The Cult Leader in the Clergy Academy

Chapter 34

My uncle looked at the Zapudist Cult Leader and remarked, "Look at his clothes. He’s wearing something nice.”

There was some envy and jealousy in the way he spoke.

The cult leader scanned the underground chapel filled with believers from the stage. Most of the believers stopped praying and looked up at the cult leader, but there were still some believers with their heads down who were still absorbed in their prayers. The cult leader held the microphone to his mouth and cleared his throat with a loud ‘ahem.’

"Turbojak!"

Then he uttered a bizarre greeting in an incomprehensible language. The cult leader’s voice echoed throughout the underground chapel via the speakers. The believers absorbed in their prayers suddenly lifted their heads.

"Turbojak! Turbojak! Turbojak!"

"Whooooooooooa–!! Turbojaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak–!!"

The believers screamed and reached out their hands toward the cult leader. Some were moved to tears, while others screamed so much that they even vomited out blood. It was truly a vortex of chaos and madness.

[Which country's greeting is that? I can't believe it.] Legba said. I was dumbfounded too, but I was even more scared and horrified.

Something unpleasant and sticky lurked like mist in the Zapduist underground chapel that could not be described in words.

"Stop," said the cult leader. The underground chapel quickly became quiet. The believers who had been screaming like crazy sat down and quietly listened to the cult leader’s words.

The believers would scream if the cult leader told them to scream, and they would stop if he told them to stop. If he told them to die, they looked like they were at least prepared to pretend to die.

“Today, as usual, let us start the service with a ceremony of repentance to burn our sins. Everyone, are you all ready?”

"Yes!" the believers roared.

“Are you truly ready? Are you ready to surrender yourself to the grace of God? Really?”

"Yeeesssss!!"

It was more of a sob than a roar.

"Well, then, Turbojak!”

Ping-!

With the cult leader's words, a clear sound rang through the underground chapel. Then there was silence. The believers rose up one by one and began to tremble on the spot. They either shed tears, or they drooled and laughed as if they had gone mad. Soon, an exciting pop song erupted through the speakers installed all over the chapel. The believers trembled more intensely as if they were vibing to the beat of the music.

"Ah, oh. Here it comes. He's coming. I can see it. I can see it...!”

“The cult leader look–looked at me. He looked at me? He looked at me! He, ha hu, ha, kek!”

“No! He looked at the necklace around your neck! The necklace is pretty! Pretty lines and dots.”

"No! You saw the necklace around your neck! The necklace is pretty! Pretty lines and dots, shiver!"

Everyone had gone insane. They either cried, laughed, were angry, or were delighted, and they incessantly rambled a bunch of incomprehensible mumbo jumbo.

“What's going on here? Sigh.”

“...”

My uncle sighed at the bizarre sight, and Ji-Ah just trembled without saying a word. I couldn't see their faces because they were wearing masks, but they clearly felt fear. The reason why the Zapduist believers suddenly went crazy was because of a voodoo spell.

Intermediate enthrallment spell, curse of intoxication.

It was a spell that intoxicated the target with pleasure. In ancient times, it is said that it was often used to stimulate the excitement of ancestral rites. However, in modern times, it had become a ‘forbidden’ spell.

The reason for this was because of its unique addictiveness and dependence-inducing properties of the spell. Once a person had a taste of the curse of intoxication, they could no longer escape from the cycle of addiction for the rest of their lives, and they would literally become a slave to the curse of intoxication.

Fortunately, my uncle, Ji-Ah, and I didn't get affected by the spell. It was because I had cut off the ‘essence’ of the spell that was flowing in. If I hadn’t accompanied them, then Uncle and Ji-Ah would also have been affected by the curse of intoxication and would have been trapped in the cycle of addiction for the rest of their lives.

“Everyone, are you having fun? Are you happy? All this pleasure is coming from your repentance. Through repentance, you are all receiving God’s grace and experiencing happiness!”

“Aaack! Aaaargh!”

“Yes, yes, yes, yesss. Yes."

The cult leader's powerful speech left the followers unable to give any proper responses, and they simply shuddered in pleasure. They were more or less no different from zombies.

We just stared at them in a daze. None of us spoke hastily.

“Come, let us repent! Throw away your money! Discard your lingering feelings! Burn away all your world attachments and leap towards paradise!”

The cult leader's voice pierced through the gaps in all the chaos and turmoil. Soon after, several women dressed in obscene clothes and masks walked into the underground chapel.

There was a box in their hands. It was a donation box. The women carried the donation box and went from seat to seat. The believers poured money into the donation box.

Having lost their minds to pleasure, they smiled happily even after putting tens or millions of won into the donation box. Several of the believers groped the women’s bodies with intoxicated faces, but the women continued to collect money without a care. The boundaries between right and wrong were blurred and tangled with desire and lust. Everything was vague, and only desire was clear.

Soon, the women approached us and pushed the donation box toward us. Without hesitation, my uncle put a thick envelope of money into the donation box. I couldn’t help but tilt my head questioningly.

"What?"

"Don't worry. There's only paper inside,” my uncle grinned and said. That’s what I kind of thought, but it was as expected of my uncle.

The collection of money came to an end, and dozens of donation boxes were stacked up like towers on top of the stage. The cult leader looked at the sight and spoke once again.

"Everyone. Let's all be quiet and reflect on ourselves. Do you see the lingering worldly desires that have been stacked up here?”

There was silence. The atmosphere was solemn. Even the fanatics, who had been screaming at the top of their lungs, were now paying silent tribute with their hands together at this moment.

"It is not money that you all threw away just now. You have abandoned your lingering feelings and have moved one step closer to paradise. You shouldn’t feel any regret. You must put all your money into the ‘Paradise Box.’”

Paradise Box, he said.

It seemed like that was what they called the donation box. It was such a half-arsed name that I couldn’t help but let out a snicker.

The cult leader continued his speech.

“All these things do not have any value in paradise! They are scraps of cloth and paper! They are all distractions that tie you down to the mortal world and prevent you from reaching paradise! Let’s burn it. Burn it all and send them all to the heavens.”

The cult leader closed his eyes while doing certain actions, such as waving his hands in the air or stamping his feet on the ground. It looked like he was miming.

I couldn’t even begin to guess what the intentions behind those movements were.

“These guys are really good at business. They are tying money and the afterlife like that? There seems to be more to learn than I thought.”

My uncle observed the cult leader’s ridiculous movements and analyzed the details of how the service was conducted from the viewpoint of a battle-hardened capitalist.

[The one above the stage and the one next to you. They’re more or less the same. The world seems to be going in the wrong direction. Sigh.] Legba lamented. I didn't want to blame my uncle for being obsessed with money, but it was still a little too extreme.

The cult leader had been dancing on the stage for a while now when he suddenly halted. Then he glared at the donations piled up on the stage with a serious face.

Sweat from cult leader's forehead rolled down to his chin and dripped down onto the ground. His hair was so sweaty that it was sticking to his forehead.

“Come, let us repent! Let’s burn it! Let’s throw it away!” the cult leader shouted and extended his hand toward the donation box.

Flash!

Then, a dragon fell down from the sky. It was a huge dragon that was composed of fire. Soon, the dragon swallowed the donation box whole. The donation box filled with bundles of money made crackling sounds as they turned into black ash.

I quietly watched that scene for a while, but I soon closed my eyes when my breathing became unstable, and I could feel cold sweat forming.

A small fire was fine, but a big fire was still hard to deal with. However, it was a relief that I didn’t faint or see hallucinations like before.

[It's Marinette's power. I was wondering where he ran away and hid, but he was residing within another guy.] Legba's low, insidious voice cut through the darkness.

Marinette was the Loa of Fire.

With his power, one could control the size and shape of fires freely, and one could even control the temperature.

[He probably only burned the donation boxes and not the actual money that is contained inside. With Marinette’s power, it’s possible.] Legba said.

Obviously, there was no need to burn that much money for no reason. By using this method, it was possible to increase the devotion of the believers and also collect money at the same time. For a cultist, his strategy was pretty good.

"Huh? You’re burning it? No, what are you doing? Are you crazy? Huh?”

I could hear Uncle Jin-Sung's voice. He sounded genuinely angry. I could vividly see my uncle screaming in agony with his bloodshot eyes. Since he had no idea about Marinette’s power, from his perspective, it would have looked like a catastrophe. It was understandable why he was at his wit’s end.

The cult leader continued to drone on as the donation boxes burned. The believers roared in response to his words. Numerous sounds mixed and tangled to form a cacophony. The noise continued to resound in my ears for a long period of time.

"Now, all your lingering feelings have burned away. With this, we shall conclude the ceremony of repentance, and we shall move on to the benedictions.”

Only after hearing that the ceremony had concluded did I finally open my eyes. The huge dragon composed of fire had disappeared, and all that was left were the donations that had been burned black.

My uncle was staring at the burned boxes with eyes that were filled with shock. His face was filled with anger and disbelief.

“All mighty Bongdiye who resides in the skies, you have opened the door that leads to paradise for us.”

The cult leader began his benediction. Bongdiye was the name of the single god that the Voodoo Cult believed in. Although it was a cult that had branched off, it looked like the overall framework seemed to follow the form of the Voodoo Cult.

"You have liberated us from greed, desire, and degradation."

My uncle’s gaze was still fixed on the donation box as he muttered, "Does burning money liberate you?"

My uncle retorted back with a murmur to everything that the cult leader said. There was a clear sense of rage in his voice.

"You have enlightened us who are ignorant with your scriptures that contain your will."

“Indeed, you’re ignorant. You burned all that money that you received.”

Beyond his mask, cult leader's face was slightly distorted. It was such a minuscule change that my uncle did not notice it. Ji-Ah seemed to have noticed and gulped while standing next to my uncle.

"Teacher, I can hear you."

Ji-Ah stopped Uncle Jin-Sung, who was muttering. His face, which was always expressionless without any sign of movement, currently had hints of surprise.

However, Uncle did not stop muttering despite Ji-Ah's attempt at dissuasion. Instead, he smiled confidently and said, "It's alright. I said it out loud on purpose so that he could hear.”

He seemed to have some sort of plan. Neither Ji-Ah nor I knew what the plan was.

The cult leader continued his benediction on the stage.

“I, along with all of us, shall follow Bongdiye’s will–!”

“Why do cultists always spit out the same generic lines?”

When Uncle Jin-Sung muttered, the cult leader halted his benediction. His ice-cold gaze locked onto our exact position. Beneath his mask, bloodshot eyes could be seen.

There was a moment of silence in the underground chapel.

Countless believers were all looking at us. Their faces were covered with masks, so their expressions could not be seen, but it was all the more sinister.

Within the silence, the cult leader grabbed his microphone and cleared his throat again. With a cough, he once again opened his mouth and said, “...I would like to apologize to my brothers and sisters that have gathered here in the chapel. Originally, I had planned to start with a benediction in order to deliver Bongdiye’s message to you all.”

The cult leader raised his hand and pointed toward us. His finger was quivering. His jaw muscles tightened intermittently, and the sound of his teeth clenching flowed through the microphone.

“Let’s change the order of events and introduce our new brothers and sisters first. The three of you over there, could you please come up to the stage?”

Before we could even get out of our seats, the believers around us took the lead and dragged us up the stage. Just like that, we were pushed onto the stage as if we had gotten swept away by a tidal wave.

The bright lights directly illuminated us. It didn’t just blind my eyes, but it was also painful.

The cult leader whispered instructions to the women who had collected money with the donation boxes. The women moved in perfect order and brought strange items from somewhere.

There was a tool used for binding that resembled either a leash or a collar, an unidentified water bottle containing faint purple liquid, and finally, the Altar. As all the items were placed on top of the stage, the cult leader smiled with satisfaction. It was a very dark and unpleasant smile.

Soon, the cult leader turned his head like a robot and looked at us.

“Brother, do you doubt us?” the cult leader asked while looking directly at Uncle Jin-Sung. With a hint of panic, my uncle nodded half-heartedly while standing on one leg.

"Yes."

"Which part did you not like?"

“I don’t understand why you burned the money that I saved up through hard work.”

Uncle’s manner of speech had the mysterious power to provoke the opponent. The cult leader's face seemed to contort strangely, but soon he regained his bright smile.

"Ha ha ha. I don't think you understood the ceremony of our 'Voodoo Revival Church' very well. Brothers and sisters?” the cult leader said while looking at the believers seated beneath the stage.

"Yes, yes! Cult Leader!! Cult Leader!!"

"Turbojak! Cult Leader!! Please look at me just once–!!!”

The believers stretched out their hands toward the cult leader and screamed. The cult leader smiled with only the corner of his lips. The believers stretched out their hands and screamed at the cult leader. He smiled lightly, only raising the corners of his mouth.

“I’ll ask my brothers and sisters. Should we bail out these fools who don't understand our Voodoo Revival Church?”

"Noooooooooooo!! We must kill them right noooooooooowww!!”

"We must burn them with fire and send them to heaven, cough, cough!"

In response to the cult leader's question, the believers screamed at the top of their lungs, making the blood vessels in their necks bulge out. Everyone was crying out for us to be killed or burned as sacrifices right away.

The cult leader smirked as if he expected this reaction.

"Come now, come on. Stop. Our Voodoo Revival Church embraces even these foolish and stupid lambs. That is the virtue of 'mercy' taught to us by Bongdiye!"

"Waaaaaaaahh!" The believers roared. It was a deafening roar. The cult leader soon reached out to us. A purple glow flowed out from the tip of his finger. It was Voodoo magic.

"Voodoo Revival Church's spell, Turbojak! As soon as I call out Turbojak, these foolish lambs will be saved and will become our brothers and sisters!"

"Whooooooooooooaaaaa–!"

The believers responded and just screamed. They sounded like the cries of beasts. Humans who lost their reasoning and gave themselves up to pleasure and instinct were no different from beasts.

"Now, stop. Quiet."

With a single word from the cult leader, the shouting that seemed to last an eternity came to an abrupt end. The chapel was filled with silence, but beyond the deep silence, the shouts of the believers continued to echo.

The cult leader’s spell soon reached completion.

"Turbojak!"

With an incomprehensible cry, murky mist flowed out from the cult leader’s spell array and engulfed us. The stage was covered in mist, so it was impossible to see even an inch ahead. Only Uncle and Ji-Ah’s silhouettes could be faintly seen.

The mist soon cleared. Gradually, as visibility was slowly restored, the cult leader's voice began to echo throughout the auditorium.

"Now, do you see it? Do you see the bright and beautiful smiles blooming on their faces, which were full of doubts until just now!"

The cult leader looked around at the believers that were beneath the stage with a wicked smile. But the reaction from the believers was somewhat unsatisfactory.

At a time when they should have risen from their seats while clapping and shouting, the believers were just blankly staring at us.

"Brothers and sisters? It's time for you to clap."

The cult leader laughed awkwardly. Nevertheless, the believers did not respond. In time, the cult leader's expression hardened as he turned his head and looked at us.

I, of course, was not laughing, and my uncle and Ji-Ah were also not laughing. No one was laughing. We were just staring at the cult leader with stiff expressions on our faces.

The cult leader had used the 'curse of intoxication' on us. However, it did not reach us.

It was because I interfered with the cult leader's Voodoo mMagic and had cut off the spell’s ‘essence.’ As the real cult leader, there was no way that the spells of a fake cult leader would work on me.

“Ah, huh?” the cult leader muttered in confusion. He had a befuddled expression on his face.

Tap.

Then, someone pushed me on the back. When I turned my head, Uncle Jin-Sung was looking at me with a smile.

"I summon you, Do-Sun-Woo-Mon[1]! Show him what the dignity of a cult leader!”

"What? You were going to do this from the beginning–"

"Hurry up! Quickly! The Altar is right in front of you as well!” My uncle urged me. So that was why he had been muttering those provocations at the cult leader during the benediction. Only then did I understand my uncle's plan.

It was slightly unpleasant that he seemed to treat me as a mere summon or some sort of object, but at this point, it was too late to back out.

"Ha," I sighed heavily and trudged toward the Zapduist Cult Leader.

1. Refers to Doraemon ?