TE 22

A thunderous sound echoed from somewhere.

The noise was so loud it numbed her senses, drowning out even the sound of her own ragged breathing. The reverberations seemed to course through her entire body, tormenting Seo-ha.

Was it from upstairs? Or perhaps the hallway? Where could such a deafening noise be coming from…?

“You’re frightened,” came a man’s voice.

Ah, only then did she realize.

The pounding, deafening sound, was the sound of her own heartbeat resonating from the left side of her chest.

For a grown woman to engage in intimate acts with a man, as long as it didn’t harm others, shouldn’t be cause for such trepidation, even if discovered.

Yet Seo-ha found herself cowering.

Beyond mere embarrassment, a primal fear gripped her entire being.

What if her father found out about this man, about what had transpired? That visceral dread paralyzed her.

As she stood frozen, like Christ nailed to the cross, blinking rapidly and darting her eyes about, it happened.

In an instant, a hand appeared before her face.

Seo-ha, already consumed by fear, was too stunned to recoil from the hand now mere inches from her. Her mind had gone blank.

In that moment, she couldn’t even bring herself to blink.

“Ah…”

A sharp snap pierced the air as the man’s middle finger and thumb collided, flicking right in front of her face.

The air grew thick with tension as Seo-ha’s eyes darted nervously around the room. Her heart raced, pounding against her chest like a trapped bird. Across from her, the man with the tattoo leaned back, his posture oozing arrogance and threat. His piercing gaze seemed to penetrate her very soul, searching for secrets she desperately wanted to keep hidden.

“You’re hiding something, aren’t you?” The man’s voice was smooth yet edged with danger, like a velvet-wrapped blade.

Seo-ha swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. “N-no,” she stammered, cursing inwardly at the tremor in her voice. She knew her fear was betraying her, painting her lies in vivid colors for all to see.

The man’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Really? Your eyes tell a different story.”

Panic surged through Seo-ha’s veins. Her mind raced, searching frantically for a way out of this verbal trap. But each passing second felt like an eternity, stretching her nerves to their breaking point.

Just when she thought she couldn’t bear the tension any longer, the man leaned forward, his face inches from hers. His next words sent a chill down her spine.

“Tell me, Seo-ha,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear, “do you believe in God?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Seo-ha felt the world tilt around her, realizing that this seemingly innocuous query might just be the key to unraveling everything she had fought so hard to protect.

A mere absence of a smile, and the atmosphere shifted dramatically.

The peculiar and seemingly impolite man now exuded a different aura. An additional layer was added to his initial impression – the air around him felt heavy, laden with unspoken gravity.

“Why would you…” Seo-ha began, her voice trailing off.

“Do you want me to save you?” The man completed her thought, his tone cryptic yet compelling.

Seo-ha found herself at a loss for words, unable to formulate a response to this man’s perplexing statements. The atmosphere had become too intense to allow for casual replies.

“From the god that binds you,” he elaborated, his words hanging in the air like a tangible force.

It was then that understanding dawned on Seo-ha.

The ‘god’ this man spoke of wasn’t Jesus on the cross or Yahweh the creator. He was referring to Moon Seok-ho – her father – the man revered as a messiah by his devoted followers.

“I… I don’t… What are you…” Seo-ha stammered, her composure crumbling in the face of this revelation.

The irony wasn’t lost on her. She had always felt suffocated by the sight of the followers blindly worshipping her father, finding their devotion stifling, pitiful, and at times, nauseating. Yet, when faced with the only person who seemed to see through her father’s façade, she found herself hesitating.

This hesitation wasn’t born from fear of her father’s retribution. Rather, it stemmed from a deeper, more complex place.

Her father was no god; he was a fraud. But the fact remained – he ruled over her world with an iron fist, his influence as absolute as any deity’s.

“I’m offering to help you escape that perverted bastard,” the man stated bluntly, his words cutting through the air like a knife.

Despite her own contempt for her father, Seo-ha felt a twinge of discomfort at hearing him described so crudely. The man who controlled every aspect of her existence, no matter how despicable, was being spoken of with utter disregard for his power and influence.

In that moment, Seo-ha found herself caught between her longing for freedom and the ingrained reverence for the man who, despite everything, was still her father.:

An inexplicable emotion surged from deep within, despite knowing how strange it was. The hymns praising her father, which she had grown weary of hearing while bound to the cross, seemed to echo from somewhere distant.

Her conditioned instincts kicked in before she could fully process her discomfort and unease towards this unfamiliar man.

“D-don’t speak so carelessly! You’ll end up in hell!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling.

A violent wave of rejection washed over her, as intense as if her entire world was under threat. She feared that if she allowed this man to invade and disrupt her reality, she might once again find herself bound to the cross, hands and feet tied.

Despite the sharpness in her voice, the man’s eyes gleamed with intrigue as he observed her.

This small, beautiful angel, with her seemingly docile face yet prickly demeanor, glaring at him with eyes reddened as if ready to bite at the slightest provocation, appeared to be a thoroughly indoctrinated fanatic.

“…It pains my heart,” he murmured.

It was indeed disheartening to discover that his love at first sight was a fervent devotee of what seemed to be a cult. But he wasn’t deterred.

‘There’s plenty of time, and you’re beautiful,’ he thought to himself.

“Stop saying such strange things and repent. Unless you truly wish to fall into the fires of hell,” she warned.

“Ah…” Joo-hyuk felt a twinge of injustice.

“This feels a bit unfair,” he said.

“What are you trying to say now?”

“Even when you speak harshly, you’re still beautiful.”

“…”

“Ah, I’ll take back the ‘harshly’ part.”

Joo-hyuk replaced “harshly” with “unkindly” and flashed a smile. With that brief change in expression, the suffocating atmosphere dissipated instantly.

“She might not understand yet, being so young.”

He thought to himself, ‘So she might see a pot-bellied man sleeping with his devoted follower as a messiah. After all, children typically learn what adults teach them.’

Joo-hyuk nodded to himself, trying to comprehend this somewhat perplexing first love. Meanwhile, Seo-ha felt increasingly dizzy the longer she spent time with this man.

She felt constantly swayed by him. Although she knew her father, who had returned home early, wouldn’t come to the church at this late hour, she grew increasingly fearful of being caught with the man.

The very situation of being alone with a man her father hadn’t approved of was dangerous for Seo-ha. Especially if her father were to find out that this man had promised to save her…

“I don’t want to appear pretty to you. And…”

Seo-ha met the man’s bright irises with a resolute expression.

“I’ll decide who saves me.”

“…”

“Today, I have no intention of being saved by you.”

She wondered if the day would ever come when she’d be saved from this living hell.

While Seo-ha was pessimistic about her life and future, if someone were to rescue her from this environment…

She hoped it would be someone of her choosing. And that someone was decidedly not the man standing before her.

“Please leave.”

Seo-ha asked the man once more to leave the church. She had prepared a firm response in case he said something frivolous again, but surprisingly, the man nodded compliantly.

“It’s best to leave some regret; it makes the next time more anticipated.”

“…”

“Let’s say goodbye for today.”

The man spoke as if he and Seo-ha were close friends making casual plans.

A part of her wanted to lash out, to declare there would be no next meeting. Yet, the man’s enigmatic aura—both casual and intense—left Seo-ha feeling oddly intimidated.

Ironically, it was he who had detained her with unnecessary chatter, who had presumed a future encounter. Yet as he walked away, his steps betrayed no lingering attachment.

Seo-ha found herself unconsciously turning to follow his departure, feeling as though she were the one unable to let go.

The whole situation was peculiar, layer upon layer of strangeness.

She struggled to tear her gaze from his retreating figure. He never once looked back, gracefully exiting through the chapel doors where moonlight streamed in.

Beyond, through the corridor’s-stained glass, an image of the Virgin Mary was visible. By some poetic coincidence, it appeared as if the Holy Mother were embracing him.

‘He said he would save me…’

“From the god that binds you.”

From the oppressor who constrains, controls, and suppresses me.

This was different from Ki Tae-beom.

If Tae-beom’s temptation had been sweet, this man’s words were terrifying.

Seo-ha tried not to dwell on why his words instilled such fear in her. She attempted to rationalize it: He was just a strange man spouting nonsense.

That’s why she felt repulsed.

Surely, that was all there was to it.

＊＊＊     

Pastor Moon, who had discreetly slipped out of the church through the back door to avoid Kwon Joo-hyuk, had an appointment today. More precisely, it was a hastily arranged meeting.

Originally, the meeting was scheduled for the day after tomorrow, but the sudden and unexpected appearance of Kwon Joo-hyuk at the church had shocked Pastor Moon. In his panic, he had made a quick phone call to reschedule the meeting to today.

An employee, dressed in a modified hanbok for easy movement, opened the paper-paneled door.

As Moon Seokho stepped inside, he saw a man sitting on a warm ondol floor covered with red silk cushions, who was already enjoying a bite of food. The man greeted him with a smiling face.

“You’re late, Pastor.”

This man was Na Sang-hoon, the General  of the Prosecution Service. Apart from the fact that he served the state, he could be seen as no different from the gangsters who preyed on the public.