Chapter 5. Yohan
“Hey, what’s that tall building?”
“It’s a building! A building! Stop asking me questions!”
Bang!
Unable to endure the endless barrage of questions, Jungon slammed his palm against the steering wheel.
Mikael, however, showed no change in expression. Sitting in the passenger seat, he continued staring at the transformed world with amazement.
Humanity really has made incredible progress.
The buildings were so tall that he had to tilt his head back just to see their tops. They towered even higher than castles.
Cars allowed people to travel long distances quickly and comfortably, making them far superior to carriages.
And mobile phones allowed people to contact anyone whenever they wished, making messenger birds completely unnecessary.
Even the paved roads are beyond comparison. The buildings seem to have been designed for efficiency rather than artistic beauty. And although I have no idea how these carriages called cars work, they must be common if ordinary citizens can use them.
Even compared to France when it had been rapidly developing, the people here seemed to live much more comfortably.
But there was one thing Mikael liked more than anything else.
It’s peaceful.
Unlike the France of Mikael’s time, there were no shabby sans-culottes without knee breeches, nor anyone wearing Phrygian caps to show their resistance against the government.
That probably means people’s lives have become much better.
Instead of abandoned children crying in the streets, he saw children walking happily beside their parents.
Instead of masses of starving beggars desperately searching for bread after the economy collapsed, he saw volunteers handing bread out to others.
Instead of guards carrying weapons in preparation for violence, he saw people living lives soaked in peace.
Lady Helena would have been happy if she could see this.
Since Mikael had awakened here, there was a high possibility Helena had already reincarnated as well.
Just as it had always happened before, Mikael and Helena would eventually follow fate and meet again.
But for that to happen, he first needed to know what era he was in.
“Musclehead, just one last question. What year is it after Christ?”
At the words one last question, Jungon’s irritated expression softened slightly.
“You can just ask what year it is. Hmm. It’s 2024.”
Silence followed.
After a short while, Mikael finally broke it.
“…I see.”
More than 250 years had passed since 1770.
Much more time had passed than he had expected.
Most likely, every person he had once known was already dead.
Yet Mikael looked strangely calm.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t shocked.
He simply didn’t want to show it.
I’m used to it now.
For more than a thousand years, he had watched over Helena.
During that endless span of time, losing friends and acquaintances had been inevitable.
It had been painful during the first few centuries.
But now, he no longer allowed himself to suffer every single time.
If he broke down, the consequences would eventually fall upon Helena—and upon the world itself.
Worried that Jungon might notice something strange, Mikael quickly changed the subject.
“By the way, you don’t need to bring your daughter with us?”
Throb.
A vein appeared on Jungon’s forehead.
“You said that was the last question.”
“This one really is the last.”
Mikael had looked for Sia, since she had been much easier to talk to.
But someone needed to stay behind and handle the aftermath, so Sia had remained at the church.
Whether Jungon understood that or not, he sighed.
“Haah. Even if you are an Apostle, I can’t leave my daughter beside a dangerous bastard like you. Just sit quietly. We’re almost there.”
“You said you’d make things convenient for me. That was all bullshit.”
“Not tying you up is already more than enough convenience.”
Jungon glanced toward a rope lying on the back seat.
Mikael considered asking why the man carried rope around in his car.
Then he decided against it.
He had a feeling the rope might end up being used on him.
“What a shitty temper. Your brain must be made entirely of muscle.”
After muttering the insult, Mikael turned toward the window.
The first sunset he had seen in this changed world filled his vision.
And beneath that sunset, their destination finally appeared.
Myeongdong Cathedral.
“I have something I want to ask too.”
For the first time, Jungon—the man who hadn’t asked Mikael a single question—spoke up.
“What?”
“Feels strange asking this of a thief, but… do you possess a holy relic?”
He had accidentally snapped Mikael’s neck.
And yet the very man whose neck he had broken was now sitting beside him, perfectly fine.
“You really won’t stop calling me a thief, huh? Figure it out yourself, idiot.”
Jungon frowned at the response that wasn’t exactly a denial.
Normally, after snapping someone’s neck, he should have been kneeling and begging forgiveness.
But Mikael’s regenerative ability was so far beyond anything human that it instead made Jungon wary of him.
That reaction hasn’t changed, even after all this time.
Mikael was familiar with such reactions, so he didn’t care much.
The car entered a wide open area, turned several times, then stopped in a corner.
After parking, Jungon got out first and opened the passenger door.
“We’re here. Get out.”
By the time Mikael stepped out of the car, Jungon was already walking toward the cathedral in the distance.
Mikael slowly followed behind him.
His eyes fell upon the soutane Jungon was wearing.
Even priests have better clothes now that the world has improved.
The soutanes of the past had been based on loose robes.
The modern soutane, however, looked much more refined, almost like a coat.
Even the clothing of priests made Mikael realize just how much the world had changed.
But not everything was unfamiliar.
When Mikael reached the entrance to Myeongdong Cathedral, he looked over the familiar architecture with clear interest.
“I thought I’d seen this somewhere before. It’s the style those English bastards used.”
At the center stood a tall spire, with smaller octagonal towers on either side.
The exterior was built from baked bricks, and the mixture of red and gray created a surprisingly harmonious appearance.
“Back then, everyone kept insisting on bringing old architectural styles back even though they weren’t popular. Looks like someone actually found a use for it.”
It was Neo-Gothic architecture.
Mikael had personally seen the style in England during the 1740s.
“But why is it so quiet? This place looks like it should get plenty of visitors.”
“…‘Last question.’”
“Cold bastard. Ah, since I asked you so many things on the way here, why don’t I tell you a little about myself?”
“……”
Mikael began talking about old memories, but Jungon casually dug at his ear and ignored him as though announcing that the conversation was over.
He doesn’t seem bothered by anything I’m saying. He must have already heard something about me. But how did they know?
Mikael appeared to be somewhere between his late twenties and early thirties.
If someone who looked that young casually started talking about events from centuries ago, there should have been some obvious confusion.
Yet Jungon didn’t react at all.
That meant the so-called Saint knew much more than Mikael had expected and had already explained something to Jungon.
Now I’m getting curious about what kind of bastard this Saint is.
It seemed the Saint possessed far more information than Mikael had expected.
That made Mikael even more interested in their upcoming meeting.
At this hour, it should be time for evening prayer.
Judging the time by the setting sun, Mikael pushed open the brown wooden doors.
Creeeeak.
Bright light streamed through the stained-glass windows.
The chapel before him looked similar to the churches Mikael remembered.
A basilica layout. A typical church design.
The architectural style took its name from the Greek word meaning royal.
It consisted of a central nave with aisles along both sides, forming the shape of a Latin cross when viewed from above.
“From this point onward, stay quiet. Keep conversation to a minimum.”
Jungon warned him as soon as they entered.
A prayer could be heard from near the main altar.
“God, because I have sinned and wounded the heart of You, who deserves all my love, because I committed evil and turned away from good…”
A priest was praying before a statue of the Virgin Mary holding the young Jesus.
