Chapter 111.1

Chapter 111.1

Seoryeong couldn’t bring herself to lift her head. A sour stench quickly filled the air as warm liquid burst out of her mouth.

Bent over, she gagged with each retch, her upper abdomen caving inward. The acidic reflux stung her nasal passages, making them ache. But since her stomach was nearly empty, only clear, translucent liquid spilled out.

“I’m so sor— Ugh…!”

Dizziness surged, but Seoryeong stubbornly steadied her legs. Her throat and mouth burned with raw acidity, leaving her entire oral cavity tingling.

Her esophagus spasmed uncontrollably.

Suddenly, a warm hand reached out and wiped her mouth. Lee Wooshin was at her side, his face grim as he patted her back while she dry-heaved. Supporting her chin with one hand, he carefully cleaned the corners of her lips with his thumb, wiping away the traces of vomit.

A priest, who had been frozen and wide-eyed, belatedly reached out to help, but slap—! Lee Wooshin swatted the hand away with a sharp snap.

“Don’t touch her without permission.”

The warning cut through the tension like a blade, erasing the expression from Kia’s face.

“.…”

“.…”

An inexplicable tension simmered between the two men. Lee Wooshin moved protectively in front of Seoryeong, blocking Kia’s view of her. His back muscles tensed visibly, as though bracing for a fight.

Breaking through the heavy silence, Jin Hojae handed a handkerchief to the priest. Kia, who had been ignoring him entirely, suddenly fixed a sharp gaze on Jin Hoje.

Despite the blood dripping from his torn temple and curling into the corners of his eyes, Kia’s stare didn’t waver.

“You look familiar.”

“Sorry, what?”

“I don’t like your face.”

“…Why all of a sudden?”

“It’s ugly.”

Jin Hojae’s eyes widened in disbelief, clearly offended.

“I hate imposters too.”

Kia wiped at the blood dripping into his eyes with his shoulder, smearing it down to his cheekbones like exaggerated rouge.

“Where are the children we’re supposed to monitor?”

The question, voiced in a stiff tone, cut through the conversation. Seoryeong, who had been processing Kia’s muttering, froze as if struck by lightning.

Wait—that priest was the client? Did that mean their company had beaten up their own customer to this extent? But then again, maybe he deserved it? No, even so… Her thoughts spiraled in confusion.

“You can take your time with this job.”

“It’s a paid service. Spare me the convenience, please.”

The two locked eyes in a silent, heated standoff. Lee Wooshin suddenly snatched the awkwardly extended handkerchief and began wiping the priest’s vomit-covered hand himself.

“――!”

Kia flinched and jerked his hand away in disgust, but their skirmish escalated as Lee Wooshin’s hand darted after his again and again, resulting in a ridiculous clash of palms.

Finally, Wooshin, his face tight with frustration, kicked at the priest’s knee. Kia yelped in pain as Wooshin trapped his fingers in an iron grip, twisting them slightly.

“Ow! Ow, ow…!” Kiya grimaced, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he glanced at Seoryeong for help. But she stood by, stone-faced, observing the spectacle.

I just want to rinse my mouth… Seoryeong clutched her empty stomach, grimacing against the lingering bitter taste.

Lee Wooshin spat on the priest’s pale, twisted fingers before continuing to wipe away the mess. He added a low warning for good measure.

“Don’t smear someone else’s stuff on your hands.”

Kia’s face contorted like that of a sulking child, twisted in petulance.

Somehow, Seoryeong had a feeling the rest of their time in Sakhalin wouldn’t go smoothly.

Sunlight streamed between the tall trees, cascading down like golden threads. Thin layers of snow dusted the brick-red roofs, creating a serene winter scene.

For a place labeled as a heretic branch, the peaceful view seemed out of place. The clean, modest exterior walls and the pointed steeple atop the building lent it an air of reverence and dignity.

Although the structure appeared old, it bore no signs of decay. Step by step, the team followed the priest into the monastery.

“We live by purity, poverty, and obedience.”

Seoryeong barely managed to stifle a scoff.

What a phony priest. Purity? Really?

This was the same guy who licked her cheek, yanked her hair, and had an illicit encounter in the women’s restroom. Out of everything she’d heard lately, this was by far the funniest.

“We wake up at 5 a.m. for meditation,” the priest continued. “After completing personal duties, we pray midday prayers, then eat lunch. Following that, we engage in communal prayer and return to our tasks. We do spiritual reading and prayers after dinner. Before bed, we reflect, turn off the lights, and sleep.”

Wow, prayers sound intense here, Jin Hojae whispered from behind.

As they crossed a lawn covered in trimmed grass, they passed a small area with a unicycle, swings, and a rocking horse—all toys clearly meant for children. Seoryeong couldn’t tear her eyes away from the whimsical items.

Then, a cold hand suddenly clasped hers, intertwining their fingers. She turned to see Lee Wooshin gripping her hand tightly, his gaze fixed on the same sight. For some reason, his hand was trembling slightly.

“What exactly are personal duties?” Jin Hojae asked curiously as he stepped forward.

“Housework, cleaning the parish, managing flower arrangements, or nursing duties,” Kia replied bluntly. “Don’t come any closer.”

“What about you, Father?” Jin Hojae pressed.

Kia stayed silent for a moment, a gust of icy wind sweeping past them. He inhaled deeply, almost as if he enjoyed the biting chill.

“Of course, I clean too.”

“Where?”

“Wherever it’s needed. I make sure it’s spotless.”

Satisfied, Jin Hojae nodded lightly and stepped back. Seoryeong muttered under her breath, almost to herself.

“…He seems fluent in Korean, so why the informal tone—”

Kia caught the remark and immediately retorted.

“No, my Korean’s not good.”

“…”

“Not good, I swear! Now, how about we change into priest robes and visit the children?”

“――!”