The Cult Leader in the Clergy Academy

Chapter 96

Yeom Man-Gun from the Jeolla Branch was staying in Room 202. He had managed to get a good room, considering he was alone. Rooms 301 and 302 were the largest and best rooms, followed by Rooms 202 and 201.

“What in tarnation am I to do? Y'see, I gotta make a break for it." There, Yeom Man-Gun was holding a receiver and talking to none other than Ha Pan-Seok from the Chungcheong Branch. Due to the plan to eliminate or impeach the Cult Leader and then replace him with Ha Soo-Yeong as the Fourth Cult Leader was falling apart, Yeom Man-Gun and Ha Pan-Seok were sweating in their socks.

"Ya know, we gotta find a way to get by, 'cause reckon we can't go 'round startin' no rebellion or coup d'état, no sir." When Ha Pan-Seok, who was forced into a corner due to the exposure of the scheme or rebelling, asked about the future plans, Yeom Man-Gun said that running away was the best option.

Through the receiver, Yeom Man-Gun could hear Ha Pan-Seok’s screams.

“Damn, you’re giving my ear a ringing! Well, shucks, do ya happen to have yerself a good ol' idea..." Just as Yeom Man-Gun was about to say something, he stopped talking and held his breath.

He felt a presence beyond the door. In the darkness, his pupils darted rapidly from side to side.

"I'll call you back."

Click.

Yeom Man-Gun hung up the phone and stood up from his seat. He hid behind the door and unleashed Voodoo magic. The presence beyond the door remained motionless.

Knock, knock...

Then, the sound of knocking echoed through the air.

His heartbeat grew louder and louder. His hair stood on end, and his body trembled. Cold sweat dripped down. It was not Ha Pan-Seok, nor was it Yoon Chang-Soo or Yuk Eun-Hyung. It was clear that the presence was that of a ghost or, even scarier than a ghost, the Cult Leader.

"Is anyone there?" A voice came from the other side. As expected, it was the voice of the Cult Leader.

‘Fuck, the Cult Leader is here to end me!’

Silently lamenting, Yeom Man-Gun hid his body behind the door. Then, he unleashed Voodoo magic and began drawing a spell array.

"I could have sworn I saw someone go in earlier...."

Krk, krrkkk–!!

Following the Cult Leader’s muttering, cracking sounds could be heard at the door. Yum Man-Gun’s hand trembled with fear.

‘He’s going to forcefully tear the door open!’

Crack!

Finally, the door opened. No, it wasn’t opened but pried. Yeom Man-Gun quickly aimed his curse of fainting spell at the man entering through the door. It was a predictable and hastily made spell, so he wasn't sure if it would be effective, but there was no better spell to use against a person.

"..."

However, no mist flowed out of the spell array. The spell array had not been activated in the first place. Some strong and strange power, perhaps the power of the Cult Leader, had dismantled the spell array. Yeom Man-Gun gulped. An unfamiliar and eerie fear, like he had never felt before, danced down his spine.

"The curse of fainting spell is a bit obvious."

Click.

The man entered through the door and turned on the lights. Yeom Man-Gun quickly shielded his eyes from the sudden burst of light, which made it hard to make out the man’s. Yeom Man-Gun’s blurry vision gradually returned to normal, allowing him to look at the man appearing before him.

“...Cult Leader.”

"Don’t worry about me. I’m not here to cause any harm," the Cult Leader said as he walked into the room confidently.

Although he claimed he didn't come to cause any harm, it was clear that he had come to accomplish something along those lines. That was because Yeom Man-Gun was one of the main forces behind the rebellion. From Sun-Woo's perspective, there was no reason to keep him alive.

Yeom Man-Gun unleashed Voodoo magic and drew the next spell array. It would have been complete with just one stroke. However, somehow it didn't feel like the spell would activate even if the spell array was completed. The mysterious power that the Cult Leader possessed... The Cult Leader’s ability to manipulate Voodoo magic in order to dismantle the spell array and control the Voodoo mist was the problem.

"P-Please spare me!" In the end, Yeom Man-Gun stopped drawing the spell array and fell to his knees. Using the spell would be meaningless, and it would only further the Cult Leader’s distaste toward him. In times like this, it was best to get on one's knees and beg for one's life.

"I’m just a massager. Please spare me."

"Massager.. a messenger?" [1]

Yeom Man-Gun continued to explain after the question was asked. He explained that everything he did was at the behest of Ha Pan-Seok from the Chungcheong Branch, and he was merely a lackey for Ha Pan-Seok and was never directly involved in the rebellion. He continued to defend himself at length.

"...."

The Cult Leader nodded silently, pulled a chair, and sat down. Then, calmly crossing his legs, he looked down at Yeom Man-Gun.

Every movement the Cult Leader made him look like he was full of openings. However, Yeom Man-Gun couldn't even think of rebelling because of the Voodoo magic that was flowing gently from the Cult Leader’s fingertips. The Voodoo magic took on a pure violet hue without any impurities. Just by looking at the color of the magic, one could tell how strong the spell would be when activated.

"Executive Yeom Man-Gun."

"Yes sir..."

"Why are you acting like that? Get up and sit comfortably. If you keep acting like this, I won't feel at ease either," said the Cult Leader with a sly smile. It was a warm smile but also chilling at the same time.

Yeom Man-Gun felt grateful for the Cult Leader’s mercy, but he also tried not to let his guard down as he sat on the wobbly chair.

"Is the factory doing well?" The Cult Leader threaded his fingers together.

Yeom Man-Gun nodded silently, with his clenched fist resting on his knee. At that moment, the Cult Leader started rummaging through his pocket. Yeom Man-Gun swallowed nervously. He was afraid of what might come out of that pocket. In the worst-case scenario, it could be a zombification drug or at least a dagger. Yet, contrary to his expectations, the Cult Leader pulled out a cell phone. He pushed the cell phone screen toward Yeom Man-Gun.

“Executive Lee Jin-Sung uses coins as a means of money laundering. Excluding the operating funds of the cult, this is the amount of money that has fallen into my hands."

Coins. Yeom Man-Gun had heard of them before. People around him had disappeared after taking in giant debts to invest and selling all of their household appliances.

Man-Gun counted the numbers beyond the screen. Hundred, thousand, ten thousand... Even if one coin was worth one hundred won, it would equate to a significant amount of money.

"I’ve been told that one coin is worth about a thousand won."

"A thousand won!" Yeom Man-Gun unconsciously repeated the Cult Leader’s words.

It would have been a lot even if one coin was worth a hundred won, but a thousand won meant that the sum was equal to an unimaginably huge amount of money. However, little did he know he was about to be even more surprised. The words that the Cult Leader uttered immediately after were even more shocking.

"I will give you half of this money."

"...." Yeom Man-Gun just stood in silence and scratched the shaved part on the side of his head. He felt a chill down his spine. It felt like an ice cube was slowly creeping up from his spine to the back of his neck. At the same time, there was a burning heat resonating from the core of his being. He couldn’t help but get excited from seeing all that money.

Giving half of the money meant that the Cult Leader was trying to buy him out. He was telling him to abandon Ha Pan-Seok and join his side in exchange for money. To put it bluntly, he might even order Man-Gun to eliminate Ha Pan-Seok altogether.

"I understand what you mean, Cult Leader. I will take care of Ha Pan-Seok and come back..." He had been happy with his life spared, but with wealth on the line as well, there was no reason for him to refuse. Although it bothered him to betray Ha Pan-Seok, in Yeom Man-Gun's opinion, there was nothing more foolish than risking his life in exchange for loyalty.

"How can you say such cruel words?" However, the Cult Leader seemed indifferent—he laughed it off as if he had heard some kind of joke.

"Th-then, what is all the money for?"

Soon, the amicable expression lingering on the Cult Leader's face disappeared. Yeom Man-Gun saw an intensely cold fervor in the Cult Leader’s gaze. It was a contradictory expression, but there was no other way to explain the mysterious gaze.

"I am thinking of renting your factory to work together on something."

"By factory, I reckon you mean.." Yeom Man-Gun hesitated and tightly closed his eyes, clearly showing reluctance.

Betraying Ha Pan-Seok would lead to a momentary pang of conscience, but giving away the factory was a different story.

"Ah, well..." Yeom Man-Gun’s words were diplomatic, but they clearly showed hesitancy.

The Cult Leader firmly closed his mouth and lowered his gaze. Then he nodded his head slightly twice.

Kkurr, kkurururuk...

Then, something unknown started to surge through the torn door. It was wrapped in darkness and vaguely resembled dozens of giant pythons.

Whirr!

"Gasp!"

Following the Cult Leader’s gesture, one of the pythons coiled roughly around Yeom Man-Gun's neck and then slowly began to tighten its grip.

"Oh, lawd, please spare me! I-I'll do whatever the Cult Leader tells me to, I swear!” Yeom Man-Gun desperately shouted while clawing at the scales of the python wrapped around his neck. He could feel the rough texture of the bark on his fingertips.

The Cult Leader looked at Yeom Man-Gun with a cold, unsympathetic gaze, and smirked.

"Is that so? Does that mean you can also lend me the factory?" the Cult Leader asked again.

It was obvious that giving the Cult Leader control over the factory would make life hard to get by. However, he couldn’t just say no. If he did, the Cult Leader would immediately strangle his throat and kill him.

The question was: ‘Do I die now or later?’

Without a doubt, it was better to die later. Yeom Man-Gun believed that as long as he was alive, there was a chance for redemption.

Finally, he nodded his head.

Thump.

Suddenly, the tree branch that had been tightly wrapped around his neck loosened. Yeom Man-Gun gasped for breath and collapsed on the spot. The Cult Leader, in the same indifferent posture as before, looked down at him as if nothing had happened.

"Why are you so surprised?" the Cult Leader asked.

Yeom Man-Gun was shocked by the inhuman coldness radiating from the Cult Leader, but he couldn't tell the truth. He quickly racked his brain to find an answer that would diffuse the situation.

"Ah, no. Well, now, did y'all manage to recover the Altar or somethin'...?" It was a thoughtless remark made in haste.

Immediately after, he realized he had made a mistake.

The cold, emotionless glare of the Cult Leader had turned to a fiery gaze of anger directed at Yeom Man-Gun's face.

"...Recover?" In response to the Cult Leader's anger, the branches outside the door writhed like snakes.

The Cult Leader added, "How do you know about that?"

"I-I heard it from Ha Pan-Seok, and I’m nothin’ but a messenger." Yeom Man-Gun had really repeated the words he had heard from Ha Pan-Seok. He was clueless about why the Cult Leader was so angry. This was so unfair.

"Executive Ha Pan-Seok said that." The Cult Leader repeated Man-Gun’s words.

“Yes, sir. I-I'm tellin' ya. I'm innocent, I swear!" Yeom Man-Gun nodded urgently, claiming his innocence without even knowing what he did wrong.

"Hahaha...." The Cult Leader let out a maniacal laugh.

Yeom Man-Gun tightly closed his eyes. Based on the atmosphere of the room, It felt like he had made a huge mistake. The tree branches swaying beyond the Cult Leader's shoulder seemed like they could strangle him at any moment.

"Makes sense," the Cult Leader finally muttered.

Yeom Man-Gun opened his eyes. The branches were swaying beyond the torn door, but it was just the wind blowing. The Cult Leader was not posing any threat or harm to him.

"That's that, but we still have unfinished business to discuss." The Cult Leader raised his hands on his knees facing the sky.

"It's not a bad trade deal for me and for you."

***

When it came to the "job" of renting Executive Yeom Man-Gun’s factory, it seemed like they should listen to the opinions of other executives before setting it into motion. So, they decided to make the final decision at the meeting at 11 o'clock. It was natural and fortunate, but Yeom Man-Gun seemed to be very excited about this job.

[What are you going to do about Ha Pan-Seok?] Legba asked, anger apparent in his voice.

"...We’re going to follow the principles."

[You don’t seem to like the idea.]

Of course, I didn’t like the idea. It would have been a lot easier to make a choice if he was a loner, but he wasn’t. However, if I left him alone, I would be in danger... That's why I had no choice but to handle it according to the rules.

[A just choice,] Legba said as if he were satisfied.

I thought it was more of a matter of evaluating my gains and losses than choosing to do what was right, but I kept quiet.

I left Yeom Man-Gun's room and went down the stairs. As I descended, the darkness that had settled on the ground grew closer. By the time I reached the first floor, everything was engulfed in darkness to the point where I couldn't see even an inch ahead. I pushed through the darkness and moved deeper into the mountains. My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness.

Caw, cacawww...

Snap, snap...

I could hear the sound of a bird crying out from all around or the screams of leaves brushed by the wind, but I didn't feel scared. It was rather cozy.

[You can illuminate the path ahead using Marinette's fire. You could also summon the candle of consciousness,] Legba suggested subtly, but I shook my head.

"There's romance in the darkness. Especially in the mountains."

I was familiar with the darkness. It was similar to why Ji-Ah preferred warehouses or attics.

[Hmm... I still don’t get it.]

I brushed off Legba’s sigh and walked silently along the mountain path. I did bring my phone just in case, but I didn't really want to check the time. The feeling of the darkness swallowing up time and space, taking away my temporal and spatial awareness, was pleasant.

"Is this far enough?"

[Looks good.]

I walked for who knew how long and found a fairly decent place. It was a plaza-like area with flat ground and almost no trees. The plaza formed an almost perfect circle, almost like it was an artificial creation.

I looked up. The stars were shining brightly in the sky. The trees swayed on the edge. However, there was no time to lose myself in the scenery. I didn't come here to appreciate the landscape. I unleashed Voodoo magic and drew a spell array for the replication spell, candle of consciousness.

I conjured as many candles as possible and spread them in a circle around me. The purple light of the candles seeped into the darkness. The darkness, filled with light, surrounded me.

[Very stable. The atmosphere is quite nice too,] Legba murmured quietly.

After the Ritual of Succession, there were two major changes. The first was my new ability to use replication spells multiple times simultaneously. For replication spell spells below the intermediate level, such as the candle of consciousness, I was able to cast ten of the spells at once.

The second was my ability to adjust the intensity of the spell. It quite literally became possible for me to arbitrarily adjust the power of the spell. I could change the power of not only enthrallment spells or restoration spells, but also the intensity of replication spell spells. For example, in the case of the candles, it was possible to adjust the brightness of the light.

[The First Cult Leader was good in the art of adjustment. Thanks to that, he had a very happy marriage.]

"Huh?"

[Just kidding,] Legba chuckled.

I didn't understand the joke.

[Let’s move on. We’re not here to discuss spells.] Legba changed the subject.

It was a bit strange, but I decided to let it go. As Legba said, I did not come here for spell practice. What I was about to do was a practice that could only be done "here."

"Sobo, Bade, Dan Wedo." The point of the practice was to control the unpredictable Loa.

Bossou and Granbwa listened well and had immense power. However, their powers came with significant drawbacks, so it was difficult to use them frequently. These three were different.

Sobo was the Loa of thunder and lightning. Dan Wedo was the Loa of water and rain. Bade was Sobo's brother and the Loa of wind. These three Loa barely listened to the words of the Prophet, but their powers were tremendous and relatively less prone to drawbacks. They were like a double-edged sword that couldn’t be controlled, but if they could be, they would be my most reliable allies.

Rumble–!

[Enter Sobo, Ah, Bade!]

[Bade Enters, Oh, Sobo!]

At that moment, thunder roared, announcing the arrival of Sobo and Bade. Bade, like Sobo, had a casual tone and a capricious personality. As brothers, they had similar personalities, speech, and voices.

[Are you ready, Ba?]

[Of course, So.]

[Dan We... Will bring rain...!]

Swaaaaa–!

Sobo, Bade, and Dan Wedo’s voices alternated, echoing through the clear sky as dark clouds gathered and rain poured down. Sharp and chilly winds scattered the rain in every direction. Flashes of lightning streaked through the gaps in the clouds, heralding the thunder.

Ruuuumble....

Occasionally, thunder echoed through the mountain ridges, sounding eerie and foreboding as if the mountains were wailing. Rain, wind, thunder, and lightning gathered around me, converging into a fierce storm that seemed capable of sweeping the mountain away.

[Are you sure you’ll be okay?] Legba asked softly in the midst of the overlapping noise created by the voices of Sobo, Bade, and Dan Wedo.

In truth, my head had already started throbbing and felt as if it would split open. But I couldn't afford to be dramatic. I had to control the massive storm raging around me, so I couldn't waste my energy on a headache.

"Sobo, Bade, Dan Wedo!" I shouted their names amidst the raging storm.

Grrung─!

They responded by intensifying the power of the storm. The circle of candles of consciousness swayed dangerously in the wind. My styled hair was soaked by the rain and whipped around by the it, becoming a mess.

"───!" At some point, the storm became so strong that even my voice couldn't be heard.

If I relaxed even a little, it felt like I would be blown away by the wind. The rain kept pouring down. Lightning was splitting the sky into thousands of pieces. The trees covering the mountainside were repeatedly knocked down by the wind and then were whipped back up again. The entire mountain shook.

"──, ──, ─ ──!" I called their names again.

My voice was drowned out by the noise, and there was no reply. Suddenly, fear began to well up inside me. Could I really control this storm? Did I do something foolish that I couldn’t even handle? Soon, I regained my composure. If I was going to crumble just from this, I wouldn’t have started in the first place.

"────!" I recited a prayer.

My voice was broken by the sound of the rain, wind, and thunder. Yet, I didn't stop praying. The Voodoo Cult was a religion born during oppression and suppression. The screams for freedom from the slaves had naturally turned into the principles of the Voodists. Therefore, the prayers of the Voodoo Cult were roars and howls of defiance.

Craaacckkk—!

Shaking and uprooting trees, a storm rushed fiercely toward me. My voice murmuring the prayer was feeble against the screams of the storm, and the heavy raindrops mercilessly struck my body while the blades of wind cut through my flesh. There was a flash of light.

Boom—!

Lightning struck, splitting a tree in half. The debris of the fallen tree fell down above my head. I did not stop my prayer. That’s because that was what a Voodooist prayer was: a feeble roar from a human withstanding the fear of an unstoppable disaster.

1. Yeom Man-Gun has a thick accent. Here he says ???(simbaram), which is a Korean country dialect for saying ???(simburum). The word massager was used to convey a thick accent which Sun-Woo could mistake as him saying massager rather than messenger. ?

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