Chapter 243

Lately, Jio had been introducing the saintess to all sorts of new experiences.

“So that's why you made this...?”

“Yes.”

Jio beamed.

“Isn't tteokbokki wonderful?”

“I hear it used to be sold all over Korea before the Great Catastrophe.”

“It breaks my heart that hardly anyone seems to sell it these days.”

“These days...? How old were you again, Hunter Seo Jio?”

“That isn't important. What matters is the tteokbokki in front of us.”

“Ah, yes.”

The bishop looked at the tteokbokki on the white plate.

“I don't believe we had any rice cakes here?”

“I made them myself and brought them over. I was worried, since it had been a while, but fortunately they turned out well.”

At that, the saintess Aram's eyes sparkled.

“I've never had tteokbokki before.”

Jio's expression turned serious.

“Never?”

“No. Rice cakes aren't easy to come by, are they?”

Above all, the Moon Cult's members were not people who devoted effort to fine dining. Not unless it was itself a research subject. To its priests, food was merely fuel. Luxuries such as rice cakes rarely came through their doors.

“We could probably have ordered some if we'd wanted to. But so many people ask us to put more effort into acquiring research materials rather than spend money on ingredients...”

If even one person had said, “Oh, I'd like to eat this,” they would have procured it. The Moon Cult was by no means an impoverished order without money to spare. But not a single person had ever brought it up.

Jio looked profoundly dismayed.

“No wonder the pantry was always so poorly stocked...”

“Poorly stocked? Was it that bad?”

The bishop was taken aback. As the person overseeing the entire order, she had thought it adequate. The brothers and sisters responsible for cleaning and cooking had never said anything, either. A reaction like Hunter Seo Jio's was unfamiliar to her.

But Jio was already filled with a sense of duty.

“Then shall we eat before the tteokbokki gets cold?”

He had to turn these research-obsessed bags of bones into pigs. Surely that was the shortcut to world peace.

“I'm a little embarrassed. It's been so long since I last made this that I'm not sure I captured the market-stall feel.”

“The market-stall feel...?”

“The saintess expressed an interest in food culture before the Great Catastrophe, so I chose some snack foods that were common at the time. Sweet tteokbokki, fritters, blood sausage, liver, and the like.”

“You really do know a great deal about food culture before the Great Catastrophe.”

These foods were hard to find nowadays.

“Did you make a special study of it?”

“In a sense, you could say that.”

Jio smiled as he thought,

'These Moon Cult people really can't imagine any explanation other than studying, can they?'

He simply liked eating.

Before the Great Catastrophe, every last one of them would have gotten into Harvard. They presumably did feel that particular Moon Cult sense of duty to “make the world better through knowledge and wisdom.” But no matter how he looked at it, they seemed to be doing this simply because studying was fun.

'Their insular culture didn't come from nowhere.'

Geniuses had a tendency to be like that. They struggled to interact with the world because everyone else was so stupid. How frustrating it must be to watch people grope around on all fours to confirm what was obvious at a glance.

Gather such geniuses together and keep them shut away in one community for their entire lives, and this was the result. The Moon Cult's members simply applied their own way of thinking to everyone else: “We're like this, so you must be too, right?”

'No social skills.'

These frogs in a well.

'The well being so big must have done them more harm than good.'

But not to worry. Jio was already prepared to grab them by the hair and drag them out into the wider world. They needed to rub shoulders and clash with other people, compatible or not, to learn when something was wrong.

“Is it to your taste? You didn't seem accustomed to hot spices, so I made it as sweet as I could...”

“It's spicy!!!”

“Good heavens.”

Aram sprang from her seat and poured water into her mouth. Jio, who had been about to pour her some sweet juice, hesitated. Then he set the nicely filled glass in front of the trembling bishop instead.

“I-I did try to make it sweet...”

“... Thank you...”

“I had no idea you had so little tolerance for spice.”

“I believe it's because we rarely use spices in the order's meals.”

“Why on earth not?”

“Strong flavors and aromas interfere with thought...”

“But why, really?”

Look at these poor lambs. They knew absolutely nothing of the pleasures of good food. He had already thought things were rather dire when he inspected their pantry, but this was too much.

'... Has the average Korean's tolerance for spicy food gone down?'

Come to think of it, even chili powder took a fair amount of time and care to make. This was an age when everything was homemade. Growing peppers, picking them, drying them, removing the stems and seeds, and grinding them would all have cost money.

'Supply and demand for hot spices must certainly have dropped, but...'

Collector was simply exceptionally wealthy. From what Ju-hyeon had told him, ordinary everyday meals were practically Buddhist temple food. There were fewer opportunities overall to enjoy such intensely flavored dishes.

“... Hmm...”

Even so, the Moon Cult was an extreme case.

“I should have made it a little sweeter.”

“No, it was quite delicious.”

The bishop, who had calmly managed the burning on her tongue from the start, recovered completely with a single glass of juice. Holding the glass carefully in both hands, she said,

“Any sweeter, and it would have upset the balance of flavors.”

“Thank you for understanding my intent.”

Aram returned to the table and received her juice, looking pale.

“... Now that I think about it, this may be almost the first time I've eaten anything spicy.”

“What is this atrocity from the Moon Cult, which supposedly places such importance on knowledge?”

“No, I was familiar with the taste itself. The very first thing we learn about as prospective priests is our own body. Naturally, that includes experiencing the sense of taste.”

“To help you keep better control of yourselves, then.”

“So I've experienced the sensation of heat, but eating it in food...”

“That's what you meant by 'almost the first time'?”

She was at the level of a newborn.

“If it's too spicy, you could try the fritters. I like dipping them lightly in the tteokbokki sauce. That should be much less spicy, and the texture will be more interesting too.”

“Oh, the sweet potato fritters are delicious. Maybe it's because they're sweet, but they taste much less spicy. The batter is incredibly crisp. And the sweet potato inside crumbles so moistly...”

“Doesn't it?”

To be capable of that level of description already—Aram truly had the makings of a pig.

'You've recognized the true deliciousness of sweet potato fritters.'

For the record, sweet potatoes were Jio's favorite famine crop.

“...”

Watching her, the bishop asked,

“Saintess, is it to your liking?”

“The more I eat, the more addictive it gets.”

“I'm glad you seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“... A-am I being too greedy?”

“Of course I wouldn't call it greed.”

But suddenly, a thought occurred to the bishop.

“... Shall we try eating out next time?”

She ought to let the saintess experience more.

'Though I don't really know what I hope to accomplish by that...'

Seeing the saintess living like a human made her mind go blank.

She didn't know whether this was good or bad. But if every choice was the saintess's to make, perhaps this wasn't a bad thing either. Hunter Seo Jio was also a saint, and he freely experienced whatever took his fancy.

'Yes, it'll be fine.'

Even so, a weight lay inside her.

“...”

She felt she ought to offer a prayer to the Moon.

* * *

“... Good God.”

Yu Seongun clapped a hand over his mouth.

“What is that?”

“The Moon.”

“Why are you holding it?”

“It's a hostage.”

“Why...?”

“They won't try anything foolish while I have the teacher who supplies their knowledge.”

“...”

At that, Yu Seongun muttered,

“... You really do have a villainous streak...”

“A keen observation, my friend.”

Arjio smiled brightly from beyond the portrait.

“Say hello. This is my new friend, the Moon.”

A moon the size of a crystal ball sparkled in Jio's hand, as though greeting Yu Seongun. His eyes narrowed as he studied the moon depicted in the portrait.

“Jio, I'm telling you this because I think you've misunderstood something. Friendship is a relationship where both parties willingly build trust.”

“I haven't abducted, threatened, or brainwashed anyone. I know perfectly well what you think I am, but let me assure you now that nothing as frightening as you're imagining happened.”

Jio had merely spoken with the Moon.

“Isn't talking how one normally makes friends?”

“So this is your new Divinity friend?”

“Yes. It feels like a vast AI born in space... I found it fascinating that it decides how to act and how much knowledge to share based on an enormous amount of data.”

“In that respect, I suppose it has something in common with you.”

“With me?”

“You're developing by merging with 'Jios' who suit you, after all.”

Yu Seongun thought,

'Maybe that's why his imitation of a human has become so much more natural.'

He was now quite adept even at lying, something a Divinity of providence could not do.

“If you look at it that way, will the Moon eventually become a Divinity that can lie too?”

“Hmm. People call those evil gods.”

“It is the quickest and easiest way to distinguish a traditional god from an evil one.”

“Who can say what will become of this friend of mine?”

Jio grinned.

“I'm surprised you aren't more surprised.”

“I've just resigned myself to it. 'So it's finally come to this.'”

Don't go abducting the Divinity of someone else's religion, especially one with a perfectly well-established order.

'Not that he'd listen to me.'

He'd sensed it ever since Jio started talking about religious wars and whatnot. He was going to cause some enormous incident. But at least it wouldn't harm Earth. Best to prepare himself for the minor cleanup.

“At least it's not the sort of being whose absence will start rumors.”

“Is there a particular sort that would?”

“The Moon Cult's Divinity doesn't have a physical manifestation. And direct communication would be difficult for anyone but the saintess. She's the only one capable of that, and she's been so focused on recovering lately that she won't have the energy to notice whether the Divinity is there...”

“But I brought it here to start rumors.”

“...”

Yu Seongun rummaged at his chest, then took out a piece of candy and crunched it up.

“All right. What are you going to do now?”

“Oh dear. Did you just eat that candy in one second? You'll get diabetes, you know. You should watch out for lifestyle diseases.”

“I burn it all off before it can give me diabetes, so don't worry. What are you going to do?”

“Rumors will begin to spread that something has happened to the Moon.”

“And?”

“It is time for my new friends to make their entrance.”

Arjio looked positively delighted.

“Do you like amusement parks?”

“... Well...”

It was nice to see him like this. Yu Seongun grinned.

“I don't dislike them.”

* * *

“...?”

A man asked, looking bewildered,

“... What did you say this was?”

“A promotional flyer!”

“No, that's not what I...”

“You definitely won't regret it.”

“Uh, um... uh...”

Looking nonplussed, the man studied the woman in fox cosplay. Two perked ears, a fluffy tail, and a long, neat maid outfit that revealed no skin whatsoever.

'That's a niche look.'

The man looked back at the flyer.

“... Excuse me, so what exactly is this...?”

When he raised his head, the peculiar fox maid was nowhere to be seen.

“... Huh?”

What was that? Had she been a Hunter?

'Or a monster...?'

But surely a monster wouldn't be handing out flyers to humans. The man calmed his startled heart, deciding she must have been a Hunter who'd chosen a slightly unusual way to advertise.

You could often come across absurd flyers like this in any back alley.

'The conditions and whatnot are so bizarre. Maybe it's a service using her skill. The world really has come a long way. Hunters are using their skills to run all sorts of businesses now...'

There were more than enough Hunters running businesses with intangible skills, so the man wasn't particularly suspicious. It was dubious enough that he wouldn't try it himself, but receiving an offer like this was hardly unusual.

Then, a few days later, at a coworker's suggestion, the man went ahead and performed the actions described in the flyer.

“...”

His eyes bulged with excitement.

“... I-it's real... It's real.”

His mouth split into a broad grin.

“This is insane.”

A few more days later, the government issued a public safety notice. The dungeon “Amusement Park of Dreams” was spreading in popularity, it warned, and citizens should keep their distance rather than approach it rashly.

The citizens did not listen.

(To be continued)