Yoon Taehee had always thought gods were beings that could exist and not exist at once—beings that ca and went.
In the past, every village had its sacred tree, and a great guardian stood at every village entrance. On every mountain, people piled stones at the passes to enshrine local deities, and on fertile land, household gods watched over families. Countless gods had appeared on this land and vanished again, over and over, according to human need.
Thus, gods were beings who transcended humanity, yet paradoxically could never be free of humans. A god forgotten by humans lost power and faded away.
That was true even of the Bangsangsi, who had once reigned as a god who drove off evil ghosts.
The Bangsangsi was the founder of the forr Office of Narye, and once a hero who led the Naja. But with the passage of ti, he had beco little more than an empty shell, stripped of any clear presence.
...After founding the forr Office of Narye, the Bangsangsi vanished from this land in order to entrust his place to humans. The present Office of Narye inherited the Bangsangsi’s achievents and continues to protect humanity according to his will...
Even within the Office of Narye, information regarding the Bangsangsi was treated as top secret. What ordinary Naja were allowed to know was limited to that much. Even then, it was only ntioned briefly when summarizing the Office’s history.
In the modern institution, the Bangsangsi remained rely a symbolic figure. His once-brilliant na had long since faded, and the presence that had once shone so radiantly had grown indistinct.
When Yoon Taehee first entered the Office of Narye, he had not been particularly interested in its history. He had never wondered how the Office of Narye began or who had founded it. Such things seed boring and unnecessary.
Then, at so point, a thought suddenly struck him.
The Bangsangsi, founder and master of the Office of Narye, had left this land after yielding his place to humans.
But what if the vanished Bangsangsi returned?
If the forr master reappeared, the Office of Narye would undoubtedly be thrown into chaos. There could be only one throne. Therefore, regardless of whether the rumor was true, if word spread that the original master, the Bangsangsi, had returned, it would beco a major issue—one capable of threatening the position of the director of the Office of Narye.
That was why Yoon Taehee had brought up the Bangsangsi.
From the very mont he began designing Byeoksadan, he had intended to use that na.
The return of the Bangsangsi would beco an unprecedented event, one that shook the very foundation of the Office of Narye.
“Bangsangsi will return to this land.”
The notice posted on the back gate of the Office of Narye had been the Leader’s work.
Its purpose had been to reveal the existence of Byeoksadan and publicly announce the return of the forr master.
It was a gamble, and a test.
Yoon Taehee’s prediction had been correct.
The Bangsangsi was, without question, an unwelco presence. Seok Juryeon’s reaction alone had been proof enough.
The mont Seok Juryeon grasped the notice’s true intent, she destroyed it without even bringing it to the director of the Office of Narye.
The aning behind the notice—that the Bangsangsi’s return was a grave threat to the very existence of the Office of Narye—had been proven in an instant.
“Spread the rumor. The original master of the Office of Narye, the Bangsangsi, has returned.”
***
When the Leader returned to his room after walking back down the long corridor, Dduddu, who had earlier been sulking and throwing acorns, was now sitting on the table, gnawing on one.
“Have you cald down?”
He chuckled softly.
Dduddu abruptly pretended to rub its face, feigning indifference, then showed interest in Chairman Jang’s business card lying on the table.
In the brief mont the Leader looked away, Dduddu tore the paper apart. Just as it was about to stuff the pieces into its mouth, the Leader quickly snatched the business card away with a rustle.
Holding the card, he walked straight behind the folding screen.
Between the screen and the wall was a narrow passage, and a large bookshelf stood facing the screen, forming one side of the space. The Leader often brought books with him whenever he visited the pavilion, and the ones he left behind had naturally accumulated until the place had beco a small library. The shelves were densely packed with all kinds of books.
Standing before the bookshelf with his hands clasped behind his back, he tilted his head and began choosing one.
Paehyeon, who had followed him like a retainer, spoke cautiously.
“Do you intend to keep silent about it?”
The Leader glanced at Paehyeon while pulling out a random book.
“About what?”
“Byeoksadan. That person is now part of the plan as well.”
It was a vague remark, but he understood exactly who Paehyeon ant.
“...”
Without answering, the Leader began turning the pages.
A brief silence followed.
“With what trust would I tell him?”
He answered shortly without lifting his head, eyes still fixed on the book.
“Are you uneasy about him?”
He remained silent.
The fact that Jaegyeom kept acting as a variable did make Yoon Taehee uneasy.
Originally, the notice posted on the back gate of the Office of Narye was supposed to reach the director. Over ti, every word except “the Bangsangsi’s return” would have been erased, leaving only the final ssage for the director to see. The notice had been both a challenge and a warning.
But the variable had appeared in an unexpected place.
“This is a puzzle.”
Jaegyeom had noticed the hidden wordplay on the notice far too quickly.
As a result, its true intent was exposed on the spot. Seok Juryeon destroyed the notice and ordered everyone present to treat it as though it had never existed, and the ssage that the Bangsangsi had returned was discarded before it could ever reach the director.
That was why the Leader had ordered the spirits to spread rumors instead.
Once word began circulating outside, it would inevitably reach the director of the Office of Narye.
The plan had deviated slightly from its original course. Thanks to Jaegyeom, things had beco more complicated.
“Well, since you’re already entangled with him, Taehee, perhaps you should consider him a trustworthy friend as well—”
Before Paehyeon could finish, the Leader laughed.
“Friend?”
Casually slipping the business card between the pages of the book, he murmured without much concern.
“I have no intention of befriending soone who’s going to die.”
The cold response drew a firm line, and Paehyeon fell silent.
The Leader continued flipping through the book with an indifferent expression.
Then, at so point, his hand froze.
Paehyeon, who had been quietly watching him, looked on in puzzlent.
As the Leader turned the pages, the book had fallen open on its own to a certain place. A Polaroid, tucked inside as a bookmark, had been resting there for so ti.
It was the photograph Lee Youngshin had taken with a disposable cara to bind a certain boy.
Yoon Taehee must have tucked it into a random book while clearing away evidence from the incident.
In the photo, the bloodied boy was holding a bow.
“...”
Yoon Taehee could not tear his eyes away from it.
The Leader held his breath and stared intently at the blurred photograph. As he studied the blood-soaked boy, he unconsciously reached out and touched the picture.
As if enchanted, his fingers slowly traced the boy’s face.
Then they trembled faintly, as though burned.
He drew in a deep breath and slowly closed his eyes.
“After all... it’s «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» only a fleeting mont.”
Muttering sothing incomprehensible, he closed the book.
After returning it to its place, he stood there with his eyes shut for a while, then rubbed his face wearily.
“...You look tired.”
Paehyeon spoke with concern.
“Yes. I’m a little tired.”
He had not felt well since yesterday. When he touched his forehead, there was a faint fever.
After lowering his hand, he picked up a book and moved toward the window.
“I should rest for a bit.”
Below the window stood a large storage chest. Long and rectangular, it was large enough for a person to lie on, so it was sotis used as a makeshift bed. The Leader often lay there for brief naps.
He stretched out on the chest with one arm propping him up, soon crossing his legs as he began to read.
A soft mountain breeze flowed in through the wide-open window.
The book in his hands was a very old fairy-tale book. One glance was enough to tell it had been read until worn thin.
Paehyeon, standing quietly nearby, spoke in a low voice.
“When the plan is over, what would you like to do, Taehee-nim?”
“Who knows...”
He had never thought about what ca after.
“I’d like to go to a quiet island and feel the wind.”
Turning the pages, he answered quietly.
“I’m tired of mountains now...”
The printed words seeped into his eyes like a lullaby.
It was a book he had owned since he was very young. By now, he knew every sentence by heart, so there was no real need to read it. Even so, he always kept it close.
Reading and rereading it had beco a habit.
His first hatred.
And a keepsake.
Theo wanted to go to the sea.
To a beautiful island where erald waves glittered in the sunlight.
To a place where no one could find him, and no one would wait for him.
Theo wanted to go to a lonely sea, so he would not be lonely...
Sleepiness washed over Yoon Taehee.
He covered his face with the book he had been reading and placed one hand over his stomach.
“I’m going to sleep for a bit. Wake when the sun sets.”
“Yes. I understand.”
The squirrel had already climbed onto his stomach and curled up.
The Leader wrapped his left hand around the squirrel.
The squirrel flinched and bit him.
It disliked being touched by his left hand.
No matter how many tis he saw it, he found it fascinating. Though the squirrel knew nothing, it seed to instinctively sense its predator.
He lifted his arm and looked at his left hand.
Yoon Taehee always wore a watch on his left wrist, no matter where he was.
Slowly, he took it off.
Beneath the silver tal watch, a thin black snake lay blended into the scar on his wrist like a tattoo. At first glance, it resembled a bracelet.
“Sisi.”
He felt along his wrist as though checking a pulse.
He called softly several tis, but as expected, Sisi did not answer.
“Shall I close the window?”
At so point, Paehyeon, who had been standing nearby, spoke.
“No. Leave it open.”
Paehyeon silently closed the door and left.
A faint lilac fragrance drifted in on the wind through the open window.
Yoon Taehee let his arms fall loosely.
“...”
As he drew a deep breath, the scent of old paper stirred up a strange longing.
“It was only a fleeting mont anyway.”
Murmuring so softly it could barely be heard, Yoon Taehee finally sank into a deep sleep.
“It was only a fleeting mont anyway...”
A gentle breeze descended from the mountain slopes, rustling softly. His bangs, caught between his forehead and the book, slipped down.
On the cover of the book, a na had been written in crooked handwriting.
Yoon Seonoh
Yoon Taehee had lived half his life under the na “Seonoh.”
And the na Seonoh was proof of the sins Yoon Taehee had committed.
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