In a vibe that felt like camping outdoors, the meal continued. Viktor persistently tore at the meat and poured vodka without restraint, while Jinseong munched on pieces of meat, tossing them into the air before catching them in his mouth.
The scene resembled that of a huge animal dining alongside a tiny creature, sharing a single bowl.
“Hey, how about a shot of vodka?”
“I can’t drink, for I have yet to come of age.”
“Ha, not of age, huh? I joked about your brain still being a mess, but I never thought that was actually true.”
During the meal, Viktor discovered Jinseong’s age.
“What’s the name of this meat?”
“It’s capybara.”
He learned the name of a meat he had never tasted before.
And when the meal concluded—
Viktor began to ask questions more seriously, as if the two earlier inquiries were merely jabs. On the bright side, he was showing interest in Jinseong; on the downside, one could say he was in a process of sorting out whether Jinseong could be of help to him. Thus, Viktor’s questioning took on an interrogative nature, and even in the more relaxed atmosphere, a thread of sharp menace stood tall like a dagger.
“What is your name?”
But it was close to an interrogation, yet not quite. It was clear that his questions were not just confirmation of what he already knew but acts to obtain information.
“Park Jinseong.”
And so, Jinseong answered his questions without a hint of discomfort. No, he even bore a faint smile, as if inviting him for more questions.
“How old are you?”
“I’m only a few months away from coming of age.”
“Where do you hail from?”
“Unified Korea.”
Viktor had something come to mind upon Jinseong’s answer.
“Ha, hahaha! What the hell! My gut feeling has gone completely to waste!”
Recently, when he had requested an investigation into a shaman suspected to be involved in human sacrifice, he had discarded Jinseong’s report without even reading it. The reason was that a kid from Unified Korea, a place that had become a barren wasteland for magic, could hardly be linked to human sacrifice rituals.
In a way, that was a reasonable judgment based on common sense, but common sense becomes worthless if something appears to shatter it.
Before him stood a monster that smashed all notions of common sense; it was undoubtedly a grave mistake.
Viktor laughed heartily, as if in disbelief, and continued to fire questions at Jinseong.
“Was it you who stopped my attack during that recent human sacrifice?”
“Yes, that was me.”
“Our first encounter was definitely at the place where the sacrifice happened, right?”
“Indeed.”
“Then tell me,”
Viktor asked sharply, “What were you doing there?”
Jinseong’s knowing smile suggested he had anticipated that question.
“I was interfering with the human sacrifice.”
“You were interfering with the human sacrifice?”
At Viktor’s repetition, Jinseong dramatically gestured as if performing in an ancient theater, like a storyteller captivating his audience in a marketplace.
“There was a foolish shaman who served Crom Cruach, seeking to capture the path of his destiny by offering sacrifices. Rather than walk forward, he wished to follow the scent of blood, akin to a dog with a collar, and although he lived with a mirror, he looked not at his own face but reflected another, ignorant of his descent toward destruction—a pitiful being.”
Jinseong’s voice dropped low. It was reminiscent of a tiger’s growl, drawing nerves and creating an effect that made his words plant themselves directly in one’s brain, not merely the ear.
“However, although I might overlook a wild dog living its life, if that dog reveals itself to me and attempts to bite my family, it is only right to step in and punish it, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Hmm.”
Viktor chuckled at the metaphors woven into Jinseong’s words.
“So in simple terms, you got heated?”
He did not wait for a reply and continued his inquiries.
“Right, a dog showing its teeth deserves a beating. However, you see, this coincidence is quite ironic. A shaman from Russia, connected to you and perhaps even a family member or just an acquaintance, decides to make a move, causing you to get heated and act. I can understand that. But you interfered with their act and just happened to run into me?”
“Indeed.”
“You just happened to run into me, and it turns out you’re someone destined for royalty, the kind of person tied to me?”
Viktor gulped down vodka fiercely, his brow furrowing.
“What is this, some old cheap play? Does that even make sense?”
As Viktor glared at him incredulously, Jinseong answered nonchalantly.
“Of course it makes sense. That is life, after all.”
“Does it really?”
“Don’t doubt it. A king is someone above others, guiding and ruling over them. The notion of a king has evolved with time, but its essence remains unchanged. In times when clans were all there were, a chief was a king; when kingdoms arose, the term became ‘king,’ and when empires formed, it transitioned to ‘emperor.’ The leader wielding a hammer and sickle was termed ‘general secretary,’ while in some nations he was called ‘prime minister,’ in others ‘divine saint,’ and in still others ‘president.’”
Though the words may change, the essence does not.
If the essence does not change, then what has continued on cannot change either.
“You shall become a king. It is your will, and it is your destined fate. The title may just become ‘president,’ but still.”
It has been said that kings are appointed by heaven. It is said that those destined to be kings are born so and eventually take to the throne, referred to as the Mandate of Heaven. Humans possess fates assigned upon birth and can ultimately grasp the Mandate if they live dutifully and without negligence, becoming noble beings.
It is said that kingship is determined from the moment of birth. A person is allotted a degree of nobility that dictates their fate. The nobility flowing in one’s veins became a privilege known as blue blood, established from birth. This is akin to a destiny freely received from birth.
One could say that a king’s position is predetermined from the start.
“Fate is like a wheel rolling down a slope. It may seem aimless at first, but it follows a cleverly made path as it accelerates. It guides travelers lost in the desert like a star and whispers directions to sailors gazing at the sky over vast oceans. Thus, if you are fated to be a king, it is entirely reasonable to meet someone who recognizes your potential.”
“Yeah… Your rhetoric is quite impressive.”
Viktor stood up from his seat.
“Talking without any real information. I might get myself in trouble.”
He mumbled as if possessed by a ghost while casting a downward glance at Jinseong, who remained seated.
“Alright. It’s clear you’re willing to help me seize power.”
“That is correct.”
“And like most kingmakers, you must want something in return.”
“That is correct.”
Viktor ran his hand over his head and gazed at the Ferris wheel. The wheel, ablaze like the sun, seemed to talk about Viktor’s radiant future, reflecting the power he would spread over all of Russia. However, fire is hot, shines brilliantly, and dazes people; it raises emotions and impedes proper judgment.
One mustn’t approach matters related to the future with emotions. Moments may call for endless reminders of exhilaration and madness, but a cold, calm reason shapes the right path over a long journey.
Viktor felt it unwise to continue the conversation here. Particularly with Jinseong, who seemed to possess a talent for manipulation, further discussions could become increasingly dangerous.
Therefore, he decided to leave things for another time. To discuss the future more soberly and meticulously.
“Let’s end it here for today.”
When one feels like getting carried away, pruning the seemingly unnecessary and compressing the dialogue leaves only the truth.
There exists a bizarre shaman known as Park Jinseong.
And a willingness to assist Viktor, who aspires to be president.
In return, he seems to require something.
Viktor focused solely on those aspects in his mind.
He held a now-empty plate and, with the tip of his finger, inscribed something onto it, sharpening his focus.
『 Letter of Request 』
He tossed the plate, inscribed with the letters of the request, towards Jinseong.
“Here, I’ll give you the payment before you disappear.”
Viktor confirmed that Jinseong received the plate, tucking it into his possesions.
“With this, I have paid for the fortune telling. Am I right?”
“Correct. A Letter of Request… It suffices.”
“And put out that fire too. It seems you lit it to summon me, but if I leave, there’s no reason to keep it burning.”
“I will do so.”
“I’m not just saying that. Put it out as quickly as you can. Right now, I can let it slide, but if it hits the news, it’ll be a headache.”
Despite Viktor’s urging, Jinseong didn’t rush to extinguish the fire.
“Thorough to a fault.”
Viktor chuckled and turned to walk toward the exit.
Before long, a loud shout to retreat echoed, and amidst the chaos, the sounds of vehicles echoed noisily.
Only after their sounds had completely faded did Jinseong finally move. He approached the altar, picked up the completely burnt charcoal, and hurled it back at the Ferris wheel while speaking.
“Like the firewood that barely maintains its shape.”
As the charcoal struck the Ferris wheel, it burst silently, spreading black ash across the entire contraption.
“Those that burn shall inevitably extinguish.”
The ashes danced in the air as if devouring the flames, consuming all fire that had clung to the Ferris wheel. Only once all the flames had been devoured did the embers rise into the sky, flitting about like fireflies before disappearing entirely.
And thus the Ferris wheel returned to its stark form.
With it, the light that illuminated the entire amusement park vanished, plunging everything into a suffocating cold darkness.
He smiled in satisfaction, inhaling the fragrance of the ash that lingered in the air. Then he pulled the plate he had tucked away back out.
『 Letter of Request 』
He gently caressed the greasy plate, then forcefully scraped away an ember that sought to burn his left arm with his fingernail. After deeply scratching until blood welled up, the ember finally disappeared.
He gazed at the stars scattered across the sky and asked,
“Has the insect inside the lion settled?”
In response, the stars spoke back to him.
Not through words but through light, they communicated with him, conveying their will through flow.
The insect that had gained resistance to heat through the fire of the mind had survived, and it had taken root in another ground, leaving the cozy nest that is Jinseong’s body.
However, it signaled that it would miss its old home and mother.
This was akin to saying that Viktor’s life and death now rested in Jinseong’s hands.
“The bomb inside my body and the Letter of Request. That is sufficient payment.”
