Jinseong returned to the room, illuminating the entire space as he checked the divine object he had made.
The leather that formed the divine object was a dark brown color, and the straw attached to it had also soaked up that color, tightly packed in place. The short, stiff straw, when brushed against, could even cause pain, and pressing down on it revealed a firm yet strangely squishy texture, making him ponder if he was touching a dead pig.
Seemingly satisfied with that texture, Jinseong slyly lifted the corners of his mouth.
He picked up the divine object and placed it into a well-crafted wooden box in the corner of the room. Then, he pulled out an inkstone and a chunk of mirror-like red sand from the display case and scooped a handful of pig fat he had stored underneath the display to place it on the inkstone.
“Hmm.”
He took a whiff to check if the pig fat had gone bad, then ignited the Samādhi True Fire to melt the fat. Slowly, he ground the mirror-like red sand, making a bright red dye on the inkstone. He kept mixing the red sand with the pig fat until the paint reached the right thickness, and when he was pleased with it, he dipped his index finger into the paint and began to draw on the inside of the box.
The drawing resembled cave murals.
On the worn-out wood, a figure clad in leather was depicted holding a torch and hunting a pig, while the pig illustrated had a large and ominous appearance.
Jinseong used the Samādhi True Fire to quickly dry the painting, then closed the box, wrapping it with a leather strap to seal it so it wouldn’t open.
Clunk.
As he finished sealing it, the box shook vigorously.
It thrashed as if something alive inside was trying to break free, a thunderous noise echoing around. Moreover, amidst the loud sounds, an indescribable noise spread out, reminiscent of a pig’s agonizing groans, followed by a stench that would make anyone’s nose wrinkle.
“Well made indeed.”
Jinseong didn’t flinch at this terrifying sight; instead, he smiled as if it pleased him.
He filled his hand with the Samādhi True Fire and raised it high. Swinging it like a torch, he brought it closer to the box. The frantic movements of the box diminished, as if it had swallowed its fear.
Jinseong held the torch over it, leading to a sizzling noise and the distinct smell of burnt hair wafting through the air. He waved his hands as if trying to disperse that foul odor, and after several motions, both the smell and shaking of the box subsided.
But quiet didn’t mean the end.
Perhaps due to the aftereffects of the divine object inside, mold began forming around the box, and the once pristine carpet started to lose its luster as if it had been through a storm. The wooden display case grew damp and began to emit an odor, changing color like it was rotting.
Defilement.
The symbol of defilement, which Jinseong had reinforced through the ritual, started to seep out.
He had sullied a ritual meant for humans by replacing it with a non-human entity, added a spell from the splintered Judeo sect that moved toxins, and further, fused the tainted meanings into the object that should have been burnt with Islamic cultural spells, layering the defilement. To make matters worse, rather than incinerating it, he treated it as prey and left its shape intact.
What was meant to have no form or to be erased had taken shape.
Additionally, what he hunted bore the symbolism of a corpse, and since corpses were of course regarded as impure, that layered the meanings of defilement further. And after painting primal symbols on the box meant to contain the divine object and labeling it with meanings of ‘corpse’ and ‘prey’…
It was hardly surprising that such a horrid aftermath spread in all directions.
Jinseong reached into the air and pulled forth gold, which squirmed to his beckoning and traced a rectangular line around the box. Like waves surging up, it coalesced into a single point, forming a shape.
The Golden Pyramid.
It was a fitting vessel to hold the impure essence of the corpse and also a symbol in stark opposition to the Abrahamic faiths.
As soon as the divine object entered the Golden Pyramid, its defilement ceased to spread.
The radiantly shining gold clung to the impurity without decaying or fading, filling the space from wall to floor—a small storeroom and prison for the divine object.
Confirming that the Golden Pyramid completely suppressed the impure essence, Jinseong began pulling out various items from the drawer.
Iron.
Vitamin C.
Bandages.
Wine.
Povidone-Iodine antiseptic.
A can of bread.
And a handful of finely ground bone powder.
He levitated these items into the air and moved to the bathroom.
After a short while in the bathroom, something odd began to happen to his body.
The skin on his once pristine palms began to peel away.
The skin at the center of his palms was shedding, and deep wounds appeared as if something were gouging him. Fortunately, it didn’t penetrate through to the backs of his hands, but it did seem on the verge of revealing bone beneath the gaping holes.
These holes didn’t stop at his hands; they appeared on his feet in the same manner. The soles of his feet had holes gaping wide open.
Blood flowed from the gaping holes.
As if it were an exaggerated portrayal straight from a movie, blood gushed forth, enough to fill the bathtub.
Seeing this, Jinseong grabbed the wine he had levitated. Instead of removing the cork, he simply seized the neck of the bottle and smashed it, pouring its contents into the bathtub.
“hic est enim sanguis meus novi testamenti, qui pro multis effunditur in remissionem peccatorum.”
As he uttered the spell in Latin, the smell of blood filled the bathroom. With that stench, the amount of blood flowing from his hands and feet significantly reduced, and the steady flow of blood that had streamed like a tap soon dwindled to mere drips.
Creeeak.
With the blood beginning to slow, Jinseong hastily stuffed everything he had levitated into his mouth. He crammed iron, vitamin C, and bone powder together, chewing and swallowing them, and each time he got a bit choked, he leaned down to suck up the wine that filled the bathtub. Only when the last of the blood had ceased did he finally pour the Povidone-Iodine antiseptic onto his wounds and wrap them with bandages.
Then, he got out of the bathtub and grabbed the can of bread.
The can bore a striking halal certification mark.
He opened it and sprinkled the bone powder over the hard and tasteless bread, tearing off mouth-sized pieces, and as before, whenever he choked, he’d lean down to suck up the wine from the bathtub.
After finishing the whole can of bread, he let out a sigh, as if satisfied, and began to unwrap the bandages.
What emerged was smooth skin.
As if feigning ignorance about when the wounds had formed, it was now soft and white skin.
It had always been somewhat pale, but due to the blood loss, Jinseong’s skin appeared even more ghostly.
He resembled a well-blooded vampire.
He tossed the bandages casually onto the floor, picked up the showerhead, and washed the blood and wine off his leather clothing and skin, towel-drying himself haphazardly before stepping out of the room, barefoot and dripping wet, splashing his way to the restaurant.
As he approached the dining hall, he felt a wave of warmth and the delicious aroma wafting through the air, accompanied by the countless presences and voices of people inside.
Jinseong counted to three at the door before knocking.
Then he asked,
“May I come in?”
In response, he heard Iarin’s energetic voice from beyond the door.
“Oh, come in!”
With the invitation to enter, Jinseong opened the door without hesitation.
All at once, countless gazes turned toward him.
“…”
“…”
“…”
An immediate silence fell over the dining room.
The first to break that silence was Iserin.
“Oh, brother… your clothes…?”
Iserin, who had been carving chicken steak, looked at Jinseong with a bewildered expression.
Her eyes were fixed right on Jinseong’s body.
More precisely, on the leather clothing that seemed utterly unfitting for him.
The once pristine leather now looked odd as if it had taken on the wear and tear of Jinseong’s struggles, with a somewhat reddish hue, peculiar glossy and non-glossy patches blending together.
It resembled an outfit worn by a rock star for a performance or perhaps something a devoted fan would wear to a concert.
“It’s just a spell I had to wear, so don’t mind it.”
Jinseong said this and then took a quick look around the restaurant, unable to adjust to the sight that had completely changed.
But soon he grasped the mechanics of the dining hall and approached the chef.
“I’d like a beef steak. Blue rare. 1 kg… No, 2 kg. Also, make a beverage by mixing tomatoes, citrus, garlic, and seaweed, and prepare a chunk of fresh blood pudding for me, please.”
He placed an order that sounded fitting for a blood-obsessed mosquito and took a seat at the table filled with family members.
Then he glanced at Lee Yang-hoon and said,
“I think it’s time for a coming-of-age ceremony.”
