The Unbelievers Chapter 59

The runaway attempt unfolded even more smoothly than Eunseong had planned. Each day on his way to school, he had gradually packed items and hidden them beneath a secluded wall; he transferred these belongings to his bag and left the school immediately. There were eyes monitoring him at school as well.

Since carrying a school uniform would be nothing but a burden, he changed clothes in a subway restroom and threw the uniform into a trash can. The authorities would likely track him this far using CCTV, and by this evening at the latest, Yoo Siun or Manager Nam would see him entering that restroom.

After changing, Eunseong hid his school bag—which looked suspicious because it was bursting with contents—inside a restroom stall where cleaning supplies were kept. He planned to return for it in a few days. If it was gone by then, he could check the lost and found. Even if it vanished entirely, there was nothing he could do. If the bag were to provide a clue for tracking him, it was better off gone.

He took only his money and immediately necessary items, packing them lightly into a single crossbody bag. Pulling his hat down low, he waited for a moment when a large crowd of people poured out of a train before making his move.

Following the bustling noise of the surging crowd, he stepped out of the restroom and blended into the throng. There was no way anyone was chasing him yet, but his heart throbbed with anxiety as if he were committing a crime.

As he walked among the people, his anxiety gradually faded. His hunched back, which had been drawn tight, slowly straightened. Eunseong walked without being conscious of the CCTVs. He felt keenly that he was truly alone now, having become just another anonymous face in the crowd.

Fearing that Manager Nam might suddenly ask to see his phone, he had used the phone he got from his friend to look for jobs via a recruitment app before even leaving the house. It was a place where the floating population was so high in the bustling district that one would constantly brush against others. He had found several places, but he secured a job at the very first shop he entered.

To Eunseong, who was looking for a gosiwon, the cafe owner who interviewed him recommended a motel in the building next door. It was nearly peak season, and it seemed one of the staff members had suddenly quit.

The sleeping arrangements and the job he had been secretly worried about were resolved all at once. The motel building had recently completed renovations, so it was pleasant and clean, and the owner took a liking to Eunseong, who said he had come up to Seoul to earn money for university tuition. Furthermore, since he would be an adult in just a month, his young age was not a major issue.

“Most of the guys who make promises never show up, so it’s actually easier for my peace of mind if someone lives and works here. Why do kids these days ghost people after making an appointment? If they’re going to do that, they shouldn’t make the promise in the first place. They just ignore you. They believe that by ignoring it, the problem is solved.”

The owner grumbled to Eunseong about “kids these days.” He said that now, he felt a sense of goodwill toward a part-timer just for appearing on time. Seeing Eunseong traveling around in person to find work seemed to have naturally sparked a sense of pride in the man.

“Um, Boss, I’m sorry, but would it be alright if I received my wages in cash?”

“In cash, of course. Ah, you mean you want it given directly rather than transferred to an account?”

“Yes, there are some circumstances at home…”

“Right, I’ll do that for you.”

Eunseong didn’t offer a detailed explanation, but the owner readily agreed as if he understood all of Eunseong’s unspoken troubles.

“Just because you gave birth doesn’t make you a parent. Tsk, tsk.”

He added those words, though Eunseong didn’t know what kind of scenario the man was imagining.

Because of the snow, the ritual began late. The chairman of the Seongha Group and the apostles of the elders’ council bowed toward the altar. Beside them, the executors stood in formation, their hoods pulled down to their eyebrows. It was unclear whether he had been proselytized or if his purpose was to proselytize those who brought piles of money, but even Master Manpo appeared and took a seat on the day of the Seongha Group’s ceremony.

With hands folded politely in front and standing in silence, Yoo Siun’s eyes occasionally met Master Manpo’s in the empty air. Seeing the way the man subtly caught his gaze, it seemed Master Manpo possessed some information that could be turned into money.

The layers of air had grown heavy with the snowfall, making the smell of incense particularly pungent today. Major shareholders of the Seongha Group, outside directors, presidents of subsidiaries, university presidents, the chairman of the Korea Communications Commission, and newspaper chairmen, as well as the Prosecutor General and the Senior Superintendent General, appeared to bow and pay their respects as believers of the cult.

Manager Nam, who had stepped away for a moment to take a call, had silently approached Yoo Siun’s side before anyone noticed. Sensing a faint presence, Yoo Siun glanced back and raised an eyebrow at Manager Nam’s expression, as the latter stared seriously at him with a hardened gaze.

When Siun asked silently what was wrong, Manager Nam lowered his eyes to the floor as if avoiding his gaze. It meant a major incident had occurred—something that made him feel apologetic.

Yoo Siun turned his head back to the front. No small talk of any kind was permitted during the ritual.

The ceremony proceeded according to rank. The eldest uncle, who was Seo Jeonggi’s father and the eldest grandson, had passed away long ago, and the second son, Chairman Yoo, was performing the duties of the eldest son. Chairman Yoo and his son offered their respects first, followed by the third and fourth sons in order, and finally, Yoo Siun stepped forward to offer his respects. Today was a day without a sacrificial ritual. The tedious ceremony continued.

The apostle chanted the prayer in a solemn voice while lighting a flame. It was unclear what trickery was used, but the shape of the flame flickered like a snake, soaring into the sky until it reached the rafters; the eyes of those seeing it for the first time widened in surprise as small gasps of admiration broke out. Some knelt on the floor with a loud Thump. They worshipped the god of the Seongha Group together.

Once he entered the safe accessible only to the apostles, he would be able to find out what kind of trickery that was.

The impulse to dig into it quickly, the hasty desire to hurry up and wipe these people out, surged up repeatedly.

《Behold, the God who came through the Side Path rides a pale horse and walks that path; their end shall be amidst the fire of destruction. When the end of the world is near, a rider on a pale horse shall appear, roaming over the whole earth in darkness and striking humanity with death; his name is Death, and those who follow him shall be called Hell. The whole world shall tremble and fear before his power.

After paving the way of chaos and destruction, the God who came through the Side Path shall appear like light from the darkness through a Great Rift; he is the savior, the one to be worshipped, with lips sweet as honey and eyes beautiful as lilies; a swarm of snakes resides in the abyss and will be seen only by those whose spirit eyes are open; the keys to the whole world shall be grasped in his hands. Stamp the mark of the rider on your foreheads and hands. All authority and glory are but for a moment. Behold, the God who came through the Side Path rides a pale horse and walks that path; their end is amidst the fire of destruction, and our righteousness alone shall overflow in the world.》

When the ritual ended, the executors, who looked like messengers of hell, vanished like a swarm of black clouds without even making the sound of a footstep.

The crowd gathered here were cult followers waiting for the Asura to be born from the “Great Rift.”

In two thousand years, only two records of the existence of a “Great Rift” remained. Since Eunseong was discovered after the record from the early 19th century, it had been nearly two hundred and twenty years.

They believed that a child born after the “Great Rift” copulated with one whose spirit eyes were open would rule and govern this world, and they scoured the entire earth to find a “Great Rift.”

As the ceremony ended, the surroundings began to murmur quietly. The cult believers exchanged ordinary greetings and shared news of their lives.

The main hall soon became noisy.

Yoo Siun, who had been sitting on his knees after bowing, stood up. He and Manager Nam moved toward the exit together, exchanging conversation in hushed tones.

“What is the matter?”

“… It is said that Student Eunseong has disappeared.”

“… .”

After a brief hesitation, Manager Nam reported without delay, feeling that since the deed was done, he might as well take the blow first. He could not bring himself to lift his head and waited for his punishment. When Yoo Siun didn’t respond, he finally lifted his gaze.

Yoo Siun’s expression was ambiguous. He wasn’t surprised, nor was he disappointed, nor was he angry at the employees whose duty it was to protect Eunseong. He looked like someone who had known this would happen. It was merely the sentiment that a vague, ominous worry had finally become a reality.

“Because the snow was so heavy and the roads were blocked, they said they dropped him off nearby instead of handing him over to the guard planted at the school.”

“… .”

“It seems he said he couldn’t be late because he was in charge of something at school, so he would get out first. Since it was a distance that didn’t take long to walk, the employee let him go.”

“… .”

“Could it be a kidnapping? We confirmed him entering the subway station, but we haven’t been able to track him since.”

Manager Nam asked, lowering his volume as much as possible and keenly observing his surroundings. It was a whisper that was almost just the movement of lips. They were surrounded by enemies.

Yoo Siun did not answer. He was staring indifferently at somewhere in the air with a face lost in thought.

“CEO.”

Feeling frustrated by Yoo Siun’s lack of response, Manager Nam called out as if urging him to say something. When Yoo Siun finally focused on him, Manager Nam continued quietly.

“If it is a kidnapping… wouldn’t the person be among this group?”

“No. It won’t be that.”

“Then what?”

“Let’s talk later.”

Yoo Siun ended the conversation hastily because someone was approaching them. An elder came forward and offered his hand to Yoo Siun.

Only Manager Nam knew that Yoo Siun deliberately wore thick gold rings and had tattoos to flaunt a lowliness that suggested he was nothing more than a henchman who disposed of trash. He lowered his posture as if he had no presence here and camouflaged his true intentions.