it?
A chill ran down the priest's spine. He gripped his silver crucifix, closed his eyes, and hurriedly made the sign of the cross.
The sacrilegious thoughts he had tried so hard to shake continued to taunt his soul.
The thought that the being before him was an idolized religious presence merely imitating a human.
As a clergyman, it was a delusion he could not forgive himself for even entertaining.
Mr. Chris did not tell me this girl was proficient in Classical Latin. He must have simply been unaware.
That wasn't true.
Chris had simply wanted to gift this deeply devout priest the joy of a surprise.
However, the priest’s misunderstanding only deepened.
He murmured Yu-jin’s answer to himself, trying his best to mimic her pronunciation.
“Se ipsum a fide excommunicavisse...”
(He excommunicated himself from the faith...)
Ask nothing. For everything nearby will be defiled.
Finally settling his confusion, the priest opened his eyes, which were now clear and transparent.
“Quo opus bonum effici possit, operam omnem dabo.”
(I will do my best to ensure a great work is created.)
*
At some point, the staff on set had fallen silent, watching the conversation between Lee Yu-jin and the priest.
A mystical, unapproachable atmosphere hung over them, as if the two were sequestered in a world of their own.
They sat across from each other at a table with the script between them, chatting away happily and incessantly.
Yu-jin laughed repeatedly as if something were incredibly fun, and the priest responded with a gentle smile, treating her like a beloved niece.
However, their conversation was in a strange, unintelligible language.
“Wait, are they talking in Latin right now?”
“I think so?”
“Wow, the Elf was that good at Latin?”
“I had no idea.”
The Hollywood staff watched, completely captivated.
Jang Ji-hye also watched with her hand over her mouth in surprise before slapping Lee Yu-seok’s arm.
“Yu-jin isn't just good at French; she’s actually good at Latin? I thought she was just joking when she said it was Latin.”
“Ji-hye Nuna. I thought she was just good at French, too. She said she learned a bit of French as a second language when she was younger. I just thought she was a linguistic genius, but...”
A chief Latin consultant from the Vatican.
And Lee Yu-jin, who possessed the skill to communicate fluently with him, though no one knew where she had learned it.
The sight of the actress and the consultant laughing and debating how to revise the Latin lines in the script filled the staff with a sense of wonder and warmth.
“Lee Yu-seok, you’re filming this well, right? We have to release all of this as making-of footage later.”
“Don’t worry. The camera is rolling.”
The staff assumed that Priest Montanus was working hard to teach Yu-jin, using all his experience, knowledge, and wisdom for the sake of her talent.
However, as they say, life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy in longshot.
The reality was a bit different.
*
I tried to hold it in, but I ended up laughing again.
“Father, is it really okay to use that pronunciation? I’m worried it might look a bit strange on screen.”
How should I put this?
It felt like listening to someone from Gyeongsang-do who had lived in Seoul for ten years say, “How high does this go?” in a thick accent.
“According to the knowledge established by the Pontifical Latin Academy, this is the correct pronunciation. However, since a drama is a realm of fiction, it would be fine to use the pronunciation you have created, Miss Yu-jin.”
The gentle smile never left the priest’s face.
I had apologized several times because I couldn't stop laughing, worried I might offend him, but he didn't seem bothered by it at all.
I’m really, really sorry. I’m not trying to mock you; it’s just an automatic reflex when I hear it...
Since my Latin was tuned to the standards of my mentor from my past life, this priest’s pronunciation and intonation felt like a rustic country dialect from a place without electricity.
And just talking to him made me feel so at ease that laughter kept bubbling up.
Hold it in. Hold it in. Don't laugh. Don't laugh.
“Though it is slightly far from the established Latin pronunciation, the version you have created through your acting spirit sounds more sophisticated and elegant.”
“Oh, really? Then may I use this pronunciation?”
“If it makes the drama better, then of course you should.”
Wow, he’s quite open-minded.
I thought a religious figure would be old-fashioned and refuse to compromise.
I had even braced myself for a potential power struggle, since he was the Latin consultant.
But he was completely accommodating for the sake of the work.
Well, they wouldn't pick a narrow-minded fanatic as a consultant for an external project. He’s a very open person.
[Inquisitor: You ask who I am? I am the spark that follows the sins you have sown.]
“Miss Yu-jin, how about we translate this line like this? Num me quis sim interrogasti? Ego sum scintilla ignis, quae vestigiis peccatorum a vobis seminatarum ambulat atque iudicium secum fert.”
“Ehh, that’s good, but it’s too long. Drama lines are better when they’re as short as possible. How about this? Ego sum scintilla peccati vestri, inexstinctilis (I am the spark of your sin, unquenchable).”
“...”
“Father? What’s wrong?”
The priest, who had been smiling gently the whole time, suddenly looked a bit stiff, which made me worry.
Did I push back too hard?
But Writer Jung Yoon-ah said that if lines are too long, the viewers' heads will explode.
“Minime. Optime est. Ita faciamus.”
(No. It is excellent. Let us do it that way.)
“Ita, ita. Deinde quid est...”
(Yes, yes. And next...)
Communicating only in Latin after such a long time made me feel like I had suddenly returned to my days as a servant.
I thought those were only painful memories, but thinking that they were all build-up for this 13 billion won, the memories were suddenly becoming very beautified.
*
After finishing the Latin consultation, Lee Yu-jin disappeared to get her makeup done.
The smile that had been barely hanging on Priest Montanus’s lips vanished.
He hurriedly rummaged through his bag and pulled out a book.
[Sub secreto (Confidential / Not for Public Disclosure)]
It was a book with the scent of fresh paper, with large letters written in Ecclesiastical Latin.
It was a transcription of the contents of an ancient book kept deep within the Vatican.
A compilation of records by unknown authors, it had been classified as a forbidden book for a long time, its very existence unknown.
It had only been fifteen years since copies were allowed to be taken outside the Vatican.
Even then, it was only possible for those of high rank, like Priest Montanus.
“Inexstinctilis, inexstinctilis...”
He flipped through the pages, searching for the word inexstinctilis (unquenchable) that Yu-jin had just used.
As far as I know, that word does not exist in Classical Latin. But surely, somewhere in this book...
Finally, he stopped at a page.
[Ego sum scintilla peccati vestri]
[inexstinctilis] [Meaning Unknown]
The line Yu-jin had spoken was written there, exactly, down to the last letter.
Along with the red mark next to inexstinctilis that read [Meaning Unknown].
Priest Montanus’s pupils shook violently.
This is... a word that was omitted long ago. How?
*
Wearing full plate mail with a helmet tucked under my arm after so long, it felt like the roar of the battlefield was ringing in my ears.
The interpreter spoke.
“Miss Yu-jin, let me introduce you to the camera director. He is very famous in Korea.”
“Huh? He’s not from Hollywood?”
“To maintain spoiler security, we decided to hire someone locally in Korea. Don’t worry. He’s very tight-lipped and has signed a non-disclosure agreement.”
If they went as far as hiring someone from Korea, he must be a truly talented camera director.
I’ve heard that an actor’s vibe can change completely depending on how the camera director shoots them.
Since Hollywood sought him out, I should make a good impression today.
I was waiting, prepared to be polite and professional, when...
“U-Uncle? Uncle Guk-shin?”
“Yu-jin? Yu-jin!”
“Uncle, what are you doing here?”
“That’s what I want to say! Why are you... Wait, were you the one starring in Game of Sins? Wow, I had no idea.”
We were both utterly bewildered.
“They said they brought in the best camera director in the country, so why are you here, Uncle?”
At that, my uncle looked truly offended.
“I told you before that your uncle is a very successful camera director...”
“That wasn't just a bluff?”