Satanas Chapter 3.1 - Sinking

It was exactly the third day since he had sent an owl to the Vatican on Christmas Day. An owl from the Papal States flew to the very top of the Roman Catholic monastery’s spire. Tadeo, who was in the middle of scraping off bird droppings that had stained the red brick wall and the perch, received the letter. He tore open the letter right there in the spire, which reeked of a foul stench.

It was a dispatch order sent before the request he had sent to be assigned to Joseon. The contents seemed quite urgent, with the writer having already looked into sea passage. After checking the letter, Tadeo extended an empty hand to the owl that was sitting on the perch, pecking away. At that, its sharp beak painfully bit his hand.

“Ouch.”

Tadeo hastily withdrew his hand. As a reward for its long flight, he placed a handful of feed and a dead mouse before it.

“Sorry. Eat this, at least.”

As soon as he offered the food, the owl dug its beak in and began to eat ravenously. Tadeo watched with a satisfied face, sucking on his hand from which blood was seeping.

Descending the spiral stone staircase, he ran without rest toward the towering spire opposite him. Although he had to stop whenever he encountered monks in the corridors who greeted him.

“You are returning to your motherland.”

Paul, the Bishop of London for the Roman Catholic Church, said as he read the dispatch order he had been handed.

“Thank you for everything until now, Your Grace.”

“Wherever your path may lead, God will be with you, Tadeo.”

“Amen.”

Tadeo bowed his head beneath the words conveying God’s blessing. Paul left him with the words to spend the little that was left of the year in comfort, and promised to find him a safe ship. He patted Tadeo’s shoulder a few times and walked past. In the open sky above the wide lawn, the clear sound of the monastery’s bell announcing noon echoed.

🦇

The white mounds of clouds, moving slowly with the wind, covered the sun. The sky, which had been a tangle of dark clouds for some time due to the terrible smog, fog, and on top of that, bad weather, was a rare shade of sapphire blue. An old building in Kensington Gardens, gloomy even in broad daylight, had seen no one come or go as the year turned. Even when the sunlight, in full bloom, shone upon its large windows, only floating dust was visible.

1896, on a day heading into late January. The fireplace, with nothing left to burn, spewed a chill from its blackened mouth. The bookshelf and the piled books were covered in a pale layer of dust. The table was still a mess, and a milk stain remained on the red carpet.

A single finger, sticking out from beyond the carpet, twitched. And then, another twitch. The fluttering eyelashes gently rose, revealing unfocused eyes. The jet black pupils were like a silenced maelstrom in the middle of a night sea. The well-formed lips, which would have originally been apricot-colored, were as black as if he had eaten ashes. A pale hand pushed against the dirty wooden floor.

His elbow rose and his spine arched up. His shoulder blades, like a steep mountain range, rippled, and golden hair spilled down like a landslide from beneath his lowered head. As his outstretched legs stood straight, the indigo gown he had been wearing fell to the floor with a thud. At that, the dark, necrotic skin was revealed.

“Good heavens, is he really dead?!”

The sound coming from outside the front door at the bottom of the stairs was clamorous.

“No matter how great the pain of a broken heart is! Suicide is a problem, you know. It’ll bring down the rent!”

Bell slowly raised his head. As if stiffly set, a creaking sound was made from tough muscles rubbing against each other. Jjigeok. As he moved his neck this way and that, his disheveled hair naturally fell into place. Ujeok, ujeok. A sound like chewing on wood could be heard. Black feathers were covering the necrotic skin that had spread to his shoulders.

“Aigoo. Just climbing up here is tiring now!”

Mrs. Morita, who had picked the lock and entered, climbed the stairs and caught her breath. Bell, whose gaze had been on the form reflected in the stained glass, glanced down at his own body. The black feathers that had crept up to his neck trembled and then scattered in all directions in an instant.

“Hey, Bell!”

The door burst open. Through the feathers scattering and floating to pieces, Bell’s white, smooth, half-naked body could be seen. Mrs. Morita stood blankly, only blinking her eyes. Bell just stared in silence. He planned to kill her if she made a fuss.

“What is all this! Did you slaughter a turkey in here or something?!”

Mrs. Morita put her hands on her hips and got angry. While whining that her back hurt, she began to pick up the fallen feathers. It was a thought that always occurred to him, but she was a truly strange woman. Was she eccentric, or was she dim-witted. Bell withdrew his silent stare and turned away. Or maybe, she was just stupid.

“The state of this house is one thing, but the state of you is even more terrible! Did you two break up for good?”

The hand picking up the fallen gown paused for a moment. But he soon picked up the gown, put it on, and walked to the window without a word.

“Looks like you got dumped.”

“…too much.”

At the mutter that was loud enough for him to hear, Bell opened his mouth. His mouth was so dry that the words did not come out easily.

“What was that?”

“You talk… too much.”

Turning his body that had been facing the window, he reached a hand out to the table. Finding nothing to wet his throat, Bell frowned.

“Honestly, not a single bit of charm in you! That’s why your lover ran away!”

“Hah…”

I should have just killed her. His head throbbed at her sharp voice. Bell let out a deep sigh and sat on the sofa. Among the ladies of Kensington Gardens, Bell and Tadeo were a subject of interest. The reason was partly because two perfectly fine men were living together, skin to skin, but also because they had a keen sense that their strange atmosphere was not ordinary.

In truth, the reason their relationship was on everyone’s lips was not solely due to Bell’s appearance. Tadeo, who was in a position where celibacy was demanded of him as a priest, played a part, for the reason that this inappropriate combination multiplied forbidden fantasies.

“Tadeo stopped by a few days ago in the morning. He paid next month’s rent and said he was worried about you.”

Bell, who had been rubbing his temples, shot his eyes wide open.

“Wait here. I’ll bring you some tea. I’m not a person who normally does this kind of thing, but I’m doing it because you remind me of my son!”

Mrs. Morita entered the kitchen, patting her back. ‘Good heavens, look at the state of this kitchen.’ He vaguely heard her sound of shock, likely after seeing the dining table. Bell, who had been sitting in silence, stood up with a dazed face and took steps without a sound.

“…The words he left behind.”

“You startled me!”

At the sudden voice, Mrs. Morita turned around and screamed in surprise.

“Th-there are. H-he told me not to say…?”

Mrs. Morita furtively watched him as she set down the teacup. When Bell took a step forward without a word, she squeezed her eyes shut. The silent gaze felt like it was strangling her, making her chest feel tight. Her rouge-painted lips trembled ceaselessly. Then, as if to tell him not to come any closer, she held out her hand and shouted.

“He said he’s going to Joseon!”

Bell stopped his steps.

“And that he would… never… ever return.”

Dalggak, dalggak. The teacup placed on the countertop and the plate with biscuits on it began to shake. Mrs. Morita only rolled her eyes to look at the tableware moving on its own. ‘Heek,’ she then made a strange sound and her face filled with fear.

Only when Bell spun around did the trembling subside. The hem of his gown and his hair fluttered behind him. When only his form was reflected on the opaque glass door, the gown he was wearing came off by itself.

With every heavy step he took, articles of clothing flew from somewhere and draped themselves onto his body. Although it was all just a shadow-like silhouette, Mrs. Morita rubbed her eyes at the sight that was hard to believe even after seeing it.

Only when Bell’s figure disappeared did she come to her senses and run out of the kitchen. A hat that flew from the stand coat rack brushed past her face. Bell, catching the black top hat in mid-air, pressed it onto his head and looked at Mrs. Morita.

“Bell, it’s no use…. The ship has probably already left.”

However, Bell grabbed the doorknob and turned it without a single word. Behind him, who had slipped out like the wind, the crack of the slowly closing door narrowed. Mrs. Morita, who had been watching blankly, jumped in surprise at the dalkak sound of the door closing.

When she hurriedly followed him out, Bell was already gone without a trace. On the corridor railing where only a chilly wind lingered, Mrs. Morita covered her mouth like a young girl and muttered a low whisper to herself.

“Good heavens, I knew it was love….”

🦇

He had fallen asleep when it was darkest, yet beams of light were pouring onto his eyelids. His vision was bright even with his eyes closed. The white light shining down from the heavens was as soft as spring leaves, and as moderately warm as the ripe spring sun. Had spring already arrived in the winter that had lulled beasts to sleep? Or was he dreaming?

Tadeo slowly opened his eyes. The first thing to appear in his eyes, which held the ceiling, was the canopy hanging like a tattered rag. He was lying on a bed.

“Where is this…”

Pushing himself up from the deeply sinking bed, he looked around the room with dazed eyes. He could tell without needing to look closely at the old house that only imitated the Baroque style. Yes, this place was….

“Tadeo.”

The voice calling him was familiar to his ear. It was monotonous, without any rise or fall, and did not suit the morning sun. The somewhat cool, low tone resembled the breath that bloomed from a deep sigh. At that voice, Tadeo’s heart trembled. As if bewitched, he lowered his feet to the floor below the bed, and the cold floor touched him, making his whole body stand on end with a shiver.

“Come here, Tadeo.”

The voice coming from outside the firmly shut door was definitely ‘his’. Tadeo slowly took a step. The stark white wallpaper reflected the light, making his eyes ache. Blinking his narrowed eyes, he grabbed the old brass handle.

“Bell…?”

And he almost cried.

“Bell, how did you…”

The peeling furniture, the worn-out leather sofa, the musty old curtains faded from long exposure to light. However, he, standing with the sunlight coming through the window, was more beautiful than anyone in the world. Due to his one-of-a-kind existence, this insignificant space, which was all show and no substance, instantly collapsed and was newly erected. Filled with a splendor that was no less than Versailles.

A small house on the Champs-Élysées in Paris. Yes, this place was where our memories were buried.

“I’ve been waiting for only you to come.”

Bell’s eyes, resembling the dawn sky, sparkled from multiple facets like a cut mineral. When he held out his hand, the wide cuff of his shirt billowed and drooped.

“Right here, all this time.”

Tadeo reached out his hand and approached. The light crumbled between their two fingertips that had yet to touch. At last, their hands met and overlapped, and Bell gave a satisfied smile. He led him by the hand and sat on the sofa. He sat Tadeo on his thigh, the shape of which was fully revealed by the trousers that came up to his waist. Bell’s two arms that enclosed his waist were firm.

“So, what did you do today. Wasn’t it boring talking with those old-fashioned priest bastards?”

He asked, his words imbued with sunlight. It was the question Bell asked most often when Tadeo was studying theology. It wasn’t such a distant memory. But why had he completely forgotten it? Tadeo couldn’t continue his words due to the emotion that was rising hotly in his throat.

Only then did the fact that all of this was a dream become clearly imprinted. A dream that honors a memory was emphasizing the meaning that it could never be returned to.

“Come closer. I want to smell you.”

Bell said so and pulled his waist in a little closer. Each time, Tadeo stubbornly resisted getting closer. When he did, only his waist would arch concavely. Still, without a care, he buried his face in Tadeo’s chest and the nape of his neck. Then he would inhale as if he would suck in the very flesh.

Bell, was it around this time that I realized your actions were embarrassing? Your hot breath as you buried your nose in the nape of my neck and inhaled deeply made my own cheeks flush.

And Bell, that night, I had my first wet dream.

“I’m feeding you well, why are you so thin.”

“…Bell.”

“I don’t like thin things.”

He said as he caressed every part of his body. He could clearly feel his lips moving against his round shoulder. It was when his height, which hadn’t grown for a long time, suddenly shot up. It was a time when he wouldn’t gain weight no matter how much he ate until food filled his throat.

“Are you afraid I’ll eat you up if you get plump?”

Bell asked, lifting his face that had been buried in the nape of his neck. One corner of his mouth curled up in front of Tadeo’s nose. Seeing those lips that fell in an elegant curve, he remembered the lips that had been blackened as if by soot. Tadeo finally burst into the tears he had been holding back.

“Bell…. Bell, I’m sorry.”

His hands that had been on Bell’s sloped shoulders rushed to cover his own mouth from which sobs were bursting out.

“I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“…”

“But, but, we…. We, Bell…”

The words wouldn’t come out right. The pain welling up from his chest felt just as real as if it were not a dream but reality. He felt even more sorry that the words he was crying out now were just this. He couldn’t understand why he, who had appeared every night in his dreams vomiting blood, was now appearing as a vision of the past. If the purpose was to stir his guilt, should he praise him and say he succeeded?

“Why did you do something you’d be sorry for, you.”

A chillingly subdued voice poured down over his head that he couldn’t lift. The tears that had been bursting out uncontrollably were sucked back in as if by a lie. Tadeo, who had been covering his mouth as if biting his hand, lifted his head.

“Yes, that’s right. You were just a human being, after all.”

His lips were set firm, without even a hint of a sneer. The kind gaze he used to have was also gone now. It would have been better if there was even a mix of resentment, but those eyes, like a deep valley at the bottom of the sea, were so very indifferent. Had you ever looked at me with such eyes? Of course, you hadn’t. Not even once.

“Cunning, and filthy.”

“No, Bell.”

As Tadeo shook his head and stood up, Bell also stood up. His body, with its broad torso despite his long frame, blocked all the sunlight as he stood. The wide shadow created by him overwhelmed and flooded Tadeo’s entire body.

“To not even know the grace of being picked up and raised, you’re worse than a son of a bitch.”

With one step from Bell, Tadeo took two or three steps back. His arrogance of not even tilting his head to face his opponent was present even in his walk. His gentle steps, walking over the shadow, finally cornered Tadeo against the wall. When the heel of his shoe touched the wall, a hand with joints all bent like hooks reached out.

“I want you to be as tormented as I am, Tadeo.”

Ten fingers, each with one joint too many, latched onto his slender throat.

“No. More desperately than me.”

The hand gripping him crushed his Adam’s apple as if to shatter it. As his throat was choked and he couldn’t breathe, his chin, lifted instinctively, trembled violently. The saliva he couldn’t swallow wet the line of Tadeo’s throat, and the bubbling foam of saliva that came out clung to the corners of his mouth. However, the words that flowed out in the moment of being choked were something he could never have imagined.

“I, want, to, kiss, you…”

Even while being painfully crushed, Tadeo curved the corners of his lips and eyes.

“Do it, Bell….”

Am I, who betrayed you, truly in the right? Did I, who twisted your intestines and organs and made you vomit blood, fulfill my duty as a priest? Does that alone wash away my sin of having a wet dream using you as the material? My consciousness, which wavered until the moment I was cornered, ultimately failed to protect either my conviction as a priest or you.

This is my small desire. It was my final impertinence, brought out by the thought that if I would never see you again anyway, this much would be alright.

For some reason, in his blue eyes, a look of bewilderment repeatedly sank and rose. Watching those eyes, Tadeo quietly closed his own.

Bell’s face drew closer. As their two lips touched, strangely, the surging pain transformed into pleasure. The blood that had rushed to his head as if to burst it shot straight towards his navel in an instant. The tongue that pushed its way in tickled him all the way to his uvula. The sensation was strange, and Tadeo knitted his brow.

“Haeup, Bell…!”

The demon’s tongue was long and unsightly, but its coiling strength and the saliva, sweeter than honey, were enough to bewitch a human. As the coiled tongue was pulled out at once, the forgotten pain assaulted him again.

“Tadeo, isn’t it a bit funny to get hard while being choked?”

And at the hot voice that brushed past his ear, his eyes flew open.

“Haah, haah…”

The floor swayed as if he had been riding a rough current. Tadeo lay on the bed, gasping for breath. The first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was the bottom of the top bunk. A damp smell rose from the pillow. The room was filled with the loud sound of snoring, which brought his hazy mind to sharp focus.

He turned only his head to survey the cramped third-class cabin. Fortunately, no one was awake. He let out a sigh of relief, wondering if he had perhaps talked in his sleep. He sat up in bed with the intention of getting some air. At that moment, the floor shook from a sudden strong current, and he flopped back down onto the bed.

He felt something damp against his groin. After realizing it was his underwear, he had to feel every single goosebump that sprouted on his skin.

Did I, just now… have a wet dream?

“Lord…”

Tadeo muttered lowly, burying his face, which had turned beet red, in his palms.

The third-class communal lavatory was shabby beyond compare. In that place, barely lit by a single dim light, Tadeo gritted his teeth and scrubbed his underwear vigorously. It was so humiliating when he took off the underwear, soaked through with a thin, watery fluid.

He turned off the faucet and wrung out the underwear from which water dripped. Ttook, ttook. The mirror, covered in water stains, couldn’t even properly reflect his face. He thought that was a relief. He didn’t have the face to look at his own shameful self.

In the lavatory, which had a bluish tint as if covered in moss, only the sound of dripping water echoed. Ttook, ttook. His steps, about to leave the lavatory, hesitated. The iron pipe under the drain gurgled.

“Ah, I can’t live like this…”

He crumpled the underwear in his hand and pressed his forehead. Was there even a space to dry underwear in the third-class cabin swarming with men? It was as clear as day what kind of ridicule he would face if he put his underwear out to dry in the middle of the night. Tadeo bit his lip and shoved the underwear into the trash can inside the lavatory stall.

🦇

A cool sea breeze blew into his loose white shirt. It was thanks to the temperature, which did not drop below zero even at night as the Nemesis, which had set sail in the harsh cold, drew closer to the Mediterranean Sea. The gloomy night sea looked calm on the surface, but the waves hitting the ship’s side were quite strong. It was because the wind passing through the uneroding silence was rough.

Tadeo stepped on the iron stairs and went up to the first-class deck. Elegant music was flowing from the banquet hall where a party was in full swing. Behind his body moving across the deck, the hem of his white shirt fluttered. The wind, split in two by his body, swept past his sideburns.

The tips of his flushed ears were revealed between his fluttering hair. Although he was sensitive to the cold, the wind, which felt like it was blowing around late autumn, felt rather gentle compared to the frozen foggy wind of London. Tadeo leaned on the railing and gazed at the unseen end of the great sea. The water splashing around the sharp bow of the ship glittered like a school of salmon overturning their white bellies and swimming against the river.

It had been a little less than ten days since he had boarded the ship bound for the Qing dynasty. The era of sailing using the power of the wind had come to an end with the invention of the steam engine. This Nemesis, which cut through the water, was named after the steam-powered warship that had led to victory in the Opium War with Qing.

Tadeo inhaled so deeply that it cleared his nostrils. The salty smell, carrying a warmth, was at the peak of the sea breeze. At the sound of laughter that suddenly burst out, he glanced toward the banquet hall for a moment. The light coming from there shone on the deck and even spread to his face. Below this deck, there would be a great deal of opium, and black slaves would be unable to even stretch their legs properly. His face, turned back to the sea, had darkened a little.

“Would you like a cigar?”

Next to his slender hand gripping the railing, someone offered a thick cigar.

“No. Thank you, but I am fine.”

Tadeo held out his hand and politely refused. The white man, dressed in a tuxedo with a white bow tie, looked very young. He placed the cigar between his index and middle fingers, lit it, and took a deep drag.

“Oh, you speak fluently, don’t you? By any chance, are you Qing?”

The man asked, exhaling acrid smoke. He was asking if he was Chinese.

“French… no, I am from Joseon.”

“Joseon. I’ve never heard of that country before.”

“It’s a small country.”

His brown hair, neatly slicked back with pomade gel, met the chandelier light and its ends were red. He had very sapphire-blue eyes, and Tadeo’s gaze, drawn to them, could not seem to look away. The eye color he had happened upon was subtly reminding him of someone.

“Ah! By any chance, the country whose queen was assassinated by the Japanese a while ago?”

Tadeo’s brow furrowed sharply. His slender fingers gripping the railing also flinched. The man, who was observing every subtle movement in detail, licked his lips with the tip of his tongue.

“…Did such a thing happen.”

“You seem quite unaware of world affairs. Well, it wasn’t widely reported.”

Ten years away from his motherland was a short time if you called it short, and a long time if you called it long. My country, which I never once missed because the memories of oppression and persecution were so strong, my country, which I did not miss even when I was ostracized and insulted for the sole reason of being Asian. However, in that moment, Tadeo felt a sense of sorrow.

“Ah, let me introduce myself first. A pleasure to meet you. I am Mac Kenders, the president of the Daily News newspaper company.”

Kenders switched the cigar to his other hand and offered a handshake.

“Hmm, not the president yet. But I will be soon.”

Tadeo still had his brow furrowed. The way one corner of Kenders’ mouth curled up was certainly attractive, but he did not like the way a journalist, who handles public opinion, spoke so casually of another country’s tragedy.

He stared silently at the offered hand before reluctantly raising his own. At that, Kenders grabbed it firmly and shook it. He did not let go of the captured hand for some time. He kneaded it until Tadeo made a troubled expression. After letting go, he leaned his back against the railing and put the cigar to his lips again.

“But how did a Joseon person end up all the way out here?”

“I am a priest. I am on my way back to my motherland to spread the word of the Lord.”

“Aha, a father. A Christian! That’s great.”

Kenders bit his lower lip and nodded. At the tip of his nose, which had been full of the scent of the sea, only the smell of burning dried tobacco leaves remained. Kenders stared intently at Tadeo, who was standing facing the sea. Tadeo was already about to turn his head to the other side because the stare was burdensome.

“Asians are, how should I put it…. They look mystical. Don’t you think?”

“You are being rude.”

At the sharp retort, Kenders held up both hands and burst out laughing.

“Ahaha, I’m sorry. I meant you look that way, so take it as a compliment.”

“Why should I have to take that as a compliment?”

Tadeo asked with a frown. Then, as if realizing his own question was foolish, he turned his body away. I’m an idiot too. To think I was dealing with such a person. He shook his head from side to side as he took large strides forward. At that, Kenders, who had hurriedly followed, grabbed his hand as if snatching it.

“Hey, Father. On such a fine day, in such a fine place, don’t be so on edge. Especially here, on this Nemesis, which has so clearly awakened us to Britain’s wealth and military strength.”

I like him even less now.

“If you’re a priest, you must have tasted your fair share of good quality wine.”

“…Let go of me.”

“Would you like to drink together?”

‘Hah…!’ 

Exasperated. His red lips, which let out a laugh that wasn’t a laugh, twisted slightly.

“I am sorry. I am a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.”

It was a very stiff refusal.

“Then how about we go inside and drink properly. You wouldn’t have to get dead drunk and stumble around looking for your room.”

Kenders was persistent. He forcibly grabbed Tadeo, who had turned sharply to go down the deck, and spun him around. The hem of his billowing white shirt clung to his spinning body. Kenders, giving a fleeting glance at the clearly revealed waistline, gestured with his chin and grinned.

“Besides, I have a first-class cabin.”

“I’ll pass.”

“So aloof.”

Tadeo tried to pull his captive hand away as he refused, but Kenders did not let go. Even when Tadeo’s long, single-lidded eyes shot up to glare at him, Kenders only smiled slyly.

“Let go of me! I’m going back to my…”

The strength drained from his arm, which had been struggling. His black pupils, embroidered with clusters of brilliant chandelier light, were fixed on the top of the ship’s smokestack. His parting lips could not utter a single word. His face was frozen in an instant, like a doll left unsold in a warehouse.

“What’s wrong? Did you see something?”

Kenders also followed his gaze to where he was looking.

“There’s nothing there, what did you…”

During that moment of inattention, his grip on the hand loosened. Tadeo quickly pulled his hand away and began to walk closer to the smokestack. In the blink of an eye, the figure he had seen was gone. His hurried steps soon turned into a run. Tadeo looked around in all directions.

It was definitely him. He had seen him clearly with his own two eyes.

“Bell.”

The sight of him, standing atop the ship’s second smokestack, looking down at him.

“Bell…”

He called his name faintly through his parting lips. But he could no longer find his figure. Even though his golden hair, fluttering in the salt-laden sea breeze, had surely been brighter than the moon.

“I keep telling you, the ship smells like something is burning!”

Just then, someone shouted loudly from the deck below.

Tadeo, who had been standing looking up at the smokestack, turned his steps. The sound of his dress shoes approaching the white railing was swallowed by the blowing wind. As he stood gripping the railing, which offered a clear view of the lower deck, he saw a man in a dirt-stained shirt and suspenders shouting in agitation.

“Don’t cause a needless commotion and go back down. A crewman will go check soon.”

A crewman in a dark navy-blue uniform said as he approached the man.

“Commotion? Did you just say commotion? Everyone in third class is awake!”

“I get it, so…. Hey, Ben!”

Despite the crewman’s attempt to stop him, the man grew even more irate. His voice rode the wind and rose to the upper deck. When the hand in the white glove gestured, another crewman who had been watching from a distance ran over hurriedly. A timely headwind blew, disheveling Tadeo’s hair and tangling it into a mess. The cuffs of his improperly buttoned shirt flapped about. The sound of their conversation was also swallowed up and could not be heard.

“Hah! A burning smell. I don’t smell anything.”

The forgotten scent of the cigar pricked his nose again. Kenders, who had approached at some point, rested his elbows on the white railing and sneered.

“It’s probably the smell of coal ash coming from their own bodies.”

“We do not know that.”

Tadeo twitched an eyebrow and stood facing Kenders.

“We are up on the deck. What if the fire is at the bottom of the ship?”

“Haha, that’s impossible. Even if there was one, there’s no way we wouldn’t know.”

“Because it’s obvious the black slaves would shout ‘Fire!’ and let us know. Isn’t that right?”

The words he spat out while raising an eyebrow were gentle, but his slightly raised lips were clearly sneering. Kenders, whose expression of intrigued interest had not changed until now, changed his countenance the moment the word ‘black’ was mentioned.

“Look here, Father. I know you’re a humanitarian and all, but…”

“While treating them like baggage that cannot speak, and treating the opium loaded with them as more precious, is there anyone who actually listens to their screams?”

The passage provided by the British Roman Catholic society was on a small passenger ship primarily occupied by aristocratic tourists, businessmen, and laborers. However, the fact that there was opium on the passenger ship was an open secret that one had to keep quiet about. This was because it was not opium being brought in through official trade, but opium hidden and smuggled on a regular passenger ship.

“This is interesting.”

Kenders, rubbing his chin with the hand holding the cigar, let out a series of incredulous laughs.

“But how did you know there was opium on this ship?”

Kenders bit the cigar between his teeth and took a step forward. The heels of his shoes, which had reflexively stepped back, hit a white railing post. Tadeo furtively glanced behind him and swallowed dryly. It was then. A crowd of people poured out from the stairs leading to the third-class cabins.

“Cough, cough…! Smoke, smoke is rising…!”

Their eyes simultaneously turned to the deck below. Among the people coughing while holding onto the floor, there were elderly people and children mixed in. However, the number was far too small for all the third-class passengers to have come up. There was one last person who rushed up, pushing through them. It was the crewman who had gone down to assess the situation.

“Ben, what is it!”

“It’s real…”

The crewman named Ben only moved his lips with a dazed face.

“What?”

“There’s really a fire! The opium warehouse and the blackies are all…!”

Bang. A single gunshot rang out from the bow of the ship. Over the narrow intersection of the two seas entering the Strait of Gibraltar, a scream like the cry of a crow was fired. At the sudden gunshot, people covered their ears and ducked. On the deck below, a crewman raised his hand and pointed toward the bow.

“Get that man!”

Bang. As several crewmen ran, the scrawny man standing on the bow railing pulled the trigger once more. His hollow eye sockets were like caves, and his complexion, so pale it was almost blackish, was like that of a corpse. Standing against the sea breeze, he stared intently at Tadeo with his hairy chest exposed. In his other hand, he held a liquor bottle.

“What, is that bastard looking at me right now?”

Kenders said as he raised his body that had been lowered. Soon, the man at the bow began to shout.

“May flames rise on the path you take!”

The hand clutching the liquor bottle was raised high.

“And may the sea overflow!”

“No…”

Tadeo lamented in a voice as small as an ant’s.

“Soon, hundreds of deaths will cast their shadow.”

“No!”

Kenders grabbed Tadeo as he shouted and lunged forward. The man threw the liquor bottle he was holding onto the floor.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Let go of me!”

“I asked you how you knew there was opium on this ship! You are that crazy Qing bastard, aren’t you!”

Even as Tadeo shook his arm, Kenders only spoke frustrating words. Now the man was taking something out of his bulging pocket. One of the aristocrats who had run out in dresses and tuxedos to watch shouted loudly.

“That’s a firebomb!”

By the time Tadeo, who had been struggling, turned his gaze, it was already too late. The lit match moved away from the man’s hand. The moment until it fell to the floor was captured very slowly in his vision.

“Imperet illi Satanas! (Oh, our Satan!)”

Hwareureuk, the ignited fire spread rapidly along the oil. The man, standing like a demon of fire amidst the flames, aimed the gun at his own temple. Bang, with the third gunshot as his last, he fell over the bow railing. With one person’s scream as a signal, the deck instantly became a scene of chaos.

“Instead of inheriting a newspaper company because you have good parents, how about becoming a novelist while you’re at it?”

Tadeo, having succeeded in shaking off Kenders’ hand, ran headlong to the wheelhouse.

“Send a rescue signal to a nearby ship right now! And launch the lifeboats!”

He shouted at the captain who was out of the wheelhouse. Just then, several crewmen rushed out from behind the captain.

“Captain, the helm isn’t responding!”

“The current has changed!”

“Reefs nearby! Reefs nearby! We can’t change direction!”

The heads of the crewmen, including the captain, turned toward the 9 o’clock direction. Tadeo, running to where they were looking, leaned his body out over the railing. In the deep darkness, a corner of a cliff rock, bathed in moonlight, could be vaguely seen.

Wooooo, an unexpected cry echoed throughout the ship. A wail that seemed to come from the deep sea spread, and the current was being sucked in one direction. The Nemesis, carrying hundreds of passengers, was being helplessly dragged into that vortex.

“Captain! Fortunately, the Indostan has received the rescue signal! It’s nearby!”

“Prepare to board the passengers onto the lifeboats. Women and children first! Quickly!”

The crewmen split up to suppress the fire and guide the passengers, and began to run across the deck. Tadeo, peeling his sideburns that were stuck to his cheek, stared at the rock and then ran down the deck.

“Rose! Rose!”

A woman who had come out onto the deck looked inside the third-class entrance and called the name anxiously.

“Have you seen my child? Excuse me, have you seen my child… please!”

The woman pleaded as she grabbed a few people who were running out late, but they all ignored her touch.

“Please, someone save my child!”

The third-class stairway was hazy with smoke. Tadeo, looking into it, grabbed the crying woman’s shoulder and asked.

“The child, where is she?”

“I-I don’t know! I lost her hand…! But I lost her hand when we were almost here!”

Tadeo’s Adam’s apple bobbed once. He grabbed his sleeve, pulled it up, and covered his mouth. And just like that, he stepped onto the stairs and ran down.

Even with his mouth and nose covered, the smoke that entered was so acrid that he felt his lungs stiffen. The moment he removed his hand to call the child’s name, his throat clogged up. Coughs that burst out as if his chest would explode even brought tears to his eyes. Tadeo covered his mouth and nose again and whipped his head back and forth at the fork in the passage. As he was wondering where to go, he heard a faint coughing sound.

“Cough, cough! Mo, mmy…!”

He ran down the right corridor and turned one more corner. The child was standing in the middle of the corridor, sobbing. Tadeo ran swiftly and scooped the child up. He began to run back the way he came. The red corridor was becoming difficult to see even an inch ahead due to the thickening smoke. He ran while holding his breath as much as possible, and finally reached the entrance where the light from the deck shone in.

“I found Rose! Ma’am! Ma’am?”

His face, which had run up the stairs two or three at a time, was flushed red. The woman who had been desperately looking for her daughter was nowhere to be seen. Tadeo’s lips turned pale blue.

“Do not be alarmed even if the ship hits, and form a line! We will launch the lifeboats as soon as we pass the reef, so women and children can board in order!”

The lower deck was crowded with people from third class. Tadeo hugged the child tightly and walked to the line waiting to board the lifeboats.

“Let’s get on the boat for now. Your mother will be there.”

The child nodded with her face buried in his shoulder. He patted her small back and pushed through the crowd.

“Oh, oh, it’s going to hit!”

As a few people pointed and shouted, most of those on the deck turned their heads in that direction. Soon after, the deck floor shook as if there was an earthquake. The ship had hit a large rock. Ujik, ujik, deudeudeuk, the side of the ship scraping against the rock made a huge noise. The people standing staggered, and Tadeo, who was standing near the railing, was gradually pushed back.

“There’s a child! Here! There’s a child here!”

Tadeo shouted repeatedly. At that, a woman in the crowd reached out her hand.

“Where’s the child’s mother?!”

“I don’t know! She disappeared somewhere!”

“Give her to me!”

“Thank you!”

It was when he was about to hand the child to the woman who had extended her two arms from outside her shawl. Another loud crash, ‘Kwang’, erupted, and people were pushed in a rush. His two legs staggered here and there, but the woman safely received the child. The woman and child disappeared into the crowd, and Tadeo, on the contrary, was continuously pushed back. His whole body was crushed by the people, and half of his body was sticking out over the railing.

“Women and children first! Women and children first!”

“The Indostan will arrive soon! Maintain order!”

The ship, having scraped its stern, picked up speed in the current. Rough waves splashed up to the railing, and the white shirt he was wearing was soaked through. ‘And may the sea overflow.’ In that moment, he remembered the words of the man who had shouted from the bow. Tadeo whipped his head around and looked at the sea.

Opposite the bow, the light of the rescue ship Indostan shimmered on the sea. Voices of cheer erupted, but Tadeo’s expression was only dark.

“Everyone get away from the railing!”

Tadeo screamed like a madman. He even stepped up onto the railing and waved his arms wildly at a crewman. The crewman who spotted this had his eyes wide. Behind Tadeo, a wave the size of a house was rushing in, frothing at the mouth.

Biiii, a ringing sound echoed in his numb ears. He couldn’t hear anything. The deck had once again become a scene of pandemonium, and people began to push and trample each other to get ahead, to survive.

And the wave swallowed the deck.

In the place where the overflowing wave had swept past, only soaked people remained. Tadeo, who had been standing holding onto the railing, was nowhere to be seen.

A hand extended from underwater looked milky white even in the dark blue sea. Fine bubbles clung to his floating black hair. His large shirt, filled with water, billowed like a jellyfish. His body, growing distant from the light reflecting and shaking on the water’s surface, was slowly sinking.

Tadeo looked at his fingertips and slowly blinked. Bubbles flowed out in clusters from between his slightly parted lips.

Just then, a voice that filled the sea rang clearly in his ears.

“Tadeo.”

His black eyes, which were slowly closing, blinked weakly.

“Bell…?”

When his lips moved once, a large bubble popped out.

“Tadeo.”

The abyss, where no light reached, was pitch black. But the voice alone grew closer and clearer. To think that the auditory hallucination one hears when facing death is not the voice of the Lord, but the voice of a demon. Tadeo gave a weary smile.

“My pitiful Tadeo.”

He saw a golden fin swimming from far away. Even in his fading consciousness, he struggled not to close his eyes. It was because the golden fin was getting closer. Around it, a jet-black garment was spread out like ink.

And only then did he realize. It was not a fin. The golden threads, scattering and shimmering in the current, were the hair he had seen for over a decade. Bell’s hair, which he had loved to touch the most because it was so soft.

“Bell…”

Tadeo slowly closed his eyes. From between the fluttering golden hair, eyes that held the dawn sky where the morning star rises were revealed. The long fingers that had choked his neck in the dream wrapped around his slender waist. He embraces the light body, sinking with limp limbs, in his firm arms. Apricot-colored, even lips were placed over Tadeo’s lips.

He was the Bell who had appeared as an incubus.

🦇

The weather, which had seemed to have completely cleared up, was causing trouble again. The sound of thunder that occasionally struck through the melancholy sound of rain had a certain charm. Moonlight slid across the foundation and the main wooden floor, and a man with a large nose was reflected on the paper-covered window with its faint, shimmering patterns. The hip-and-gable roofed house, soaked in rain and sentiment, was endlessly quiet, but the faintly visible shadow seemed busy.

The owner of the shadow was Peter. He was packing his luggage for his departure to France in two days. If it had not been for the chalbak-chalbak sound of straw shoes stepping in the puddles of water.

“Father, please come out quickly! Hurry!”

Peter’s heart sank in an instant. It was because they were rounding up any and all Westerners who had come from Europe due to the persecution incident. Wondering if his hiding place had been discovered, he quickly blew with his mouth and extinguished the slender oil lamp.

Fortunately, it was not what he had feared. However, the servant, who had run so urgently that his leggings, which came up to his knees, were soaked, had a face as if he had seen a goblin.

“Oh, Lord, have mercy…”

When he followed the servant, who had opened an umbrella, to the main gate, Peter’s face became the same as the servant’s.

On that particular day, the moonlight was eerie, and even the clouds with a halo around the moon were sinister. The rain, pouring down as if a hole had opened in the sky, seemed to be flowing with rust-colored water, and in that rain, a man stood. While holding in his arms a boy of shabby build, drenched in blood.

“I am looking for a place to take shelter from the rain.”

From the stranger’s mouth flowed a voice as low as the lingering, subdued thunder of a white heron. Perhaps if he had not opened his mouth, it would have been difficult to even distinguish whether he was living or dead. He was that mystical, as enchanting as a mirage, and as sensual as a heat haze. What more is there to say, when his hair, which the falling night rain could not cover, shone brighter than that voluptuous moonlight.

To Peter, the time it took to guide them to a separate building felt like an eternity. He was walking in front, but for some reason, he was captivated by the illusion that he was following that man. The steps the man took were so quiet it was suffocating. Because of that, he sometimes had to stop walking and shake his head, which was confused about whether it was a dream or reality.

Peter watched what the man was doing through the crack of the open door, but he could not take a single step inside. No, he did not even dare to think of setting foot inside.

Is he even alive? The child lying unconscious could have been believed to be a corpse found on the street. His whole body was bluish, and his faintly visible fingertips and toes were all crushed and burst.