Yayoi spoke in a voice filled with guilt:“After I left the room, I tried my best to think of a way to resolve the conflict between you, but suddenly a voice guided me…”
“It was the voice of the mountains, the voice of the sky, the voice within the fog—it was the voice of a god…”
Hearing this, Kim Jeok-woo actually did not want to face another Sophia again. However, because of the insight he had just reached, he coughed lightly to signal Yayoi to get to the point.
“As I walked on, I saw Father Phano chasing after me, but there was a defilement following behind him. Instinctively, I reached for the salt pouch at my waist to perform a purification… but… it was too fast. It brushed past the priest, and Father Phano suddenly burst into flames. His screams rang endlessly in my ears…”
“That’s actually not surprising. Phano himself was a heavy drinker. He often said that when drunk, he could be closer to his Lord. And he did carry some gunpowder on him…” Kim Jeok-woo explained.
“But… if it weren’t for my reproach, he wouldn’t have sacrificed himself like this…”Kim Jeok-woo lowered his head.
The people of the Base fell silent for a while. Yayoi tried to ease the mood:“Perhaps… this too was Father Phano’s fate.”
Kim Jeok-woo clenched his teeth, dropped to one knee, and slammed his fist into the ground. With a trembling voice, he retorted:
“If this is the fate heaven has given us, then I will change it! Yayoi, you call me a savior—but if I can’t even change the fate of my friends, what right do I have to bear that title? I killed him! Before his Lord, I don’t even have the right to defend myself—I am a sinner!”
Sophia pulled up his hand and pressed it to her cheek, saying:“You bear no sin. Because you and I are already one. I am your weapon—by my life, I strike at evil.”
Kim Jeok-woo looked into the gentleness in her eyes, like sunlight beneath a harsh winter. He knew that what he needed now was resolve, not self-blame, and so he smiled.
At that moment, a roar came from the front of the Base. A one-eyed man wrapped entirely in black leather appeared abruptly along with a group of monsters. The one-eyed man stood in the palm of a giant monster, looking down upon everyone at the Base. After coldly scanning the crowd, his gaze fixed on Kim Jeok-woo.
Faced with this sudden turn of events, no one at the Base dared to breathe or move even a finger, fearing the monsters would devour them or turn them into one of their own.
After staring at Kim Jeok-woo for a moment, Kim broke the silence and said softly,“Wen-wei… is that you?”
“As expected of you, brother—you recognized me at a glance,” the one-eyed man replied in a higher-pitched tone.
“It’s only been a day. How did you change so completely?”
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that your group should not be here anymore—because you’ve exceeded that lord’s expectations.”After speaking, Li Wen-wei pointed at Sophia.
Sophia glared back, made a face, and said,“Traitor!”
“Heh… In your eyes, I may just be a traitor. Since I am a traitor, there’s no need to explain much. It was all for the greater picture.”
Li Wen-wei pointed at his remaining eye and said,“Don’t forget—if you only look at the surface, you’ll eventually be eaten by the gray bear.”
“I don’t know what you came here for, but judging by how much you’re still talking, you’re not our enemy for now?” Kim Jeok-woo interjected.
“That’s right. I brought our old friend back.”Li Wen-wei waved his hand. A Forsaken Flesh stepped forward and placed a charred corpse on the ground. That corpse was Father Phano.
“You—! I haven’t even settled the matter of Yayoi ’s mother with you yet!”A nail gun appeared in Kim Jeok-woo’s hand as he aimed it at him.
“Calm down, brother. I didn’t come to be an enemy of the Base. After all, survivors aren’t just you. If conflict breaks out, the losses would outweigh the gains…”Li Wen-wei spread his hands and continued,“From the day I met you until now, you never knew I was an agent embedded among the survivors. If I put it nicely, you were naive. If I’m blunt—you were foolish.”
“Whizz—”The nail gun answered for Kim Jeok-woo, firing toward Li Wen-wei.
But the tungsten nail stopped just before Li Wen-wei’s face and fell to the ground.
“You have power from the Fantasy Realm!” Sophia exclaimed.
As the monsters moved to devour the humans, Li Wen-wei raised his hand again, commanding them to stop.
“That’s right. Most people, after undergoing the so-called baptism of the Photogenetic Sequence, turn into Forsaken Flesh or Ghost Moths…”
“They convulse violently, roll their eyes back, foam at the mouth, then bleed from the eyes… But not me. With Lord Mephist ’s blessing, I gained immortality, saw the truth, and became eternal evolution!”
“What kind of cringe declaration is that? Are you insane?”
“Brother… I won’t argue with you over your ignorance. But if you just want to quarrel, don’t waste time. For the sake of our past bond, go to the economic zone beside Fog City. The truth exists there—and it can also resurrect the priest…”
After speaking, Li Wen-wei and the monsters gradually dissolved into fog, leaving only afterimages. But Kim Jeok-woo would not let him retreat unscathed. Three consecutive electrified tungsten nails shattered Li Wen-wei’s Fantasy Realm field and pierced through the monsters. Fortunately, Li Wen-wei’s face was covered—otherwise, the momentary shock would have betrayed his composure.
That night, Kim Jeok-woo read through the notebook Father Phano left behind. It recorded events from the past—written by a priest named Father Joseph.
October, 1956
The Seven Sins Church received a group of leprosy patients sent from the north.
When local boatmen transported them to the outlying island, their faces were filled with disgust, as if merely touching them would bring lifelong misfortune.
From that day on, the Seven Sins Church on the island was used as a shelter for patients.
Whenever boats delivering daily supplies docked, the boatmen would throw the goods onto the ground and leave in haste, unwilling to stay.
May the Lord’s mercy descend upon them, so that their souls may not fall into eternal fire.
At first, the newly arrived patients suffered from worldly prejudice and remained despondent all day. Yet under the Lord’s grace, they gradually opened their hearts, learned to chant hymns, devoutly received the Eucharist, and found comfort in the Lord once more.
However, one night, the epidemic finally spiraled out of control.
At first, the patients’ ulcers spread faster than before, wounds oozed foul odors, their minds grew confused, and their speech became incoherent. Soon after, medical staff began showing the same patches. Nuns’ fingers trembled during prayer, rosaries slipping from their hands. On the third morning, I saw pale spots on my own forearm in the mirror. I did not cry out—only felt a hollow calm.
Fear did not descend at once. It eroded reason like a rising tide.
Some began babbling nonsense. Some tore apart holy icons. Some whispered to the walls. Order vanished from the chapel; Mass was forced to stop. That night, some nuns laughed madly, some doctors harmed themselves, and some even claimed they heard the Lord commanding them to harm one another. I knew—it was not from God.
It was in that chaos that we discovered the square box.
No one knew where it came from. It was neither medical supply nor ship cargo. It lay quietly in the corner of the warehouse, spotless and rustless, as if deliberately preserved. No one admitted to having moved it. When I reached out to touch it, an unusual warmth passed through my fingertips, as though it were breathing.
We opened it.
There was no physical object inside—only a voice, like a whisper, like thoughts placed directly into the mind. It called itself a messenger, yet it did not belong to the light. It promised healing, promised bodily wholeness and the end of suffering. The price was abandonment of faith, denial of the Lord’s name, and becoming a disciple of the Antichrist.
I saw some immediately kneel, crying as they accepted. Others were healed instantly, skin restored, eyes clear. At that moment, my faith in the Lord cracked for the first time.
I was allowed to choose.
The voice told me my service was meaningless, that the Lord had already left this place. With a nod, this island, these people—even myself—could be saved. I closed my eyes, recalled the vows I made at my ordination, and remembered those who still prayed softly on their sickbeds.
I refused.
The voice fell silent for a moment, then withdrew. What remained was our continued suffering—and a far more difficult path.
If this is a trial, may the Lord still remember us.
I record this not to warn future generations, but to remind myself:the true plague does not come from flesh and blood.
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