ACJ 13

Episode 13

Standing before the telescope where Yoo Sungwoo was, Hayan found herself recalling an incident from the past.

“Can you even see anything in broad daylight?”

As a new recruit, brimming with rookie confidence, Hayan had once asked that question to her distant superior, Yoo Sungwoo.

“Hey! I told you to stay quiet…!”

Her senior at the time nearly fainted in shock, but Yoo Sungwoo himself answered calmly.

“The sun is there, isn’t it?”
“You can observe the sun through a telescope?”
“Of course. It’s a star.”

Intrigued, Hayan had followed his gesture.

“Would you like to see for yourself?”

That day, under his guidance, she observed the sun through his telescope. He even lent her the device and kindly shared a few useful tips about stargazing. Among them was the chilling warning that looking at the sun through a telescope without a solar filter could cause instant blindness.

“Well? Quite a sight, isn’t it?”

Smiling against the backdrop of sunlight, Yoo Sungwoo was nothing like the fearsome reputation Hayan had heard from her seniors.

When they returned to the office, however, the senior accompanying her heaved a sigh.

“You… never ask the branch leader careless questions again.”

Perplexed, Hayan tilted her head.

“I don’t get why everyone is so wary of him. He seemed kind to me—explained things patiently, smiled all the while…”
“Idiot, that’s the scary part.”
“Huh?”
“If he said outright that he didn’t like it, at least you’d know where you stood. The problem is he never shows it. If you’d asked something personal instead of about astronomy… ugh.”
“He’d get angry?”
“No. He’d answer very kindly.”
“Then why…?”
“And the next day, when you came to work, your desk would be gone.”

The words made little sense to her then, but the senior whispered the warning anyway:

“Remember this—people don’t only smile when they’re happy. Yoo Sungwoo is living proof of that.”

Though she thought it was just needless fearmongering, that sentence lodged itself deep in her memory. Years later, when that very senior and nearly all the early staff of the secretary’s office were dismissed, she finally understood it hadn’t been an exaggeration. By then, however, it was already too late to quit.

Snapping back from her thoughts, Hayan swallowed hard and spoke.

“…I was told you called for me.”

Yoo Sungwoo lifted his face from the telescope and smiled.

“Have you been well?”
“…Yes.”
“I regret what happened with Hayang.”

Neatly combed platinum hair, a crisp white shirt, and a smooth, polished voice. He looked ready to stand at any official event this very moment—but Hayan knew he likely hadn’t slept a single hour in the past five days. The fact that it didn’t show at all was what frightened her.

“Rather than waste your time, I’ll get straight to the point.”
“Of course.”

He pulled a chair close and sat down.

“There’s something odd about this reflux incident.”

His voice was unhurried, deliberate.

“I was informed that Hayang was under psychic brainwashing. But when I arrived, she wasn’t. Why is that?”

Hayan fought to keep from flinching.

“It’s fortunate, yes, but… also abnormal.”

His black hand toyed with the desk ornament—five metal balls suspended in a row by strings. Newton’s cradle.

“When I began the trial dispelling, Hayang was raving like someone possessed—searching only for you. The Judgment of Pride should’ve commanded her to harm her fellow apostles.”

The steel balls clicked together rhythmically.

The steady motion almost lulled Hayan into a trance.

“If the counselor hadn’t intervened, Hayang would have ended up like the others…”

She remembered the apostles carried out in bloodied heaps, and forced herself to speak.

“I’m… sorry, I don’t quite understand what you’re saying…”
“But you do understand, don’t you?”

Sweat beaded at her temples. He was right.

“At the time, I was told you let an outsider into the reflux zone.”

“…”

“Interestingly, using my name.”

Yes. She had suspected as much since the moment she was summoned—that it would come back to Lee Cheoeum.

“The black helmet.”

Her breath caught.

His vertically slit pupils fixed on her trembling hands.

“I believe that person freed Hayang from the brainwashing.”

Nothing could be hidden before this man.

“As far as I know, there is no apostle in this country capable of undoing S-class psychic corruption…”

His black eyes glimmered.

“Who is he?”

[The Covenant weighs upon your soul.]
[You swore before this book.]

The warning of Toledoth tightened around Hayan’s heart.

“You shall not reveal me to others, and you shall continue these counseling sessions truthfully. In return, I will do my utmost to free your younger brother from psychic control.”

To mention Lee Cheoeum now would be a clear violation of that covenant.

[Upon breach, all authority weakens for three days.]

Yet the penalty was laughably minor. For someone like Hayan, not a high-ranking apostle, three days of weakened powers meant almost nothing.

“…I refuse to answer.”

She chose silence anyway.

Yoo Sungwoo’s eyes narrowed.

“Refuse?”

“I… I’m not good at lying. Better to say nothing.”

Indeed, she had never been able to lie well.

“So I have nothing to say on that matter.”

That was the best she could offer—for the sake of her savior.

“Do you think your silence will keep me from finding him?”

Hayan silently shook her head.

“And yet you’ll stay quiet?”

“…”

“You know I keep files on the families of all my staff, as you consented upon hire. If I feel no familiarity at all, then you must’ve met this person recently. And yet you say he outweighs your career?”

The suffocating weight of his apostolic aura crushed her. Her body froze, her breath grew faint.

“I… have a prior promise. And I believe you, sir, prefer those who keep their word.”

For once, Hayan forced herself to look him square in the eye.

His gaze sharpened.

“Interesting.”

He had always considered her meek to the bone—one reason he’d kept her by his side for so long. But now…

“This is the first time I’ve seen you like this.”

The oppressive pressure vanished in an instant.

“I do value sincerity. But what I value more… is cleverness.”

“…”

“And your choice just now—well, you know what it was.”

He didn’t press her further. <Burim>’s intelligence network was hardly so weak as to rely solely on squeezing a subordinate.

Still, he couldn’t let her misuse his name go unpunished.

“Once your leave ends, where should we send you… Ah.”

His eyes curved into a smile.

“How about Haenam? A little sea breeze would do you good.”

“…Ah.”

Her face drained of all color.

As one of the largest branches, <Burim> had offices across the nation, Haenam included. It was common practice to send staff on “business trips” to other branches.

But ever since the first calamity, the seaside had become hell. Though the waters had turned blue again, monsters still emerged from the ocean. People called them Honghaejong—Red Sea Spawn.

Any mission near the coast was exponentially more dangerous.

And now this city-bred weakling was being sent there.

“I’m doomed.”

“Well then, safe travels.”

“…”

“No need to buy me a gift. A few seashells will do.”

Hayan trembled as she watched him wave.

“This… cruel man…”

“Yes…”

Biting back tears, she nodded. After all, it was true—she had abused his name.

“Still… I’ve bought a little time.”

He would surely track down Lee Cheoeum eventually. But for now, even a small delay mattered.

Exiting the office, Hayan erased every trace of Cheoeum from her phone before opening the “Exchange Diary.”

“I don’t know if this will help you, counselor. But I hope it does.”

That was how Lee Cheoeum came to receive the message.