Answering God's Call - Chapter 13

Ruslan, who had stepped out first, opened the passenger door of a new Wayfarer sedan that looked somewhat too expensive for a devout priest to be driving, and gestured to Tatyana. As if he were a chauffeur, he personally closed the passenger door once she sat down and moved to the driver’s seat. Throughout the process, Tatyana’s gaze clung persistently to him.

What is she curious about now?

He knew she wouldn’t be staring without reason, but instead of asking, Ruslan simply gave a small nod. Not understanding, Tatyana only kept staring, so he pointed at the seatbelt across his chest.

“…I don’t usually wear seatbelts.”

“I know. But right now, it’s safer if you do.”

Even as she pulled the seatbelt across herself without complaint, Tatyana’s gaze remained fixed. Like a sunflower staring only at the sun. Unable to ignore it any longer, Ruslan gave in first.

“Just ask. Stop staring like that.”

“You know the address too? How do you remember everything? You said she was low risk.”

“I’ve been rotting as an exorcist priest for a year.”

He would’ve remembered even after ten years. It’s not like he spent all his time buried in the church. But even if he said that, Tatyana didn’t care.

“One year or five, you were still rotting.”

“….”

Listen to her talk. Unlike Ruslan, who was left speechless, the suspicion on Tatyana’s face only deepened from that moment onward.

“…No way….”

Leaning her upper body close to the passenger window as if to avoid him, Tatyana let out a small sigh, as if she finally understood everything. The way she even covered her lips with both hands as if they wouldn’t close properly looked odd.

“What is it now? What are you imagining?”

Pressing the accelerator gently, Ruslan glanced at Tatyana. She suddenly startled on her own, sighed, and sent him a strange look… he couldn’t make sense of her behavior. At his prodding, the corners of Tatyana’s eyes drooped as if she pitied him.

“Could it be that Rebecca West….”

Even the way she dragged out the end of her sentence was suspicious.

“Was she your lover, Father?”

“…What?”

Startled by the completely unexpected question, Ruslan’s hand slipped on the wheel. Thinking he hadn’t heard her properly, Tatyana repeated the same question.

“Was she your lover, Father?”

“I’m the one driving, so why would you ask that?”

“If not, then forget it.”

“If not, then forget it? Ta- no. Are you insane?”

A priest’s lover. A priest and a lover… even though he didn’t believe in God, the combination of those words felt deeply immoral and irreverent.

Ruslan quickly took his foot off the accelerator and muttered a curse. At his unusually intense reaction, Tatyana avoided his gaze and muttered under her breath.

“…I thought she was your lover. Otherwise, why would you still remember the address of someone classified as low risk? This is a reasonable suspicion.”

“Damn it, stop with that ‘lover.’ Do you think adding ‘reasonable’ makes it convincing?”

“Doesn’t it sound plausible?”

“In what way?”

“There are no coincidences in this world. What do you think the chances are that the person Gilmore contacted just happens to be someone you know? Whatever kind of personal relationship it was in the past isn’t my concern, but if we’re going to pursue Rebecca West, we need to know what we should know. Don’t complicate things later. If you have something to say, say it now.”

“I have nothing to say. I said I don’t know her. For all you can see, I’ve been faithfully carrying out my duties as a priest.”

“…Ah, yes. Sure.”

“Ah, yes. Sure? That’s it?”

“What more should there be?”

A priest’s lover, whatever… she throws things out like a slap and wrecks a person’s composure, then says ‘if not, forget it’? ‘Ah, yes. Sure’? Dumbfounded, Ruslan clenched his teeth and denied it again.

“I said it’s not like that.”

“Alright, alright.”

“I said it’s not. You’re not believing a word I’m saying.”

“I said I get it. Honestly, Father, I wasn’t going to say this—”

“If you weren’t going to say it, then stick to that decision.”

“What kind of resolve are you expecting from a defected death row inmate?”

“….”

Now that she mentioned it, that was true.

“…What is it you were going to say?”

“Go look in a mirror. Honestly, who would take you for a priest? Just wearing a cassock doesn’t make you one.”

“Why do you keep picking a fight with the person driving?”

“The bastard—no, the guy who suddenly pointed out that I gained weight, who was that?”

“When did I point that out… anyway, what’s wrong with my face?”

“…?”

At Ruslan’s confused question, Tatyana tossed out a casual, ‘Never mind then,’ before stubbornly staring straight ahead. A moment later, her gaze drifted back to him.

Unbelievable. He really has no idea what the problem is. Swallowing a hollow laugh, Tatyana slowly looked Ruslan over as he skillfully turned the steering wheel.

Gleaming ivory-blond hair, deep blue eyes like lapis lazuli, a prominent brow ridge and a straight nose that looked as though they’d been carved with a sharp chisel… and that wasn’t all.

He stood a full head taller than most men, with a lean yet solid build. At first glance, he looked slender, but Tatyana, who had once caught him when he collapsed and helped lower him to the ground, knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving.

Setting aside his question about his face, Tatyana’s gaze moved over Ruslan’s features, imprinting each detail, and her head tilted.

She had felt it from the first moment she saw him, but it was a face that couldn’t be dismissed with just the word handsome. You didn’t need to look closely to know his looks straddled that fine line between a handsome man and a beautiful one.

But does he really not look in a mirror? That can’t be right.

That face, that body. And those eyes that give nothing away.

He hid his emotions and desires as if tightly sealed, wearing a restrained face befitting a priest, yet the gaze he met far too often was suspicious. The way his eyes, as if set down carelessly, were indifferent and dry, yet at the same time seemed to pry everything open and rummage through whoever they met.

So who would look at that man and think he was a priest? The first thought that comes to mind the moment you see him is that he’s dangerous.

Just as drawing lines on a pumpkin doesn’t make it a watermelon, wearing a cassock and a cross doesn’t make someone a priest. If people could be defined just by what they’re called, I’d be God.

Which is why, the more she looked, the less she could understand the Military Intelligence Directorate’s decision to assign him as an exorcist priest, even if it was a demotion. Didn’t the seven-year Balder War drastically reduce the male population and create an abnormal imbalance in the sex ratio?

If only it had ended there.

That abnormal imbalance in the sex ratio ended up creating social phenomena that Tatyana found utterly unacceptable.

To quote what people around her said, “because young men of marriageable age became scarce,” men who would once have been dismissed as “how is that even the same species as me” were now being praised as “if you keep looking, they’re not so bad, even cute.”

As if men hadn’t always been treated as precious already.

It was a problem that ugly faces were given power they didn’t deserve, and that even with advanced medicine, their confidence couldn’t be cured, but the bigger problem was the current reality where even something truly cute couldn’t be called cute.

This kind of social phenomenon, far beyond the bounds of normal, was an unforgivable insult and blasphemy to the word cute.

In any case, as a consequence of the Balder War, Lubyanka, Lytton, and Dochen had even begun selecting men with decent looks and passable builds to train as operatives specializing in honey traps.

When even training honey-trap operatives had become a trend, it was hard not to be dumbfounded that a man who looked exactly like he’d spent his career seducing targets was suddenly masquerading as an exorcist priest. Irreverent.

And then—

‘Are you telling me to wear clothes you were going to give your ex just now?’

‘I never said anything about an ex.’

‘…Are you married?’

At the brief memory that flashed through her mind, Tatyana pressed her lips together as if she understood. That face clearly wasn’t one of a man unfamiliar with women. What kind of act is this?

“Sister, I asked what you think of my face.”

“Do you want an honest answer?”

When no reply came even after waiting, Ruslan asked again. Wondering if he really didn’t know and was asking, Tatyana’s tone turned dry, and Ruslan glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

“I want a pleasant answer.”

“Watch the road.”

A pleasant answer, my ass. Just drive. Tatyana jerked her chin lightly, as if telling him to cut the useless talk and focus on driving.