Chapter Text
Jong-woo lay sprawled on the floor.
The TV was still broadcasting a live program urging citizens to donate gold to save the country. He just wanted to quickly find the remote and turn it off, since every channel was broadcasting the exact same thing anyway.
"I'm still watching that."
Turns out, the remote was with his mother. Jong-woo frowned, because she wasn't watching it at all; listening would be more accurate. She was completely engrossed in making kimbap. His mother said that if they turned the TV off, there wouldn't be a single sound left in the house. That was also the reason Jong-woo spent the whole day lying listlessly on the floor, cause going outside wouldn't be any different anyway.
The country was reeling from the IMF financial crisis. Yet, despite the pervasive atmosphere calling for a boycott of foreign cultural products, people still flocked to the theaters to watch Titanic, and the idol fandom culture showed no signs of faltering. Jin-woo, his older brother by three years, spent all day cooped up in an internet cafe playing a video game imported from America. To top it all off, news about Chairman Chung Ju-yung crossing the 38th parallel with a herd of cattle was plastered all over the front pages.
Jong-woo sluggishly picked himself up and tore off the calendar page on the wall. It was only the first half of 1998. The year wasn't even over yet, so how could everything be this loud and chaotic?
The constant, repetitive pleas to donate gold felt like they were urging him on, but there was nothing he could do. Where would a broke senior college student like him even get a piece of gold? Even his mother didn't have any, yet she remained totally unfazed, listening to those pleas every single day while doing absolutely nothing. Mom really is something else, Jong-woo marveled inwardly. The kimbap she made was piled up in the fridge simply because they had nothing else to eat.
In these tough times, when spending money on a luxurious movie was deemed ridiculous, Jong-woo was still among the few who secretly sneaked into the theater to watch Titanic. At the ending, tears welled up in his eyes. Feeling his masculine pride slightly bruised, he had no choice but to walk out of the theater with his head hung low. In his free time, while waiting for that person to arrive at their meeting spot, Jong-woo would drop by the internet cafe Jin-woo frequented to try playing StarCraft. Controlling those bugs and making them fly over to destroy other people's bases was actually quite fun. It was a pity he had been so busy lately; on the rare days he had some free time, all he wanted to do was lay around all day.
"Evangelist Yoon, in noisy and chaotic times like these, cunning people looking to exploit the weak hearts of others are everywhere. That is why we must put in even more effort. So... you will be patient for just a little while longer, right...?"
The moment a fleeting thought of giving up crossed his mind, that deep, unwavering, and subtly threatening voice rang in his ear again. Accompanying it was a large, slender hand gently patting and squeezing his shoulder. Ever since he started serving a man who bore the title of a Pastor, for the sake of convenience and to blindside the public, Jong-woo began being called an "evangelist." In the eyes of those within Seo Moon-jo’s network, he was "Evangelist Yoon."
The man's expression always feigned a sorrowful, pitiful look, as if terrified that Jong-woo would hand in his resignation and leave immediately, even though Jong-woo had never once shown such an intention.
Rumor had it that anyone who worked under him previously only lasted a short while before disappearing. A nun had secretly whispered this rumor into his ear when it was just the two of them: "It's a good thing you only handle the administrative work in the office. Our Pastor, once he sets his sights on a target, is utterly ruthless and has no concept of mercy. So many people have lost their lives... ah, I mean, quit their jobs."
The nun said this in an affected tone, taking a delicate sip of her tea. Jong-woo wondered if squeezing the life out of one's employees without paying them a fair wage ever made the man's conscience twinge. But given Jong-woo's current predicament, he was in no position to openly demand money, so he just nodded and let it slide.
Once he sets his sights on a target, there is no concept of mercy.
Jong-woo understood this better than anyone. He had verified it himself and swallowed enough bitter pills because of it. Whenever Moon-jo didn't get what he wanted, or if the results didn't go exactly as planned, he would corner and push everything to the absolute extreme just to grasp the closest possible outcome. More than a few times, Jong-woo had nearly lost his life in the field entirely due to that stubbornness.
The fanatical cultists screamed, their bloodshot eyes bulging with madness, accusing him of daring to insult their Leader, claiming that an evil heretic like him was sowing seeds of doubt within their ranks. Just recalling that moment still made Jong-woo shudder with nausea. There was a split second when he thought: "I’m going to die at the hands of these lunatics!" And then Pastor Seo appeared and kicked them away—flying away, literally. Leaving Jong-woo, who was battered and bruised like a torn rag, completely dumbfounded. Moon-jo beamed radiantly, showing off his perfectly straight, pearly-white teeth: "See? You might have gotten a few scratches, but aren't you still safe and sound in one piece? Jagiya."
In that exact moment, Jong-woo genuinely wanted to beat this Pastor to a pulp. A little disrespect wouldn't kill him instantly, would it? That option actually sounded quite reasonable. Even now, from time to time, he still harbored those rebellious thoughts in his head.
Our heartless, soulless Pastor. Seo Moon-jo.
In the name of serving God, acting as His proxy to spread His will on earth, guiding lost sheep back to His embrace, and preaching the Gospel with a righteous tone. That was how Jong-woo wanted to describe him. But when it was just the two of them, he couldn't deceive himself with such empty platitudes. Even though someone like Jong-woo, who was constantly criticized for speaking bluntly, probably had no right to nitpick others about this, the contrast between how the man spoke in front of the congregation versus when no one was around was far too stark. So stark that even though he had long gotten used to it, he still found himself startled from time to time.
During a staff dinner, Moon-jo once mentioned that he had been a devout believer since the womb, so he had pretty much been predestined for this path from a very young age. Jong-woo thought that made sense, yet sometimes he still couldn't wrap his head around it. No matter how obvious the path was, had he never, not even once, wanted to stray in another direction?
Of course, trivial private matters or deep, hidden inner thoughts were never brought up by him at the drinking table. Looking at it from that perspective, if this were a corporate company, he would definitely be considered a pretty decent boss. Even when slightly buzzed, he maintained an astonishing level of composure. Jong-woo had once wondered if that was simply part of the training to become a Pastor.
It was only much later, after interacting with other Pastors and realizing they were nothing like him, that he finally understood the real issue. Turns out, it had nothing to do with his title or any spiritual cultivation process. It was simply Seo Moon-jo's inherent nature.
Word had it that after his ordination, his first assignment was as an educational Pastor at a church in Seoul. The sudden appearance of a young, tall, and approachable Pastor caused the youth group's attendance rate to skyrocket at the time. That was what Jong-woo heard while drinking at a cheap barbecue joint with Pastor Kim, who used to be an Associate Pastor back then.
At first, he listened attentively to the stories about Moon-jo told through someone else's perspective, but it didn't take long for him to lose interest in the Pastors' topics of conversation. But when the atmosphere started to die down, it was him who took the initiative to liven up the conversation. Thanks to that, Jong-woo also learned something he had never considered before.
Turns out, Pastors were constantly nagging to get married. Moon-jo just smiled gently with a face that seemed completely unbothered, but Pastor Kim refused to let it go. He warned that dodging and delaying the issue like that wouldn't make the pressure go away. So there's that kind of thing too. Not being someone from the church circles, how was I supposed to know?
Jong-woo scratched his cheek and awkwardly lowered his head, eating the grilled meat that Moon-jo had just placed into his bowl.
He worked as an educational Pastor in Seoul for almost two years before being transferred all the way down to Busan. And it was exactly then that Moon-jo and Jong-woo met for the first time. That was in 1996. Counting up to now, it had been a fated connection lasting a full two years.
"I guess an ill-fated connection granted by God still counts as a connection."
The Deaconess, who had worked with Pastor Seo for many years, let out a gentle laugh upon hearing that. The first time Jong-woo timidly stepped into the office following Moon-jo's directions, she had welcomed him with that exact same smile.
At that time, the sign in front of the office still clearly displayed the words "Eradication of Heresy." Currently, it had been taken down following Jong-woo's fierce protests and replaced with a different sign. He had tried to explain that displaying such an overly extreme attitude would only make outsiders more suspicious.
"Who picked that nameplate?"
"It's the Pastor's preference."
"I see..." Jong-woo nodded slowly. "I figured as much."
Eradication of Heresy. How many more organizations masquerading as religions would appear in this world, exploiting fragile souls to extort, trample, and profit off others? And was this so-called "eradication" even remotely feasible?
Moon-jo surely knew the answer. Yet he still chose to step onto that path.
Because of that, Jong-woo was always curious about the kind of person he was in the years before they met. What drove him to pursue such a seemingly impossible goal? Even now, when they were on the same side and working closely together, he still hadn't found the answer. Could this be the twisted facet hidden deep within an upright Pastor—someone who grew up in faith and had never once strayed from his predetermined path?
The desire for a completely pure world. Even knowing full well that the world couldn't consist solely of good things, if that was truly what Moon-jo desired, the thought made him seem all the more bizarre, even terrifying.
Jong-woo still wondered about it from time to time. Perhaps because, deep down, he was the type of person who believed that distortion and flaws were inseparable parts of this world. But truthfully, there was no need to dig that deep. In less than a year of working together, he already knew perfectly well that Seo Moon-jo was a total weirdo.
For instance, when Jong-woo embarrassingly confessed that he didn't have a single piece of gold jewelry to donate to the gold-collection campaign. Hearing that, Moon-jo casually mentioned that he had handed in a bracelet left behind by his mother.
The whole room immediately went into a frenzy. "Aren't you going to get it back right away?"
Faced with that panicked question, Moon-jo just calmly replied that the bracelet had been repaired so many times that quite a few of its parts were no longer real gold anyway, so there was no need to worry.
The moment his eyes met the Deaconess's, who was organizing files nearby, Jong-woo immediately used his facial expression to ask: What the hell is wrong with him?
The Deaconess quietly looked back at him as if to say that, since it was Moon-jo, it made perfect sense. He also looked incredibly proud of it, so in the end, the two of them said nothing more. Donating a family heirloom to save the country, only for it to turn out to contain fake gold. It was unclear whether this was a touching tale of patriotism or a headache-inducing story of filial piety.
When Jong-woo sneaked off to watch Titanic, Moon-jo had parked himself right in the seat next to him to watch it too. Walking out of the theater alongside Jong-woo—who was wiping tears off his face with his sleeve. Moon-jo sincerely commented that it was indeed a heartbreaking story. Then he started discussing those who only fixated on the luxury of the setting without realizing the core value regarding human lives.
"I'm still sad over here, you know," Jong-woo reminded him with a slurred, whining voice.
It was a rare occasion to go see a movie and get moved to tears, but it seemed the reactions of the surrounding audience had overly irritated a certain Pastor. He rambled non-stop the entire way back, not giving a single damn about the feelings of the person next to him, completely washing away whatever lingering trace of emotion was left in Jong-woo's heart.
"Alright, alright. I know. But your eyes are getting a bit swollen."
Saying that, he handed him a wet tissue, telling him to put it over his eyes for a few minutes. Jong-woo had thought the man hadn't noticed him crying. But looking at that smile, it was clearly on purpose; he knew, yet pretended not to know.
So damn annoying.
Becoming a regular at Music Land was simply because Jong-woo was sick and tired of listening to the same few songs on repeat during their hours-long drives. Whenever he dropped by, he would conveniently pick up a few extra cassette tapes for Moon-jo—who listened to almost nothing but hymns—just so the man could occasionally switch things up.
Those tapes were always lying around in the car, but Jong-woo had no idea if the man actually listened to them or not.
Even so, every time he got into Moon-jo’s car, he would dig out the exact tape that suited his own taste and pop it in. And then, like clockwork once a week, he would witness the Pastor humming along to those very songs.
It wasn't that Moon-jo didn't watch TV. It was just that he was so busy that unless someone shoved it directly into his brain, it would take him a long time before he started bringing up outdated trends. Watching him repeat a line from a movie that aired last year and then smile with sheer satisfaction, Jong-woo unconsciously brought a hand up to cover his face, even though there was no one else in the car but the two of them.
Our eccentric and rather merciless Pastor.
An ill-fated connection? At least, Jong-woo didn't think so.
Setting aside the backbreaking workdays and the times he was tormented half to death, he had never considered the relationship between them to be an ill-fated one. At most, it was just a chance encounter that ended up lasting much longer than expected. After all, the one who made the choice had always been him.
The problem lay in one simple fact: the person Jong-woo had recklessly thrown caution to the wind to follow happened to be a Pastor who specialized in hunting down cults.
And there is one thing that has been left unsaid until now. Jong-woo was gay.
Gay. Someone who likes people of the same sex.
Honestly speaking, Jong-woo had never had to struggle too long with his own sexual orientation, but it wasn't exactly a truth he realized right away without experiencing the so-called "facing the opposite sex."
Back in his sophomore year, Jong-woo had a brief fling with a freshman junior. The two met because they were in the same volunteering club. As for why he chose to join that club, the reason was simple: it didn't require a tedious application process like the academic clubs, and he could rack up a lot of extracurricular points. That junior's name was Ji-eun. As for who asked who out first, Jong-woo had completely forgotten, even though it had only been two years ago.
Tch, it's probably because I've gotten beaten up by cultists so much that I'm losing my memory.
The reason Jong-woo chose Ji-eun as a dating prospect was also very simple. She had a pretty face and a tall figure. During the two months they were dating, he had to face a lot of gossip, including how mismatched they looked walking together since they were both the exact same height.
Of course, Jong-woo wasn't foolish enough to listen to those words and break up with his pretty, tall girlfriend. It was simply that both of them felt their dynamic was more like genuine friends rather than a romance. There was no "I will protect and shelter you" feeling; it was just two people with similar hobbies sharing their mundane college lives. Ji-eun must have been quite disappointed, but what could be done? Jong-woo's nature was inherently childish like that.
After that, he did try looking for another girlfriend, but no one caught his eye. Clearly, Ji-eun had been the one who best fit that standard.
Pretty and tall.
Maybe it doesn't have to be a girl. Jong-woo reasoned simply.
In the year he turned 22, he decided to voice his thoughts out loud. Jong-woo told himself that he was an adult now, after all. Since it was his own life, surely everyone would understand and accept it. He placed his trust in his family, the people who had been by his side his entire life. He thought they would understand, encourage him, and help him figure out how to live as his true self.
And so, on an ordinary evening just like any other. His father, who spent all day out on the streets trying to gather news about the economic situation, had returned. Right in the middle of a family dinner so peaceful it wasn't even worth mentioning, Jong-woo dropped a bomb onto the dining table.
"I have something to say."
"Yeah, go ahead."
"I don't think I like women. I like men."
The clinking of chopsticks and spoons against bowls, the crunching sounds of chewing at the table—all suddenly went dead silent.
"What did you say?"
It was obvious that no one had misheard. Yet, the way their faces simultaneously snapped to stare at him with wide, bulging eyes—as if waiting for him to correct himself and say it was just a joke—made Jong-woo feel an immense, crushing pressure.
But he just didn't like hiding things, which was why he brought it up.
As a result, he got chewed out completely.
The absurd part was that, even after getting scolded, he still didn't understand why he was being yelled at.
Hearing screams like, "What kind of decency is there for a man to like a man?", Jong-woo was initially just bewildered, wondering if it was really something worth getting that angry about. But then the atmosphere in the house remained gloomy for days on end. By then, even he started to waver.
Did I do something wrong? Was I born abnormal?
Jong-woo wasn't completely tactless. Thinking about it carefully, the problem probably lay in the fact that he had taken the matter far too lightly. While everyone else considered it an earth-shattering issue, he thought of it simply as a slightly unconventional personal preference. Like how some people prefer jjajangmyeon while others prefer jjamppong. Unfortunately, no one else in the house thought as simply as he did.
Jong-woo didn't sob out loud. But his pillowcase was soaked every day.
During the period of maintaining a double life—being gloomy and cowering at home, but living as if nothing happened at the university—Jong-woo was unexpectedly dragged to church by his mother.
Perhaps afraid that her son would keep going out, meeting this guy and that guy, and bringing total shame to the family, one weekend morning, she mercilessly smacked his back to wake him up from a hangover. Without a single word of explanation, she dragged her still-half-asleep son into the car.
The destination was the largest church in Busan.
"What church is this? Why are we suddenly going to church?"
When Jong-woo, a child who had grown up freely in a family that respected religious freedom, looked over in bewilderment, the face he loved most in the world uttered words that were incredibly cold and nonchalant. A resolute nonchalance stemming entirely from faith.
"They said you are possessed by Satan. Pray for God's forgiveness and everything will be alright."
That was the sharpest blade.
The feelings that Jong-woo had never once dared to confess to his family were, in that split second, equated with Satan. That wound was indeed not small, but he didn't let himself sink too deeply into it either.
Pretty fatal, isn’t it? Just saying I like men and I'm already labeled as Satan... Even though he hadn't even met a prospective partner yet, he felt like he could easily write a Romeo and Juliet play right then and there. Then again, that was just the escapist thought of an immature mind.
Even so, to put his family at ease, he regularly attended services and had to endure quite a few harsh reprimands from the Pastor. For Jong-woo, that was no different from a period of testing his patience. He waited time and time again, convinced that if he just gritted his teeth and went to church for a year, his family would let their guard down. While others happily enjoyed their weekends, Jong-woo had to make up excuses about studying to sneak out of the house every single day. If he had assignments, he used assignments as an excuse; if exams were approaching, he used studying as an excuse, just to go to the university library and sleep face-down on the desk. He used to think he would die of exhaustion just trying to reassure his family, but regardless, he gradually got used to church life.
But he still didn't like it. Leaving aside the matter of getting along with everyone, the very reason he came here in the first place went completely against his own will.
Living a life like that, bringing his unconventional prayers to a God who didn't bother listening, and then Seo Moon-jo appeared.
People introduced him as the new Pastor assigned to the church two weeks ago—right around the time Jong-woo had used exam prep as an excuse to skip. He could only stare blankly, his mouth hanging open. The man's face was pale and radiant, as if a light had been switched on. Handsome enough to be the male lead stepping right out of a TV drama, yet he was a Pastor.
It seemed like this world was operating the wrong way. But then again, with those looks, preaching to others probably wouldn't be difficult at all. While he was lost in a mess of random thoughts, Moon-jo took the initiative to reach out his hand. Seeing that, Jong-woo hurriedly shook it along with a formal greeting.
"Hello, it's an honor to meet you for the first time, Father."
"It's a pleasure to meet you again."
Moon-jo said. And then, the face opposite him passed by like a slow-motion film. Slowly. Like a cassette tape running sluggishly.
The progression didn't follow the trope of getting struck by love at first sight and then diligently attending church every day after that. To Jong-woo, the church was still an oppressive space, and he had long grown sick of the head Pastor's monotonous voice droning on about doctrines. He would just come to chat with some people from the youth group and then head home. Because it was a large church, there were many devout sheep, but there were also quite a few who came simply because they heard it was an easy place to make friends. Jong-woo was so close to that particular crowd that his pager was constantly beeping.
Later on, every time Pastor Seo appeared, Jong-woo's eyes would be glued to him, but then he would just click his tongue: "Well, he's a church person after all..." and let it go.
Jong-woo wished that the youth group's drinking party at the beer pub had never happened.
Generally speaking, alcohol is always the root of all problems. And that liquor wasn't exactly light, either. After a while of cheering, chugging, and noisy partying, seeing Pastor Seo just sitting alone and smiling quietly to himself, Jong-woo suddenly felt a surge of meddlesomeness. He moved seats to strike up a conversation.
"Are you not used to this kind of atmosphere, Pastor? Sometimes it gets like this when there are too many people. But everyone here is nice. These snacks are really good, do you want some more?"
Since he was still feeling awkward, Jong-woo just babbled whatever came to mind, but Moon-jo simply listened in silence before answering unhurriedly.
"Jong-woo seems to be a good drinker. Thank you for caring about me. But aren't you drunk yet? Jagiya, you've drunk a bit too much." He said, his eyebrows furrowed in a look full of concern.
Jong-woo thought he must really be drunk. What jegi, what kicking a shuttlecock? What was Pastor Seo saying? It made him mishear it as jagiya.
His heart was pounding. This was driving him crazy. What the hell was this?
It was true that misplaced gentleness could be the death of people. Even though he didn't loudly mingle with the crowd, he possessed the kindness of someone who knew how to quietly observe and worry about others. Perhaps that was the inherent gentleness and goodness of a clergyman. No matter what anyone said, the problem was that Jong-woo's heart had fluttered just from that single sentence of Moon-jo's.
The devil Satan must still be residing within me, no matter how many times I cleanse myself and pray. I completely fail to understand the Holy Father's will. Amen.
Jong-woo tossed and turned. Since he already caught his eye, could he just close his eyes, act recklessly, and contact him? If only he had asked for his pager number back then. Or at least his landline. He lived alone, right? All he knew were a few snippets of stories he happened to hear while sitting at the same table, or from occasionally asking around. But he hadn't reached the point of snooping into every little detail of the man's private life, so his information was extremely limited.
Besides, what excuse would a youth group member have to contact him? He didn't know because he didn't attend services diligently. He wasn't enthusiastic about church affairs or anything. What was so special about a guy who only showed his face once in a blue moon and pretended to pray just for show, that it would leave an impression on him?
If this were a normal situation, Jong-woo wouldn't have given it a second thought; he was more than capable of throwing away his dignity to ask for a number and aggressively buddy up. But this was his crush... While he was still wracking his brain alone, an opportunity arrived at the most unexpected moment. Moon-jo took the initiative to approach him and called Jong-woo out privately.
"In the work I am doing, I absolutely need someone like Jong-woo."
He didn't stand in a place with transparent glass walls where anyone looking from the outside could see, but secretly led him into the youth group's private space before saying that. In the middle of a deserted, quiet place, completely isolated from the outside, with only the two of them left, Jong-woo suddenly felt unusually tense.
While hearing that sentence, Jong-woo was still tormenting himself—Was I really the type to wear my heart on my sleeve, so easily seen through?—so much so that he couldn't immediately digest its meaning, forcing him to ask back: "You need what exactly?"
That firm hand with its rough knuckles enveloped and lifted Jong-woo's significantly smaller right hand. It looked exactly as if the two of them were praying together.
Could it be that because I complained about not understanding His will last time, God is now giving me the answer?
"I need someone who is skeptical, who likes to dig deep into the words laid bare before their eyes, and who has a good ability to understand, like Jong-woo. It absolutely has to be you. I have been observing for a while, and it seems there is no talent quite like Jong-woo."
Jong-woo felt like his head was in the clouds. I'm skeptical? Do I have a good ability to understand?
Jong-woo's track record at the church consisted of the following: Lazily dragging his corpse over, letting his mind wander in the clouds and asking a bunch of nonsense questions; showing his face once in a blue moon only to hear people exclaim every single time, "Long time no see!". This was truly a groundless, absurd fairytale.
Even so, Moon-jo steadfastly repeated it. He forcefully affirmed: I NEED YOU! Even in his wildest dreams, Jong-woo could never have guessed that those words actually meant: I am looking for a slave.
He might as well have just posted a job listing in the newspaper titled Slave Wanted and be done with it. Moon-jo began to explain the reason he was here.
"Actually, I came all the way here thanks to Pastor Choi's recommendation. I've decided to track down and deal with those who exploit the name of the Lord, proclaim themselves as higher beings, and tarnish religion. If Jong-woo joins me, I think everything will go smoothly."
I knew it. God is giving me an answer, my ass. God always just stands by and watches in silence anyway.
Although he couldn't just nod and agree immediately, since the other person—the very guy he had almost secretly fostered feelings for—had taken the initiative to ask, it was hard to refuse. Besides, what the hell was he suddenly being asked to do? Moon-jo told him to come find him for the details once he made up his mind, then pulled out a business card and handed it to him.
Looking this young, yet he even has his own office?
"Ah, there was another Pastor who did this job before, and he left it to me." As if reading the question on Jong-woo's face while he scrutinized the address on the card, Moon-jo quickly clarified.
Returning home, after an hour of brainstorming, Jong-woo came up with a plan. He probably just needed to attend church diligently for a few days and then lie to his mother. Tell her that his 'homosexuality disease' seemed to be completely cured. That God had bestowed His grace upon him. Therefore, he was planning to pursue religious work properly—what did she think about that?
Since his mother had personally dragged him to church, it would be hard for her to object to this. Furthermore, he deliberately attended even the weekday services. Even though he was tired to death, he just needed to show up regularly for now. Making a show of his diligent attendance was crucial, and he needed to create evidence, too. Listening to sermons where the Pastor's voice droned on monotonously like a university professor almost put him to sleep multiple times. And every time he ran into Moon-jo at church, the man would ask what he thought of the offer, so Jong-woo had to tell him to wait a few more days.
Having completed his supposedly thorough preparations, when the designated day arrived, he spoke up with a truly serious attitude this time.
"I think my homosexuality disease is completely cured; God has guided me. So I really, really want to work for the Lord..."
Hearing the words "completely cured," the whole family, who had been cheering and celebrating, suddenly switched to faces full of suspicion.
"To that extent? No one in this house ever imagined such a scenario."
The whole family shook their heads in exasperation, but Jong-woo maintained a straight face. He couldn't crumble here. Anyway, he wanted to escape from that church now, plus he would get to be closer to Pastor Seo—it was truly killing two birds with one stone. Despite his terrible acting, thanks to his fake sincerity, Jong-woo successfully fooled his family.
"So what are you planning to do?" His mother asked, setting a plate of fruit down on the table.
Jong-woo scratched his head: "Ah, about that, the Pastor said his work needs me..."
Jin-woo quickly stabbed a piece of apple with his fork, speaking while chewing loudly: "Pastor Seo? I heard he's really handsome?"
And just like that, a hint of suspicion sprouted in his mother again.
Yoon Jin-woo. You good-for-nothing bastard.
"No, I told you it's for the Lord, for the Lord!" Jong-woo hurriedly waved his hands.
Just like that, he ended up coming to this office and actually working with him all the way into his second year. Jong-woo's job was to infiltrate the cults that Moon-jo had tracked down. He would dig up information and send it back to him; occasionally, if there was no work, he would help the Deaconess in charge of administration sort out files; when work stalled and there was no progress, he would just sit around chatting with Moon-jo and go hanging out.
It might not sound like a big deal, but that first task was the biggest problem. Cults were always on the prowl, looking for new prey to bleed dry of money or exploit, but because their very nature was abnormal, if they noticed any suspicious signs, they would secretly keep their guard up and tail you.
In the beginning, Jong-woo couldn't find any clues and just poked around blindly, which resulted in a prior record of being tailed by their people. It really was true that he had to shoulder all the dangerous work. Fortunately, he found out early, so nothing serious happened.
Seo Moon-jo knew that full well, yet he dropped a comment that made one's blood boil: "Oh my, you must be careful and keep yourself safe, Evangelist Yoon."
Why was this bastard so gentle before? Was the persona I saw back then all a lie? He had once harbored such doubts all by himself, but much later, upon learning the truth that Moon-jo had always been watching over him and had cleaned up the mess neatly, a sliver of being touched crept into his heart.
Turns out the Pastor really is a gentle person.
Now, he no longer did such blatant things that easily aroused suspicion. After that single experience, Jong-woo had figured out his own method to blend in and infiltrate their ranks.
Not acting out of line, obediently following instructions, and occasionally dropping a few intentionally naive questions like: "Is this the right way to do it?" to bait them into blabbering more, while only moving strictly within the boundaries of their required doctrines.
Thanks to his ability to blend in well, he easily grasped exactly what those people desired. That was exactly the kind of capability Moon-jo truly needed. On top of that, despite attending church regularly, he was someone who didn't exude that distinct "vibe" of a Protestant. Moon-jo had been extremely satisfied with his own eye for people for a long time.
Even so, who on earth would just nod and agree when suddenly asked to do something like that? He completely understood the feelings of those who had practically run for their lives before. It was one thing for the work to be exhausting, but this involved sneaking right into the lairs of cults, stealing this and that; for those who genuinely served the Lord, their conscience must have been eating them alive.
Although Jong-woo was a suitable talent in every aspect, he was still always curious about what kind of trust Moon-jo was basing it on to entrust this job to him. Had he already seen right through my heart? From time to time, that suspicion would strongly rear its head.
The one absolute reason he couldn't refuse. It was the feelings he harbored for him. But he was too much of a coward to dare say it out loud. What right did someone who was once deemed possessed by Satan, pushed to God's doorstep, have to confess his love to the man hunting down and purifying those who went against His holy will?
Whenever there was no work, he would sit peacefully, quietly reading the Bible. Then, seeing Jong-woo about to die of boredom, he would take him out to watch a movie and grab something to eat; he would blatantly ignore being nagged to get married, but would frequently ask if Jong-woo was dating anyone. And when Jong-woo gave a vague answer to brush it off, he would tease: "You think working for me and for the Lord is just too good, don't you?"
Pastor Seo—heartless, soulless, and only doing whatever he pleased.
Every time he realized that Jong-woo was only in his twenties, Moon-jo would lament: "I feel so guilty I could die, it's like I'm forcing a child to do hard labor." But right after that, he would cling to him and not let go: "Even so, I can't do without you, so we absolutely have to do this together."
When Jong-woo actually got hurt and dragged his battered body back, Pastor Seo would take him all the way home with a pained expression. The next morning, a bag filled with all sorts of medicine would be left dangling from his doorknob. Pastor Seo, who didn't know any songs other than hymns, yet carefully organized all the cassette tapes Jong-woo bought and kept them neat in his Pride car, and for a long time would only listen to the very last tape Jong-woo had shoved into the player. Pastor Seo, tossing out sweet words with a beaming face, saying that their meeting was God's will and that he was extremely pleased with this arrangement. Pastor Seo, who would tease and play with Jong-woo's emotions dozens of times a day—even though he was used to it, it still never ceased to make his heart heavy.
All of those things combined, that was Seo Moon-jo.
Ever since the summer of 1998, he had been preparing for the doomsday that was supposed to hit in 1999. "Until then, we are a community bound by a shared destiny, Jong-woo. Even if the real doomsday they keep babbling about does arrive, at that exact moment, we will hold each other's hands tightly and never let go."
He said it with such affection. Running around in all directions to prepare for the era when cults would run rampant. And then, Jong-woo was planted once again to approach Kim Chae-sung, the cult leader whose background they were currently investigating.
The social atmosphere was already chaotic to begin with, and it seemed the number of fanatical believers was also massive. Just thinking about it was terrifying. How was he supposed to fend for himself once he got there? Jumping into that mess without getting beaten to a pulp would be lucky enough. Rumors were starting to buzz everywhere—things like "The Great King of Terror is descending, so everything is meaningless," or "The Earth is about to be destroyed"—and they were gradually taking over people's minds. Moon-jo was extremely dissatisfied with this reality.
"Jong-woo, you won't get swept up in that kind of stuff, right?"
When it was just the two of them left alone, he would speak in that sweet, caressing tone. He never said these things to anyone else. A Seo Moon-jo who always believed that even God's lambs had their own freedom, yet acted so strangely, binding only Yoon Jong-woo to himself.
"You won't be like that, will you? You'll stay, just like me, right?"
He kept asking that over and over, countless times. Jong-woo grumbled in response that he had been in this line of work for two years now, so how could he be so easily swept up? If he were that gullible, back when Moon-jo tossed him into those various cult dens, he would have been brainwashed into a believer ages ago. And yet, seeing the relieved expression on his face, he felt a sense of satisfaction, realizing he was still a necessary existence to this man. Everything stopped exactly at that boundary; that was the entirety of the territory he was allowed to possess.
Could I crave for more than that? About that... he wasn't so sure. It seemed like he would be overstepping his bounds.
Among the tribulations God had bestowed upon Jong-woo, Moon-jo was probably included. He kept that pain right by his side, quietly gnawing on it all by himself.
Is this truly a tribulation that I can overcome? He asked himself. Or is it a test? To see if I can turn the lies I told my family into reality? Ugh, this was too damn hard. There was absolutely no way to comprehend the true holy will of a supreme being like God.
Dear Lord, this man who is pouring his heart and soul into punishing those who exploit Your holy will to satisfy their own greed—why is it that to me, his existence only brings endless turbulence? I truly do not understand. However, if my following him, and even the fact that a gay man like me has fallen in love with this man, are all part of Your arrangement, then please, just let me know one thing.
If the truth that I am in love with him is a universal truth, then these feelings aren't something evil, right, my Lord?
If that is truly the case, I will no longer harbor even the slightest doubt about everything that is happening. Whatever You will, I shall obey. Please give me an answer.
Amen.