Episode 12.
『The End, and Two Years Later』
A seaside at dawn, shrouded in darkness.
Splash!
The morning sea evokes a clear, refreshing atmosphere, but the night sea is not so.
The darkness settled thickly, as if belonging to an abyss, instilling fear in people with a single glance.
And even—
"Kee-yeerk—"
"Krrk!"
If grotesque, fish-like monsters leaped from that darkness, the terror inevitably reached its peak.
"Damn it!"
Curses burst forth.
Even though two years had passed since the apocalypse began, and they should have been used to the monsters, this was too much.
"I can't even see the end of this!"
It had been half a day.
Half a day since the battle began, and the survivors who had shown confidence were now exhausted and sinking into despair.
The appearance of monsters that showed no end, no matter how many were killed.
Of course, they knew the method to end the endlessly appearing monsters.
However.
'Impossible.'
'How are we supposed to enter that sea?'
Within the darkness-shrouded sea, the 'Magic Millstone' that continuously summoned monsters was turning.
If they did not recover it—lost in the sea during transport due to someone's greed—and return it to its rightful place, the survivors would have no tomorrow.
"We have to bring that millstone back somehow, right?"
One of the survivors, exhausted from the endless half-day battle, spoke.
"F*ck—who doesn't know that? But who's going in there?"
"We all combine our strength…."
"Bullsh*t! How can I trust you lot!"
"It's obvious you'll stab us in the back."
"We might as well all die here together!"
What was rampant among those who had endured two years of the apocalypse was jealousy, envy, and suspicion.
In a situation where they couldn't even trust their own families, who could trust whom?
For these people, where distrust was rampant, the option of cooperation was virtually nonexistent.
"The end is not the end, but a new beginning."
A voice resonated throughout the venue filled with hostility.
Swish—
For some unknown reason, that voice harmonized with the dawn waves, creating a strange harmony.
"O pitiful ones. Do not be anxious. Anxiety and fear are the root of the agony that devours you."
Flash!
Golden light erupted, illuminating the darkness.
At the source of the light, a middle-aged man with white hair slowly revealed himself.
Bleached?
No, it was a congenital color caused by albinism.
Everything from his hair to his very pupils was dyed pure white, adding to his mystique.
"Cease your suffering."
"…."
A brief silence fell under that mysterious, overwhelming atmosphere, but.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Christ, what a load of crap."
"You worthless piece of sh*t!"
These were survivors already worn to the bone—far past the first month of the apocalypse.
Anyone who would shrink back from a bit of mystical aura would have already crossed the Jordan River by now.
"It is truly tragic that you have yet to see the truth."
"The truth?"
One survivor, unable to bear it, stepped forward.
"The truth isn't your bullsh*t, it's that!"
His finger pointed into the deep sea.
"That Magic Millstone right there."
The only solution to be liberated from fear and despair.
If they could only return the Magic Millstone to its rightful place, they could be freed from anxiety and fear.
But that was no easy feat.
It wasn't just a matter of the monsters born from the darkness.
Splash!
Something briefly revealed itself with a tremendous spray of water.
It was the leg of something massive, lined with suckers—the leg of a Kraken.
This gigantic creature, something that should only appear in legends, lurked in the darkness.
As if guarding the millstone.
"Salvation? If you can really save us, then do it."
At the survivor's words, dripping with scorn.
"If that will cast you into anguish…."
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them.
Flash!
Radiance flashed from his mystical, white eyes.
"…I shall show you a miracle."
Of course, at that moment.
"Yeil."
He called out to one of those following behind him.
"Yes, Cult Leader."
Slowly walking out was a woman draped in a white veil.
Wearing the pure-white priestly garb symbolizing the Church of Salvation, she walked slowly and stood beside the Cult Leader.
"Show them the miracle of the Church of Salvation. Show them my majesty."
"I would be most willing."
The woman bowed gracefully—she who was called Yeil.
Clomp.
She walked forward.
"…."
Pure-white radiance emanated from around her body.
The survivors, feeling an indescribable pressure, cleared a path.
Even—
"Kyahk!"
"Kee-yeer!"
The monsters attempting to block her path fled in terror.
The woman, arriving safely at the white sand beach without interference from survivors or monsters,
『Split.』
uttered a word of power.
It was the power of language that humanity had lost long ago.
And.
Whoosh!
A miracle occurred.
"My, my God!"
"What is this…!"
The people who witnessed the miracle were shocked.
The darkness-filled sea split in two, creating a path that scattered pure-white light.
"Do not worry. You shall receive salvation."
Hwaahk!
Radiance bloomed as if a spotlight had been turned on.
"Aah—"
In that moment, a single word flashed through the people's minds.
"Saintess!"
Saintess.
The existence that would save humanity marching toward the apocalypse was right before their eyes.
*
Rumble—
She slept soundly even with a strange man beside her.
I stared intently at the girl drooling away as she lay on her stomach.
'Who would have guessed that this delicate child would become a Saintess.'
No one knew.
Even I, who knew the future, could hardly believe it.
"Anyway, it was a fruitful endeavor."
A debt.
I had made the future Saintess indebted to me.
In a way, it was the same method I had used to rope in Chairman Gang.
With this, I had cut off one of the Cult Leader's right arms, but it was too early to feel safe.
'As long as that serpentine three-inch tongue lives, I cannot rest easy.'
The reason the Cult Leader could thrive in the apocalypse was not martial might.
A three-inch tongue.
That bright-red, serpentine tongue had deceived many people and even become one of the causes that accelerated the destruction.
If I didn't put this damned bastard on the boat heading toward the apocalypse—if such a thing were to happen.
'A different future from the one I experienced might unfold.'
Of course, I wasn't running some hope circuit that this alone could stop the apocalypse.
But it was possible to delay the apocalypse by securing more survivors through the various events that would occur before then.
Delaying the end.
And finding a way to stop the apocalypse during that time.
That was the future I envisioned.
Drawing the Saintess before me into my camp was also part of that plan.
'The simplest way would be to massacre them all.'
It would be easy if I killed them all, but how could that be possible in modern society where law and order still prevailed?
If I killed that many people, no matter how much support I received from Chairman Gang, I couldn't avoid ending up behind bars.
'Even if I kill the Cult Leader, as long as the cult lives on, another leader will emerge.'
He wasn't the only one to worry about.
Unless we severed the root of evil, it was obvious that another Cult Leader would eventually appear.
Perhaps someone even worse than the previous one might show up.
That was why eliminating the Church of Salvation itself, the root cause, was more important than anything.
'Well, it's not like there's no way.'
Using barbarians to control barbarians.
It meant dealing with barbarians through barbarians.
Of course, that applied perfectly to the current situation as well.
"A cult should be caught with a cult."
That was the path that could completely eradicate that damned Cult Leader, the Church of Salvation, and this cult bastard.
Rrring—
And for that path, I made a call.
"Speak."
Of course, the one I called was Chairman Gang.
"I'm sorry to keep bothering you, but I need some information."
"Speak."
"You know that cult called the Church of Salvation, right? Patients there who need help, those suffering from diseases…."
What I wanted was a list of patients hoping for a miracle.
*
"O pitiful beings, the end shall soon arrive."
Inside a hall filled with hundreds of people.
On the podium stood a middle-aged man with his arms spread wide, draped in long, flowing robes of white and gold.
"But do not despair. Believe in the Church of Salvation and you shall be saved from the apocalypse. You shall obtain eternal life in heaven after death!"
"We believe!"
"Ooh—Cult Leader!"
"If we believe in the Church of Salvation."
"We shall obtain eternal life!"
The believers sent up fervent cheers in time with the Cult Leader's shouts.
To an outsider, no cult could compare, but to those devoted to that place, it was different.
Only the Cult Leader, only the Church of Salvation was their lifeline and their everything.
"Now, rejoice. Today is a blessed day, for new believers have been added to our Church of Salvation."
At the Cult Leader's signal, several people stood in a line on the podium with awkward postures.
They were mostly men in their early twenties.
"They are young lambs who have come seeking salvation. Welcome them warmly."
Clap clap clap clap—
Intense applause echoed until palms turned red.
"Th-thank you."
"Hahaha…."
They were new initiates.
Unaccustomed, they expressed their gratitude and quickly descended from the podium.
Even if everything seemed awkward now, that would change before long.
Because a pseudo-religion, though it may look shoddy, had the power of a potent drug that brainwashed people with terrifying speed.
"Cult Leader!"
Immediately after the new initiates descended, a middle-aged man and woman—a couple—came up to the podium.
"…."
Their eyes showed slight confusion, as if this was not part of the scheduled event.
But if they showed confusion here, the Cult Leader would lose face.
"What is the matter, O pitiful being?"
He asked with a benevolent expression.
"Please, please have mercy on our pitiful son. Grant us the Cult Leader's blessing."
"Please, we cannot wait any longer."
The ones speaking through sobs were Seong Dongwon and Im Yeojin.
They were among the believers who had kept their place since the early days of the Church of Salvation.
They had joined to cure their son, who suffered from a rare joint disease.
Their son, who had been an active track athlete in middle school, had suddenly been afflicted by a rare disease that left him unable to walk.
They had sought out famous hospitals and experts to treat this disease, known as avascular necrosis of the hip, but to no avail.
The disease had already progressed too far; all they heard were hopeless words that nothing could be done.
Then they met the Cult Leader.
Deceived by his words that faith could cure all diseases, they devoted everything to the Church of Salvation.
Money, time—even quitting their stable jobs to dedicate themselves to the church.
When told their faith was insufficient, they did their best in missionary work despite the fingers pointed at them by those around them.
Yet their son still hadn't been healed.
"O pitiful being. Did I not tell you again and again? Your son has not been healed because your faith is lacking. Miracles do not occur without faith."
Every time, it was the same.
A lack of faith, a lack of devotion.
"But…."
"And, O being. The number of new followers you have brought in recently—what is this if not a lack of faith?"
They had evangelized to all their relatives, acquaintances, even their neighbors.
In truth, they were the ones who had contributed most to the Church of Salvation's growth, yet he slandered them based solely on recent numbers.
"This happened because of your lack of faith. Do not fall into anguish. Show your faith and devotion. Then a miracle shall appear before you!"
"We believe!"
"Salvation from the apocalypse!"
The believers cheered again at the Cult Leader's words.
"Aah—"
"Was it… was it a lack of faith…."
And the couple, who had thrown away everything for their devotion, blamed themselves.
"…."
Then they looked below the podium at their son, slumped in a wheelchair.
There wasn't much time.
If things continued this way, the couple's son would likely die before his time.
But those blinded by the cult could only blame their lack of faith and pray desperately.
Please, save our son.
Footsteps.
Footsteps echoed in the scene of fanaticism.
At first, they were drowned out by the believers' cheers, and no one heard.
But the next moment.
Hwaahk!
The intense golden halo appearing around the young man plunged the scene of fanatical devotion into silence.
"Do you desire a miracle?"
The words of the one enveloped in brilliant light.
"…Yes. I desire a miracle. I desire my son's complete recovery."
The woman spoke as if entranced.
"If you desire it, it shall gladly come to pass."
He took out a 500ml plastic bottle from his bosom.
Transparent liquid sloshed inside.
"What is this…?"
"…."
She looked at her son without a word.
As if she didn't know what that meant.
Footsteps.
He walked slowly.
Step step—
The couple soon sped up and ran to their son in the wheelchair.
Gulp gulp gulp.
Forcing the liquid from the bottle into their son, whose jaw muscles could no longer move properly due to the disease's progression.
"How outrageously audacious!"
The Cult Leader shouted, enraged by the unexpected young man—the new initiate's sudden action.
In response, the large guards acting as the Church of Salvation's security ran to stop the young man.
But the next moment.
"Uh, Mom?"
The running guards.
The Cult Leader, who had been shouting at the top of his lungs.
And all the believers who had been fervently cheering in fanatical devotion stopped in their tracks.
"I-I can talk. I can walk!"
The young man who had been slumped in a wheelchair just moments before.
The couple's son, Seong Guhwan, stood upon the ground in perfect health.
"When one wishes fervently, that itself causes a miracle."
Hwaahk—
The halo radiated once more.
Yun Chan—who had been nothing but a new initiate just moments ago—had performed a miracle that even the Cult Leader famed for his divine powers could not accomplish.