Lunch came courtesy of a food truck brought by one of the volunteers, serving up a spread of street snacks.
[Death and Beauty says my Apostle’s little brother is suffocating her with his silence.]
[Death and Beauty says my Apostle’s little brother is very good at cleaning.]
[Death and Beauty says my Apostle’s little brother can decorate the Christmas tree without a ladder, and the nun really likes that.]
Biendeoé had taken refuge on Tae Woon’s shoulder after Moong-i kept trying to put her in his mouth. She hadn’t stopped sending Divine Words ever since—proof enough that Tae Woon was handling his tasks well. Even if he had taken a day off to tag along, he’d been so busy with chores that he hadn’t gotten a moment alone with Kim Sibaek.
After working the food truck and finally getting a bite to eat with the others, they were wrapping up when Sister Hyoju Agnes approached to help.
“You’ve been working so hard. Do you volunteer often?”
“…Not really.”
“Oh? I thought you seemed really used to this kind of thing, but I guess not?”
Even as Kim Sibaek avoided her gaze, visibly uncomfortable, Sister Hyoju Agnes kept talking with a warm, easy smile.
“Hunter-nim, do I really look that much like someone you know?”
“Sorry?”
“It just seems like… my face makes you uneasy.”
“……”
“Whoever she is, what if I really am her?”
Kim Sibaek finally stopped what he was doing and looked at her playful expression. If someone else could already see the storm of emotions written on his face, maybe it was better to just confront it head-on.
“Where are you from?”
“Guri, in Gyeonggi Province. I’m a Seoul refugee too. The Cataclysm hit while I was visiting the city with my mom. Lucky timing, huh?”
Not Haenam, then. It was the answer he expected, yet for some reason, it still left him hollow.
“Then it’s not you. She was from Haenam… I think.”
Sister Hyoju clapped her hands in surprise.
“No way! I’m not, but my mom’s hometown is Haenam.”
Mak Slechth had no tradition of celebrating the birth of gods or divine beings, so Biendeoé found the whole Christmas vibe endlessly fascinating. She’d been happily admiring the decorations at the orphanage—but never strayed more than a meter from Tae Woon before fluttering right back to his shoulder.
“……”
The little crow kept hopping and fluttering near his shoulder. It would’ve driven anyone else mad, but Tae Woon didn’t bat an eye as he quietly continued his chores.
If she couldn’t send Divine Words to Kim Sibaek—or if no one else was praying to her—Biendeoé would’ve already been crushed by the suffocating silence pressing in from all sides.
[Dear Death and Beauty, I couldn’t get a reservation at the fine dining restaurant in the HJ Hotel for Christmas. Please at least get me on the cancellation waitlist. Their steak is crazy good. The chef won first place on a cooking show. I once told Tae Woon-hyung we should recruit him for the guild cafeteria, but he shut me down. I heard you’re volunteering with Hyung at the orphanage today—please help me convince him to bring that chef in next year.]
A prayer filled with shameless self-interest. Aside from her Apostle, Lee Hangyeol—her only other believer—was clearly enjoying the holiday spirit in his own way.
This was the kind of devotion Biendeoé preferred. Light, almost joking, not clinging too tightly. A faith suited for a god meant to leave one day.
Still… does he even eat?
From her perch on Tae Woon’s shoulder, she tilted her head, peering at him. He always ate with Kim Sibaek. Even if it was just a snack, he’d sit next to him and nibble away. But when they were apart? She’d never seen him put a single thing in his mouth.
Today was no different. He hadn’t drunk a single drop of water, even while working hard. Was he not thirsty?
And now that I look at him more closely… something’s off.
She found herself drawn to the left side of his neck—more specifically, the faint trail of Magi stretching along his skin like a tattoo.
She leaned in to get a better look, wanting to examine it further. But just then, she felt it—a gaze. She looked up.
And met eyes with a jet-black stare, looking down at her.
Unfeeling. Icy.
Dark and fathomless, like he could devour a fledgling god whole without a second thought.
The pressure was nothing like the heavy silence from before. This was raw, suffocating dread. But before Biendeoé could fully register the weight of it, Sister Benedicta’s voice rang out.
“Woonie! You’re still working? Come on now, you need to eat! Go grab something before it’s too late!”
Pushed out by Sister Benedicta’s firm but gentle scolding, Tae Woon stepped outside. From his shoulder, Biendeoé clutched her chest, her heart fluttering for no reason. That moment from earlier—when it felt like something almost brushed against her—what was that?
Tae Woon pulled back the gaze that had trapped her.
Now deep in thought, the little crow no longer showed any interest in the Magi mark. Had she kept looking, sensed something off… he would’ve had to kill her, just as Chaos once warned.
But he didn’t want to.
Because Kim Sibaek would be devastated.
Without a word, Tae Woon made his way toward the food truck. Kim Sibaek would be there. Probably with her.
Tae Woon narrowed his eyes, scanning the distance—then shut them altogether. Tracking divine energy was faster and far more accurate than relying on his deteriorating eyesight.
His vision was fading. Gradually, inevitably. It wasn’t Kim Sibaek’s fault—the treatment had been sound. But what doctor could heal a patient who lied about his symptoms? All Tae Woon could do now was pray that the time he had left would be enough.
Beyond the still darkness spreading across his retinas, he sensed a light—brilliant and unmistakable—divine power shining like a beacon. Kim Sibaek. That radiance, so blinding it felt holy, reminded him of a single ray of sunlight piercing the depths of the sea.
Tae Woon’s consciousness latched onto that resplendence. Like a deep-sea creature, its eyes long atrophied, lured upward by the first glimmer of sunlight—unaware that the very light it chased would melt it to nothing—he, too, rose toward that divine glow.
Ah.
He managed a shallow breath.
Just before he was fully consumed, something else flickered into his awareness—a faint shimmer of divine energy. Dim and scattered, nothing compared to Kim Sibaek’s, yet undeniably real. The kind of nascent grace not yet awakened in the clergy who held sincere faith on this land. It was her.
When he opened his eyes, he saw her—Sister Hyoju Agnes, standing beside Kim Sibaek. And Tae Woon wondered… how would he respond to this new chain, this new burden?
“…You said your mother was from Haenam?”
“Yes! She left when she was young and never got the chance to go back, but she always missed it. That’s why she gave me the name Haeryeong—the ‘Hae’ comes from the character for ‘sea.’”
Just hearing the word Haenam had made his body tense before he even realized it. And when she continued, a quiet breath escaped him. She wasn’t her. His mother had never longed for home.
Unaware of the tension in him, Sister Hyoju kept working, hands busy, mouth warm with memory.
“But she also hated it. I think it was one of those love-hate things… She always said she couldn’t stand the sea. Even fish grossed her out.”
“I can’t stand the stink of the ocean or the smell of fish. It stuck to everything. Thank God you boys like pork cutlets, right?”
A voice from long ago. His mother’s voice. Soft, fond, cradling him in the dark as she rocked him to sleep. Her words now echoed, perfectly layered with Hyoju’s.
“Actually, my mom remarried. I’ve never met them, but I have older half-brothers. She said she named each of us using pieces of what she remembered from her hometown—cypress trees (柏), clouds stretched across the horizon (雲), and the sea (海). She gave those to me and my little sister.”
“……”
“Oh wow, I’m rambling. I don’t usually share this stuff with people I just met, but for some reason… you’re really easy to talk to, Hunter-nim. It just feels… comfortable.”
Kim Sibaek (金時柏) and Kim Siwoon (金時雲).
The world tilted.
He’d never heard any of this before. His mother had never told him what their names meant. And now, with his brother gone, the meaning finally arrived—like a hammer blow to the chest.
Kim Sibaek moved his lips, doing his best to keep his voice from shaking.
“…Is your mother in Daejeon, too?”
