By Zephyria 
The place Yeom Cheon-ho entered after getting out of the car looked, at first glance, like an abandoned factory. Entering such a dark place alone with the lights off was, by any standard, incredibly suspicious behavior. The three of them fell silent, their minds racing with all sorts of unpleasant imaginings. Fearing they might be spotted, they scanned the perimeter of the factory with their flashlights turned off. After some effort, they managed to find a door that hadn’t been fully closed.
“…Should we just report this to the police now?”
Choi Hwan whined, clinging to Yeon-rok, though it was unclear if he was genuinely terrified or acting out of some ulterior motive. Moon Gyeon-woo, who had remained composed and unshaken, let out a sigh of irritation.
“I’ll go in first, so follow me quietly. …Yeon-rok-ah, do you want to stay in the car?”
For a moment, Yeon-rok was tempted, but he shook his head. He didn’t want to give up and go back after coming all this way. He wanted to see with his own eyes exactly what Yeom Cheon-ho was doing. And so, led by Moon Gyeon-woo, the three of them entered the factory.
The interior of the factory was darker and chillier than the outside. An artificial cold wind was blowing from somewhere. Yeon-rok frowned slightly.
“Don’t you smell something…?”
It was definitely the scent of blood. Choi Hwan, who had been so noisy until they arrived, had now fallen completely silent. A nervous Yeon-rok swallowed hard. Fearless, Moon Gyeon-woo moved forward slowly and gestured to the terrified cowards to follow. It was a signal to head in that direction.
“I hear something over there,” he whispered softly, pointing toward a direction where light was leaking through.
They approached slowly, muffling their footsteps.
Sshhk, sshhk, slice, slice… The sound of something being carved and sliced grew clearer. When Yeon-rok finally confirmed the source of the noise, his eyes widened.
A large man stood with his back to them, wielding a knife. On a steel table, something was being sliced open, revealing white bone and red flesh. Choi Hwan, who had been walking carefully, instinctively recoiled at the sight and hid behind a pillar.
In that moment, Choi Hwan let out a gasp as something touched his shoulder. Turning his head to see what it was, he found something hanging from a hook in the darkness. A damp, stiff lump of flesh.
“Ack…!”
He hurriedly covered his mouth, but Yeom Cheon-ho, having already heard the sound, stopped moving. When he turned around, a blood-stained knife was in his hand. Choi Hwan screamed. Then, despite being terrified, he leaped forward with unexpected bravery to block the way and shouted,
“Lee Yeon-rok, run! I’ll hold him off!”
While he appreciated the courage, Yeon-rok had no intention of running away and leaving the two of them behind. And more importantly, the door they had entered through was now completely closed.
“Oh dear.”
Yeom Cheon-ho smiled as he scanned the three tense individuals. With blood splattered on his hands and forearms, he looked like a killer straight out of a horror movie. Moon Gyeon-woo, his face hardening, also stepped in front of Yeon-rok to stand beside Choi Hwan.
“To think you’d be caught like this; it can’t be helped. This is why I told you not to enter that room…”
Do you have no conscience? Yeon-rok snapped, unable to stop himself from arguing.
“You intentionally dropped hints so we would ask!”
“Haha!”
Yeom Cheon-ho burst into a hearty laugh, as if something were incredibly pleasant and amusing. However, holding a blood-stained knife, he looked exactly like a psychopathic killer. Moon Gyeon-woo and Choi Hwan seemed to share the same sentiment. Trembling, Choi Hwan pulled out his phone to report him. Yeon-rok, who had not yet given up his trust in Yeom Cheon-ho, stopped his hand and asked bravely,
“CEO. What is this place? What were you doing?”
“Hmm, I see.”
Finally, Yeom Cheon-ho set down the eerie knife. He smiled as he roughly wiped the blood off with a nearby towel.
“Since you have finally chosen to come here of your own volition, I suppose I should tell you. Since you wished to know more about me.”
Speaking meaningfully, Yeom Cheon-ho turned around and walked away, nonchalantly showing them his back. The three exchanged glances and quietly followed him. Choi Hwan kept looking back, perhaps fearing that someone might suddenly appear and attack them.
Yeon-rok glanced at the workbench and felt relieved. What Yeom Cheon-ho had been slicing wasn’t a human, but an animal, presumably a pig. While it wasn’t the worst-case scenario, a question naturally arose. Why was he butchering animals both at home and here? Was this a hobby? To relieve work stress?
That question was short-lived. The moment they stepped through the back door of the abandoned factory, Yeon-rok was stunned. An enormous cheer greeted them.
“We greet the flower name bearer!”
Dozens of people, neatly dressed in identical white robes, clapped joyfully and boisterously. They threw fresh flowers they were holding toward the three of them.
“Welcome! Welcome!”
“May blessings follow these precious guests!”
Completely blindsided by the situation, Yeon-rok froze in place. Choi Hwan was equally dazed. Finally, Moon Gyeon-woo, his face pale, looked back and forth between Yeom Cheon-ho and the cheering crowd. He muttered with a grim expression,
“A cult…?”
A cult? Before Yeon-rok could even turn his head to confirm if he had heard correctly, Yeom Cheon-ho met his eyes. He wore a benevolent smile. While the three watched, he caught a flower falling from a follower in his hand. It was an act that was utterly artificial yet habitual. Then, as if he had been waiting for this day to come, he spoke with a bright smile.
“Yes, it is called the Hwamyeong Cult. And I am the leader of this place.”
The day Yeom Cheon-ho first saw the three of them was Christmas Eve.
“These are the children?”
He asked Munseon Master with an expressionless face. There were ten children in total, all diligently sucking on small bottles of yogurt, oblivious to everything. Munseon Master replied with a wide smile.
“Are the baby bodhisattvas for our Great Heavenly Truth Emperor not truly lovely? The Emperor has said that since tomorrow is the birth anniversary of the Savior, blessings shall dwell here.”
Yeom Cheon-ho was puzzled internally. He couldn’t understand why they talked about Emperors and Masters yet adhered to the birth anniversary of another religion’s Savior. However, he did not express these thoughts outwardly. Even though he was still an elementary school student, he knew well how things worked here.
The Heavenly Truth Ming Cult.
Starting with Yeom Cheon-sang, the son of heaven and the Emperor, as the first leader, the order was passed down to his son. The followers worshipped those who possessed a hwamyeong. Yeom Cheon-sang’s hwamyeong was even in the shape of the character for ‘Heaven’ (天).
…Or so it was said, but Yeom Cheon-ho knew the truth from Yeom Cheon-ryul.
‘He said it was originally a flower name in the shape of “Person” (人), and he just added a tattoo over it to make it look like “Heaven” (天).’’
It was a religion born of fraud from the very beginning. Nevertheless, its influence was powerful. This was because people, as if possessed, harbored fantastical delusions about this peculiar phenomenon called the hwamyeong. For instance, they held the mistaken belief that those with a hwamyeong were beings chosen by heaven.
Thus, the power of the Heavenly Truth Ming Cult spread across the country. Under the protection of hundreds of thousands of loyal followers, Yeom Cheon-sang enjoyed every kind of luxury until he died. Afterward, Yeom Cheon-sang’s sons and daughters fought over the position of Emperor, and the one who emerged victorious to become the next Emperor was Yeom Cheon-ryul—Yeom Cheon-ho’s father.
However, there was a serious problem. Unlike Yeom Cheon-sang, Yeom Cheon-ryul did not possess a hwamyeong. In the Heavenly Truth Ming Cult, which revered flower name bearers as people of heaven and chosen ones, this was a fatal flaw.
Yeom Cheon-ryul successfully deceived the followers by engraving a fake hwamyeong. Meanwhile, he could not abandon his obsession with the hwamyeong. Whether it was due to the anxiety that his fake mark might one day be discovered, or out of a sense of inferiority, he strove desperately to manifest a real hwamyeong.
One of those efforts involved performing countless sacrificial rites. Because he would throw tantrums claiming the sincerity was lacking, the sacrificial tables gradually became more luxurious, and the types of offerings became strange. Rarer, more expensive things—and things that were still alive.
‘I heard that last time, he actually offered a living person!’
‘Oh, surely he wouldn’t have really done that! No matter what, a person!’
Yeom Cheon-ho recalled the conversation of the nannies who whispered, thinking he was asleep. Did Yeom Cheon-ryul really offer a living person as a sacrifice? He tried to deny it, but Yeom Cheon-ho knew his cold-hearted father was the kind of man capable of such an act.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit him. It was because he remembered the image of his father recently slitting the throat of a live pig on the spot to place it on the sacrificial table. However, he suppressed it and endured in silence.
“I hope the baby bodhisattvas stay strong and hold out well, haha.”
Munseon Master laughed with a feigned kindness. These children were either volunteered by followers or had been abandoned by their families and had no kin. This meant that no matter what happened to them, there was no one to come looking.