Jinseong began speaking as Viktor sat down in front of him.
“Profound observation, you say. It truly is mysterious yet fleeting, caught between knowledge and superstition. When machines are employed, it becomes invariably inaccurate, but when we perceive and assess a person directly, accuracy tends to follow. This issue arises because one cannot merely judge a person’s appearance by its own merit. Correct judgment necessitates the use of both instinct and reason.”
Jinseong carefully separated the pieces of capybara meat on his plate and continued speaking. The roasted capybara seemed to tear apart as if pulled by an invisible hand, separating into sizes suitable for eating.
“This is a human mystery that machines cannot imitate. Hence, it is not at all strange that I read your palm to predict your future.”
“Hah! You speak well for one whose head’s still full of scars.”
Viktor chuckled, casting a sidelong glance at Jinseong. His expression was a blend of mockery and the disdain felt when encountering a fraud.
“Not a witch, so your age is as evident as it appears. While it does seem that the Easterners look younger than us, you still strike me as barely an adult. What can a mere child know about human mysteries or the future that warrants belief?”
He scanned Jinseong’s neck, where a scar from a sabre had left no trace, and the embers floating around didn’t seem like ordinary magic.
“Well. You seem skilled in magic to some extent. But that’s quite separate from this, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Hahaha! Viktor, you already hold a level of trust in me. Though you might claim disbelief, your unconscious self believes in me.”
Jinseong laughed.
“If you had no faith, you would have decapitated me and set this place ablaze. You’re not the type to accept a meal from someone you consider a fraud.”
“Ahem.”
“Dining is sacred. For you, eating is not merely about sharing food, it’s about sharing connections and information. You won’t dine with anyone of no value, nor with those unworthy of your exchange. Dining is the rare time when you can compensate for your troubled childhood while realizing you’re alive.”
Viktor’s frown deepened as Jinseong brought up his past once more. His expression resembled a predator torn between seizing its prey or holding back. Yet, against this backdrop, Jinseong only grinned brighter.
“I ask you, when do you feel alive outside of a meal? When do you truly sense your existence? Was it during that Spetsnaz training where you felt death was preferable? No? Perhaps on graduation day when you sheathed a blade and scarred your cheek? No?”
“You….”
“Violence isn’t sweet, yet it borders pleasure. It ties closely to primal instinct, inherent in all beings. Endorphins surge, vision narrows, and even pain is forgotten. Then, returning to your senses after achieving victory, the triumph overshadows physical wounds and suffering. Nothing else feels quite like it.”
Jinseong looked directly into Viktor’s eyes.
“What, then, makes you feel truly alive?”
“Feeling alive, you say.”
“But every pleasure has its threshold. Just as one adapts to pain, so too do they adapt to pleasure. As a child, you punched people, then graduated to hitting soldiers. Hitting soldiers eventually led to aiming firearms at one another. Firearms turned to explosions. Those explosions escalated to greater destruction, only for you to find that none of it renders the sensation of being alive anymore. Viktor, you live amid destruction. You’ve adapted to death and to your surroundings crumbling, without hesitation.”
He laughed.
“Where else could one find a more qualified ruler than you?”
Viktor observed him with a grin unsuitable for a boy.
“However, a ruler’s temperament cannot be judged solely on this. No matter how cold and calculated one is, a small vessel cannot rise above others’ heads, and even a grand vessel with cracks will simply fall like a foolish being trying to ascend. What is derived from such knowledge is none other than palmistry.”
Jinseong gestured dramatically with both hands. With each movement, embers formed trails, enhancing his mystical appearance, coalescing into an image.
It was that of a majestic lion with a rich mane.
“In ancient Greece, it was said that a person’s form can be compared to that of an animal to discern their temperament. The form of the heart reflects on the face, and that form relates to destiny! This is Western physiognomy, the method used by diviners to read the fates of Westerners!”
The lion raised its front paw, pointing at Viktor’s face.
“Your square forehead resembles that of a lion, indicating strong pride. Your hair, much like a lion in its prime, implies great courage. Those unsightly scars on your body reflect the form of a dominant male, one who has overcome challenges. Thus, your features comprise the visage of a lion. The portrayal of your heart revealing your ambition reflects that of a young lion filled with desire! To maintain ambition despite already being a leader suggests that you are a contender for kingship! Is there any doubt that you’re fit to ascend?”
“A lion, you say.”
“Moreover, your hair is stiff yet sturdy, resembling flames—this speaks of a self-illuminating persona, consuming all around while exuding light. Fire devours yet presents warmth, drawing people near, and people tend to add more firewood to stoke the flames. This naturally indicates an increase in influence, a quality befitting a king.”
The image of the lion in the air shifted and morphed into a shape resembling flames, but then they dispersed, taking on the appearance of a constellation.
“Behold. This is your guardian constellation, the cluster of stars that shone brightly at your birth. This symbolizes the emperor in astrology, depicted in the form of a reclining lion, hence called Leo. While you’re said to have been born on December 18, perhaps you truly came into this world on August 19, as it can be interpreted as the hidden form of a lion. Yet, the guise of the Sagittarian form mirrors that of Heracles in lion skin. This too suggests qualities fit for dominion.”
“What?”
Viktor’s eyes widened as Jinseong revealed his true birthday.
“How did you know?”
“The question of how I knew loses all meaning. As I’m gazing into your fate, how should I respond to your inquiry?”
The constellation scattered, leaving just one star behind.
“Look. This is Regulus, a star representing ambition and status.”
The solitary star shone brilliantly, gathering all the floating sparks of life around it.
“However, this star also warns of blind faith in power and the doom that follows. It speaks of a person acquiring honor amid the military, only to meet ruin, with status built on oppression and violence crumbling down. For one like you, who has rapidly risen through the ranks at such a young age, is this not an apt star to embody?”
Viktor gazed at Jinseong. His face illuminated by the radiant fire shaped like Regulus while the shadows from the shifting flames danced across his features, casting and revealing his visage repeatedly.
He resembled a jester wearing a mask, captivating but deceptive, and a gnarled tree dancing under moonlight, or perhaps it appeared that the changing moon had taken a human form and sat before him.
He contemplated.
He agonized with logic, while instinct led the way.
And at last.
“It seems you’re not entirely a fraud.”
Instead of seizing Jinseong’s neck, he kicked up a massive chunk of freshly torn leg. He took a big bite.
“Ah, this is delicious.”
He began his meal.
The well-cooked capybara barbecue was crispy on the outside and full of juice on the inside. While it felt a bit dry, he immediately mitigated that sensation with quick gulps of vodka pulled from his back pocket.
Each bite tasted quite akin to pork. The seasoning, packed with intensity suited to a Russian palate, added a slight kick that made him want more.
Besides, the salty, spicy seasoning paired perfectly with the vodka.
He dispatched an entire leg with ease and picked up a piece of shredded meat.
“Hmm?”
The tender shreds offered a clean taste.
“It tastes similar to what I had in Vladivostok.”
The preparation allowed for a tender texture in the shreds. Still, he felt more fond of the leg he previously gnawed on and grabbed another to take a giant bite along with the shreds on top.
“Now this feels right.”
“Glad you liked it!”
Jinseong, seemingly pleased by Viktor’s hearty eating, summoned a bottle of vodka and a glass into the air from a distance. He then opened the bottle, poured vodka into the glass, and dropped one ember in.
Whoosh.
The vodka ignited like a Molotov cocktail.
Viktor grinned, evidently satisfied with the display.
“Now, this one knows a thing or two.”
